#I really read 3 lines of text and was like ah yes those two. those two are the ones im gonna hyperfixate on for eternity | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sabraeal · 1 year ago

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If the Mind Is Willing, Chapter 3

[Read on AO3]

Part three of 500 Follower prizes @bubblesthemonsterartist earned herself years ago! Only two more and I will have fulfilled all those fics...probably just in time to have a 1K follower raffle

Blue light washes her pink sheets pale, until it’s impossible to tell when cotton ends and her skin begins. The shadows pull longer in its glow, turning her own nearly skeletal as she reaches out a finger, hovering over the link.

“U-J-Kyo?” Chizuru’s mouth wraps around each letter, the sound of them tumbling softly into the muted glow. “But that’s just...?”

The university’s homepage. And her laptop’s, technically, now that Yamazaki helped her set it. Not something she’d normally associate with Souji’s interests, not unless he’s started some new hostilities with the provost’s office again. Their last open letter hung on the fridge until just before Thanksgiving, the second paragraph asking for “certain individuals in the student body“ to “show more conduct becoming of an undergraduate of a prestigious institution” highlighted proudly in lime green.

Dean Kondo dropped by the house only a few days later-- for a friendly visit, he’d said, smile as warm as she remembered. He’d stayed for dinner, complimenting the soup she’d made from their leftovers, and then talked with Souji out on the porch until the swing’s chains started to creak. The letter disappeared the next morning, unremarked, though Souji kept glowering at the bare metal every time he passed through the kitchen.

Chizuru swipes tentatively at the screen, messaging app blooming beneath her finger. The link’s innocuous, known, but Souji has a gift for slipping a sting into any handshake. And if he’s calling it a gift, well--

[ToudouDomination] omg holy shit dude nice knowing u hijikatas gonna kill u 4 sure 💀💀

Professor Hijikata’s taught her enough about Trojans to take that kind of present at face value.

[✨��GAINS💪💪✨] *skullfuck u mean skullfuck ull b the most beautiful corpse at ur funeral bro

Her lips press tight, clinging to each other as close as the rubber case to her phone. If everyone’s acting like this about it, it’s better that she doesn’t look.

[ToudouDomination] MY funeral???!! what’s this got to do with me??!!

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] nah man im not talking ab YOU im talking ab dead man walking over here

She’d regret it if she did, probably.

[Dr 💖💋🤭] jfc I’ll say somethign nice at you’re disciplinery hearing

[ToudouDomination] Me??

[Dr 💖💋🤭] No one’s talking about you Heisuke

It’s an accident, really. Her thumb skims up the side of the screen-- scrolling past the sudden influx of skull and fire emojis the boys heave into the chat-- and the pad of it just barely brushes the link. It flashes under the pressure, blue then purple, selected, and well...

There’s no harm in just letting it happen, is there? It’s only the university homepage, nothing--

Ah. That’s what it should be at least. But instead of the azure and white, there’s text curling across the screen, a half dozen different hand-written poems in blue bic and college rule, tiled across every inch of the background. There’s coffee stains on them too, some in the corner, and some in rings, like they were more used to being coasters than literature. And in the center of it all--

“Oh.” She blinks, tilting her screen to get a better view. “A video?”

Hogyoku Open Mic, it reads at one corner, reflection on water. A strange choice for Souji; he’s never mentioned an interest in poetry, let alone live readings. Frowning, Chizuru tilts her phone, letting the video fill the screen.

It plays, and oh, several things become clear, all at once.

“My heart is pure,” the man on screen promises, words raking over the gravel of his voice-- how little of it there is marks his age more than the lack of lines on his face-- but Chizuru’s isn’t, not when she can’t do much more than stare, fingers numb around the rubber case. “I use my palm as an inkstone.”

The camera pans closer, and yes, above that black dress shirt-- open to its third button, oh goodness gracious-- is Hijikata. Not the one she knows now, the grizzled professor who kicks his feet up on the desk and uses profanity as punctuation, but--

But a much younger man, not much older than her, considering the last little bastions of baby fat clinging to his cheekbones.

[Dr 💖💋🤭] This muts be a hundred pakcs of cigs ago

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] 💯

[ToudouDomination] do moths feel desire or is that like a poetic thing he talks about rain a lot too whats that all ab

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] its a sex thing

[Dr 💖💋🤭] Shin don’t tell the baby taht

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] hes a growing boy he has to learn sometime better he hears it from us hijikata fucks 🍑🍆🍑

[Saito.Hajime] Can I please be removed from this group? Also, congratulations, Souji, on finding a new, creative way to die

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] no way if we all have to think think about hijikata fucking u have to suffer too

[Saito.Hajime] I am not certain I care for that logic

[Dr 💖💋🤭] Too bad, bud. Your stukc with us

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] yeah bro u signed the housing contract ur here til death comes for u or like u move out or smthn

Chizuru means to stop the video, really she does. It’s not something Hijikata would want them to see-- at least, she assumes so, considering the way he flushes every time Souji brings up his graduate school slam jams, threatening to expel him if he doesn’t ‘shut his damn mouth.’

But the one on the screen smiles as he finishes his set, smouldering out past the stage lights, and she-- she expects snapping, some cool cats with shades and berets nodding their heads to his truth or whatever mood this is supposed to give. A respectful silence, one that gives space to the idea he’s introduced to the space, but instead--

Instead there’s screams. A full audience of women-- and a few particularly enthusiastic men-- loudly voicing their appreciation for what she’s hoping is the poetry.

Ah, maybe Shinpachi is right. It is a sex thing. And she’s watched a full ten minutes of it.

Hijikata can never know. Or worse--

[Susumu Yamazaki] Take this down. Now.

[( ⓛ ω ⓛ *)] eat my ass

Her heart ricochets around her rib cage, panicked, before it lodges itself in her throat. It flutters there, queasily, and-- and there’s no way he could possibly know, but still, guilt seizes her. She shouldn’t have looked, not once she knew. She should have been the first to say it was wrong. Helpers can only help when they know there is a problem, that’s what Father would have said. If you cannot perceive it then you are part of it.

She could say something now. Her hand squeezes tight around the case. No, she should say something now. She has to, because father will ask. She’ll tell him about this frantic midnight showdown, and he’ll say, and what did you say?

And if it is nothing...

[Susumu Yamazaki] Take it down now. Or I will get university IT involved.

[( ⓛ ω ⓛ *)] you don’t have the fucking balls

[Susumu Yamazaki] Try me.

Even with her eyes closed, her failure is inescapable. The words flash behind her eyelids, no longer composed of ones and zeros but scrawled in neon lights instead, reminding her that if she were better she could have fixed this. That if she were good enough, she could have found the magic phrase to get them all to get along. But instead...

Silence, that’s what he’ll give her. A long pause where all his expectations weigh on her, piling on her chest like boulders on a criminal. A cluck of his tongue, and a soft, I thought I raised you better. Any moment now, her phone will ring, and Father will know what a disappointment she is because--

It’s Christmas. Just about everywhere but Hawaii. A couple other islands in the Pacific too, if she’s being fair. It’s Christmas, and he’s supposed to call because that’s the way it’s always been: her staying up late not to catch Santa and his Reindeer but Father emerging from his office. It’s her that would tromp down the hall with all the grace of an elephant, to fling her arms around him and yelp, Merry Christmas!

And it was him who had to be stern, who must put her back down on the carpet and scold her for being out of bed. Who has to wait until she’s nearly shut her door to stop her, to call out, Merry Christmas, Chizuru.

It’s supposed to be her first. The one given moments after midnight, the most real, and-- and--

And she’s spent the whole day waiting for an empty office.

There’s a part of her, one that’s still too short to reach the microwave and can’t bear the kindness next door, that thinks she missed it. That there’s some dead zone in the house that she unwittingly lingered in, or a notification that her phone somehow swallowed whole. That it’s her fault she never presented herself to be loved.

But there’s another part, one that’s growing every day, and that one--

That one’s just tired.

It’s tired that wins out, in the end.

There’s a weight that drags at her, urging her to stay within the cocoon of her covers, to let the night unfurl across her screen, each blow reported in black and white right before her eyes. A passive observer, an active disappointment, but most importantly: unmoving.

Even still, she gets up, throwing the cloud of her comforter back so that she can slide out from underneath it. Her heels hit the floor with a force that chatters her teeth; or maybe that’s just the chill of the air now that her body heat is no longer trapped up against her skin.

Her phone settles on the nightstand, cozening up to the lamp, and for a long moment, she thinks about turning it on. Every muscle complains as she peels her day clothes off and exchanges them for pajamas, her eyes straining to make out what’s a hole and what’s just dead air, and yet--

Yet it’s easier than facing herself.

The same weight drops her back onto the mattress, an anchor sinking into the endless depths of open water. She isn’t sure when she’ll hit bottom, but staring at the blank screen beside her feels entirely too close to it.

It’s with a trembling finger that she guides the volume from full to vibrate. Even that makes her heart race, makes her wonder if she’s just punishing Father for having priorities besides a fully adult daughter, the same one who had so happily told him she would support his sabbatical wherever it took him. What if he needs to get a hold of her? If there’s an emergency on Borneo or San Cistobal or whatever island his research took him? Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just keep it on a little, just in case--

Her fingers flex. She deserves to sleep tonight, what little of it there is left. And if this is on...

Vibrate changes to mute. The phone flips over, screen pressed against the wood.

“Good night, Daddy.” She gives the case one last, small tap. “Merry Christmas.”

“Hey, jailbait.” Something warm nudges her shoulder, not gently. Chizuru has the space of exactly one breath to wonder what, before the same something grips both and shakes. “Get up!”

“Haah?” Her hands flail out, but whatever’s gotten hold of her slithers out of her grip, retreating past her arm’s reach. “What...?”

It’s bright when her eyes peel open, the sun already seeping through the curtain even though it can’t be more than--

“Class!” Her limbs fly out, wild as she tries to turn over, tangled up in the tight embrace of her covers. “I’m late for--”

“Hold up a slice, shortcake.” Souji looms over her, tall enough that his knees barely brush the bed to do it. “No classes today.”

“No...?” It’s not as if she has anything to say, brain moving at a snail’s pace that it is, but her mouth keeps moving anyway, as if just working her jaw might help get the gears moving. Which it does, oddly enough, reminding her it’s not a weekend but a holiday, and not just any holiday but Christmas, and--

And Father never called. Unless it came in the night, after she’d put herself to bed. After she’d not only turned off the ringtone but vibrate too, leaving him no chance to hear her voice, forcing any attempts for him to contact her straight to voicemail, like she didn’t even care--

“Hey.” Souji knees the mattress, jolting her outstretched elbow right into the corner of the nightstand. “Get up already.”

Painful tingles race up her arm, bouncing from elbow to shoulder and back and, oh, why is it called the funny bone when it’s not funny at all? “Souji, why are you--?”

A bleary blink turns the blurred numbers on her clock to something like sense.

“Oh!” She bolts upright on the mattress, sending Souji skittering back a step. No wonder he’s deigned to scratch at her door; Harada might be the oldest, but of the three of them, Chizuru’s the only one that can be trusted with the stove. “It’s late! Are you hungry?”

“No.” This close, it’s easy to see that furrow flash between his brows, the quick reassessment of his opinion. “Well, yeah. But that’s not what I want right now.”

This early, her brain’s as bleary as her vision, but it won’t clear no matter how much she blinks. “Then what...?”

He heaves a sigh; her only warning before long fingers clamp around her wrist, cold as iron. “Just come with me already.”

It’s a feat to get untangled from her blankets; there’s a knit one sandwiched between the top sheet and the comforter, plus another for more weight-- and heat, since she shares her thermostat with Shinpachi and Harada, whose bodies both run at a temperature verging on medically alarming if they think sixty-five degrees is comfortable. It’s harder still with Souji yanking at her the whole time; she’s not certain whether he does it because he’s impatient or because her struggling amuses him. Possibly both, knowing Souji.

Impatience, however, wins out. One foot wins free, planting itself on the bedside braided rug, and he snaps, “Hurry up. We don’t have all day.”

She’d love to, if only the comforter hadn’t swallowed her up to the ankle, cinching tight when she tries to pry it apart. “Ah, I know! Just give me one--”

Unless she’d meant to say second-- which she hadn’t, not at all-- Souji doesn’t give it to her. Instead he tugs, and she stumbles off the mattress, dragging half the blankets with her. “Good,” he huffs, barely glancing back. “Let’s go.”

“Wait!” Souji has a terrible habit of making things worse the longer he’s made to wait, but she digs in her heels anyway. Or, well, the one that isn’t still trapped in Poly-Fil. “Can I at least put on my robe?”

“Why? It’s not like there’s anyone to see your cute little Christmas--” he squints “--raccoons?”

“Tanuki.” She smooths her hand over the fabric, one of their round faces peeking playfully out from between her fingers. “They’re just so fluffy.”

Souji stares at her, stone-faced and silent, and-- and it’s longer than that his teasing typically takes. “Right,” he says, stilted. “Whatever. Just hurry it up, Sleeping Beauty.”

Chizuru is keenly conscious of every second Souji suffers her, all-too aware of how impossible it is to win a race against the limits of his patience, but she’s determined to make the most of what she’s given. It’s hopeless to aspire to Hajime’s cool efficiency, but she tries, keeping her movements sharp and purposeful, as if putting on her robe required the same sweeping grace as his kata, and yet--

Yet she barely cinches the knot tight before he’s grabbed her again. “C’mon, princess. We’ve got things to do.”

It’s a struggle just to keep her feet beneath her, but she manages a very eloquent. “Huh?”

His mouth quirks, too pleased, as he tugs and she stumbles, bare feet barely braced against the jamb. “People to piss off.”

Ah, well that’s hardly promising.

When all is said and done, he doesn’t drag her far. A cold comfort, considering.

“This is Hajime’s room,” she informs him. His grin assures her he already knows. “And, Ya-- ah, I mean, Su-- uh, um. S-susu...?”

The name’s foreign in her mouth, tongue stumbling and stuttering around it, and it’s-- it’s just odd not to use it, when she’s so used to Souji and Hajime and Heisuke and Shinpachi and even Sano, if it feels safe to say, instead of intimate. As if she’s letting all the rest of them close while keeping him at arm’s length.

Which isn’t true. But still, she can’t bring herself to say Yamazaki’s first name so casually, not when even Heisuke, who barely lasted three hours before asking if she was cool with nicknames, hasn’t managed it. With the syllables rolling around in her mouth, it’s almost...

Illicit. That’s it. “Is there a reason you need me here?”

Souji’s mouth curls, so satisfied she’s surprised she can’t see feathers between his teeth. “Yes, definitely.”

“But they went home for the holidays.” She frowns. “Did you need something in there? I’m pretty sure it’s--”

His leg kicks back, and with one smooth swing, he completely bypasses the need for a doorknob, the open door shivering from the force.

“-- locked,” she finishes faintly. “Oh my.”

One hand catches the door, long fingers splayed across the grain. “After you, jailbait.”

She nearly balks-- it’s not as if it’s his room; he hardly has the right to invite her-- but the door swings open, and she--

She’s never seen this before. Yamazaki’s room. Or Hajime’s, of course. A tour down the hallway would be enough to get a glimpse into any of the other rooms; Heisuke hadn’t even waited a day to drag her into his, pointing out all his favorite posters. Harada and Shinpachi took a few weeks longer, though she’d spent most of that visit with her hands clapped over her eyes. Even Souji tolerated her shuffling a step over the threshold, even if it was only to ask for him to help her reach one of the taller cabinets. But Yamazaki and Hajime...

Their door has always been carefully shut, not even the slightest gap for a peek. An easy habit to explain away; the both of them value privacy over accessibility, choosing to socialize in the common areas of the house rather than in their room, but still--

It’s almost surprising how normal it is. Not that Chizuru expected it to be wallpapered floor to ceiling with centerfolds, like Harada and Shinpachi’s room, or crowded with collectibles like Heisuke’s, but maybe white walls and stark sheets, monochrome and neat as a pin. The sort of room that would seem unoccupied, if it wasn’t for the monitors on the desks. Sterile.

Instead there’s posters. Not crowding the walls, so close that the corners overlap, but there’s personality, if not chaos. Enough to know that the boy who sleeps under the navy comforter likes movies with kimonos and swords or computers from the 80s, and that charcoal comforter likes wuxia and vintage medical diagrams. And books too, if the stack teetering on his bedside table is any indication.

Chizuru shuffles a step further into the room. It would be rude to rummage, but surely-- surely it wouldn’t hurt if she just read the titles. If she just stooped down the tiniest bit and--

And tripped over Souji, shoulder-deep beneath Yamazaki’s mattress. “W-what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he grunts, annoyed. “A guy that uptight’s got to be hiding something. And not just the normal stuff. The kind of something that’s gotta be top shelf fucked up.”

She blinks. “Huh?”

“Oh come on, you know what I mean. Whips and chains.” He drags his arm out with a huff. “Autoerotic asphyxiation. Snuff tapes.” Souji reaches up, flipping over his pillows. “Yiffing. Who could say what a small-dicked little turd like him is into?”

Half those words are unrecognizable, and so it’s not until he’s on his feet, poking through desk drawers that Chizuru realizes, “You mean you’re looking for...for...” Her mouth works, cheeks painfully hot as she manages, “Girlie magazines?”

His fingers still, pressed into a sheaf of glossy page edges. “I’m trying to find porn, Chizuru. That’s what we call it this century.”

The book shuts with a snap, joining its friends on the shelf, and when he reaches for another, she blurts out, “Don’t people just watch that online now?”

Souji laughs, not kind, but abandons the bookshelf. “And everyone thinks you’re so innocent, huh, princess?”

Her hands clap to her cheeks. Ah, she hadn’t realized it could be painful to blush. “I, um...only, ah--” Souji flings open the closet “--I don’t think you should really be--!”

“Jackpot.” The hangers rattle as he slips something off the rack; with only the sunlight eking in around the blinds to light the room, it’s hard to see just what. “What do you think? Would it look good on me?”

The fabric’s black, limp and shapeless on its hanger, utterly unrecognizable. “I don’t...?”

“Nah, no way I could fit into that shrimp’s costumes.” The light might be dim, but Souji’s teeth practically glow when he says, “But you could, half pint. C’mon, get over here.”

She doesn’t have much of a choice, not when he grabs her wrist and yanks. “I don’t understand,” she murmurs, watching him separate a smaller piece from the whole, more uncomfortable by the second. “Why did you need me when you were only going to..um...?”

Steal seems a little strong for the moment. Scrounge falls a little short.

“Ahhh, see, kid, last night I left a little gift for the whole student body. Right on the main page, where everyone could appreciate it.” He steps entirely too close, the warmth of his body filling the space between them. “And our favorite little ass-kisser didn’t appreciate it.”

The scrap slips over her head, cool and smooth where it settles around her neck. “So he took it down. Or got some of his nerd friends to do it. Either way...” Souji shrugs. “It’s rude to give back a gift, isn’t it?”

His wrist twists, the cloth pulling tight against her skin. Tight enough that only a twitch guides her into a nod. “See? That’s what I thought too. Kid needs to learn a thing or two about manners. So that’s what I��m doing.” Souji grins, the fabric loosening as he lets it slip from his fingers. “Teaching him a lesson.”

“B-but...” Her focus stumbles as he steps closer, threading his hand beneath the few inches of her hair that don’t clear the fabric and pulling them free. “I don’t see what that has to do with me.”

“It’s cute that you don’t know.” His smile could cut when he slips the cloth right up over her nose. “This is a hostage situation, jailbait, and you’re going to read from the script. Now look over here.”

She does, blinking right up into the blinding light of flash photography as his arm squeezes her close. “What...?”

“Perfect.” Souji’s lips slant to a smirk, phone pinched delicately between his fingers. “Now I just need to post this in--”

The lights flick on. Neither of them are near the switch.

But Hajime is.

“Just what,” he says, brows drawn down like a storm, “do you think you’re doing in here?”

There have only been three house meetings since Chizuru showed up on their doorstep, hair shorn and all her earthly possessions split between a backpack and a trash bag: the first, called by the professor, to announce that that there would be a new roommate; the second, to decide how exactly to handle the fact that Chizuru wasn’t a boy’s name, nor was she; and the third, well...

I’m not complaining that you invite girls back, Sano, Shinpachi had said, with all the gravitas of a judge, but you can’t let them wander around. She went through our trash, dude!

But this-- it’s different. Not just because of the Christmas lights, festively twinkling through their cycle, or Shinpachi’s sweater blinking through its own.

It’s that they’re all here, Christmas afternoon-- evening really, with how early the sun sets these days-- holidays cut short. Chizuru might not have anyone to spent Christmas with, but Shinpachi did, and Heisuke, and Yamazaki--

And instead they’re all here. Because of her. Not a single one of them is smiling.

It’s too much.

“I’m so sorry!” The words burst out of her, rushed, but it’s important to get them out before anyone else can speak, before they think she’s only sorry because she got caught. “I really didn’t mean to go in! I just...Souji said...”

“Narc.” It’s muffled in his shoulder, just loud enough for her to hear. And maybe others, the way Yamazaki’s brow twitches across the table.

“Chizu, Chizu. Come on.” Shinpachi holds up his hands, as if a half-hearted sweep like that could clear the slate of her worries.. “No one here thinks this is your fault.”

It’s kind of him to say, but that’s...impossible. Not when she’s so clearly transgressed. “I went into Y-Yamazaki and Hajime’s room without permission. That’s against the--”

“No, Yukimura, that’s not--” Yamazaki’s teeth clack down, hard. “I don’t mind if it’s you. Ah, I mean--” his ears flush the same angry pink that licks up the column of his neck “--it’s, er, different.”

“You are respectful of other people’s personal belongings,” Hajime clarifies. “There is no issue with you in our private space. Souji, however...”

“Oh, come on.” Souji kicks his feet up on the coffee table, baring every hole in the bottom of them. “It’s not like I broke anything.”

Yamazaki’s eyes hone onto him-- or rather, the parts of him only inches from Harada’s iced mocha, so close a flex of a toe could touch the coaster. “Right, you only stole something. Not like that’s a big deal.”

“Stole? Like I want--” with a sweep of his palm, Yamazaki clears the surface of appendages, so precise it doesn’t even disrupt the condensation on the cup “--hey!”

He doesn’t smile, but when Yamazaki glances up at the couch, his satisfaction shines just as bright as one.

“Souji.”

Hajime is not like Shinpachi, using his outdoor voice in every room no matter how small, or Heisuke, unable to control his volume once a conversation gets interesting. He’s soft spoken, serious; the sort of person other people lean in to hear, rather than ask him to speak up.

But today, he pitches his voice to be heard. “You cannot enter someone’s assigned private room without express permission.” With even graver inflection, he adds “It is against the rules put forth in the Signed Housing Agreement.”

Souji snorts, sinking further into the couch cushions. “No one pays attention to that crap.”

Air hisses between Yamazaki’s teeth. “That’s--”

“If I am not allowed to leave the group chat unless a member of the house boots me for a pre-agreed upon duration,” Hajime says, mouth pulling thin, “then you are also not allowed in my room.”

His glare is hardly aimed at her, but it comes close enough that she flinches. Souji doesn’t, refusing to acknowledge it that same way a cat declined to be caught on a curtain, as if reality was simply an opinion he did or did not hold. “I didn’t even touch your stuff. I don’t know why you’re trying to--”

“You did touch Yamazaki’s stuff, though.” Harada shifts in his chair, the vee of his sweater dipping deep enough to bare cleavage. It might be distracting, if it wasn’t already a relief that he was wearing all his clothes. “Which is against the rules.”

“Yeah, that’s fucked up, right?” Shinpachi cracks open a tall boy, cold enough that the beer fizzes out, threatening to drip right across the festive moose on his chest; HORNY AND WELL HUNG according to the words knit into his sweater. “There’s no locks on the doors, man. We’ve all got to trust each other.”

Chizuru blinks. “But I have a lock.”

He pauses, mid-sip. “Well, I guess that makes sense. You’re a girl, after all. Can’t have a girl be alone with a bunch of guys if there no--”

“My room also has a lock.” Hajime frowns, considering the socks Souji’s just returned to the table. “Hardly a good one, if Souji was able to bypass it with just his foot, but...”

“Me too,” Heisuke chimes in. “I just don’t really use it.”

“Wait, what?” Shinpachi swivels between them, lost. “Are me and Sano the only ones who don’t--?”

“I think the best course of action is to inform Professor Hijikata about the infraction.” Kneeling on the carpet next to Shinpachi’s luggage, Yamazaki’s hardly an authority figure, but when he raises his voice the room fritters to silence. “I’m sure he can take it from there.”

Harada hums, unconvinced. “I don’t know about that. Souji’s already got two strikes against him. If we report another one, I’m pretty sure Hijikata’s going to toss him out.”

They might be more suggestions than eyebrows, but still, it makes an impression when Yamazaki furrows them. “I don’t see why that’s any of my concern.”

“Aw, c’mon, Yamazaki.” They all might tease her about her pleading eyes, but it’s Heisuke that uses them now, as compelling as any puppy in a pet store window. “You know Souji doesn’t have anywhere else to go. You wouldn’t throw him out in the cold just like that, would you?”

His mouth pinches, bracing the way the rest of him is, squared off and utterly implacable. “Souji is a grown man who can make his own decisions. If those decisions lead to him getting tossed out, that hardly has anything to do with me.”

Souji snorts. “None of the people who complained are even here anymore.”

Yamazaki whips around, eyes so cold they could turn any other man to ice. Souji just smirks. “Yes, because of you.”

“Well, I don’t know...” Heisuke hums, thoughtful. “Ryu left because of that art program. You know, the one that had the scholarship.”

“Only after Okita shoved him off--!”

“Oh, c’mon.” Souji’s shoulder twitch, barely summoning up the energy for a full shrug. “That’s all water under the bridge.”

Yamazaki surges to his feet; only Harada’s hand, keeping him from jumping the table too. “You broke his wrist in three places! The only reason he didn’t press charges was because his foster father is somehow an even bigger asshole than you!”

Souji picks his grins the same way a chef picks his knives from the block: with the intention to cut. “No hard feelings.”

“Hard feelings?” Yamazaki chokes out. “You think this is about hard feelings? When Itou left, he--”

“Itou was a prick.”

Hajime doesn’t so much sigh as hum, raspy and dubious. “That doesn’t mean that what you did was right, Souji.”

His eyes narrow, annoyed. “Don’t pretend you miss him running around the place, acting better than everyone.”

“No, no. He’s got a point.” The easy chair grunts as Shinpachi shifts his weight back, crossing his legs ankle to knee. “They both do. You know I don’t want to kick you out, man, but you’ve got a bad habit of taking stuff way past funny right into, well...”

“An actionable offense?” Harada offers, wry.

A blunt nail taps at his can, uncomfortable. “Yeah, that. It’s not good, bro.”

Something happens with Souji’s mouth. A lot of somethings, actually; subtle ones, hidden in the corners and tucked into the cheeks, the sort that happen between one blink and the next. Missable, save for the fact that Chizuru never looks away.

There’s a jut of his lip first, not a pout but its more serious cousin, the kind that’s like a levee to a deluge: one tremble away from a flood. A scowl next, never quite reaching his eyes; good practice for the smile that follows, curving into a smirk the way steel takes an edge: like it’s meant for it.

“All right, all right.” His hands raise up, too lax for a peace offering. It might stand in for a concession, if she tilted her head and squinted, but only a little. “So you’re all mad at me or whatever.”

“For good reason.” It’s a strong stance for Harada; he’s usually the one who’s quick to compromise, so long as it keeps everyone civil.

“Sure, right.” Souji shrugs, unconcerned. “I get it. But consider--” fabric whips out from behind a pillow, matte and black-- “this.”

Chizuru blinks. “Wasn’t that in...?”

Yamazaki’s closet, she doesn’t say. Not when he shakes it out, turning it from cloth to clothing, a whole jumpsuit with fussy embroidery picked out in an even darker black.

“What’s that?” Shinpachi scoots to the edge of his chair, squinting. He must not have his contacts in. “Some sort of ninja costume?”

She knows better than to turn, to draw attention to the statue suddenly sitting across the table, but Chizuru can’t help it, not when Souji is so quick to say, “It is.” There’s enough relish in his tone that she can taste it. “And it’s Yamazaki’s.”

There’s a pause-- for effect, she’s sure, considering the way Souji grins. Like he’s pulled off some magic trick, making his troubles disappear in one hand and then plucking them out from behind Yamazaki’s ear.

“So?” Harada snorts, unimpressed. “Are you surprised? He’s been a ninja for Halloween like, what? Three years running? Since I’ve been here at least. What next? Gonna pull a sexy firefighter out of Shin’s closet?”

“Hey!” A hand presses right over WELL, leaving HORNY and HUNG peeking out from underneath it. “I’ve branched out! This year I was a sexy soldier.”

“How can you tell?” Heisuke mutters, hunched shoulders making his chest even narrower, more concave. “You’re only wearing like half a costume.”

“We’re not talking about Nagakura.” With all the subtlety of a bomb, Souji drops, “We’re talking about Mr Kiss-Ass and how he has like, five of these tucked away for a rainy day.”

It’s been three months since Chizuru managed to insinuate herself into the house, but not once has it been quiet. Even in the night there’s something: Shinpachi snoring, Harada’s flings trying to find the front door, Heisuke up entirely too late typing up papers or-- more likely-- playing video games. Something. But now--

Now it’s a ringing silence that’s left in Souji’s wake, an awkward air that has every shoulder stiff, every eye finding somewhere else to look besides the place where Yamazaki sits, still as a stone.

Or at least, until Hajime slides forward, dexterous fingers smoothing over the raised stitches of the sleeve. “Oh,” he hums, impressed. “Your skills have really improved since your last attempt. I take it this is for next weekend?”

“Ah...” He swallows, loud enough that even Chizuru can hear. “Y-yeah. The new kunai were too heavy for the belt, so I thought if I remade that, I might as well add a few more quality of life adjustments, and, er...”

“Oh my god,” Heisuke breathes, quivering like a corgi at the end of his leash. “Are you a real ninja?”

A broad hand cuffs him on the back of his head. “C’mon,” Harada mutters. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

If Yamazaki’s ears were painted pink before, they’re crimson now, hot enough to burn from touch alone. The square of his shoulders deflates, rounding with the slow leak of his confidence, but--

But Hajime simply nods, stroking his chin. “Perhaps I should look at my own as well. It hardly feels adequate next to all the work you’ve done.”

“Is this like...a sex thing?” Shinpachi’s eyes dart between the two of them. “It’s a sex thing, right?”

“No,” Yamazaki says, stern, immediately undermined by Hajime’s, “A little.”

It’s with a hefty heaping of betrayal that Yamazaki turns to him, glaring as he grounds out, “Absolutely not.”

Hajime’s mouth gives a dubious twist, and he opens it, perhaps to gainsay him, but--

But there’s no time, not when Heisuke practically explodes. “Are you a ninja too, Hajime?”

He blinks. “No.”

“Oh.” Heisuke deflates. “Okay, I guess...”

“I’m a samurai.”

“What--” Harada’s voice strains beneath the words “--is going on?”

“So let me get this straight.” Harada’s fingers pinch at the bridge of his nose, but by the wrinkle above them, Chizuru doubts it helps. “You two...dress up as samurai...?”

“I’m the samurai,” Hajime explains, so helpful. “Yamazaki is currently playing as a ninja. As he typically does.”

“You don’t have to tell them that,” he mutters. “That’s not really the point--”

“Right, of course, but...” Harada grimaces. “This is what you do on the weekends? For fun?”

A narrow shoulder lifts under Hajime’s tee, the closest he comes to a shrug. “An afternoon a month, to be more specific.”

“Once a month?” Heisuke asks, wide-eyed. “That doesn’t seem like a lot.”

“It takes a large amount of effort and dedication to keep up a long-form Live Action Roleplaying campaign,” he explains gravely. “That the organizers are able to run so often is a testament to their skill. And to run a weekend event--”

“So you mean you go there the whole weekend?” Heisuke blinks. “Like just forty-eight hours of samurai stuff?”

Hajime’s correction comes the same way as all his interactions: swiftly and without any judgment. “Seventy-two hours.”

Shinpachi goggles. “That’s a lot of fucking hours.”

“It is to aid with immersion.” Hajime isn’t a man of many words, but now he does not so much pause as he does breathe. “Unlike other games of its kind, Legend of the Five Rings does not focus so much on combat as it does internal conflict, and the robust worldbuilding--”

“This isn’t what they’re asking.” Yamazaki’s gaze darts wide-eyed around the table, never daring to stay longer than a blink. “You don’t have to--”

“--Is based on Sengoku Era Japan,” he continues, heedless. “As gratifying as it is to play on a regular basis, it really isn’t until a few hours into any session that people truly come to embody their roles. The court politics alone--”

“Saito.” Yamazaki may be seated at the opposite end of the living room, but his stare is enough to make even Hajime hesitate. “I think they get the idea.”

Harada looks between them, pained. “So are there...scripts or something?”

“No. Yes.” Hajime frowns. “It’s complicated. Each scene is improvised in character, but the organizers are present to facilitate the flow of the story. It is a collaborative effort.”

“But that’s it?” Heisuke asks. “You’re just like...samurai for a day? Or, er, three of them?”

“Yes.”

“And you do this--” Harada’s eyebrows furrow, pained “--for fun?”

Hajime doesn’t answer so much as cock his head, hands outspread as if to say, what else?

“That’s so...so cool!” Heisuke leaps to his feet, practically tripping over the table in his excitement. “Can I go? You guys gotta bring me!”

“What?” Harada blinks at him. “You want to go to this?”

“Uh, yeah?” His hands clench, too excited. “You get to be a samurai, Sano! Who wouldn’t want to?”

“Hey, so.” Shinpachi leans in, face pinched in curiosity. “Is this like...D&D or whatever?”

“In spirit,” Yamazaki creaks out, looking like death warmed over.

He nods. “Right, right. So like...a total sausage fest, or...?”

“The numbers on many tabletop games typically skews toward male,” Hajime explains, “but Live Action Roleplaying draws a higher percentage of female participants. Possibly due to the cosplay aspect.”

Shinpachi grins. “Oh, then count me in too, sensei.”

Harada stares at him. “Who are you?”

“What?” Shinpachi shrugs. “It’s math with babes. What’s not to love?”

“Ah...” Yamazaki waving hands don’t do much to hide his grimace. “I don’t really think this will be as interesting to you as you think...”

“He’s right,” Harada presses. “You may think it’s a good place to pick up women who aren’t afraid of, er, theoretical numbers--”

“They’re not theoretical,” Shinpachi huffs. “They’re real, it’s just the equations used to describe them are--“

“See? Already my eyes have glazed over.”

“I don’t know,” Chizuru hums, pitched just loud enough to be heard. “I think it sounds...fun?”

Yamazaki’s stare fixes on her. “Really?”

Even as a girl, Chizuru had never been one to play dress up, never been one to play pretend-- father didn’t approve, for one. Not when there were more direct benefits to be had from drilling flashcards or reading books. A second, her daydreams were vivid enough she hardly needed to act them out, not when Father was so apt to remind her, princesses don’t have to pass their medical exams.

But Yamazaki is as serious as they come, a TA for the dean of the pre-med department even before graduating. His acceptance to the medical school almost assured, and he finds this worth his time. Enough to have made a costume-- with his own hands!-- and sign up for a whole weekend away from his studies...

“Y-yeah.” She ducks her head, hoping to hide the heat that pricks at her cheeks. “I mean, as long as it wouldn’t be a bother for me to, um...”

“Ah, no! I mean, yes. Never.” Yamazaki shakes himself, pink staining the high arch of his cheekbones. “It’s not a problem.”

“Yeah, Chizu!” An arm clamps around her shoulders, dragging her against Shinpachi’s personal light display. “That’s right! Let’s all go. House field trip!”

Yamazaki’s jaw drops. “I don’t, er, know about that--!”

“Fine.” Harada sighs, getting to his feet. “If Chizuru wants to go. Count me in.”

“That’s the spirit!” Shinpachi claps him on the back, hard enough that even Harada has to cough. “Now, that just leaves...?”

“Uh-uh.” Souji’s arms fold over his chest, forbidding. “No way I’m going to your nerd party.”

“Aw, c’mon.” Shinpachi drops between them on the couch, arm pulling tight. “Think of it as a group bonding experience.”

Souji scowls. “What makes you think I care about bonding with any of you--”

“Well, if you’re going to be that way about it.” He squeezes tight enough to eke a squeak out of him. “Think about it as, ‘if you go we won’t tell Hijikata about you stealing shit.”

Souji glowers. “Fine,” he grumbles, shoving him off. “But I won’t like it!”

Shinpachi’s smile is all knives when he replies, “Wouldn’t expect you to.”

It’s dark when Chizuru stumbles out into the hall; there’d been daylight still when they’d piled into the parlor, but now night clings to the the edges of dusk, only enough light to gild the snow in golden shadow. It might bother her more if it wasn’t such a relief, a respite from having to scrape at the last reserve of her smiles. And so she takes it; one big breath and the muscles around her mouth slump, aching from use.

Any other night, she might worry about one of the boys following out behind her, but she can hear the ruckus shift from the parlor toward the kitchen, wheeled baggage and Shinpachi’s booming voice all tromping toward the back stair. Her day may have happened in fits and starts, but everyone else has been on the move, going from Christmas to short notice travel to fraught house meeting all within the space of hours. There’s no one who’s going to be worried about her.

Which suits her just fine. A few minutes lying face down on her comforter and she’ll be right as rain. Just a breath or two to herself, and--

Someone huffs behind her. Right behind her.

She whips around so fast, she nearly tumbles Yamazaki into the wall with her. Or at least his arm, half outstretched, now just hanging there in the air between them.

“Oh!” There’s no reason for her to shy back, but she does, guiltier with every inch. “Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to--”

“No, no. It’s my fault.” His hands aren’t large, not like Harada or Shinpachi, but the fingers are long and tapered, digging runnels through the shaggy bristle of his hair. “I should have-- ah, I mean, I just saw you, and er, wanted to make sure that you were all right. After, ah...all that.”

Her first instinct urges her to laugh, to let her nerves giggle out, there’s no need to worry about me--

But Yamazaki stares at her with the same careful intensity as he had in the kitchen-- you’re worth a good meal-- and Chizuru tries deflection instead. “I’m the one who should be asking you that! I went into your room without any permission and all, and Souji--” Yamazaki grimaces at the name “---I just...you have every right to be mad at me!”

“You?” he echoes, incredulous. “It’s not your fault, Yukimura. Okita’s the one who dragged you in there.”

She shakes her head. “I could have chosen to leave any time. I just was too curious to think to question him.”

“Curious?” There’s no inflection to the word, and with the shadows making a muddle of his expressions, there’s only the tilt of his head to tell here there’s a question. “Why would you be curious?”

“Ah, I’d just...never been inside before?” Her palms clap to her cheeks, and oh, she must glow from how hot her cheeks burn. “It’s silly.”

“It’s not! It’s just, ah...unexpected. I...” His mouth opens, as if he might say more, but with a lick of his lips, it closes instead. Or rather, his chin dips down and it follows, gaze dropping from her eyes to somewhere at her neck. As if...

“Oh, did I spill...?” She can’t actually remember what she’s eaten today, whether it could be something that she could walk around wearing, but Yamazaki’s already shaking his head.

“Ah, no, it’s just...you still have...” His fingers curl hesitantly in the air between them. “If you would let me...?”

Every twitching nerve of her stills as he steps close, fingers skimming past her shoulders. Only days ago she’d knotted his scarf, but it feels different now that he’s the one reaching, so close his hand meet behind her neck. He’s not bundled up now, no three layers of wool and thermal and parka to keep her from realizing that he smells nice, like...like something clean with a hint of eucalyptus, and it’s...

It’s a lot.

His fingers knit into the fabric at her nape, too slippery for him to find the end of it by touch. At least, the first time; he gathers it up, hiking it higher and higher until he can slide under it, the flat of his nails smooth and warm against her neck. Her pulse pounds so hard he must feel it, but Yamazaki doesn’t flinch, instead lifting it with surgical precision. The stretchy fabric threads right off her ponytail with no more than that initial brush of fingers, and she--

She stare. It’s the mask. The one Souji put on her. All this time, and she’s-- she’s just been wearing it, like some sort of...scarf. Right over her tanuki pajamas. In front of everyone.

In front of Yamazaki.

If she could melt into the woodwork, it would be a miracle. But as always, reality refuses to oblige her. “Oh, I hadn’t even...ah...”

“Please, don’t worry about it.” His fingers smooth over the fabric, mouth curving into a rueful smile. “It looked better on you than it does on me.”

“Ah!” Her gasp catches in her throat. “That’s not...um...” She hakes her head, hoping that might clear enough room for a sentence or two to compose itself. “I don’t think that’s true.”

Yamazaki glances up at her, amused, and oh-- she hadn’t meant to say that. Not like that.

“You know, I meant to...” He stops himself. Not abruptly, like she does, but a slow, thoughtful halt. Like a train pulling into a station rather than a car braking for a yellow light. “I mean, I don’t think I ever got around to saying it last night, and today, with everything...well”

He hesitates again, a breath hissing between his teeth. But this time his shoulders square, and even though his gaze is lost in the shadow of his brows, she knows he’s looking at her. “Merry Christmas, Yukimura.”

#yamachi #hakuouki #my fic #modern au #college au #If the Mind Is Willing #LARP au #FINALLY THE REVEAL IS HERE #writing a group scene with like six dudes is the absolute worst let me tell you that #and i have so many more of them to go next chapter #while having to explain an obscure tabletop game #BUCKLE UP KIDS IT'S TIME TO LEARN ABOUT BUSHIDO

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daisychainsandbowties · 2 years ago

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10 17 22 idk if you've done those I'm illiterate

10. Has a piece of writing ever "haunted" you? has your own writing haunted you? what does that mean to you?

EM. YOU. yourself. come over here and ask if i am haunted?? yes, every day, by the image of shannon slipping mary's motorcycle helmet off her head. this:

"then she steps forward and removes Mary's helmet with careful hands and Beatrice has never felt more a voyeur in her life than when she watches Sister Shannon dab the blood from Mary's split lip with the pad of her thumb. Watches Mary bat her hand away, her eyes rolling, "I'm fucking fine" and "Language" a practiced one two punch" ~ tmtl ch. 1

and this:

"Lilith shudders at her touch, makes a mournful sound, then comes awake in an instant.... Beatrice withdraws, sits for a moment on the edge of Lilith's bed before rising. Lilith's melodramatic groan of relief makes her tempted to drop back down, to curl up alongside her and try to pick the pieces out of her, to reassemble them and form an image that's whole, but she resists. All the better to let sleeping Liliths lie."

~ tmtl ch. 3

i terms of other things i think the book of the outsider trilogy by Mark Lawrence is quite haunting, as a story. i find a lot of the poetry i read very haunting. but mostly it is lines like those above - moments of absolute intimacy shadowed by restraint. that line from harrow the ninth that goes "you were so afraid she might touch you. you were so afraid anyone might touch you. you had always been afraid of anyone touching you, and had not known your longing flinch was so obvious to those who tried."

my own writing... sometimes. when i write about sickness, certainly. that feels haunting. but mostly my own writing is when i let the ghosts fly out of the window.

17. talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. tell me about the lore, the history, the things that won't make it in the text.

as you well know i have about eight WIPs. but my actual novel really actually resonates with that very popular line from, again, tasmuir "love is too long and life is too short" but ah... kind of flipped. what happens when the life goes on and the love is there but not the beloved? the story started there, moved onto a dragon with a clockwork heart and a boy and the colour purple, of a very empty landscape and the very loud dead. naturally i have spider-people and none of my characters have bodies without a bit or the horrific or the angelic crammed into them (often both). the lore is a lot, but the story is about gods and spitting in the face of fate. it has Monster Hunter vibes and also a bit of Cormac McCarthy's the road (vast emptiness. two bodies inside it). it has all the things i like - horror and blood and intimacy. but yeah, the lore doc is a chonky boi.

22. how organised are you with your writing? describe to me your organisation method, if it exists.

my entire process involves the notes app on my phone and like three documents all called the same thing except lore 1, lore 2, lore 3 where i dump vomited-up fragments of sentences and half-baked ideas and then occasionally a 8000 word dump of pristine lore. i plot only inside my own brain. my masters thesis supervisor had to cut me open to get a plot outline from inside me, and it was all lies anyway. i am more of a character writer than a plot-specialist, but i feel like once i have My Guys and A Problem the story pretty much writes itself (and i'm so wrong about that). mostly i outline in my brain and then by writing random lines from the start, the midish, and the kind-of-end, and then i do linguistic gymnastics to reach those sentences. (and boy am i clumsy)

i type everything. writing with pen + paper is still not my favourite thing to do - still slow and a bit painful - so i prefer to type. i have calluses, in fact, from typing, which is really quite embarrassing.

#em but not pvp #casper writes #you ask me an organisation question like you don't already know i have clown blood

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unavidas · 2 years ago

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back to celrond posting ✨

#once again I am here to deliver celrond content #it is concerning how much I think about and draw them #I really read 3 lines of text and was like ah yes those two. those two are the ones im gonna hyperfixate on for eternity #celrond #elrond and celebrían #elrond peredhel #celebrían #elrond #lotr #silm #silm art #the lord of the rings #the silmarillion #tolkien #fan art #my art

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potsandpains · 2 years ago

Text

practically perfect in every way part 4

hotch x fem!reader

AN: ooookay im still alive!! let me know what y'all think of this!!!

jack is 6 at the beginning of this, haley is,,, not living (rip) and hotch is aorund 40ish in this! reader is 25-26ish.

summary: aaron is feelin real angsty over how much he likes his son's nanny, and his angst is made worse by said nanny having a boyfriend he is NOT a fan of

plus a little action in this one wink wink

CW: asshole boyfriend??? i think that's it???

part 1:

part 2:

part 3:

/ / /

“Garcia do we have an address for the suspect’s parents?” Hotch said into his phone.

“Yes sir,” she replied, “looks like Kurt and Cheryl are at 1312 y/n Drive. Sending you the address now!”

“Thank you.” He hung up.

How funny, he thought, what are the odds a tiny town with a population of less than 20,000 people would have a street with her name on it?

When he and Morgan rounded the corner to the address, he took a picture of the street sign and sent y/n a text.

AH: Saw your name on a street sign in the middle of nowhere. Funny, right?

She responded almost immediately.

YN: Oh that’s way funny! Any way you could pull some FBI strings and steal the sign for me? It would make for a great wall decoration lol

AH: Something tells me theft of city property might be an abuse of my position. Sorry.

YN: All good, boss man. Only joking lol.

It had been a few weeks since the black eye incident. Their moment in the kitchen (so rudely interrupted by Jack. Aaron loved his son but he didn’t know if he’d ever been so exasperated with him than in that very moment) lingered in Aaron’s memory. His dynamic with y/n hadn’t changed dramatically, but it didn’t necessarily feel like it had never happened either.

She was still her bubbly self, he the stoic grouch she claimed he was. She teased him and he teased back with enough encouragement. But something was different.

He caught her looking at him with the same tender expression he had caught that night more and more, and he wasn’t sure if it was because it was occurring with greater frequency or because she wasn’t hiding it.

He found himself more apt to be close to her. They had never been physically affectionate, but she now gave him a hug goodbye before she left every night, and when he got home from cases he hugged both Jack and her.

He felt like he was back in middle school, losing his mind over hugging her. But he loved being able to wrap his arms around her and hold her tight, even if it was just for a second or two.

Those seconds were precious to him, as she now was spending more and more time with Braden.

Y/n and Braden had met while in line at the grocery store. Y/n was picking up groceries for the Hotchners when she realized she had forgotten goldfish crackers for Jack. So, turning to the person behind her, she asked if he could hold her space in line while she went to grab them.

He said he would, in exchange for her phone number and a coffee date.

At least, that’s how y/n explained it to Aaron. She and Braden went on the coffee date and had gotten along quite well, and had been texting ever since.

Aaron, having never met him, obviously hated him.

He was sure he was fine, really, but he hated that Braden apparently had more guts than he did.

Aaron Hotchner, unit chief of the BAU, an FBI agent who chased psychopaths for a living, had been too scared to act on how he felt, and as a result had to listen to y/n talk about whoever Braden was, heart wincing every time.

He found out who Braden was, naturally.

Besides y/n’s description, he had Garcia run a very thorough background check the minute he got a last name from Y/n. Braden Casey; a high school math teacher who enjoyed dogs, hiking, and reading in his free time. Besides having an odd fixation with self-help podcasts (who listens to 4 different podcasts on how to become ‘the man’?) no red flags arose from the report he received from Garcia, but there was something about him that Aaron simply did not trust.

Y/n didn’t talk about him much. He assumed it was because she was trying to be somewhat professional around him. He hoped it was to spare his feelings.

He tried to be encouraging and supportive. “What’s Braden like?” He had asked her.

“He’s great,” She had said. “I don’t know, he’s always working towards being a better version of himself, and he really wants to be the best person he can. It’s something I really admire about him.”

He hoped that was true.

They dated slowly, he thought. Apparently Braden did a lot of after school tutoring and wasn’t free many evenings and heaven knows y/n was busy with Jack, so they didn’t go out often.

He learned from y/n this was called the “talking stage,” where they weren’t strictly dating each other but were still communicating and maintaining interest.

Thus, another reason he thought Braden an idiot. Y/n wasn’t the kind of person with whom you had a talking stage, he had thought. Aaron thought if he were smart Braden would snap y/n up as quickly as he could. Although, he wished he wouldn’t.

That’s what he would have done, if hadn’t psyched himself out. He tried to convince himself to own up to what he felt and to simply tell her. It would be much easier to have it out in the open if she wasn’t in a committed relationship, right?

But somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. She seemed happy, and he didn’t want to ruin that by saying “hey, i know you’re my son’s nanny and i'm technically your boss but just a heads up I wanted to tell you I’m so in love with you I can hardly function!”

He didn’t think that would end well.

So he was quiet. And patient. And frustrated as hell.

/ / /

Around two months into their “talking stage,” y/n had mentioned to him that she and Braden were officially dating.

“Really?” he asked, feigning excitement. “That’s exciting. Congrats.”

“Thanks!” She replied. “I’m excited.”

“So how is that going to work? He seems pretty busy, and heaven knows we keep you busy enough around here-”

“Oh,” she interrupted. “Braden mapped out a schedule of things so we have an idea of when we’re both free. He says he wants to ‘optimize on any free time so this will work’,” She said, using air quotes with a laugh on her lips.

Aaron briefly considered completely chaning every aspect of Jack’s and y/n’s schedule to throw a wrench in Braden’s plans. Deciding to save his pettiness for another day, he simply nodded.

“That sounds very… organized.” He said.

“Yeah he’s kind of funny about that kind of stuff. Blames it on his math brain, apparently. Everything has a system and a place and he likes things done as neatly as possible.”

What was she, his girlfriend or a calculus problem? He thought to himself.

“Well great. Sounds like he’s thought of everything then.” He said.

She shrugged. “Sure seems like it.”

/ / /

“No, I still can’t make it tonight. Yeah, Jack has a big history project due tomorrow and I really want to be here in case he needs help… No, I can’t just call Jess. Look, I’m sorry you bought tickets for that orchestra concert I told you I couldn’t go to weeks ago but I- Yes, I put it on the google calendar and everything. This project is really important to Jack and I’m not missing it... I really am so sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Aaron was at his desk in his office, listening (while simultaneously trying not to listen) to y/n pace up and down the upstairs hallway on the phone with whom he could only presume to be Braden.

They had been officially dating for three months, and Aaron couldn’t help but notice that things felt off between the two. He didn’t know what exactly, but something had shifted between y/n and Braden and things weren’t as neat and tidy as before.

He sat at his desk, trying (and failing) to read his book as he listened to y/n and Jack work on his history project downstairs. He was supposed to do a report on a person in history he admired. Aaron had assumed he would pick Abraham Lincoln or the Wright brothers or any other historical figure, but Jack had apparently decided that the most influential person in his world was Dr. John Harvey Keller, who had invented the process of making peanut butter.

An odd choice, but Aaron understood the appeal.

After spending an indeterminate amount of time reading and rereading the same page, he called it quits. Closing his book, he placed it on the desk and began walking downstairs. Maybe at least he could help Jack glue pictures to his poster. He was halfway down the stairs when he heard a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it,” he said, “I’m halfway there anyway.”

“Okay!” Jack and y/n chorused from the kitchen.

Years at the BAU had made him cautious of unexpected visitors. He double checked for the small revolver he had stashed in the bookcase next to the door. He had always made sure it was nearly above his own reach so Jack could never get to it. Clicking the lock open and taking it from its hiding place in the fake book, he tucked it into the waistband of his jeans, keeping a hand on it as he opened the door.

Much to his surprise, it wasn’t a maniacal psychopath at his doorstep.

It was worse.

It was Braden.

His button down shirt and tie had a defeated look about them with his tie loosened and top button undone.Aaron noticed his slacks were wrinkled. He cocked his head to the side and looked Aaron up and down.

Aaron’s eyes narrowed.

Braden pushed his wavy hair out of his eyes and stuck his hands in his pockets.

“Is y/n here?” He asked.

Aaron decided to play dumb, pretending that he hadn’t done a background search so thorough he knew exactly what was on Braden’s web browser history.

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Braden Casey. I’m y/n’s boyfriend. You must be Aaron?” He extended a hand to Aaron.

“It’s Mr. Hotchner, thank you.” Aaron nodded. He reached forward and reciprocated his handshake. It was firmer than he anticipated it to be, but still weaker than his own.

Braden swallowed.

“Come in,” He said, “I know she’s pretty busy with Jack, but let me see if she can come to the door.”

Braden didn’t move from his spot on the porch.

God He really needed to quit being so antagonistic.

“You really work her hard, don’t you?” Braden said.

“I’m sorry?”

“Can’t even give her a night off to go to a concert with her boyfriend?” Braden said it as if he was trying to be funny, saying it almost jokingly, but there was bitterness to his words.

“Y/n sets her own hours.” Aaron responded sharply. “Maybe you should ask yourself why she wanted to be here instead of with you.”

“Easy old man, I-”

“Braden?” y/n appeared behind him, looking at Braden over Aaron’s shoulder. “What are you doing here? I gave you the address to the house for emergencies, you aren’t supposed to come here when I’m working.”

“I think it’s an emergency when my girlfriend cancels our date to hang out with a 7 year old.” Braden said, crossing his arm.

Aaron saw anger flash in y/n’s eyes. “Okay, you come with me. If you have something to say to me, we’re going to talk about this like adults.” She pushed past Aaron, meeting Braden on the porch and grabbing him by the arm and pulling him down the steps of the porch. She looked over her shoulder to Aaron. “Tell Jack I’ll be right back.”

He nodded as she closed the door behind her, placing the gun back to its hiding place and walking into the kitchen to find Jack with a glue stick in hand and paper cutouts of peanuts and Dr. John Harvey Keller stuck to his face. He turned to face Aaron, paper crinkling. “Hey dad! Do you like my pictures?”

Aaron sighed. “They’re great, buddy. I’d like them more if they were on your poster, though.”

Jack rubbed his sticky hands together, grinning at the sound it made. “Do you think I could glue my lips shut?”

Aaron pulled the glue stick from his son’s hand. “Glue is for paper, Jack, not for your skin. I know it’s fun to play with, but you need to use it properly or we can’t use it at all. Do you want to take those pictures off yourself or do you want me to help you?”

Jack began pulling them off one by one. “I can do it. Who was at the door?”

Aaron resisted the urge to sigh once again. “Y/n’s friend, Braden.”

“You mean her boooooyfriend?” Jack said.

“Yes, her boyfriend.” He replied.

“I don’t like him.” Jack winced after a piece of paper that was stuck to his eyebrow came off.

“Why not, buddy?”

“Y/n says he’s really nice but if he’s nice he wouldn’t come to our house and stop y/n from helping me with my homework.” He said matter-of-factly.

Aaron thought about that for a second before nodding in agreement. “I guess that’s fair.”

Jack shrugged. “I wish y/n didn’t have a boyfriend, then she could be here all the time.”

“Jack she’s already here pretty much all the time.”

“She doesn’t sleep here all the time.” Jack said defiantly. “She has a different house she sleeps at. The one where she doesn’t have a bathtub.”

“I guess you’re right. I’m sorry, I know you really like her.”

“I love her.” Jack said, smoothing out the pieces of paper he had glued to his face. They were wrinkly, but hopefully would still work.

Aaron just nodded.

“Dad?”

“Yeah buddy.”

“Do you love y/n?” He asked.

Aaron paused, swallowing. His heart ached as he replied, “Yeah Jack, I do.”

He and Jack were working in silence when y/n reappeared, cheeks flushed and eyes watery. Jack was putting the finishing touches on his poster board and was focused on it when Aaron caught y/n’s attention. Are you okay? He mouthed.

She shook her head, looking down.

Aaron cocked his head towards the doorway. Go head upstairs. I’ll get Jack, he mouthed.

She nodded, leaving the kitchen quickly.

“Jack, that looks great,” Aaron said. “I think y/n is super tired and went to bed. Let’s get you to bed too and then we’ll finish it up tomorrow morning.”

Aaron was thankful that Jack went to bed quickly and quietly. He was a smart kid, and clued into the tension that was lingering in the air. After Aaron helped him with scrubbing glue from his face, arms, and hands, he fell asleep right as his head the pillow.

After closing Jack’s door, Aaron found his way in front of y/n’s. He knocked on the door. “Y/n?”

“Come in.”

He eased open the door and found her sitting cross-legged on the bed, clutching a pillow.

“Hey.” He said.

“Hi.” She said.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yes? No? I’m not sure.”

“Can I ask what happened? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but if it would help-”

“I think that would be good. I should talk to someone about all this, I think.” She said.

He didn’t move from his spot by the door. Y/n glanced up towards him. “You can sit down. I won’t make you stand through this.” She sniffed as she patted a spot next to her on the bed. Aaron sat, making sure to keep ample distance between the two of them.

“Have I ever told you that Braden is on a new kick of listening exclusively to classical music?”

He shook his head.

She laughed. There was bitterness in it. “He said that classical and instrumental music makes him feel good. Read about it in some book that it doesn’t distract you like other genres and allows you to focus on being your “best self.” Anything loud and rambunctious sounds like radio static now, apparently.”

Aaron snorted, but said nothing

“I like classical music fine, I just don’t want it to be the only thing I listen to. I am also a hundred percent sure he still listens to all his normal stuff too but he has this weird thing with me where I think he needs to appear like he’s the smartest guy in the room. Classical music really is fine and there are plenty of pieces I like but when I’m with him, that’s all we listen to. Which is fine because he’s comfortable and just fine but what if I said one day that I hate classical music and it sounds like radio static to me? Would he change? Would he listen to the music that I like? Would he drop the stupid act?”

She clutched the pillow tighter, shaking her head. “I like him, I really do, and we get along well, temperament wise. It’s just that our interests are so different and I-” her voice broke and buried her face in the pillow.

“Y/n.” He said.

“What.” she said, her voice muffled by the pillow.

“Is this really about classical music?”

She lifted her head, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “No, I guess it isn’t.

He remained silent, staring at his hands resting in his lap.

“I think-” She started, “I think it’s about more than that. I just- he cancels things all the time because a student needs help tutoring or he has a math club meeting or something like that and I am so chill about it. I never lose it and I’m super understanding. But the one time I took a rain check on an orchestra concert I told him I had no interest in going to he comes to your house

and makes me feel like I’m the worst person in the world because I apparently didn’t “consider his feelings” when I consider his feelings all the damn time.” She cringed. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I just- I don’t think he thinks my work is as important as his and that he somehow needs to prove he’s better than me in some way, even though we literally have the same amount of education and I literally have a published research study on- it doesn’t matter. I- I just - ugh.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Well. That’s another stupid thing.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “He doesn’t want to end things but he wants some time.”

“Like… a break?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“What kind of break?”

“He wants to go no contact for a month. In that month we can date other people and do whatever we like, but if in a month we come back together and we still work, we keep dating.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Aaron couldn’t contain his surprise. “That’s ridiculous.”

“He said it’s to see if we really like each other or if we just haven’t known any different the past few months.”

“Did you agree to it?”

“...I did.”

“Oh.”

“If a month goes by and I still feel the same we can try again. It’s not like we’ll lose our minds and elope if it works out.”

Aaron’s heart dropped into his stomach. He felt a little sick. That was not an image he liked.

“He's-Hotch he is the first guy in ages to treat me decently. He is decent and smart and really good, just a little on the quirky side.”

“Quirky?” Aaron raised his eyebrows. “Is that how you’d describe it?”

“Okay he’s odd and a bit judgemental but I think I should at least try. Don’t you?” She looked exasperated.

“Y/n.” He said, turning to face her. He moved closer.

“What, Hotch?’ She sounded exhausted. She turned to face him.

“You deserve much more than decent.”

She shook her head. “I know. I- I really do know. I'm-”

Aaron interrupted her by wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to him. She stilled, but didn’t pull away.

“You really deserve the best.” Which is definitely not me, he thought cynically. Or your asshole boyfriend.

Her arms found their way around his waist and she squeezed him tight. “Thank you.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “It’ll be okay. You’re smart and capable and lovely, and if he doesn’t see that then I’ll make his life hell.”

“Don’t go all FBI on his ass.”

“I will if I have to.”

She laughed at that, and drew back. “Thanks, Hotch. You’re the best.”

He shook his head. “Just trying to help.”

/ / /

Two weeks after Y/n and Braden started their “break,” Jack got sick. Not just a little sick with a runny nose, he was seriously sick. Fever, vomit, the whole nine yards, all of it.

And y/n was a wreck.

She wasn’t sick herself. She had told Hotch that years of nannying had fortified her immune system so much she rarely got sick anymore, but she was a wreck in trying to help Jack.

He had missed school that day and y/n had stayed home with him. He had been throwing up anything she tried to feed him, and had a fever so high he was sweating through his pajamas. Even worse, Jack was the most ornery sick kid known to mankind. He was stubborn (a trait y/n claimed he got from his dad) and despite how miserable he felt he didn’t like being coddled or being made to feel like a baby. He fought y/n’s attempts to comfort him and screamed with how achy the fever made him.

She had been sending Hotch updates throughout the day. They had just come off a massive case and he had a boatload of paperwork so huge he couldn’t fathom missing a day, even if it broke his heart to do so. He called Jack during his lunch, and was only met with him being furious that his dad wasn’t home to take care of him. Hotch’s heart equally ached that y/n was alone in the ordeal.

She had carted Jack to the doctor the minute he had thrown up (and he had thrown up all over his bed, to top it off) and had come back with no other instructions than “eh it’s just a stomach bug. Let him ride it out and he’ll be fine.”

He had been forced to work late. It was evening when he drove home. On his drive he received a text. Pulling into the driveway, he glanced at his phone.

YN: I think he’s getting better. Still hates my guts, but it seems like his fever is on its way out.

He thought walking in blind was a bad idea, so he sent her a text from the garage.

AH: I just pulled in. Anything in particular you want me to be aware of?

YN: He’s going to be so happy to see you and also probably wants to kill you. Simultaneously. I think he’d kill moving thing right about now.

AN: Noted.

He walked in the house, setting his things on the counter. Making his way through the living room and up the stairs, he found y/n sitting on the edge of Jack’ bed, with Jack clutching his blankets and looking downright murderous.

“Hey buddy.” Aaron started.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” Jack said, folding his arms and turning away from his dad.

He cast a glance at y/n, who gave him an exhausted look. Talk him through what he’s feeling, she mouthed.

“Hey Jack. I’m sorry you’re sick. I know you don’t feel good and that’s never fun.”

Jack shuffled in his bed, folding his arms again with more emphasis, clearly conveying his dissatisfaction.

“And I’m sorry I wasn’t here today. It’s hard being sick at home without your dad here.”

Jack said nothing. Aaron laid his hand on his shoulder and Jack shrugged him off. “Do you want to read a book together? Will that help you feel better?”

Jack shook his head, still keeping quiet. Aaron sighed.

“Jack,” said y/n gently, “you’ve been asking for your dad all day, he’s here now. Are you sure you don’t want to read a story with him?”

Jack threw his covers over his head and burrowed himself into the couch.

Y/n met Aaron’s eyes and gave him a sad smile. “I’m sorry. He’ll lighten up as soon as he’s better.”

Aaron nodding, standing to leave. He was at the door when he heard Jack whisper to y/n.

“Kids are supposed to have moms to take care of them when they’re sick.”

Aaron stilled for a moment, but stepped out of the room, lingering just outside of it. Listening.

The pain was evident in y/n’s voice when she replied. “Jack, honey I’m so sorry. I know you miss your mom.”

“I miss my mom a lot,” Jack said. “but I wish I had a mom now. Y/n, why can’t you be my mom?”

“Oh honey, I love you so much, but I can’t.”

Jack wasn’t whispering now. “Why not? Don’t you love my dad? Why can’t you just be my mom then you don’t have to leave?”

Aaron’s breath caught in his throat.

“Jack- I love you and your dad so so much. But I can’t be your mom. You need to sleep sweetheart, that’s what will help you feel better tomorrow.”

“I want to go to sleep by myself.”

“Okay buddy,” she said. “I’ll let you do that. Call for me if you need me, okay.”

Aaron didn’t hear Jack’s reply as he was quickly making his way downstairs, trying to make his way to the couch without y/n figuring out that he had heard everything.

He hadn’t needed to rush, as it was a few minutes before y/n came down the stairs, looking exhausted. She made her way into the living room and wrapped herself in a blanket as she laid down on the couch. Aaron pretended not to notice how glassy her eyes were, as if she were near tears.

“Hotch, do you… do you think it means something?”

He looked at her, a confused look in his eyes. “What do you mean?”

He saw her eyes well up with tears as she shook her head. He rushed to her side, kneeling beside the couch. “Hey- hey it’s okay. Does what mean something?”

“I just… I don’t think it was an accident Jack hit me with that frisbee.”

Hotch raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

“Not that he did it on purpose. It just seems like too big of a coincidence that I found you guys.”

Hotch smiled softly, reaching up to stroke her hair. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.

“What makes you say that?” He asked, reaching down to wipe her tears from her eyes.

“You’re looking for a nanny and then your son nails one in the head with a frisbee. Seems too perfect.”

He was quiet for a beat. “I guess you could say that. One could say that you’re too perfect.”

She smiled, shaking her head.

“I mean,” he said, “I did see your name on a street sign in the middle of nowhere. That does seem a little too coincidental.”

She let out a tired laugh. “This is all your fault, you know.”

“How?”

“You’re a scorpio. I always get along great with scorpios.”

It was his turn to laugh. “What does that have to do with anything?”

She sat up, saying nothing, and unwrapped herself from the blanket. She patted the spot next to her on the couch. Against his better judgment, he rose from the ground and joined her on the couch. He draped his arm around the back of the couch, and y/n leaned into his side.

They sat like that for a while. He didn’t know how long. Somewhere along the way his arm left the back of the couch and found its way around y/n’s shoulders. Her hands, previously twisting in her lap, had ended up wrapped around his waist and her head resting on his chest.

He knew this about y/n, but once she started crying it was difficult for her to stop. Even if things were just fine and everything was figured out, if tears had been shed they would keep being shed. Weirdly enough, it was one of the things Aaron really liked about her. She had a tender heart that had a hard time turning off. He wished he could relate.

Slow tears continued to roll down her cheeks as they sat together in the silence.

"I can't really explain why i think this all has to mean something" y/n said quietly after a while, "Maybe I'm thinking too much about it, but i can't seem to not think about you."

he paused before replying, thumb rubbing circles on the arm he still had wrapped around her. "I don't know if I ever told you this, but the first time I met you I had a really good feeling about you. Call it a gut feeling, I guess. I don't trust my gut to make decisions for me very often because things usually end up crazy, but I've never doubted, even for a second that you were meant to be here."

A thick quiet coated the room. Too many things he wished he could do, too many things he wished she would say.

“Hotch?” she eventually said.

He hummed in response. She lifted her head to look at him, tears still in her eyes. “I’m really glad you found me.”

Aaron was sure his heart was about to burst. His mouth opened to form a response when he saw y/n’s eyes drop to his lips. His eyes dropped to hers.

When his eyes found their way up to hers, they met him with a look he recognized in himself. It was a look of achingly delicate longing, painted clearly on her expression.

Slowly, painfully slowly, he lowered his mouth to hers. He wanted to give her as much time as possible to back off or push him away or tell him off if he was so desperately in love with her he had misread the look on her face.

She did quite the opposite, tilting her chin upward and meeting him halfway. His hand came up to cup her face as hers found its way to grip his forearm as his lips found hers.

It was different than he thought it would be. When he thought about (and he thought about it often) he had always imagined his first kiss with her would be fast, desperate, or so undeniably passionate that he would immediately lose all control of himself.

This was infinitely better, he decided. It was soft and slow and tender and achingly sweet. As her lips slanted over his, he found himself turning towards her, guiding her legs over his lap as his arms found his way around her waist. Her hands came up to rest on both sides of his face as she sighed into his mouth.

Yes, much better. He concluded that this kind of kissing was his favorite. He wasn’t rushed or frantic. They were both exhausted, and had fallen together slowly, comfortably, and he had such a warm, cozy feeling in his chest and in his head and he didn’t know how he had gone this long without kissing her. Hell, he wasn’t sure how he was ever going to stop.

When he did eventually stop, he pulled away gently, y/n’s hands still framing his face. He tightened his arms around her waist, pulling her into a close embrace. Her head found its way into the crook of his neck.

“I’m even more glad you found us,” He said.

He felt y/n smile as she pressed a chaste kiss to his neck. They sat like that for awhile until he felt her relax against him and her breathing slowed. She had fallen asleep.

Aaron sat up from the couch, y/n still in his arms. He carried her up to the guest room and laid her gently in the bed, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he tucked her in the blankets.

“Practically perfect in every way. Garcia was right.”

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@strangunddurm

@realdirectionx

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x fem!reader #hotch #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner imagine #agent hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #bau family #jack hotchner

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thegirlwhobrokeintothetardis · 4 years ago

Text

Tricked Into It (Greg Gerwitz x Reader)

Word Count: 1,957

Pairing: Greg Gerwitz aka Mouse x Reader

Summary: Ever since your last breakup with someone who cheated and abused the love you had for them, you have been wary of dating. And it doesn’t help when your friend Kim Burgess won’t stop pestering you about some cute techie guy at the 21st District.

Warnings: talk of bad relationship (cheating, emotional abuse, PTSD from the relationship), descriptions of what might be an anxiety attack (I described feeling anxious but it ended up bordering on what could have almost been an attack.)

A/N: So I am working on a Kelly Severide Imagine, but I’m a but stuck on it so I came up with the idea that I take the last imagine I wrote, the other Mouse Imagine and make it into a little series of one shots, mainly cause I wanted to explore the relationship of Mouse and this librarian!reader. So this is a sort of prequel to the first Mouse imagine, how they first met which is talked about in the other imagine.

HERE is the first Librarian!Reader fic if you want to check it out!!

If you want to be added to my tags, just ASK!!

“Kim, I swear to god!”

You slammed your book shut with a snap and looked up at the Chicago police officer, aka Kim Burgess aka your best friend, in front of you. She looked almost as annoyed as you felt, rolling her eyes and sitting down on your couch across you in your reading chair. Kim had come over after her shift at the 21st District ended, and only after a couple of minutes of peace, Kim started up on her latest crusade; your love life.

“Y/N...”

“No! I get that you care, believe me, but I don’t need you trying to set me up with someone.” You said with a heavy sigh.

Kim scooted closer to you and leaned forward, trying to catch your eye which was avoiding hers, “Hey,” She paused and waited for you to look her in the eye, “I just want you to be happy. And I think this guy is a good match for you. Much better than -”

“Don’t say their name.”

“...Fine. But Mouse is so your type!”

You were about to start arguing again when her words actually registered into your head, “His name is Mouse? There is no way that this cop’s name is Mouse.”

“Okay one, he isn’t a cop. He is a tech expert that works with Intelligence, a civilian hired by the unit and the department. And two, Mouse is just what everyone calls him, its a nickname from when he was younger.” Kim explained.

“Tech guy?”

“Yeah, crazy smart when it comes to hacking and stuff like that. He got the job after hacking into Voight’s cell phone in like a couple of seconds. And he was in the Rangers with Jay, plus he is pretty funny and cute.”

You looked away from Kim as you thought it through. Clearly Kim was just looking out for you, but there was no way this guy, this super-smart-tech-genius-ex-ranger, could ever be interested in someone like you. You were just a simple librarian at Chicago Public Library, living alone aside from your cat companion, Geraldine. You hadn’t done anything extraordinary with your life, and as your thought process started to spiral in an anxious tizzy, you started to shake your head.

“No, no I can’t see this guy. He wouldn’t want to get stuck with some boring librarian.” You said, your body shrinking in on itself as your self confidence crumbled. All the comments your ex significant other made to you while you were still dating came popping up into your mind one after the other after the other. Comments on your weight, your looks, how you were boring and that was why they stepped out and cheated on you any chance they could. Tears were misting in your eyes and you tried blinking them away, not wanting to cry in front of Kim.

“Y/N-”

“I mean it Kim. Drop it.”

Kim looked you over and saw how you had retreated into yourself, clearly looking uncomfortable with the topic. That’s when she sighed and nodded, forcing a small smile on her face, “Okay.”

---

A week has passed since the confrontation with Kim about that techie guy, and you were slowly trying to purge the whole instance from your head and get back to your quiet life. Every once in a while, the conversation would slide to the forefront of your mind, along with your anxiety-fueled spiral about your ex, and you would try and shake away the ordeal. It had made you feel small and disgusting thinking about your ex and how your self worth was diminished because of them, and you never wanted to go back to that place again. Even if that meant never being in another relationship again.

On Friday, you had gotten a text from Kim around midday about having a girl’s night and heading out to have a drink at Molly’s, this pub which had become pretty popular with the cops of the Intelligence Unit. You had been once before, and one of the owners, Gabbie Dawson, was really nice to you when Kim introduced her. So you agreed, excited to go out and hang out with Kim.

Once you got out of work around 6, you got back to your small one bedroom apartment and fed Geraldine before retreating to your room to figure out what to wear. You settled on a pair of slender black pants and a long sleeved dark green blouse matched with a pair of green heels. Once you showered, dried and got your hair the exact way you like it, added a little makeup and got dressed, it was time to head out and meet Kim at Molly’s. You drove to the neighborhood where the pub was, some cars already lining the streets letting you know that Molly’s would probably be busy.

You parked, and hurried to get inside, pulling your winter coat around you a litter tighter as a gust of wind tried to chill you to the bone. The November night air was lung chilling and while you weren’t dressed like those young twenty-somethings with short dresses and no coats, you still did not want to waste another second with the wind chill. Once you got in, you saw that your assumption about the pub being busy was right, many people scattered around the bar, others in groups were seated or standing next to tables against the other wall. You looked around, trying to catch Kim’s face in the crowd but having trouble with how crowded. You pealed off your coat and made your way to the bar where you saw an older man behind the counter, cleaning off a glass.

“Excuse me?” You said, slipping into the space in front of the bar, and accidentally grazing your arm against the guy sitting down to your right, “Oh sorry.” You said quickly to the guy, not really looking in his direction so you didn’t notice when he started staring at you in awe.

“What can I get ya?” The older man said as he put the glass down and gave you his full attention.

“I know this is probably a long shot, but my friend comes to this bar a lot and I was just wondering if you’ve seen her tonight? Kim Burgess?”

“Ah! I know Burgess. From the 21st District?”

“Yeah! Yes, that’s her.”

The man smiled before turning around and grabbing something from behind the bar and then turned back to you, “I haven’t seen her, but she called about 5 minutes ago saying that her friend would be stopping by tonight. She also said to get her a vodka cranberry on her and to give her this.”

He handed you a napkin and then turned away, most likely to get your drink ready. You looked down at the napkin with a rough note written on it, reading out loud the note, “Hey, something came up super last minute, have a drink on me and enjoy the night. Sorry, --Kim.”

“Sorry about that, kid.” The man said as he returned with your drink, giving you a warm smile that also had a hint of pity in it.

“No problem. It’s not your fault.”

With one more smile he headed towards the other end of the bar, leaving you with your drink. You let out a sigh and brought the drink to your lips, trying to figure out what you were going to do next when a voice from next to you started speaking.

“You’re friends with Burgess?”

Looking over, it was the guy you had apologized to earlier. Now that you weren’t in a rush to find Kim, you got a good look at him. He had brown hair, you could almost consider it floppy-like if it didn’t also have a clean-cut feel to it. The man’s eyes were bright blue, and they looked at you with a mix of intrigue and surprise. He was wearing a blue button-up which matched his eyes, the first few buttons undone.

“Yeah, do you know her?” You asked. He nodded and looked down to his beer bottle, his fingers anxiously playing with the paper label.

“I-I work with her at the district.” He explained. “Are you one of her flight attendant friends?”

“No, god no. I’m a librarian at the Chicago Public Library.”

“Oh, that’s cool.”

“You don’t have to lie. I know it’s boring..”

“No! I genuinely think it’s cool. I-I mean I’m not a huge book guy myself but-but I did read a lot of Shakespeare in school and that was really cool, especially the-the one about the guy who dressed as a woman to hide from a mob or something and everyone thought he was a witch?” The guy rambled, his face flushing as he tried to save himself. You smirked at the clumsiness of his words and took a drink of your cocktail.

“The Merry Wives of Windsor?” You offered, and the guy snapped at the name.

“Yeah, yeah. The whole play now that I think about it went over my head at 16. But I was too interested in the Blackhawks and code. Like-Like the game that happened the other night, I was invested until that left winger from the Rangers totally checked Hartman and they put-”

“Hartman in the penalty box! Yes!! With only 3 minutes left on the clock and the take out the best right winger on the ice.” You jumped in, a smile growing on your face as the topic of hockey came up. “If he was still playing the Blackhawks would have got at least 2 more points and would have won instead of losing to the worst team in the league.”

The guy sputtered his drink and starts laughing, and immediately think its cause you had embarrassed yourself and he was laughing at you, not what you said. That was until he smiled at you and nodded his head.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

You felt a small fluttering in you chest when he smiled, something about him not making you nervous or anxious which was a change. With a smile on your own face, you put your hand out to him, “I’m Y/N by the way. Y/N L/N.”

“Greg Gerwitz.” Greg took your hand and shook it, lingering for a couple extra seconds before pulling away. “Or you can call me Mouse.”

You froze as he said that, your eyes widening in shock. He seemed to see your reaction and frowned, “Or not?”

“No, sorry.” You said quickly, trying to recover. “It-Its just that Burgess has been trying to set me up with you for the last few weeks.”

“Wait...oh! You’re that librarian! Burgess has been telling me about you too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, says how you are the best person ever and that I would like you the minute we met.” He chuckled. Greg smirked and turned more towards you, “And she wasn’t wrong.”

You flushed, feeling the heat of your blush against your cheeks as his smirk widened. It was quiet between the two of you as the pub continued with it’s noise like it wasn’t watching the start of something amazing. Greg then spoke up, getting your attention again, “Hey, I know this might seem fast but I really like talking to you.”

“I really like talking to you too.”

“Really?” He asked, his face getting red again as his smirk melted away into a nervous smile, “Well, what would you say about a date? Maybe the Blackhawks game tomorrow?”

It took quicker than you thought, but all your anxiety from the week before seemed like a long lost bad dream and you just wanted to spend some time with Greg Gerwitz.

“I would love to.”

ONE CHICAGO TAGS: @carnationworld

NORMAL TAGS: @l4life @ithoughtiwasflying

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misora-msby · 4 years ago

Text

my haikyuu crushes as things my previous crushes/exes have done

"summary": this is purely just for fun and half crack, but enjoy reading my experiences lol

characters: ushijima wakatoshi, miya atsumu, sugawara koushi, suna rintarou, hoshiumi kourai, semi eita

ushijima wakatoshi

giving his jacket when you're cold

so one day you show up to school

let's pretend today is an event so you've got a costume and your skirt is shorter than usual

no, japanese school skirts are not short as you think and i know from experience that they often go past your knees

UNFORTUNATELY it's also pretty cold :(

and he notices that you're shivering just a little because man ur thighs are kinda exposed ;-;

so wakatoshi walks over and gives his jacket

"here. you can use this."

you: "ah... i'm fine! i don't need it..."

wakatoshi: "i insist."

aww that's so sweet of him <3

miya atsumu

getting cockblocked together

OK THIS IS A REALLY FUNNY THING THAT HAPPENED TO ME AHAHA

i'll put it in a way that fits our dear tsumu-kun <3

ok imagine lining up for a one of those events where you have to be in your clubs

you, dear manager, and atsumu very clearly have a thing for each other

you know, giggling and grinning when you talk together

him choosing to sit next to you at lunch

texting often

suddenly i'm missing this crush but whatever

so yes you two are standing next to each other and he turns for a bit to talk to suna in front of him to talk about something...

when osamu behind you asks,

"hey. is it okay if i stand next to my bro?"

of course who are you to deny him? plus it's not like you're gonna actually SAY "i'd rather stand next to atsumu"

so you just "mm, sure. :)"

and when tsumu turns around

"???? bro wtf i wanted to-"

osamu: ._. ?

atsumu: "never mind."

sugawara koushi

being your best friend

sugawara just seems like the perfect guy for best friends to lovers

do u feel

the friend who'd listen to you cry at night and who you would comfort over texts

the guy who'd laugh at the stupid shit you find funny and would also send you really weird memes

you would fall for each other but at the wrong times

end up fighting about it and losing the friendship lol im not feeling extreme guilt rn i promise

but would probably still care about u a little even after not being friends anymore

aight i'm stopping here y'all get the idea

hoshiumi kourai

laughed at me for playing minecraft

self-explanatory bitchass

one of the reasons i stopped crushing on him smh

unfortunately i was a huge mcyt/smplive stan and oH IT'S FUNNY FOR A 17 Y/O TO LIKE MINECRAFT HUH

i can see hoshiumi "HUH! YOU PLAY MINECRAFT?? LOL OK"

shut up i bet hoshiumi would play minecraft nonstop if he didnt discover volleyball >:///

ok redemption for hoshiumi bc i do love him

staying up late on calls together

he’s surprisingly cute that way ♥︎

kourai’s always got a lot to talk about and will definitely listen to everything u wanna talk about!

sometimes you two fall asleep on call together uwu

unfortunately he wakes up earlier because of vb practice and you can hear his alarm clock through the phone.

“kourai... wake up, your alarm.”

“...”

“nnn... kourai... wake up your alarm is so loud...”

“zzz”

you hang up on him and he’s also late to practice

thank goodness for hirugami waking our boy up :,)

suna rintarou

ghosted and ‘cheated’ went on a late night walk with you

ignore the first thing i said :) that's fanon suna lol

GOING FOR SCHOOL OVERNIGHT FIELD TRIP!!

so y'all went to tokyo?? for the overnight trip

it's getting late and it's the last night so the teachers say "you all have free time tonight! just be back by 10pm okay?" wow they're trusting

so you and rintarou decide to spend the night together exploring the neighbourhood.

holding hands for some reason while you walk down the quiet streets talking about life.

then ending up at a little coffee shop where his friends were already eating together at and you shyly talking to them.

atsumu: "oi suna, who's this? ya don't really talk to many people."

suna: "i'm not a loner...? anyways, this is y/n. we were in the same group for most of the trip."

passing by your own friends who are Very Interested in whats going on between you two.

friend: "oo y/n, who's that?"

you: "uhm... a friend!"

and ending the night by just barely cuddling in the hotel's lounge area in your pyjamas

semi eita

said he was writing a song for you

musician semi musician semi

say it with me

WE LOVE MUSICIAN SEMI!

guys who play instruments are automatically 5x hotter. fr.

anyways

sometimes you two are sitting together just chilling

because dates with eita are sometimes just enjoying each other’s presence 🥺

he’s strumming at his guitar and occasionally scribbling down some notes while you’re probably playing on your phone or switch

he plays a new melody and you’re like

“oo thats a nice song. what’s the name?”

eita: “i haven’t really thought of a name... i just came up with it after all.”

“ohh...”

“maybe i should call it y/n?”

smooth bugger i’m gonna kiss u on the mouth so hard semi eita

#hqhangoutnet #atsumu x reader #ushijima x reader #semi x reader #hoshiumi x reader #suna x reader #sugawara x reader #miya atsumu #sugawara koushi #suna rintarou #ushijima wakatoshi #hoshiumi kourai #semi eita #eita x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #misoramsby

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eelistolvanen · 4 years ago

Text

Bruises that you left behind - Travis Konecny Finale

A/N: HERE IT IS!! Finally got around to finish off the last parts. This chapter is a bit longer but hopefully you like it. Thanks to everyone who read this series, I honestly never thought I would be able to publish a nearly 20k long fic. So thank you for reading, liking, reblogging or sommenting on it. <3

Words: 5k

Warnings: Angst, no proofread (as usual), don’t know what else

Links to the previous parts:

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

_____________________________________________________

“Have you looked at the teams that could draft you?” Your voice was quiet, soft. You weren’t entirely sure if this was crossing the line or not, since you knew that he didn’t want to think about the draft to much. But you couldn’t stop yourself.

“No, Y/N. It’s not in my hands anyway.“

“Well I did. And I think-“ “ Don’t Y/N. I could literally go to any team.”

“But some are more likely and some seem nicer than others…” You could hear him let out a deep sigh, letting you know that he gave in. “ Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean Ottawa would be perfect. You already play here and I’ve almost gotten used to this city. Calgary, Edmonton, Winnipeg are around there as well. There not as close as Ottawa but still Canada. Maybe there’s some other smaller cities…”

“Y/N, there are no real small cities. And you can barely tolerate Ottawa and it’s one of the smaller ones… Detroit’s close and-“

“But it’s so industrial and dark and… I don’t know, Travis. I just… What if it’s somewhere far away?”

“You’ll come with me… I’m not leaving you behind and I know you don’t like cities and would rather live here on the farm but I can’t change it.”

You let out a deep breath. “Travis, I just.. I want to come with you, I do. But I’m not made for a big city. I love my friends, my family, everything we’ve got here. And dragging me into some big city far away, feels a lot like locking me up in a cage. And you know how much I value freedom.”

“But you’ll make new friends, and you’ll warm up to living in a city, just like you did with Ottawa. WE can do this, we’re going to be just fine, okay?”

When you looked into his eyes you could see how sure he was of this, so you slowly exhaled.

“Okay. But promise me that you’re not gonna do this to me. If it’s someplace too big or to constricting for me, you won’t keep me locked in a cage. Promise me you won’t clip my wings.”

He gave you a soft smile and slowly caressed your face before his expression turned serious.

“I promise I won’t do this to you.”

You were struggling to breath, trying to gasp for air.

“No, no no no. This is not…” You didn’t really know where you were going with this. Your heart was aching more than it had in a while. The things was he was right. You could almost hear 17 year old Travis saying it. He had promised you. He had promised you to not constrict you, promised you to not take you into some big dark city. How you hated cities. Or at least used to hate them.

He meant to do the right thing, at the wrong time. And how wrong he had been…

“I didn’t want you to have this life, you deserved someone better. Someone who is there for you all the time. Someone who doesn’t spent most of his time on the road while you are left behind in some apartment, some city that you hate. Before I was drafted I promised you I would never do this to you. Lock you in a cage, clip your wings as you said. You hated the city, you hated the thought of being away from your family and friends. You loved being outside, being in nature. Port Stanley, the lake, the farm. This life here is everything you hate. And I would not put you through this, no matter how much I loved you.”

This felt like a dagger straight through your heart. You really couldn’t imagine yourself living that life back then.

“I moved here for you, Travis. Because I loved you. And…” He took the words straight out of your mouth.

“That’s what I mean, Y/N. I didn’t want you to give up your dream life just for me. Can’t you see that?

“Hah…” your laugh sounded bitter, almost cruel. “How couldn’t you see how happy I was? I wanted that life Travis! You didn’t do this to me. I choose to come to Philly Travis! I made the final decisions. Because I loved you. Because it was worth it to me. But do you know what you really did? You left me! On our wedding day. And I tried to come after you but you already left. And I waited and waited and waited in our house. The house we were supposed to grown old together. Spend our time in the off season. Raise our kids.”

You paused trying to get some air in, now you felt like you were being constricted. Travis’ hand moved towards you, he tried to reach out to you but you pulled back. Took a step back, trying to get some more space between the two of you. You took a deep breath.

“But then Nolan told me where you were and that you wouldn’t come back. You never came back! So when Nolan left I burned the letter and started packing everything up. By midnight of that day I was gone.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Don’t! Sorry just doesn’t cut it.”

There were many moments were you felt broken, shattered in the last few years. But were have you felt this low. And little. And humiliated. You felt like the invisible hand around your neck had tightened. You needed to get out of here.

“I.. can’t do this, Trav. I need… time.” You barely got those words over your lips. You could see that Travis wanted to say something, reach out to you in any way. But he didn’t. He knew better than that. So he watched you get in your car and drive off into the distance. Probably trying to put as much space as possible in between the two of you.

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

You threw yourself into work after that. Week after week. Occasionally meeting up with the girls or some of the guys on the team. You knew better this time than to push Nolan out of your life. You started to help Maddie with the wedding planning, even if you felt a little tug in your heart everytime you did. You felt like you were starting to get your life back a bit. Piece by piece.

It was a Sunday afternoon in late March when you felt a sudden urge to clean your apartment. You went through the kitchen, the living room and were just about starting in your room when your eyes fell onto a drawer in your room. And suddenly you felt like you knew exactly what you had to do. You felt pretty erratic and your mind was racing.

Within 20 minutes you were sitting your car in front of a building halfway through town. And for the next 10 minutes you contemplated whether this was actually the right thing to do. Was this really what you wanted? Should you really go through with it? But you were already here, so you exited the car.

Only when you walked through the lobby you realised that you weren’t sue how to get to his apartment. He wasn’t living in the same building anymore, then you used to live in. The receptionist probably wouldn’t just let you in and you didn’t really felt like explaining your situation to the receptionist.

So instead you exited the building and made your way back to the car. You needed to talk to him, now. Before you run again.

You didn’t have his number either so you texted Nolan to text Travis to come outside. You felt pretty weird, almost like some stalker waiting in front of a building until the person left the building or so. Thankfully, it didn’t take Nolan very long to respond and telling you that he texted Travis. He also mentioned that Travis hadn’t read the text yet.

You were still staring at you phone waiting for Nolan to update you when he exited the building and walked towards you. His steps were cautious and he seemed pretty tired. When he finally was a few steps away you felt your mind catch up.

��Uhh, I was just in the neighbourhood…” What a dumb thing to say, Y/N; you thought. He knew this was a lie. You were never in this area of town. But Travis seemed more confused than anything.

“Ah, yeah okay… What’s going on?” He seemed more nervous than usual. His confidence seemed non existent at this moment. He looked like a deer in the headlights. Well, you came to him so you might as well say what you came here for.

“I thought a lot about us after that conversation, Travis.” He looked guilty at the mention of your last conversation.

“You know, the reason why I burned that letter that day was because I thought that no matter what the reason was, it wouldn’t matter. Because in the end you left me. Yes, I wanted to know the reason why you did it. But it doesn’t change anything. No reason truly justifies what you did to me. Or makes up for all the pain. It just gives me clearance. You know even with that good intention, I just don’t understand why you didn’t ever talk to me about it. We were 17 when we made that promise and I don’t think we ever brought it up again.”

Travis was shaking his head desperately, you were pretty sure he knew where this was going.

“Please don’t, Y/N. Please…” But he knew he was losing this game.

“We’re not the Y/N and Travis that we once were. Not anymore. And we never will be, Travis. Believe me I want nothing more than to go back to that time. To that couple that we used to be. But this is never going to happen Travis and we both have to accept that.”

“You don’t know that, I mean you can’t just give up. I can’t do this without you.”

“You gave up on us a long time ago. And yes, you can. You’ve done it before. Just this time, I’m going to be the one who walks away.”

“Y/N…”

You stepped towards and took his hands in yours as you leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheeks. As you pulled away you placed something into his palms.

“Goodbye, Travis”

You stepped back towards your car as he looked down at his hands.

The little velvet box with your engagement ring.

And he knew that this was it.

Game over.

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

The rest of the school year passed quickly and soon summer came around. You had been so busy teaching and helping Maddie with the wedding, time had flown by quickly. You hadn’t seen Travis again and you felt yourself heal again. You knew that there would always be a piece of you that would never be over him. A little piece of your heart would belong to him. But slowly you came to terms with the fact the the rest of your heart wouldn’t.

It was mid July now and Maddie’s wedding was finally here. You had been busy all weekend and you finally felt yourself able to relax as you were sitting in a chair getting your make up done.

“He’s gonna be here. He’s invited.” Maddie glanced over her shoulder towards you as her hairstylist send her a glare for moving around.

“I know Maddie, I’ll be fine.” You weren’t sure if that was actually true but at least you could try to make yourself believe that. Maddie didn’t comment on that but you were sure that she wasn’t really believing you.

The ceremony was drawing closer as you helped with Maddie’s dress and later slipped into your dress as well.

Eventually there was a knock on the door from Kevin, who was picking you up to walk you downstairs to the ceremony. He offered to be your date. He was one of the only single guys that you knew and you were sure that I wouldn’t hurt to have him by your side.

“Ahh, of you’re you look absolutely beautiful.” He gave you a beaming smile as he escorted you to the down the stairs and outside.

“You look sharp too, Kev. A real suit guy.” You winked at him as his booming laugh shook his body.

“Okay, calm down with that roasting.” He wasn’t really serious though, he loved when you chirped him.

“When your big day coming anyway? Ever gonna settle down?” Your eyes glinted, you knew how much he wanted to get married and have kids.

He just scoffed before replying,

“Yeah, yeah. One day I will find the right girl, you just wait.”

You started to mix with other guest as more people were drawing in, since the ceremony was coming closer. You spoke to some of the guys, found Nolan and Kelsey before going of to the side the catch some air.

You overlooked the seats and the aisle leading towards a little podium and you felt that heartache again. You just couldn’t quiet shake that wedding sadness. You were lost in thought when you felt someone approaching.

You knew it was him behind you before you even turned around. The two of you had seemingly always had that. That special connection. That buzzing feeling you would get if he was close to you. The way you would always find each other in a crowded room. Like two magnets pulling towards each other.

And knowing that you would never get that with anyone else, ever, made your heart feel heavy. Travis had always been the one for you and no matter how hard you tried nobody could ever take his spot. You could love someone, yes. You could even see yourself spend your life with someone. But this person could never be him. They would never be able to make you feel what he did. You could never get that special connection, that buzzing feeling with anyone else, ever.

“I’m sure you’ve already been told but… You look stunning, Y/N!” He stepped beside you while you turned to face him. He was dressed in your favourite navy suit and a crisp white dress shirt. He wasn’t wearing a tie, the top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned instead. He gave you a shy smile. One that told you that he wasn’t entirely sure whether he just stepped over a line or not.

“Thank you. You don’t look to bad yourself, Travis.” An you meant it. He did look good. Better than he had in months. The bags under his eyes had disappeared, he looked younger now. More like his actual age. And there was a glint in his eyes. The sparkle that you used to love so much.

He stayed silent for a bit. You could see he was deep in thought, somewhere else even though physically he was beside you. Just when you got used to the silence between you two, he spoke up again.

“You were right. We’re not the same people we once were. And we never will be. We will never be the Y/N and Travis we once were. And we will never be the couple we were then. People change and people grow. You’re not the same person at 20 than you were at 17. And you’re not the same person now than what you were at 20. And I just know that the person that I am now loves you just as much as the person I was at 20. Or the boy I was at 17. And I know that I will still love you when I’m 40. Or 70. I will never stop loving you, Y/N.”

He took a deep breath, trying to sort the words that were swirling around in his head into a sentence. His little speech left you breathless. You were sure he had been thinking about this for weeks. And he was right, people do change and people grow. But that doesn’t always mean that people grow in the same direction.

“I’ve always wanted this, you know?” He was gesturing around him. “Since I met you I knew that you were the one for me. That you were the one I was going to marry one day. You were the person I wanted to have kids with. I wanted this life for us so bad, I lost sight of us. I lost myself and the person I used to be. And when I realised that I felt like I had already pushed you into it. So I did the only thing I knew. I ran.”

Your heart felt heavy and looking at him wasn’t helping. He wasn’t looking at you, his eyes were trained on the ground but you could see the glazing over his eyes. He was close to tears and this truly hit home to you.

He had told you so many times that he didn’t intent to hurt you but you never believed him, how could you? But now you understood that he truly thought it was the only way. That he had already pushed you too far into the cage to retrack what he had done. That the only way to keep you from losing your freedom was to let you go. To leave the cage open and walk away.

He got it all wrong though. Because you didn’t feel like he was putting you in a cage or clipping your wings.

“I wanted to marry you, Travis. You weren’t pressuring me into it.” He had to know that, the last thing you wanted was for him to carry that guilt around.

He finally turned his gaze towards you and looked you in the eyes. His lips were pressed into a pained line.

“I know. I know that now.” His eyes searched for yours before he slowly took a step towards you.

He brushed a hair out of your face before giving you a quick kiss on your forehead.

“Enjoy the wedding. I might see you later.”

The gesture was so sweet, so intimate. It felt so domestic, like something he would do everyday. A painful thought crossed your brain then. It felt so domestic because he used to do it everyday.

“You ruined weddings for me.” You didn’t mean to say those words out loud, you weren’t even consciously thinking them and to be honest you thought he was out of earshot already. But he stopped in his track and turned back to you. You didn’t dare to fully turn around, only just looking over your shoulder.

“I’ve ruined a lot of things for you, Y/N. I wish I could undo it.” And with that he vanished into the crowd.

You endured the ceremony. Well maybe that’s a bit harsh. You were happy for Maddie and Provy and the ceremony was incredibly beautiful. But you couldn’t help the bitter taste in your mouth. This should have been Travis and you, 3 years ago.

You let the wedding pass over you, you enjoyed hanging out with the team, catching up with the girls, you even let Kevin drag you to the dance floor.

You tiredly let yourself fall into a chair besides Kevin. You followed his gaze to another table. Travis was sitting there, seemingly without much company. You didn’t know whether he had a date or not but by the looks of it was he here by himself. Kevin must have noticed that you were looking at Travis.

“If you’re ever going to forgive him and give him another chance, might as well do it now. I know he will wait for you for as long as you want but… you never know how long someone is going to stay in your life. Take it from someone who had both parents go through cancer and nearly lost a leg, okay? Life won’t wait around for you. Don’t let it pass you by.”

With that he rose from his chair beside you. You wanted to make some funny remark about him being all poetic and shit but he had already made his way towards the bar. You followed his advice non the less and made your way towards Travis.

“This seat taken?” He nearly fell off his chair once he realised who asked the question.

“Of course! Uh, I mean, no it’s not taken.” You chuckled at him stumbling over those words. You sat down.

“You seem lonely, no date?” The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them. Was this to much? Did you step over a line? Travis seemed to relax himself and smiled.

“Ah haha, yeah no date. You came with Kevin?” It was nonchalant but you knew the deeper meaning behind his question.

“Yeah, always better to come with a friend than alone, you know.”

He nodded agreeingly before an uncomfortable silence fell between the two of you.

The songs were a slower than before which meant they weren’t as tiring as before. And before you could stop yourself your suggestion had already crossed your lips.

“Do you wanna dance?”

An immediate smile spread across Travis’ face. “Yeah, of course. I mean if that’s what you want.”

You laughed quietly and nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that. Just don’t step on my feet.”

“I try my best.”

For a bit the two of you swayed quietly to the music. It was already rather late so there weren’t to may people on the dance floor. The song changed and you let out a dry laugh as you realised what song had come on. Travis must have notice your reaction too.

“What?” He looked confused. “What’s funny.”

“Nothing, just the song.” He stilled and listened to the music. It was a Lewis Capaldi song. And it hit closer to home than you liked.

I've been holding on to hope That you'll come back when you can find some peace 'Cause every word that I've heard spoken Since you left feels like an hollow street

The song perfectly seemed to portray you and Travis. You felt your emotion dwelling up, as you heard the next verse.

I've been told, I've been told to get you off my mind But I hope I never lose the bruises that you left behind Oh my lord, oh my lord, I need you by my side

You let out a choked laugh. “I wish I could get you off my mind, but I can’t. Part of me will always be yours, Trav.” You gave him small smile before singing that verse again as it was repeated.

“I've been told, I've been told to get you off my mind, but I hope I never lose the bruises that you left behind. Oh my lord, oh my lord, I need you by my side.”

Travis seemed to understand your involvement with the lyrics as he gave you a sad smile.

“I was such a coward. I’m sorry Y/N.” He brushed a tear away that had started to roll down your cheek. “I should have fought for us, instead I gave up on us. I thought that the only way to give you the freedom I promised you, was to let go of you, to leave you. I was too much of a coward to let you fly free, because I thought you’d slip away and then I lost you anyway. I know you wanted to get married too but I should have never put that much pressure on it. I’m truly sorry.”

You leaned you forehead against his as you still slowly moved with the music. The song had changed now.

“I know Trav. I know. Do you think that one day we can be Y/N and Travis again? I mean not the same as we used to but a grown version. Do you think it could work again?”

You could hear Travis holding his breath as he patiently listened to you. His eyes were trained on yours, searching for meaning behind your words.

“Yeah, I think so. If you give me another chance I will prove it to you. Okay?”

You felt your heart speeding up at his words. Take a chance, you thought, before life passes you by. But instead of answering you leaned in and slowly connected your lips with his. The kiss was slow almost shy at first before Travis started to deepen it. Once you broke apart Travis slowly stroked your cheek before murmuring,

“You’re my always, you know that right?”

Epilogue:

The two of you took it slow afterwards. Both of you needed to get to know each other again, ease into each other again. But it felt right. Being with Travis had always felt right. Once your lease was up you move in with him and you were thankful that he wasn’t living in your old house anymore. As much as you loved your old place that you had together and all the memories that came with it, you needed something else. After all you weren’t the people that you used to be then. And that was a good thing.

He never asked you to marry him. One day a little box with an new engagement ring had just been placed onto your nightstand. Travis only comment to this was that he had already proposed to you and that this time you were calling the shots when you felt ready to marry him. And whenever you felt ready the ring would be there. He let the old engagement ring be made into a pendant since it was to meaningful to your relationship to give it away and to pretty to just let it sit in a box. And now you were wearing one around your finger and one around your neck, close to your heart as Travis liked to say.

And then the day was here. You knew you were ready but that didn’t mean that you weren’t feeling a tiny bit anxious about your wedding day.

Maddie looked over your shoulder and soothingly rubbed your back.

“You’re going to be the most beautiful bride.” She gave you one of her bright smiles.

You quietly laughed. “As if Maddie. You looked like some top model or something at your wedding. But I’ll gladly take second.”

Maddie erupted in laughter while you gave her a sly smile. Her expression turned serious again as she eyed the object in your hands.

“You’re gonna have to tell him eventually, Y/N.”

She was right, of course. And you knew you had to tell him sooner or later. You couldn’t keep it from him forever.

“I’ll go and get you something to drink, some water or something.” Maddie gave you a soft smile before making her way to the door. Just before she closed the door behind her you heard her say:

“What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here now…”

You felt like your heart stopped beating for a moment. An unwanted flashback crossed your brain.

The mental picture of Nolan making his way towards you with that cautious expression on his face.

“He’s not coming, Y/N.” Those words would probably haunt you forever.

Just as you felt yourself starting to panic Travis appeared in the doorway and quickly closed the door behind him.

“Travis?!” You probably looked like you just saw the lochness monster or something. What was he even doing here?

He approached you with a sly smile on his face.

“Hey, babe.” “You’re not supposed to see me before the ceremony..” Your words lacked any kind of force or enthusiasm. And before you knew your soon to be husband had engulfed you in a hug.

“What? Who said that?” His voice was light, almost joking.

“It brings bad luck or misfortune if the groom sees the bride before the ceremony.” Your explanation sounded lame and you were actually happy to see him even if your initial surprise might let him believe otherwise.

He chuckled before giving you a quick kiss on the lips. “Ahh, that sounds pretty stupid. And you can’t blame me for wanting to say good morning to my wife.”

His eyes searched for yours while he gave you his brightest smile. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his antics. Then you remembered the object you’d held in your hands just a few moments before and you got serious again. Now was as good of a moment than ever.

“There’s something I have to tell you.” You felt yourself grow nervous, you knew there was no reason for it but you couldn’t help it.

“Don’t tell me you want to run away this time.” He was joking, a smirk plastered all over his face.

“Travis I’m serious!” At that his smile dropped. Uncertainty crossed his features.

You grabbed the little square paper you had put down moments ago.

“I’m pregnant.” You breathed out while handing him the ultrasound. His eyes nearly popped out of his head while he stared at the picture.

“I.. I … You..” He seemed lost for words and you were almost starting to get worried when he lifted him head up and looked into your eyes. He seemed to explode with happiness.

“I’m going to be a dad? This is not a joke right? We’re having a baby?” You could just nod as he picked you up and spun you around.

“Oh my god, this is the best day of my life.” He nearly knocked his head with yours as he dove in to give you a deep kiss. Once you pulled apart and you found your breath you spoke up.

“Promise me something, Travis. Promise me you won’t run again. Promise me that you’ll fight for us no matter what we face. Don’t ever let me go again, Trav.”

“Never! I promise.”

~ the end ~

#travis konecny #travis konecny imagine #travis konecny x reader #travis konency fic #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #philadelphia flyers #My writing

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argumentl · 3 years ago

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The Freedom of Expression Ep 58 - [NSFW] The truth behind the DIR EN GERY misprint, and a mysterious voice...

K: Hi, this is Dir en grey's Kaoru, with this week's episode of the Freedom of Expression. Joe, Tasai, welcome...Um..

T: Ah!

J: What is it?

T: No way!

K: Its 'Young Jump'

J: Ah, Young Jump.

K: I think you already know about this, but we put an ad on it like this *shows back page*.

J: Oh, looks great!

T: Yeah, it does. Very impactful.

K: Its good, isn't it?

T: Yeah, great impact.

K: There's something a bit odd about it.

J: Haha

T: Huh? Where?

J: Eh? Something odd?

K: Yeah, its a bit strange. There's a bit of a mistake.

J: Is the kanji for Oboro correct?

K: Yeh, and this is right, about the release on the 28th of April.

J: And Wenesday is correct, right?

K: Yeah, and the explosion screening schedule is ok.

T: Yeah, it is.

K: The ticket price info is also all fine.

J: Yep.

K: After that there's only this bottom section.

J:Yeah.

T: DIR EN...

T, J: GERY, haha.

J: Has a new band formed?

K: We screwed up.

J, T: Hahaha

K: Its hard to believe, right?

J: Incredible. I did not expect this..Dir en gery.

T: I thought it was like a trick or something.

J: Oh, to make it go viral or..?

T: Yeah, going with Dir en gery.

J: Kaoru, what was it?

T: We'll find out about it here.

K: It was a total mistake.

J, T: Hahaha

J: Seriously? Eh? Really?

K: Yeah.

T: Does that mean it was done on a hurry, if its a seroius mistake?

K: Yeah, I guess so.

J: Well, Tasai, you work for a newspaper, and I also work for Rolling Stone, so we understand this, but our work is handed in for checking, you know, proof-reading. And they do spot mistakes, but honestly, I have never seen mistake of this size before.

T: Yeh. This is at the level of 'accident'. However, there is a case for saying that we cannot attack this. What I mean by that is that we too make mistakes.

J: Yes, thats true. There is that. Well, this goes for magazines etc too, but if you do proof-reading within the organization, for example, if the writer writes an article, the editor will proof-read it, and they may intend to, but if everyone is really busy with loads of other work, they will run out of time. Then they will get it checked by an external proof-reader. Even then there are sometimes still typos left over.

T: Yeah, there are.

J: There are, right? Human error happens.

T: Yeah, like if I misspell a name or something, I can correct it on the digital version, but on paper it appears on every copy out there.

J: Yeah..

K: But like this?!

J: Yeah, we say this, but we've never seen a typo this bad. Like, I've mistaken small details in names and stuff before.

K: Yeah, like Young Jump becoming Young JumP, right?

J, T: Yeh, haha.

K: Not like this! *points to 'GERY'*

J: Haha, this is...

*Sound of strange voice occurs in background - On screen text: 'What was that voice?! One more time.. (Clip of strange voice re-plays) No-one during the filming heard this. Its a mystery voice'*

J: Tell us what happened?

T: Yeah, lets ask.

K: Um, we had the design made, and the designer made the regular logo and put it down here in this fixed spot, so it looked as if the logo was done, even though there was a mistake in it. At the time, I wasn't looking at the band name, I was looking at the overall design, and ths impact it had. Like this image of Kyo from RokumaykanGIG. My eyes were drawn to the best parts of the design. It wasn't really designed to emphasize the band name. Its designed to showcase this top part, so I, like, didn't see it. Die didn't even see it, and he normally checks these really carefully. Even if we miss something, he normally spots it straight away.

J: Ah, even Die didn't notice it! ???*1

K: Yeah. We were too busy checking that there were no mistakes in the tour schedule.

J: Yeah.

K: But the information is all correct, so if its just the band name with a mistake, well, maybe its ok.

T: This could become a really rare item in time to come.

J: Yeah, cause there isn't gonna be a misspelling with Dir en grey again after this. That point will be strengthened.

K: Not for a while yeah. A long time ago, we had a single out called 'Filth', and there was a mistake in the title of the song on the cover jacket.

T: Eh? So this is the second time this has happened to you?

K: Well...yeh.

T: Hahaha

K: Well, we occasionally make small mistakes *2, but...

T: This is big.

J: Can I suggest something? Good things come in threes.

K: Ah, terrible.

J: So there will be a third time to come, imagine it, it could be both the title and the band name with a mistake.

T: Hahaha

K: Well, what can I do about it now? If you buy the single 'Filth' even now, its still like that. So filth is spelled f-i-l-h..huh? h-f...um, it's..

T: ..t-h

K: f-i-l-t-h, but the i became f, I mean h. So because there were two h's I realised the mistake. If there really is only one h, it could be that they just made the letters look in that style, but they look the same to me.

T: Ehh? I want to line Filth up next to this magazine.

J: Yeah

J, K: Hahaha

T: Don't you have it here? Filth?

K: We do.

T: Lets put them out together!

K: When I saw this (*Young Jump*) though, well, I thought it was quite rare*3, it could become a talking point. If you take a bad thing in a smooth way, someone will notice, so I thought we could just go with it.

J: Brilliant!

K: And then I posted on Twitter, like 'Ooops'. And that was a photo of the actual magazine, so it really was like 'ooops'.

T: As soon as I saw your Tweet, I was like 'Huh?!' and I went to the convenience store and bought it. haha

J: Well, in that sense it is a rare item

T: Can we decide on the correct reading for this? How would you say it?

K: Ge-ri?

J: Dir en gery (ge-ri).

K: jeri? geri?

J: geri? jeri?

T: gari?

J: Its geri, right? Well, jeri is like..

K: In the basic form its geri, right?

J: Yeah. jeri might have to be 'Gerry' with two r's. Which is best Dir en jeri or Dir en geri?

T: Should we decide? Even though it doesn't really matter.

J: Yeah

J: Dir en geri sounds like a struggling country rock artist or something, haha. Dir en jeri has jellyfish vibes.

T: The official name: Dir en Gery (jeri). haha.

J: I want you guys to do a joke live show as Dir en gery. You could switch parts, like Kaoru, you could be on drums.

K: Ah, but we did kinda do that once, we changed parts on stage. I just made a load of noise.

J: Ahh, so you could do that as Dir en gery somewhere officially and play one song.

T: Ahh, thats a good idea.

J: Do a cover or something.

T: You could do ???*4

K: Er, no. haha.

J: Haha, this will getting bigger and bigger.

T: But I heard recently at the MeguroRokumaykanGIG screening, Kyo said that Toshiya used to play guitar a long time ago.

K: He was playing guitar the first time we saw him playing in a band...well, I don't know if he was playing it, or just waving it around a lot.

T: Yeah, Kyo said the stage was going wild.

K: Yeah, he wasn't playing.

J: So, when you guys switched instruments on stage, what did you do Kaoru?

K: Drums.

J: Oh, drums?

K: Thats the one I wanna try out the most.

J: So if you guys played as Dir en gery, Kaoru, you would be..?

T: Drums?

K:...Nah....*imitates playing the castanets*

J: Tambourine? Oh, castanets? So, it doesn't necessarily have to be the same instruments you play at the moment?

K: Yeah. As long as we play as a proper band.

J: Yeah, so Kyo could play the recorder..

T: Someone could hit the ???*5

J: Yeah, yeah. Oh, that would be good.

*The single Filth gets passed over*

K: I'll just get it out.

*K shows cover jacket to J*

J: Oh, here, right?

K: Can you see, there are two h's.

J: Yes. I see.

*K shows it to T*

J: The first h is a typo?

K: Yeah.

T: Its a bit difficult to spot though.

K: We didn't even notice, we thought it was just the design.

J: Yeah. Put them together now.

*K puts magazine and CD together*

J, T: Hahaha

K: By the way, it was the same person who designed both of these.

J, T: Haha

K: When he saw it he was so pained.

T: Its ok, ???*6

J: Ahh, well, it can't be helped though.

*On screen note: Again? (weird voice appears)*

J: Even if there is a spelling mistake, its conveying the atmosphere that is the main thing.

K: Yeah, thats the emphasis.

J: But on the other hand, you could say that as soon as 'Dir' appears, people recognise it as Dir en grey, even with this kind of misspelling. The name is that well know.

T: Hmm, yeh

K: Hm, well, yeh, if you look at it up to here. But for us, its impossible.

J: Well, I guess yeah. It goes for Rolling Stones too. For example, if the last n in Rolling Stones became an m, you wouldn't immediately spot it. If it came up all of a sudden, you would just think 'Ah, the Stones'. It's that kind of name recognition. You could see it in that way. But I didn't know it was the same designer who did it both times.

K: Our boss was pretty mad about it.

J, T: Hahaha

J: Really? I see.

K: He couldn't believe it.

J: Well, yeah. Its also the most important part.

T: Well, yeah, and cause its already in circulation.

J: Yeah. Well, everyone can keep it as a treasure.

K: Where's Kami?

J: Yeah, isn't he here?

Kami: Oh, Im here, I was just listening the whole time. People make mistakes, right?

T: They do.

Kami: This is just a mistake. So its wrong to point blame.

T, J: Yes.

J: Kami, have you made a mistake recently or something?

Kami: Im always making mistakes, and always getting into trouble.

J, T: Haha

Kami: As soon as you've made a mistake, it hurts, right?

T: Yeah, I know that feeling.

Kami: Yeah.

J: Yeah, the person who made the mistake knows it, you don't have to tell them.

T: Yeah, that hurts the most.

Kami: I bet if you made a mistake like this though, you'd get into big trouble.

T, K: Haha

Kami: I think you really would.

T: Well, heh, yeah. But if even Die overlooked this..its like a demon interferred..

J: Yeah, unbelievable.

K: But, anyway, Im taking it in a good way. Well, I mean, it's not good to take just any old thing in a positive way, but....its a bit like those remarks by Mori that we discussed recently.

J: Oh yeah.

K: Like how to move on with it.

J: Yeah, we can learn from that.

K: Yeah.

*Sound cuts out. On screen note: Suddenly, we were unable to record to voices. Was it linked to that sound we heard earlier?*

K: Um, the sound..

J: It seems as if the sound went off.

T: I wonder whether its to do with what we just talked about?

K: What, like, 'Stop this conversation?'

J: Haha, like from ths designer's perspective...'Please stop it!'

T: Haha, yeah, 'Please!'

J: So, what about the Oboro single?

K: So, we're at the last stage, just the mastering, and a little more discussion, and we're about finished. And then the packaging. Well, there's just a little bit longer till the 28th, about another month.

J: Well, Im looking forward to it.

K: Ok, lets finish here for this week. Thank you.

*On screen note: The voice that no-one, including the staff, heard during recording was recorded into the mic data.*

*1,4,5,6 Couldn't catch

*2, 3 Not entirely sure

To top

#dir en grey #the freedom of expression #tfoe #kaoru #薫

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ultfreakme · 4 years ago

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I started watching Teen Wolf specifically for sterek, to write fics for the ship, read meta, just go ham on that side of the fandom for real, so yes, I came for the slash. Mostly because I wanted more of them in canon with more context and somehow found myself having more of them in fanfiction than in canon. Which left me confused on why Sterek is one of the biggest ships EVER.

Don’t get me wrong I love the ship, and Derek and Stiles do have a bond of some sorts but we get so little of it, but whatever we do has such high importance that I don’t understand why Stiles and Derek got those lines when in the context of the show it feels like they barely interact.

But I can’t even dismiss anything because the moments they do get are so surprisingly significant(you probably already know all that’s mentioned on the list if you’re a shipper so you can skip it tbh):

Peter’s speech about the power of human love and the camera directly going from Stiles to Derek

The ‘abomination’ thing- the camera lingered on Derek’s expression

The pool scene(ah yes, probably the point where we all converted)

Matt and the Kanima scene- “You two make a good pair”.

Boyd’s death- the comfort of human touch.

Stiles for some reason easily recognizing Derek on first meeting(he was the first to recognize young Derek too. Actually, he knows surprisingly lots about Derek).

Stiles is Derek’s anchor. I don’t know why, but the scene in “The Divine Move” can mean little else.

Derek is the king on Stiles’s board for some reason. He thought if Derek was out, the entire game was over. That’s a LOT of trust and responsibility on someone he barely interacted with(that we’ve seen anyways).

Stiles’s curiosity about Derek in general- this is probably because Sties is meant to be the ‘info dump’ guy but he actively seeks out info on him-the Paige incident.

On text, these events are way too significant. If you saw this written out in a novel format, it would look like Stiles and Derek had a very very significant relationship.

About Matt- I didn’t understand why he said they “make a great pair” because they honestly had not interacted enough to be viewed as one, and this is coming from me who was basically scavenging for scenes of them together.

Derek’s anchor thing- The part that struck me most was that this scene took place when no one trusted Stiles, not even himself, because the Nogitsune was using him. Even the Sheriff was being cautious. The entire arc was about trust and Stiles. But Derek chose STILES to confide in about all his worries to. He put all of it in Stiles? Why? It could’ve been for fanservice and to feed the starving sterek fans but the moment is too significant. This isn’t an illusion, this isn’t Derek being forced to pick- for once this is Derek willingly choosing to place his trust in someone(something that is nigh impossible to gain) in Stiles. If they wanted fanservice it could’ve been in a witty but overall pointless banter in some other scene, but this point is almost a turning point for Derek’s behaviour.

There has been long metas on all of the above and these scenes were intentional.

Which is when I realized that Stiles and Derek’s relationship is unlike every other relationship on the show. It happens in the background the most. This is probably the slowest of slow burn enemies-to-lovers relationship. Their relationship is implications, references, symbolic.

They weren’t meant to be romantic probably(Derek’s like, 24 or smthg and Stiles is 16-18, this show absolutely sucks at keeping a timeline). I think they were meant to just be, begrudging friends who often have same goals, an unlikely but effective team of sorts, united mostly because of Scott at first and then grow to become some sort of crime-solving, supernatural-butt-kicking duo. But it somehow got out of hand.

Stiles is one person that Derek gets almost nothing out of saving, has no obligation towards. His relationship with Scott started because he’s his beta. Chris and Derek have a relationship mostly built on guilt and somehow making it up to each other. Isaac, Boyd and Erica were also his betas he needed to take care of. Peter’s the only family he has left and also happens to be a well of information(sometimes). Breaden’s mission is to get him his money back.

But the one person who he gets nothing from, who he has no tie to, who he really doesn’t need to give a crap about but actually cares way too much for, enough to make them his anchor? Stiles. Whatever relationship he has with Stiles, he chose to have it.

Now Stiles- he’s more obvious about stuff especially in season 3. Taking down Derek means losing the game against the nogitsune. Losing Derek is unlike the other loses, he’s essentially put Derek’s survival through this game as equivalent to his own. The nogitsune(or Stiles somehow manipulating the nogistune) led the Sheriff, Chris, Allison, and Derek to Derek’s loft. Why there? What’s so significant to Stiles about this place. Go is about overtaking territory- the places the nogitsune had captured were the Sheriff’s station, the school, the hospital- and for some reason, the loft. Wouldn’t his home be better? Or somewhere else where he spends his time? It’s clear that Derek is important to Stiles(More symbolically, we get confirmation of sorts for Stiles being bi in Derek’s loft...hmmm......this is so sus).

Here’s the thing though; I doubt either of them are aware of how much they care about the other, Derek’s whole “I don’t deserve happiness” shtick+ trauma from how horrible all his other relationships went and Stiles’s possibly crippling PTS+ train-wreck of a relationship with Malia(the girl can barely empathize and she’s just adjusting to human society why the fuck are you putting something as huge as a committed HUMAN VERSION of romance on her??? Why is this relationship even a thing it has all the makings for a messy break-up).

They’d probably come to their realization years later, outside of the canon timeline and it’d probably be unlike any former relationship they’d have. Stiles has seen the worst of Derek(that’s the starting point of TW, Derek was a villain), and Derek probably knows a lot of Stiles’s flaws because he isn’t putting up a pretense.

The Teen Wolf canon feels more like building blocks and puzzle pieces for their relationship than the whole picture tbh, which is fun, because we get to envision whatever we want.

#tw #teen wolf #sterek #sterek meta #stiles and derek #tw meta #teen wolf meta #they handled malia's character so badly oh my god why is she taking her PSAT's when she was a coyote for six years???#why is malia made to 'fit in' with little to no help and downtime???#malia tate deserves better #like a kitsune girlfriend who's v.nicye and sensitive #fucking hell idc about exams and homework and i've lived in human society all my life why would the girl who lived without any of these #things give a shit about whatever human society deems important?

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becomewings · 4 years ago

Photo

The Most Beautiful Moment in Life <I’M FINE>

BTS Universe Story Highlights, pt. 3 / 4

« pt. 2 | » pt. 4

Introduction

The following sections for JiMin’s and HoSeok’s arcs are 4.5k and 4k, respectively. As with pt.2 of the series, I have included “tl;dr commentary” at the bottom of the post after a section of additional thoughts. This commentary summarizes the parenthetical asides I made throughout the summaries and may be of interest as standalone reading to those who have already played the game yet would like to review its connections to the BU texts and MVs.

Content warning: contains references to death, suicide, suicidal ideation, child abuse, domestic violence, blood, homicide, depression, trauma, PTSD

This guide contains major spoilers and includes references to other BU media

Do not repost, copy, or quote without permission

Stopped Time

SeokJin’s primary goal in JiMin’s story is to free him from the hospital psychiatric ward to which his parents have him committed before he gives up on life. Much like his sudden, unexplained absence in The Notes 1, JiMin is not even present in the first two episodes except for an introductory cutscene. In a hospital hallway on an unspecified date, he plays on the colored tiles and stops when he reaches “the line” by the exit door. (This line marks the end of the psychiatric ward and is first described in his 11 May Year 22 entry in The Notes 1.) Everything goes black except for JiMin and the door. A nurse taps him on the shoulder, bringing him back to reality, and hands him pills.

The playable story begins on 22 April Year 22 with SeokJin attending a meeting organized by the patrons of the Songho Foundation. Seo HyunJung, the city’s Deputy Mayor, suggested it to SeokJin’s father, Kim ChangJun, at the inauguration ceremony. (SeokJin attends the inauguration ceremony on 11 April in many loops; it plays out in episode 2 of JungKook’s arc.) SeokJin scans over the crowd, reflecting that while the pretext of the meeting is to discuss community development, in reality it is a social gathering to advance individual careers. These sessions make him uncomfortable, but this time he is attending of his own accord with the intention of meeting someone.

This someone is a woman who actually approaches him first, introducing herself as Sim SeonMi. SeokJin knows that she is JiMin’s mother. He has met her in previous loops but needs to pretend that this is their first time meeting. His goal is to bring up JiMin naturally and persuade her to discharge him from the hospital. Before he can broach the subject, the high school principal, Jo JinMyung, joins them. SeokJin uses his arrival as an opportunity to bring up school and guide the conversation toward JiMin by first asking if they know each other. “We’ve met a few times at gatherings. I was told her child used to be a student at our school,” answers Jo JinMyung. “Ah, really? I attended Jeil High too,” says SeokJin. Sim SeonMi looks taken aback, and he asks for her child’s name. She tries to avoid the question by saying that they probably won’t know each other due to their age gap, but when pressed again she relents. “His name is Park JiMin.” “I know JiMin! We were close. Is JiMin doing okay?” SeokJin responds brightly, wondering if she will provide an empty lie. Instead, she excuses herself with the claim that she needs to greet someone else.

SeokJin quickly wraps up with the principal and begins to casually approach her again. He stops when he overhears two women mention her name. “There’s no gathering she doesn’t attend these days. Looks like her husband’s star is on the rise, thanks to her efforts…” The player has the choice to listen quietly or butt in. If SeokJin stands by, they speculate that she was invited because her husband’s company is one of the patrons. If he interrupts, they caution him to stay away from her. In both routes, SeokJin learns that Sim SeonMi doesn’t have the best reputation and that rumors of her hospitalized son are spreading. Their blame on her helps explain what underlay her hysteric responses in previous loops.

Though it’s uncomfortable, SeokJin reapproaches her when she is alone. She greets him a little coldly. “You don’t have to be so formal to me. I’m JiMin’s friend,” he assures. “Is that so? How friendly you are.” Sim SeonMi smiles awkwardly and keeps looking elsewhere as though for an escape. “It would’ve been nice if JiMin’s father was here… He’ll join me another time, so you can say hello to him then.” “Yes. I’ll make sure to bring my father along then,” SeokJin replies, hoping to snag her attention. Her eyes change at the mention of his father. “Shall we do that, then? It’ll be even better with the Assemblyman.” SeokJin brings up JiMin again by either asking if he still attends Jeil High or how he’s doing. Her uneasy answers are “These days? Yes… Of course” or “...He’s fine,” respectively. SeokJin requests JiMin’s phone number, rendering her silent for a long moment. “That’s a bit difficult. I’m not sure I can give out JiMin’s contact information without his approval.” SeokJin attempts to convince her by stating that they were close friends in school yet lost contact when he studied abroad. But all he gets from her is, “Then I’ll ask JiMin, and make sure to contact you if he says it’s okay.” Sim SeonMi taps him on the shoulder and quickly walks away.

By 25 April, SeokJin still hasn’t heard from JiMin’s mother, so he decides to visit her and reveal that he knows JiMin was admitted to an inpatient psychiatric ward. Uncle JunHo, his father’s secretary, intercepts him before he leaves the house and asks where he’s going. SeokJin either answers that he is heading to school or meeting a friend to work on assignments. He declines a ride from JunHo in the first path but can’t conjure an excuse to not accept in the second. In both, JunHo comments that it’s not easy being the family of a public official and that he noticed SeokJin engaged in a long conversation with Sim SeonMi at the meeting. SeokJin explains that she is his friend’s mother, and JunHo advises him not to get too friendly with her because she doesn’t have a great reputation. In the second path, he also adds information about JiMin’s father that catches SeokJin’s attention because he has not heard anything about the man. Apparently Park JinWook is one of the foundation’s board members. ‘He’s pretty remarkable. He entered as a researcher and became a board member… The one thing that people like him want most is connections,” JunHo muses. He cautions SeokJin to “be wary of any advances [he] can see the intent of.”

The scene cuts to the exterior of an apartment building after SeokJin has either driven himself or been dropped off nearby by JunHo. He considers the public assessment of JiMin’s mother: she works hard to elevate her husband’s status but ignores her own son in favor of the family’s reputation. Sim SeonMi happens to step outside before SeokJin enters the building. She looks wary when he says, “I haven’t heard from you, so I decided to come see you myself.” In an effort to persuade her, SeokJin begins with either “I want to see JiMin” or “I came to see you because I know everything.” In the first path, she lies about not getting in touch with JiMin yet because he is studying abroad in the U.S. SeokJin is stunned by this egregious falsehood. “From what I’ve heard… JiMin’s locked up in a hospital. He’s at the Gyeong Il Hospital, isn’t he?” A similar reaction occurs in the second path from the point of SeokJin mentioning the hospital. Sim SeonMi hardens and objects to the phrase “locked up,” stating that JiMin is an inpatient because he is sick. “SeokJin, I appreciate that you’re worried about JiMin… But I’m his mother, and that means I know what’s best for him.” The paths converge as she tries to leave, claiming they have nothing left to discuss. Persuading her to release JiMin from the hospital seems impossible. “I’ll look into it on my own. I’m going to see JiMin, no matter how hard you try to stop me,” SeokJin warns. Sim SeonMi glares at him, voice low and cold. “‘SeokJin. If I can give you a word of advice… Adults have reasons for everything they do. You should forget about this.”

The beginning of episode 3 visits JiMin’s perspective on 27 April. He has relocated temporarily to the surgical ward due to an injured wrist. After treatment, he returns to his hospital room to find his mother arranging some items she brought. JiMin approaches nervously, wondering if she thinks he has caused a problem again. “It doesn’t look too bad, thankfully,” she remarks, glancing at his wrist. Her concern is unfamiliar yet welcome. “Do you know a Kim SeokJin? He said he attended Jeil High.” The mention of SeokJin surprises JiMin, but he tries to answer passively because of her angry tone. “Yes, but why are you suddenly ask—” “Did you contact him?” Sim SeonMi interrupts, halting her organizing to stare at him. “Why are you so immature? Do you ever think of anyone outside of here?” Injury throbbing, JiMin doesn’t know how to respond. “If you want to leave, tell me why you’re doing this. Tell me instead of embarrassing me by contacting some random person! Is that why you hurt your wrist? To rebel?” she demands. JiMin tries to explain this isn’t true, but she doesn’t listen. “I’m really tired, too. How many years has it been? How long do I have to suffer because of you?” Sim SeonMi leaves, the rant having done little to expend her anger. JiMin knows that her worries are pointed at herself, not at him; he is someone who makes life harder for her. He decides not to talk about anything else because he doesn’t want to make things even more difficult for her.

The story cuts to SeokJin loitering outside Gyeong Il Hospital, mulling over what action to take since JiMin is moving out of the surgical ward that day. (The date is unspecified in the game, but in The Notes 1, he is scheduled to return to the psychiatric ward on 16 May.) SeokJin knows that he will be the first suspect if JiMin disappears now and that he must act carefully since he was unable to persuade JiMin’s mother. As the day grows dark, he spots Sim SeonMi rushing into the hospital on her second visit. SeokJin hurries after her, worried that something happened to JiMin. The panicked voices of a medical team emerge from JiMin’s room. Doctors crowd around someone laying on the bed. “No, JiMin!” SeokJin hears Sim SeonMi scream followed by the sound of shattering glass.

The loop resets, and the game rejoins SeokJin on 10 May standing at a road and reflecting on the last failure. “If JiMin isn’t saved while he’s in the surgical ward, he makes his choice days after he returns to the closed ward. But it happened too quickly this time. What pushed him?” he wonders. He recalls Sim SeonMi’s final words before the loop ended. “No, JiMin! I’m sorry. I was wrong! You can see your friends; you can do anything you want… So please, open your eyes!” SeokJin realizes that he may have caused Sim SeonMi to act out of the ordinary, which in turn affected JiMin’s choice. It’s his fault, and he made JiMin suffer more. He thinks, “Even though I’ve experienced losing my friends before… No matter how many times it repeats… It never gets any easier.” SeokJin decides to abandon persuading JiMin’s mother to avoid provoking her and reverts his plan to sneaking JiMin out like in earlier loops. But first, he must focus on a more pressing issue—rescuing HoSeok after he collapses on the bridge that day.

After a cut, HoSeok awakens in SeokJin’s car and is shocked to see him. “Wow, is it really you? How long has it been?” “Lean on me for a bit longer. You didn’t hurt yourself when you fell?” SeokJin checks. HoSeok assures him that he’s all right and asks how SeokJin saw him. When SeokJin says he was just passing by, HoSeok remarks, “Wow! That’s so weird. Thanks for saving me.” It’s the first time SeokJin has heard something like this. He remembers JiMin in a previous loop telling him, “This is where I should be.” Does JiMin really want to leave the hospital? SeokJin believed that he did, but now he’s less confident. “HoSeok. If you had someone in front of you who wanted to die because living was too difficult… What would you do?” he asks. HoSeok answers without hesitation, “Well, I would help them.” “Even if that person doesn’t want my help?” says SeokJin. “ Isn’t helping them the right thing to do? Even if you don’t know why they want to die… They need to keep living for something to change,” HoSeok muses.

SeokJin drops HoSeok off at Two Star Burger before returning to the hospital alone, his friend’s words sticking with him. Even though JiMin isn’t guaranteed to be happy when he leaves the hospital, he needs to stay alive to have even the opportunity for happiness. Still uncertain how to proceed, SeokJin heads to the hospital lounge to organize his thoughts before visiting JiMin. Through an open door, he spots JiMin trudging down a hallway. SeokJin either calls out to him or watches him, but the latter is the result regardless because JiMin doesn’t hear him in the first path. JiMin stares at the door as people come and go and eventually returns to his room.

On 7 May, JiMin roams the hallways of the 5th floor surgical ward. He was moved there about ten days earlier after he ran into someone and fell. The surgical ward is not too different from the psychiatric one: the hallway is a little longer, and it has a lounge in the middle. But the freedom to move around in this space brings him joy that he doesn’t have in the psychiatric ward. He even wanders around at night when no one is around and dances in the lounge. Despite this newfound freedom, his body stops at the same point in the hallway—where the psychiatric ward ends four floors above him. After reaching his line again, JiMin returns to his room. He assumes a student occupied the bed before him because he finds a forgotten workbook in the nearby drawers. Remembering that he used this workbook in school, he flips through and reads the notes scribbled in the margins. “I want to go to a PC cafe, too…” he murmurs, spotting the note “wanna go to the PC cafe later?” JiMin finds a haphazardly folded paper tucked into the pages and unfolds it curiously. “Career… plan?”

The story cuts to 10 May with SeokJin, from a hidden vantage point, watching JiMin sit in the hospital lounge and read a book. It reminds him of their days in the classroom hideout. “He seems okay right now.” SeokJin receives a call from Uncle JunHo about the scheduling of a Songho Foundation seminar. During their conversation, a loudspeaker announcement summons JiMin to the 2nd floor physical therapy room. He drops the book and runs out of the lounge. Once finished with the call, SeokJin tries to find the book JiMin was reading. He doesn’t see it among those scattered around the lounge and thinks that JiMin must’ve had a reason to hide it. Hoping it will provide him a clue to understanding his friend, SeokJin hunts around either the window or trash can with no luck before turning to the vending machine. After scooting a bookcase out of the way, he is finally able to rescue the item. SeokJin deduces that the workbook doesn’t belong to JiMin because it’s Year 2 material and JiMin was admitted to the hospital in his first year. He finds the detached sheet with two different types of handwriting and determines which belongs to JiMin. The game provides a quick flashback shot of JiMin filling out the paper. “Aspiring Career Path: Will I be able to go to university too? Scholastic Activities: What should I learn in Year 2… Extracurricular Activities: Join the dance club HoSeok started.” SeokJin wonders what JiMin felt as he wrote in the answers. He considers how JiMin people-watched from the hallway and looked happy reading the workbook. “You want to leave, don’t you?” SeokJin thinks. “Let’s get out of here. So you can be the one to decide what kind of life you want to live.” He resolves to break JiMin free.

On 11 May, JiMin stops at the invisible line in the hallway again. He stares at the door before turning around and bumping into someone. He is shocked speechless when he realizes that it’s SeokJin. The next episode continues from this moment but switches to SeokJin’s perspective. He calms JiMin down before bringing him to the lounge, giving the excuse that he was in the hospital to visit someone else. JiMin’s cheeks are hollowed, his hands skinnier than normal. SeokJin wonders if he can inspire JiMin to act if he tells him that he’ll be able to do all of the things he wrote on the career plan once he leaves the hospital. He either asks, “JiMin, are you injured?” or “How long have you been in the hospital?” In both paths, JiMin refers to his wrist injury and the time he’s been in the surgical ward rather than the psychiatric one. He looks grim when he can’t give a proper answer to either “When do you get discharged?” or “Are you sick?” “I think I have to go now. It’s almost time for treatment, too…” JiMin stands to leave, avoiding his gaze. SeokJin rushes after him and blocks his path, knowing this might be their last chance to speak if they say goodbye already. “JiMin, I’m here because I know everything. You want to leave this place, don’t you? You’ve been here for two years.” JiMin steps back but doesn’t run away. “I just happened to hear… how your mother locked you in the psychiatric ward,” SeokJin explains. JiMin shakes his head with a frightened expression. “No. I’m here because I’m sick.” His eyes falter when SeokJin presses, “JiMin, I can help you. Let’s get out of here together.”

Short flashbacks play from JiMin’s perspective alongside his thoughts: “At first, I wanted to leave. I called my mom and cried until my voice went hoarse, asking her to take me home. That I didn’t want to stay here. But she didn’t listen. Because this is where I should be…” Aloud, JiMin speaks in a voice that sounds like he has given up on everything. “Even if I leave, I’ll eventually come back.” SeokJin shakes his head. “What’s important is how you feel. JiMin, you really want to stay here? That’s okay with you?” Depending on the players’ choice, he either continues, “Do you really not have anything you want to do?” or “‘You really want to stay here in the hospital?” In the first path, SeokJin tries to remind him of something he must want to do like studying or dancing. “I don’t… have anything like that,” JiMin lies. In the second path, JiMin says it’s better for him in the hospital because outside people treat him like a freak. SeokJin remembers the women whispering about Sim SeonMi and her hospitalized son at the Songho Foundation meeting. In both paths, JiMin is pale and shaky. SeokJin decides to ask one more time. “You don’t want to go outside and see your friends?” JiMin seems to perk up at the mention of “friends,” but he does not respond or lift his gaze. SeokJin’s parting words are, “Think about it, JiMin… I’ll come back to visit again.”

The next day (12 May), SeokJin reflects on his failure to persuade both JiMin and his mother. “What can I do to help JiMin get over his fear and gain courage?” he wonders. The career plan comes to mind again with JiMin’s notes of college, studying, and dancing—the things he wants to do outside of the hospital. This prompts SeokJin to remember a day in the classroom hideout when he filmed HoSeok dancing. On the sidelines, TaeHyung complimented HoSeok’s moves and asked if JiMin could dance like that. Gaze full of envy and longing, JiMin answered, “No. How could I do that?” “HoSeok! JiMin says he wants to try!” TaeHyung called. Flustered, JiMin tried to stop him, but HoSeok looked over. “Do you want to try?” JiMin insisted that he couldn’t, but TaeHyung pushed him forward and HoSeok gladly demonstrated the routine. JiMin hesitated at first to attempt it alone but began to move at their encouragement. In the present, SeokJin believes that he has found an answer in this memory. “TaeHyung, who pushed him forward… and HoSeok, who believed that he could do it. Maybe one of those two will help JiMin muster up the courage.”

SeokJin picks TaeHyung to help him persuade JiMin, considering that he was the first person to notice how JiMin was feeling when they watched HoSeok dance and helped JiMin take action when he hesitated. (We know from The Notes 1 that SeokJin’s later, successful choice ends up being HoSeok instead.) On 13 May, SeokJin visits TaeHyung’s convenience store to explain JiMin’s situation, and TaeHyung immediately agrees to help. Late that night and with little planned, they sneak into JiMin’s hospital room. Sensing their presence, JiMin turns on the light and is especially surprised to see TaeHyung. “We’re here to get you out of here, JiMin,” he says. “Did you think about it?” SeokJin asks. When JiMin hesitates, TaeHyung presses him to answer honestly. “Park JiMin, do you like being here? Staying here is awful! Let’s leave. You can think when we’re outside.” TaeHyung forces JiMin to his feet even as he hesitates and protests about the impending night rounds, although he does not push TaeHyung’s hand away. SeokJin knows this is hasty but decides to trust TaeHyung. Out in the hallway, he reflects that if even he spoke the same words, JiMin would not agree. SeokJin has encountered moments like this before where his friends solve problems that he cannot fix alone. “TaeHyung seems to be JiMin’s answer, just like YoonGi needed JungKook,” SeokJin thinks. (JungKook saving YoonGi is not a solution that played out in YoonGi’s story, but this is a familiar theme from Notes 1 and forward.)

The elevator arrives as they turn the corner, its doors opening to reveal Sim SeonMi. SeokJin warns, “Hide. It’s JiMin’s mom.” She walks past without noticing them. SeokJin quickly presses the elevator button, but it has already left. “JiMin, quick!” TaeHyung calls. “TaeHyung, I just…” “You can’t look back,” TaeHyung says firmly. He and SeokJin pull JiMin towards the stairwell, but JiMin stops walking. “What’s wrong?” asks TaeHyung. JiMin’s expression is on the verge of crying yet also angry. “I can’t,” he whispers. “Park JiMin, we don’t have time for this—” TaeHyung is interrupted by Sim SeonMi’s distant voice. “Where’d he go? The bathroom?” SeokJin tugs JiMin’s arm, but he looks afraid again. “SeokJin, I… I can’t do this. I don’t think I can.” SeokJin either soothes JiMin himself or has TaeHyung talk to him. In the first path, he takes JiMin’s trembling hand. “It’s safe for me here.” JiMin shakes his head. “No, JiMin. Something bad will happen if you stay here,” SeokJin cautions. “No, I have to stay here. That’s what’s right. I want to stay here,” JiMin insists. In the second path, SeokJin shoots TaeHyung a look, and TaeHyung in turn scans over JiMin. The tapping sound of shoes rings through the silent hallway. TaeHyung begins, “JiMin, if you stop here…” The paths rejoin when Sim SeonMi spots them and calls to JiMin, face livid as she approaches. “Oh… Mom.” The color drains from JiMin’s face. “Please… Please! Can’t you just stay put?” she demands sharply.

TaeHyung attempts to intervene, introducing himself as JiMin’s friend. Sim SeonMi does not look at him even when he explains that JiMin didn’t expect their visit and they were just taking him outside so as not to disturb the sleeping patients. SeokJin chimes in too, hoping their flimsy excuse will work, but Sim SeonMi orders JiMin back to his room. Looking defeated, JiMin trudges out of sight. Sim SeonMi finally turns her gaze on SeokJin, regarding him with the same expression as she utters the same words from the last loop. “I didn't know you were JiMin’s friend.” She warns them not to visit him again like this because he is very sick and it will interfere with his treatment. Before coldly turning to leave, she touches TaeHyung’s shoulder for a moment. (This same gesture was given to HoSeok in the hospital after JiMin’s seizure at the bus stop on 15 September Year 20 in Notes 1.) Her presence is like a wall separating them from JiMin. (SeokJin’s observation echoes HoSeok’s feeling that she was drawing an uncrossable line between them that September.) TaeHyung yells after her, “What’s wrong with him?! You can’t even spare the time to talk to us?!” SeokJin cautions him to stop. “Let me go! JiMin! Park JiMin!” TaeHyung’s voice rings loudly in the hallway, but no one answers. As they leave the hospital, he asks, “Do you think JiMin will be okay?” SeokJin cannot respond because he knows the truth: when JiMin returns to the psychiatric ward, he always makes the same awful choice.

The story cuts to JiMin sitting on his hospital bed and staring at his feet, unable to face his mother. He regrets following SeokJin and TaeHyung. “It was a lie, wasn’t it?” Sim SeonMi asks. “What those kids said earlier. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” JiMin apologizes, throat catching. “What were you going to do? What could you possibly do outside of this place?” she demands. JiMin remembers all the things he thought about alone in the lounge: going to school, making friends, and learning dance from HoSeok again. “I want to live a regular life. It’s nothing that special. Why is it that I’m not allowed to dream?” he thinks. “JiMin, let’s focus on getting better first. When you’re all better… I’ll let you do whatever you want once you’re discharged. But you know that now isn’t the time. Let’s do it when you’re back to normal,” Sim SeonMi advises with a power in her voice that he can’t fight. Questions pile up in his head: what is getting better, and what is normal? But he holds it in and nods, not wanting to make things any more difficult for her. “Okay, Mom. I will…” As he speaks, it dawns on him that he’ll never get to leave the hospital.

JiMin moves back to the psychiatric ward after SeokJin and TaeHyung’s visit. The place is still the same: a man mutters that he’s not crazy; a child stays glued to the window, waiting for their mom. “And then there’s me, unable to progress because I’m locked in the past. If nothing changes even as time flows, how is it any different than time standing still?” On 19 May, JiMin stands in the bathroom with the water running. He sees and hears the falling drops as rain and smells a sharp stickiness. Reflected in the water in the sink, he sees a vision of himself on “that day.” (This is referring to 6 April Year 11 and the events of the arboretum, first introduced in that dated entry in The Notes 1 and revealed in full on 12 August Year 22 of The Notes 2.) “...I hate it.” JiMin covers his eyes. “I want to forget everything. I want to rest.” The glass shatters, concluding his arc.

Someone Left Behind

HoSeok’s story opens on 11 May Year 22 with SeokJin providing some chronological context. So far, he has not made it to June once in the loops because HoSeok collapses from his narcolepsy and JiMin is still trapped in the hospital. SeokJin can encounter JiMin naturally if he admits HoSeok to the hospital after his collapse on 10 May, but HoSeok has an accident in the hospital stairwell and falls into despair over his leg injury. (10 May is the date HoSeok collapses and wakes up in the hospital in The Notes 1, and this is likely the moment referenced by his bridge scene in the I Need U MV.) Even if SeokJin prevents that accident or helps HoSeok avoid admittance to the hospital entirely, his narcolepsy grows worse over time after 10 May. SeokJin determines that he needs to control HoSeok’s narcolepsy in order to save him, and he heads to Two Star Burger where HoSeok works to begin earnestly investigating.

A cutscene plays out at the restaurant: HoSeok, wearing a manager’s tag, watches two friends eating at a table while someone places their order with him. His expression is distant and briefly sad until he catches himself and smiles brightly at the customer. When the door chimes, he greets the new visitor and realizes it’s SeokJin. This is apparently their first time meeting in this loop because HoSeok heard from the other guys that Seokjin returned. SeokJin asks how he’s doing, and HoSeok replies, “Me? Same as usual.” SeokJin knows that “same as usual” means HoSeok’s life has a set, monotonous routine: working his part-time job, going to dance practice, and occasionally visiting the children’s home. Sometimes, he also comes to the bridge over the river and watches the scenery. The scene transitions to this location later at night as SeokJin narrates this. He stands at a distance so HoSeok doesn’t see him. HoSeok’s out-of-character, melancholy expression worries SeokJin. He hasn’t observed any changes to his friend’s daily routine, and HoSeok hasn’t collapsed recently—so why does he keep collapsing on 10 May?

The narrative cuts to 3 May. (I double-checked the dates and can only assume that this is a new loop, although a reset is not specifically mentioned—or else the opening date was a typo.) SeokJin mulls the situation over alone for a while but ends up going to NamJoon out of frustration. NamJoon and HoSeok share similarities, and they’re both responsible for other people. Believing that NamJoon knows HoSeok best, SeokJin visits his container. NamJoon greets him warmly. JungKook is already there, killing time after school. SeokJin mentions that he saw HoSeok a few days earlier at Two Star Burger but couldn’t really talk to him because he was busy. NamJoon suggests inviting him to join them after work and bring some hamburgers too since JungKook is hungry. SeokJin either calls HoSeok himself or lets JungKook call. In the first path, HoSeok says he’ll come as soon as SeokJin mentions that a few of them are together. In the second path, while JungKook is on the phone, SeokJin asks NamJoon how HoSeok is and learns that he practices dance at the cultural center every day. SeokJin wonders if HoSeok is pushing himself too hard. The paths rejoin: before HoSeok arrives, SeokJin inquires about his narcolepsy too. NamJoon doesn’t know much except that he’s still taking medication for it and seems to be doing okay. It seems that no one dares to bring it up since HoSeok doesn’t speak about it openly. The conversation trails off while they wait, although it’s not awkward—it reminds SeokJin of old times together.

HoSeok arrives with a cheerful greeting, wafting in the smell of fresh hamburgers. “These hamburgers were hand-made by the employee of the month!” He rustles through the bags and produces a kid’s meal boxed toy, giving it to JungKook. “Here’s your Children’s Day gift!” JungKook pouts that he’s not a kid but seems pleased to receive a gift even though it’s a couple days early. HoSeok explains that he has to be at the children’s home on 5 May. NamJoon asks if they’re hosting an event that day. “It’s not really an event… I’m going to see the families,” says HoSeok. He plans to bring hamburgers and play with the kids rather than bring gifts. SeokJin is surprised to hear that almost twenty children, ranging from young kids to high schoolers, live at the home. “‘That’s more than I expected. It must be fun when everyone plays together.” HoSeok invites him to come along to take photos of everyone, and SeokJin agrees with a high-five. NamJoon declines because he’s too busy, and JungKook hesitates. HoSeok assures him not to feel pressured, causing SeokJin to reflect on how he has always been the “mood-maker” whose cheerful personality eases awkward situations and defuses disagreements. While lost in thought, he notices HoSeok taking out his medication. “How are you these days? Do you feel better?” NamJoon checks. “Hmm. I don’t have any symptoms, but I shouldn’t be skipping these.” A grim expression flashes across HoSeok’s face. SeokJin thinks, “It doesn’t mean he’s alright just because he smiles in front of people.” He guesses that HoSeok must feel scared of his condition, not knowing when he’ll collapse next. It’s not enough for SeokJin to prevent the accidents he can see or to stop HoSeok from getting injured—he must save him from the fear that isn’t visible. SeokJin resolves to find out what makes him collapse. Even if the condition isn’t curable, discovering the cause might help HoSeok get better.

On 5 May, SeokJin meets up with HoSeok at the children’s home, which is located near Yangji Stream. HoSeo looks happy and explains that visiting there is like coming home. They bring their respective gifts of hamburgers and snacks inside, and all the kids rush to HoSeok in excitement. One of the home’s staff greets them. HoSeok introduces her as Kim JungHee. He calls her “auntie” and regards her as someone who has been like a mother to him. As SeokJin helps her set the table with food, he thinks that the children’s home feels like an ordinary family home and HoSeok looks like the dependable older brother among all the kids. After taking all the requested pictures later, SeokJin joins HoSeok to watch the children play outside. “You’re on good terms with the kids,” he observes. “I’ve only been out of the children’s home about three months now, so I know them all,” HoSeok explains. (He moved into his rooftop room on 25 Feb Year 22 according to that date’s Note accompanying the Persona album.) SeokJin either comments, “Auntie seems like a great person. She treated me well and we’ve only just met,” or asks, “How old were you when you first came here?” In both paths, HoSeok speaks with visible adoration for Kim JungHee. In the first path, he mentions that although she’s scary when mad, she never gets angry without a reason. “Auntie JungHee is just… like a mom. She’s mom.” In the second path, HoSeok answers that he was seven when he moved into the children’s home. He describes how Auntie would sing him songs that his mother listened to instead of a lullaby when he had trouble falling asleep, and that was the first time he cried after coming to the home. SeokJin begins, “Then, HoSeok, when you were little…” But a boy’s cries interrupt him before he can ask if HoSeok experienced narcolepsy when he was younger. “What’s wrong, JiHun?” HoSeok asks in concern. The sobbing boy shows him a broken toy rocket. “My mom… gave this to me.” HoSeok is at a loss because it looks impossible to fix. “I’ll bring you a new one next time. Don’t cry, JiHun. Okay?” The boy keeps crying despite HoSeok’s attempts at consolation. Before SeokJin can think of another tactic, HoSeok speaks up, drying JiHun’s tears. “JiHun, do you want to go with me to see a real rocket?”

At HoSeok’s request, SeokJin drives them both to Yeongsan Bridge, one of the bridges that crosses Yangji Stream and that HoSeok frequents. SeokJin is perplexed about what could count as a “real rocket” as they head to HoSeok’s usual spot on the bridge, and JiHun appears suspicious but excited. “Look over there!” HoSeok points to the train departing Songju Station in the distance, picking up speed on the tracks. “Wow!” JiHun exclaims. “What do you think? That rocket looks cool, huh?” asks HoSeok. “Rocket? That’s a train,” says the boy. “Look closely! It’s a rocket.” HoSeok beams. JiHun asks HoSeok why he calls it a rocket. HoSeok explains that the front end of the train is pointy like a rocket and that it takes people somewhere far away. (He also refers to the trains as rockets in his 4 July Year 22 entry from The Notes 2.) SeokJin realizes that from his vantage point on the bridge, HoSeko has been watching the train that leaves Songju. “JiHun, you can wish on the rocket, too!” HoSeok describes how the rocket can carry dreams because the people who ride on it have dreams. JiHun wishes to become famous so his mom can find him. HoSeok falls silent for a moment before resuming his chatty demeanor. Together they wish on the rocket for JiHun to see his mom again. JiHun asks HoSeok what he wishes for so they can wish it on the next rocket. HoSeok whispers in his ear. “Wow, you too?!” JiHun exclaims. HoSeok shushes him, so SeokJin does not learn HoSeok’s answer.

After dropping JiHun off at the children’s home, SeokJin and HoSeok relax at a bar. HoSeok thanks him for his help that day. SeokJin asks if HoSeok visits Yeongsan Bridge frequently to look at the trains. HoSeok smiles bashfully over his drink and explains that he liked visiting it when he lived in the children’s home. “Is that when you came up with the rocket story?” SeokJin asks. HoSeok replies, ‘Yeah. The people getting on the train look so cheerful and happy. It almost makes me want to get on there with them, too.” He stops abruptly and calls out to a customer on his way out. The young man is introduced as DongJin, a friend who also grew up in the children’s home. SeokJin invites him to sit with them, hoping that he knows more about HoSeok, but DongJin declines since he’s with other company. Before departing, he mentions that he will stop by Two Star Burger to see HoSeok soon. After his friend leaves, HoSeok tells SeokJin more about his childhood. SeokJin understands why he considers the people at the children’s home his family.

A little tipsy now, HoSeok brings up another memory. The whole family at the children’s home goes to Yangji Stream on August 30th for the yearly fireworks, but when he was about nine, he had to be admitted to the hospital for a check-up. SeokJin either asks, “Did you miss the fireworks that year?” or “Were you sick?” In the first path, HoSeok describes how he snuck out of his hospital room and up to the rooftop to watch the fireworks. Along the way, he found a little kid crying in the stairwell who was looking for his mom and wanted to leave, and he brought the boy to the roof so they could view the fireworks together. He doesn’t know who the kid was or remember his face. (See the Additional Thoughts section at the end for who I hope this kid really was!) In the second path, HoSeok answers that he was falling asleep without explanation but the doctor said there was nothing particularly abnormal. SeokJin tries to ask a leading question to get him to reveal more, but HoSeok’s expression is grim. The paths rejoin with HoSeok asking SeokJin if he has attended the fireworks festival too. He looks wistful when SeokJin replies that he went with his family when he was younger. HoSeok brings up DongJin again. “He’s a really lucky guy. Even though it was pretty late, he got in touch with his parents and moved out to go live with them.” His eyes reflect bitterness. “DongJin and I… both dreamed of going to the fireworks festival with our parents. I guess he’ll achieve his dream for the first time this year.” SeokJin recalls HoSeok’s rocket story and asks if that’s the dream he told JiHun about earlier. HoSeok dismisses this: his dream now is to become famous for dancing. SeokJin remembers him mentioning this in high school. “Right, you said you wanted to become famous as a dancer so it would help you find your mom… Are you still dancing because of that?” HoSeok says that was why he first started but he grew to really love dance. “You don’t have any plans to go find your mom, then?” SeokJin asks. “Why would I go anywhere? My home, work, and friends are all here.” HoSeok laughs, but it seems like he is just holding on rather than truly feeling happy. “I just… like where I am.”

Episode four begins on 8 May, Parents’ Day, in HoSeok’s perspective. As promised, DongJin visits him at Two Star Burger and asks if he can get a job there because he needs money. HoSeok is taken aback since DongJin supposedly has moved out of Songju to live with his father after reconnecting with his family. “What happened to your self-reliance support fund?” DongJin confesses that he gave it all to his father, who said that he needed it to buy them a house but hasn’t contacted him since receiving the money. “I think my expectations were too high. They abandoned me once. Why wouldn’t they abandon me a second time? I wish I hadn’t met them…” DongJin’s voice wavers. HoSeok assures him that his father must be busy looking for houses. “Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll contact you soon. I’ll look into a job for you.” DongJin thanks him multiple times before leaving. After work, HoSeok returns to the bridge and leans on the railing. He often does this even when there are no passing trains—watching the flow of the river empties his mind and puts him at ease. But the calm water cannot still his thoughts today. He thinks about the many children at the home who want to be reunited with their parents, including JiHun, DongJin, and himself. HoSeok is honest about his feelings, acknowledging that he envies DongJin for being able to contact a parent, even one who let him down. He closes his eyes and remembers the day his mom abandoned him at the carousel. In the memory, she hands him a chocolate bar and instructs him to count to ten before opening his eyes. The screen goes black after “three,” and at “nine,” the player hears the sound of someone falling. (The carousel memory is also depicted in the Highlight Reel.)

The story cuts to the next day, 9 May, outside Two Star Burger. SeokJin is uneasy knowing that HoSeok collapsed yesterday, two days earlier than he normally does in the loops, and hovers nearby to keep an eye on him. HoSeok announces that he’s heading out for a delivery and heads outside to the delivery scooter. A passing woman reminds her daughter to count before crossing the street. “One, two, three…” HoSeok watches them cross the street and collapses again. “HoSeok!” SeokJin cries. He gets permission from the restaurant manager to take a still-unconscious HoSeok home to his room that overlooks all of Songju City. SeokJin helps HoSeok onto his bed before looking around his room. The player has a choice to look at the items on the desk or a familiar planter on the dresser. In the first path, SeokJin clicks past the screensaver on HoSeok’s laptop and sees that the web browser is open to an audition information video for a famous international dance team. (This may be the same dance team that one of his friends from the children’s home successfully auditions for, referenced in HoSeok’s 4 July Year 22 entry accompanying the Tear album and 7 July Year 22 entry in The Notes 1.) He remembers HoSeok mentioning that he’s happiest when dancing and knows that he still runs Just Dance, the dance club he started in high school. “I’m sure he’d do well if he applies,” SeokJin muses. In the second path, SeokJin recognizes the plant as the one HoSeok tended every day in their classroom hideout. He wonders what HoSeok was thinking when he brought the plant home and how he feels caring for it. The paths rejoin with HoSeok stirring on the bed, mumbling “Mmm… Mom… Don’t go…” SeokJin recalls that HoSeok called for his mother when he fell asleep in high school. “Is the memory of losing his mom related to his narcolepsy?” he thinks. “Are you okay, HoSeok?” SeokJin asks when HoSeok opens his eyes. HoSeok is confused to find himself at home. SeokJin explains that he happened to see him collapse as he was passing by and assures him that he spoke to his manager. “HoSeok, you know how you keep collapsing… The hospital doesn’t know why yet? You don’t have any idea what makes you collapse, either?” he presses. But HoSeok shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

On 10 May, HoSeok receives a call from one of the younger kids from the children’s home while getting ready for work in his apartment. The kid informs him that Auntie JungHee isn’t working at the home anymore because she has been diagnosed with late-stage colon cancer. She is scheduled to have surgery, but the chances of success are low. HoSeok’s mind goes blank, and he hangs up. When he rushes outside, he runs into SeokJin. “I stopped by because I was worried. Are you headed out?” asks SeokJin. Consumed with the thought of getting to Auntie, HoSeok says he needs to visit JungHee and doesn’t have time to ask why SeokJin is there. SeokJin follows, offering him a ride. The player chooses to have HoSeok either get in the car or refuse the ride. In the first path, HoSeok pretends to be calm when explaining the situation to SeokJin, but his voice noticeably trembles. In the second path, he declines because he’s afraid that speaking about it will make it come true, and then he runs to the bus stop.

The story cuts to HoSeok standing on the bridge, unable to remember how he made it to Auntie’s house after saying goodbye to SeokJin. He can only recall the face he saw through one of the open windows of Auntie’s house: JungHee laughing as she chatted with someone. The news of her illness and the low success rate of the surgery seems like a lie. She was the first person he could rely on after HoSeok lost his mom. He can’t shake off the vision of himself standing in front of the carousel “like an idiot.” Head spinning, he thinks, “I just wanted them to stay by my side. Is that too much to ask? What kind of terrible thing have I ever done?” The perspective switches to SeokJin as he watches HoSeok walk precariously across the bridge, looking both shocked and deeply sad. He reflects on his failed attempts to prevent HoSeok from collapsing here. Even if he stays with HoSeok like he did with JungKook or intervenes like he did with YoonGi, HoSeok always runs to JungHee’s home and then collapses on this bridge on his way back. SeokJin is aware that JungHee has cancer (so the first path of the branching choices has happened at least once, or he found out in earlier loops). The extra collapses of this loop weigh on SeokJin’s mind too. Something changed after HoSeok met DongJin, and SeokJin regrets taking him to the bar on 5 May. He looks on as HoSeok inevitably staggers and falls in the same spot.

SeokJin calls 119 and has HoSeok admitted to the hospital. As before, HoSeok is placed in the same hospital room of the surgery ward as JiMin. SeokJin decides not to visit him because he is afraid of running into JiMin and unsure of what will play out if he does. Now that HoSeok is in the hospital, there is no way to avoid the future accident in the stairwell. A few days later, SeokJin scopes out the scene. He mulls over the repeating scenario of HoSeok chasing down the stairs after a woman he mistakes for his mother. SeokJin connects the dots between HoSeok calling for his mother in his sleep and the way he cried in front of his Auntie’s house. “Everything has to do with ‘mom.’ If HoSeok’s narcolepsy is because of ‘mom,’ does that mean this accident is connected to the idea of mom, too?” In other loops in which SeokJin successfully prevented the stairwell accident, HoSeok continued to collapse more frequently until he eventually did so in the street. SeokJin contemplates how his condition apparently worsens after he sees a woman that reminds him of his mother.

The day after HoSeok is admitted to the hospital, 11 May, SeokJin invites NamJoon to meet him at a cart bar after his work shift. NamJoon brings up HoSeok first. Unable to say that he was the one to call for help, SeokJin pretends to be surprised that HoSeok is in the hospital. NamJoon reports that HoSeok had a minor concussion and is staying there for a couple days so the doctors can run additional tests. SeokJin wonders if HoSeok dreamt of his mother again and feels a pang at the image of him haunted by nightmares. He proceeds to tell NamJoon about their visit to the children’s home, meeting DongJin, and learning about the auntie’s illness. Cautiously, SeokJin proposes that HoSeok’s collapsing may be related to his mother. NamJoon mulls it over before agreeing. “I guess it could. Thinking about his auntie might have led him to think about his mom.” “I’m sure he feels like he’s losing his mother a second time,” SeokJin adds. NamJoon asks if he knows HoSeok’s wish to become a famous dancer in order to find his mom, although his dancing grew into a genuine source of joy. “So I thought… Dance had become Jung HoSeok’s cure. Something that helps him hold on. The thing that helps him bear something he can’t otherwise. That’s what dance is to HoSeok. Don’t you have something like that, SeokJin?” NamJoon regards him silently after this, leaving SeokJin much to contemplate. They promise to visit HoSeok together at the hospital. SeokJin hopes that if NamJoon knows just how much dancing means to HoSeok, he may figure out something from HoSeok’s reaction in the stairwell that SeokJin has missed. He just needs to figure out a natural way to get NamJoon into the stairwell at the right time.

On 12 May, SeokJin and NamJoon meet at the hospital. SeokJin suggests that they take the stairs since the elevators are crowded and lies about HoSeok being on the 3rd floor to strengthen his excuse. When they arrive on the 2nd floor landing, they hear footsteps and voices from above. The woman descending the stairs with a child is the one whom HoSeok keeps mistaking for his mother. SeokJin needs to stall until HoSeok comes down too, so he either suggests that they buy some snacks to bring or mentions that he may have got the wrong floor number and checks his phone. Moments later, they hear pounding footsteps and HoSeok shouting, “Mom!” NamJoon locks eyes with HoSeok and, unaware of what is about to happen, turns to follow the woman. “Ma’am! Excuse me!” Caught off guard, SeokJin is too late to grab HoSeok, who falls and screams. As he rolls on the floor clutching his leg, sealing the injury that will prevent him from dancing, the glass shatters.

SeokJin involves NamJoon in several more loops after that, but his attempts to save HoSeok end in failure. He wonders again if he should admit HoSeok to the hospital at all, but decides that if the incident is connected to HoSeok’s trauma, it needs to be solved rather than avoided. On a new 12 May, SeokJin stands near the hospital stairwell, prepared to intervene himself and ask HoSeok about his mother afterward. He spots JiMin emerging from the 2nd floor physical therapy room and pressing the elevator button. Hiding out of sight in the stairwell, SeokJin mulls over his options. If he prevents HoSeok’s accident, he still needs to get JiMin out of the hospital too—an effort that has been unsuccessful so far due to JiMin stopping at the exit or later having a seizure when they pass the arboretum. “Maybe the answer to HoSeok is… JiMin? What if… this incident is the variable between HoSeok and JiMin?” Heart pounding, SeokJin begins to hope that they can save each other. He doesn’t have enough time before HoSeok comes down the stairs to figure out what to say to JiMin and decides that he will just have to make the reason for his presence in the hospital believable. “JiMin!” he calls. “SeokJin? How are you here—” Looking shocked, JiMin steps back like he’s about to run away. SeokJin realizes that they haven’t met in this loop yet, and JiMin strongly dislikes people knowing that he’s in the hospital. With no time to explain, SeokJin leaves him behind and rushes into the stairwell. But he’s too late to catch HoSeok’s fall, and the story concludes with the glass shattering once again. (Based on The Notes 1, we know that the “successful” decision SeokJin makes in later loops is to stay out of sight when he calls JiMin. JiMin is puzzled by the silhouette he sees in the doorway and enters the stairwell just in time to catch HoSeok.)

Additional Thoughts

JiMin’s mother, Sim SeonMi, becomes one of the most fleshed-out adult characters in the BU narrative so far thanks to his story. We already knew the most about SeokJin’s father, Kim ChangJun, due to his role in The Notes 2. I’ve had an inkling of a suspicion that JiMin’s parents were connected in some way to SeokJin’s father, so I was satisfied to see this confirmed in the game. I’m curious about JiMin’s father and the lack of details surrounding him. He has only been depicted once in The Notes 1, when JiMin returned home days after sneaking out of the hospital with his friends.

Though it’s never explicitly stated in the texts, the Wings Short Film #6 MAMA depicts that HoSeok is diagnosed with Munchausen’s syndrome, a psychological disorder in which the individual pretends to be ill or deliberately produces symptoms of the illness. His prescription pills are actually placebos. On 16 May Year 22 in The Notes 1, HoSeok confesses to JiMin that his narcolepsy is fake, although he doesn’t feign symptoms on purpose.

I was personally a little disappointed with the lack of new information in HoSeok’s story. While his relationships with the auntie and other children from the home are explored in greater detail, the most significant plot points if his arc have already been covered as of The Notes 2.

I have no proof for this, but I want the unidentified crying boy who young HoSeok met in the hospital stairwell and brought to the rooftop to see the fireworks to be JiMin. If HoSeok was 9 at the time, then JiMin was 7. He has been in and out of the hospital since the arboretum incident (earlier that same year), so it is plausible that he had an overlapping stay with HoSeok in the summer of Year 11.

As mentioned above, the following “tl;dr” commentary summarizes the parenthetical notes I provided in the summaries in case you want to review them on their own.

Stopped Time — tl;dr commentary

In the opening cutscene, JiMin plays on the colored tiles in a hospital hallway and stops when he reaches “the line” by the exit door. This line marks the end of the psychiatric ward and is first described in his 11 May Year 22 entry in The Notes 1.

The Songho Foundation patron meeting that SeokJin attends on 22 April Year 22 was suggested by the city’s Deputy Mayor at the inauguration ceremony on 11 April. That earlier ceremony played out in JungKook’s arc.

Before the loop reset, SeokJin waits outside the Gyeong Il Hospital as he plans his next move since JiMin is moving out of the surgical ward that day. The date is unspecified in the game, but in The Notes 1, he is scheduled to return to the psychiatric ward on 16 May.

In this story, SeokJin picks TaeHyung to help him free JiMin from the hospital. He hopes that TaeHyung will be JiMin’s “answer,” just like YoonGi needed JungKook. JungKook saving YoonGi is not a solution that played out in YoonGi’s story, but this is a familiar theme from Notes 1 and forward. However, SeokJin and TaeHyung are caught by JiMin’s mother while trying to leave the hospital with him. We know from The Notes 1 that SeokJin’s later, successful choice ends up being HoSeok instead.

Before coldly leaving SeokJin and TaeHyung to rejoin her son, Sim SeonMi touches TaeHyung’s shoulder for a moment. This same gesture was given to HoSeok in the hospital after JiMin’s seizure at the bus stop on 15 September Year 20 in Notes 1. To SeokJin, her presence is like a wall separating them from JiMin. This echoes HoSeok’s feeling that she was drawing an uncrossable line between them that September.

At the end of the story, the vision JiMin sees reflected in the sink water of “that day” is referring to 6 April Year 11 and the events of the arboretum, first introduced in that dated entry in The Notes 1 and revealed in full on 12 August Year 22 of The Notes 2.

Someone Left Behind — tl;dr commentary

In the story’s opening, SeokJin refers to HoSeok’s collapse on 10 May. This is the date that HoSeok collapses and wakes up in the hospital in The Notes 1, and it is likely the moment referenced by his bridge scene in the I Need U MV.

When SeokJin observes that HoSeok is on good terms with the kids from the children’s home, HoSeok explains that he’s only been out of the home for about three months. He moved into his rooftop room on 25 Feb Year 22 according to that date’s Note accompanying the Persona album.

As he does in the game, HoSeok refers to the trains as “rockets” in his 4 July Year 22 entry from The Notes 2.

HoSeok’s memory of being abandoned at the carousel is also depicted in the Highlight Reel.

When searching HoSeok’s apartment, SeokJin notices the laptop’s web browser is open to an audition information video for a famous international dance team. This may be the same dance team that one of his friends from the children’s home successfully auditions for, referenced in HoSeok’s 4 July Year 22 entry accompanying the Tear album and 7 July Year 22 entry in The Notes 1.

At the end of the story, SeokJin hopes to gain JiMin’s help to save HoSeok but ends up spooking him because they haven’t met in that loop yet. Based on The Notes 1, we know that the “successful” decision SeokJin makes in later loops is to stay out of sight when he calls JiMin. JiMin is puzzled by the silhouette he sees in the doorway and enters the stairwell just in time to catch HoSeok.

Did you learn anything new from these stories that I did not specifically mention? Let me know in the replies or tags! Please stay tuned for part 4, featuring TaeHyung and the Epilogue.

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rin-solo · 3 years ago

Photo

For day 5 of @tucweek‘s TUC week, I knew right away what I would draw. I LOVE the prophecies as plot-driving tools in TUC, this series is actually one of the best examples for using its prophecies really well. I will never forgive Collins and CoC for invalidating them for what feels like sheer subversion of expectations. So in AHS this doesn’t happen, ofc.

Disclaimer: Yes, all my entries will be art, and all of them will take place in the AHS AU (view r/AnUnderlandStory for details).

So, we have the introduction of the Peacemaker in CoC, but first of all it’s criminally underutilized as a prophecy, compared to every other, and man did I get angry when they hinted at Ripred making that second scar himself. It’s so perfect, the character you never expect to be the one called Peacemaker but when you look back on everything, actually IS a Peacemaker... brilliant! It was butchered in canon ofc, but that’s what you have me for.

In AHS, I vastly expanded the Peacemaker concept and role - hint, it has to do with how peace is made in the end, as Luxa and Ripred bonding never happens either (that’s just too much a can of worms... pretty on the outside, but the inside... WORMS). We witness Ripred receiving the second scar too, and no he doesn’t make it himself. He just receives a baton.

Ah yes, I also extended the text itself. For any of you who have read my OS “Ancient Secrets” (available on r/AnUnderlandStory), you know about the secret second room of prophecies already. Well, guess where they discover the full text in the end :3 And of course it had to be Nerissa in the art, finally gazing upon the full and unabridged text of her favorite prophecy -

On soft feet | by none detected

Dealing death | by most rejected

Killed by claw | since resurrected

Marked by X | two lines connected

Finally | they intersected

Two lines met | one unexpected

Baton passed | by claw injected

One will fall | One is elected

To make peace from wrathful oath

Uncover there is room for both.

Art is of course mine, some edits were done in Canva. The background and the writing here actually turned out really well here, I’m proud of those. Messed around with some filters to get the “engraving” effect but I believe I’m pretty close.

Looking forward to posting more soon, and fly you high!

#tuc week #underland chronicles #the underland chronicles #Gregor the Overlander #Suzanne Collins #TUC #underland chronicles fandom week #a henry story #ahs #a henry story au

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ramblingkat · 3 years ago

Text

Fic: Tattoos

A late fic for Day 3 of UraIchi Week 2021. I went with Rebellion, which has turned into no power au Teenage Rebellion. With implied underage smuttiness, though it’s not on screen.

Characters: Kurosaki Ichigo/Urahara Kisuke, Shihoin Yoruichi

Summary: Isshin was a ridiculously lenient parent. At least to Ichigo. He’d never put many limits on his oldest child, no matter what shit Ichigo got up to. So when he had firmly said no tattoos, most people would have assumed that Ichigo would have agreed, as one of the few requests of his father.

Those people did not know Ichigo very well.

Isshin was a ridiculously lenient parent. At least to Ichigo. He’d never put many limits on his oldest child, no matter what shit Ichigo got up to. So when he had firmly said no tattoos, most people would have assumed that Ichigo would have agreed, as one of the few requests of his father.

Those people did not know Ichigo very well.

He went from idly speculating on them, because Renji some crazy ones over his neck and shoulders. And even further down. When Isshin had heard Ichigo talking about it with Karin, he had put his foot down. And Ichigo went from idly speculating to wanting one more than anything he had ever wanted.

He might be a bit of a shit.

At first, he had just done some research, checking prices and styles and such. The biggest problem he was running into was that he wanted someone decent who would still give him one. The biggest stumbling block was the first thing Yoruichi-san mentioned when he asked where she got hers.

“You are underage,” the woman pointed out, even as she admired the tattoo that was exposed on her thigh. The woman did enjoy showing off skin wherever she could, and the tattoo she had curling around her leg was much more in line with what Ichigo was looking for over Renji’s thick black lines.

“So?” Ichigo looked at her, expression one hundred perfect unimpressed. “It’s not like I don’t have a fake ID. -You- got me that ID so we could go drinking together.” He waved away that concern. “Look. I want one, but I’m trying to be smart about it. Besides, I know you. You know every underhanded, shady place around. I know you know at least one place that will give me a tattoo without giving me who knows what else.”

He stared into her gold eyes, determination evident in his. “And if not, I’ll talk to Renji. I know he got his first ones done while he was underage.”

“Renji has shit taste,” Yoruichi protested, even as she was pulling out her phone. Ichigo felt a certain smugness as he realized that he had won. At least a little bit. She was contacting someone, and given her opinions of Isshin, Ichigo knew it wasn’t his father.

There was a soft buzz as whoever she texted replied after a bit. Yoruichi read it, then tucked her phone away. “You are buying me lunch,” the woman informed Ichigo. “And we are stopping off, and you are buying some more food. If we bring him breakfast, he’s more likely to hear you out, at least. After that, it’s up to you to convince him.”

Already standing, Ichigo frowned a bit. Breakfast? It was afternoon.

“Who are we going to?” The use of ‘him’ meant it wasn’t Soi Fon or his cousin Kukaku. Not that he thought either of them were tattoo people, even if his cousin had a pretty nice one herself. But those were some of the few people he knew that were in Yoruichi’s circle of friends.

“My adopted brother.” She grinned. “Don’t worry. He’s much less likely to bite if we bring him food.”

The first view of Yoruichi’s brother would have told Ichigo they were likely adopted siblings anyway. He was pale, the skin that Ichigo could see, with a mass of ash blond hair bundled up into a messy bun.

His back, which was facing them as they came in, was bare of cloth but covered with ink. The center of it was a woman with long dark hair in an elaborate hairstyle, wrapped in red fabric. Her pose reminded him of the statues of bodhisattvas or saints, all calm and poise, her eyes close and face a picture of peace.

Her arms, though, were jointed like a doll’s. In one was a blade. The other held a fan with sharpen tips.

It was a nice piece, and Ichigo wanted to look at it more. But the sound of them coming in made the man turn. He blinked a little blearily at them, though he perked up at seeing Yoruichi.

Then the smell of the food in the bag Ichigo carried got the man’s attention. The blond sniffed the air a few times, then looked at Ichigo. He had pale eyes, though they looked more blue or gray rather than Yoruichi’s gold.

After an elbow from Yoruichi, and Ichigo offered up the food. It vanished from his hand, and he blinked as he saw Kisuke start digging into it. Shit, the guy was as fast as Yoruichi was. Guess he trained in the family martial arts as well.

It would explain the man’s shoulders. And arms. And the muscles on his back that were not hidden by the ink at all. And the man’s chest, where it wasn’t hidden by the loose wrap that seemed to be his shirt. Ichigo was convinced it was a scarf with pretensions, as it looped around the man’s neck, then dropped to tie around his waist. Technically, he had a shirt, even if it hid very little. That was something Ichigo could appreciate.

Ichigo swallowed as he realized that Yoruichi’s brother was hot. Really hot. The sort of hot that made Ichigo want to put his mouth all over the guy. Shit.

“You two have fun,” Yoruichi chirped, waving and letting herself back out of the door. There was a wordless sound of protest from Ichigo, who felt a bit abandoned. Then he heard a chuckle from the man.

“Ah, Yoruichi-san is a fan of throwing people in the deep end,” he said. “Please, have a seat, Kurosaki-san.” The man smiled. “I’m Urahara Kisuke.”

Ichigo blinked, even as he did grab a seat. They were in a lounge area, and he realized Yoruichi had led them through a side door of a tattoo parlor. “Good afternoon,” he said, memories of manners his mother had taught him kicking in. No Shihoin? Wasn’t he adopted?

Though…. “When did Yoruichi-san tell you my name?” It was a dumb question, but Ichigo was looking for anything to fill the quiet that wasn’t “Gimme a tattoo,” or “You are hot, fuck me over this chair?”

There was a soft laugh as Kisuke set the cup of juice that Yoruichi had insisted them pick up down. “I’m the one who made your ID.”

Oh. Ichigo had not expected that. Tattoo artist and a forger? That was a range of talents.

He was pulled from his thoughts as something landed on his lap, and he looked down to see an imperious black cat looking up at him. He was reminded of Yoruichi’s cat; only this one was covered in long fur. Long, soft fur, as he carefully started to scratch the cat. It took a moment of thought from the creature, but the cat finally closed its eyes and started to purr.

“That’s Benihime. She’s a pretty pretty princess,” Kisuke said with amusement. “And she will bully you for everything you’ll give her. I beg of you not to give her food.”

Ichigo blinked, looking back at Kisuke, who had demolished the food he had been given. “I don’t have any food to share.” Because the only food he had brought was what Kisuke had eaten.

The man gave him a lazy smile. “Well, depending on the tattoo we put together, you’ll be coming back at least once more. Maybe more often than that.” Then he gave Ichigo an undeniable once over, expression approving before the man stood and gathered his trash to throw it away. “So you’ll be seeing her a lot. She’s a slut for attention.”

“So we got something in common,” Ichigo said, mouth getting ahead of his brain as he watched Kisuke walk across the room, jeans accenting a rather nice ass. And the man was barefoot. Fuck. He was going to have to pay Yoruichi back for this later. Either with revenge or with something good. Because Ichigo was horrible at filtering his mouth at times, and he was going to end up hitting on Kisuke eventually. Probably bluntly. Hopefully, he wouldn’t insult the man.

Then Kisuke chuckled, low and throaty, and Ichigo had to swallow hard. “If you stare any harder, Kurosaki-san, you’ll set my clothing on fire. I assure you, there are easier ways of getting them off me.”

And if that wasn’t an invitation, Ichigo didn’t know what was. Especially when Kisuke glanced over his shoulder, smiling at the teen. “If you like, we can head up to my apartment and talk about designs and...other things.”

Subtlety was not a requirement here, apparently, and Ichigo grinned. A hot older guy wanted to have sex? Yes, please.

He scooted Benihime off his lap, the cat protesting as he moved her, and then stood. “I’d like that,” he said.

Having a chance for a little teenage rebellion was going better and better for Ichigo.

#UraIchi Week 2021 #UraIchi #Kurosaki Ichigo #Urahara Kisuke #Shihoin Yoruichi #No Power AU #Sketchy Urahara is Sketchy

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yoshkeii · 4 years ago

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Bokuto Confession hcs!

࿐ character: Bokuto Koutarou

࿐ genre: fluff, soft, confessions!

࿐ requested by: GreenTheSimp on Ao3!

࿐ imagine/scenario: “some Bokuto headcannons on how he asks Khai out? Plus maybe him being a goof towards his s/o.”

A/N: fyi, most of these will be coming from my Ao3 since I started writing there first! it’s not much and i generally don’t proof read these so im sorry if there are small errors, this one is a bit longer since I made two chapters for it. im so bad at writing istg,,

≫ ──── ≪ Confession Time ≫ ──── ≪

❀ First, Bokuto would be oblivious to his crush and his feelings for you till it was brought up multiple times by his team, and eventually at the volleyball camp from the other schools. Most likely Kuroo nagging him about the certain someone, Khai, Bokuto talks about so much.

❀ You and Bokuto were friends for quite some time, maybe at least a year or so. And being in the same class as him, you guys had time to interact with each other and even plan hangouts whenever you could.

❀ And yes, this man talks 24/7 about you without even noticing- this varies from your interactions during the school day, your conversations during classes and lunch, stupid dumb texts you guys have once in a while, the answers you give him from the many of many questions he asked you... the list goes on and on. This makes it easy for his friends to identify his fucking crush on you. him being so oblivious about it hurts their brains istg

❀ He's extremely bubbly around you, super friendly and kind but you usually brush it off as his normal personality. ibetyou'llbeoblivioustooaboutit.

❀ Once Bokuto awakened to his crush and feelings for you he found it extremely difficult to act like it was normal before. The slight blush on his cheeks was a much solid shade. His heart skipping beats every time he saw you walk in the room. Your laugh, your smile, anything about you made him so nervous around you now. When you directly smile at him, hearing your laughs at his jokes or actions will make this man just seize to exist.

❀ Bokuto can't stop thinking about you after that thought, always finding his mind wandering to the dorkiest, sappy shit thing he would do with you.

❀ Sometimes he found himself avoiding you at some points just so he can keep himself in check and not be an embarrassment around you-

❀ He still craves your attention but he gets a lingering fear he might mess something up so he has an internal fight with himself and it just- hurts him sm- poor owl,,

❀ Akaashi finds himself trying to motivate and support emo Bokuto at these moments, usually through texts or calls when they aren't near each other etc.

❀ You would generally think he would just confess to you as soon as he had the chance but actually took this on a slow thoughtful ride. To the point, it did affect his skill at practice, which notified his teammates about it fairly quickly. Bokuto was so deep in thought about it all he was unsure how to process his confession, when, where, what would make you happy, if you liked him back and such.

❀ This eventually leads to him asking Akaashi, the team, and friends (from the other teams' ofc-), on how he should confess to you. All of the answers didn't seem to fit Bokuto in a comfortable way either, which is hella surprising. Before he decided to do something pretty simple.

❀ Earlier today, Bokuto asked you to wait for him a few minutes after class. Knowing you two had different club activities after school, him having volleyball and you have [Khai's favorite activity]. It was the best option to get your attention since your clubs ended at different times made it difficult. And so you did, meeting him outside of your classroom, just you and him.

❀ Bokuto felt anxious about being alone with you, especially like this.

❀ "Hey, Khai..?"

❀ "What is it, Bo?"

❀ That little nickname you gave him, always and I mean always made his heart skip 10 beats. The blush on his cheeks grew a shade darker.

❀ "Wanna walk home.. t-together...?" Bokuto quickly mustered out the words, knowing his throat would dry up sooner or later.

❀ Both of you actually took a similar route home after school, which you guys figured out on a rainy day.

❀ "Oh, sure! Don't you have practice though?" You tilted your head innocently, your hair moving as well revealing the smallest of details that made Bokuto swoon.

❀ "Coach said we should rest for our game tomorrow"

❀ "Ah- that makes sense, I forgot about that-" You giggled lightly before you took the lead of heading out of the building.

❀ Bokuto froze at your giggle before you dragged him behind you. Your hand softly around his wrist. "C'mon slowpoke," you teased.

❀ He smiled slightly before he caught up to you. Walking aside from you at the same pace.

❀ It was an awkward walk. Bokuto was oddly quiet which made you slightly worried.

❀ "Bokuto? You alright..?" You finally broke the silence, looking up at the Ace to your right.

❀ "P-perfectly fine!"

❀ "You stuttered."

❀ "Did... I..?"

❀ "Yes, dummy- What's wrong?"

❀ "I-... Damn it. Khai."

❀ Before you knew it, he pulled you into a kiss. His large hands cupping your face as he planted his lips softly onto yours, pulling away from a little with only a few inches from your lips. Bokuto looked straight into your brown eyes, staring back with his golden eyes. The blush on his cheeks flushed with shades of red.

❀ "I like you. Wait- No.. I love you." Bokuto muttered softly, feeling his breath on your lips made you shiver.

❀ You just giggled, before it grew into genuine laughter. He widened his eyes removing his hands from your face.

❀ "H-hey..!! What's so funny!?"

❀ "It was so obvious Bo~"

❀ "Was.. was it!? I-"

❀ You cut him off, "I love you too Koutarou."

❀ Him hearing you use his first name WITH you saying ily to him, made his day. A bright smile plastered on his face, he hugged you lifting you up and kissing your face all over.

❀ "HEY HEY HEYYYY!! Khai likes me back!! Actually, Khai LOVES me!" Bokuto exclaimed happily

❀ After that, Bokuto was back to his normal, loud, excited self throughout the walk. You guys began to have your simple conversations again, him poking you with questions trying to get to know you even more. Having the lingering doubt he had from rejection and negativity was lifted-off from him. He even mentioned having your first date so soon-

❀ He couldn't wait to bring the news to his team and friends.

❀ He can't wait to see you by his side every day.

≫ ──── ≪ Confession Aftermath ≫ ──── ≪

❀ After the confession, Bokuto would rarely ever leave your side. So he does get clingy to you as he does with Akaashi. He's not much for PDA but he's also not against the thought, he unconsciously hugs you, wrapping his arms around your torso, waist, arms, and sometimes around your neck at least- Sometimes light kisses and pecks but those are generally rare unless he's really excited about something.

❀ He gets really flustered sometimes when you addressed him as your boyfriend the first few days and maybe weeks after starting the relationship. He's just not used to it- It gives this hunk of a man butterflies in his stomach a lot.

❀ Whenever you guys had to leave each other for your designated classes, you tend to find cute notes in your locker whenever you open them. Having cute phrases, flirts, compliments, and silly pick-up lines. You already knew it was from Bokuto because you... sometimes catch him lurking around your locker- just never brought up to him knowing it would genuinely make him sad.

❀ Bokuto just finds it cool that you don't know at first okay-

❀ You always tried to go to his practices and even games when you guys were just friends. Knowing that if Bokuto saw any of his friends out in the stands made his confidence skyrocket so much-

❀ But since you guys are now in a relationship, it makes Bokuto smile so much every time he spots you in the stands of the crowds. Cheering him on boosts his confidence so fucking much- like if this man is in emo mode please cheer for him, it helps a ton (Akaashi and the team might thank you also-)

❀ Long-lasting phone calls that continue till like 3-4 am. Sometimes facetime/video calls if you both have the ability to! He loves seeing your face, he finds it so fucking adorable with all your smallest features and details.

❀ Bokuto probably changed your contact name on his phone to something like "baby owl" with like emojis or something- or literally, just nick (pet) names he has for you- "baby, bae, cloud, cutie, feather, angel, king/queen, prince/princess" and so on. He looooves having names for you because it makes him smile every time he finds things that remind him of you (which generally is how he figures some of them out-)

❀ Whenever this man finds you sad, upset, stressed, or literally in any negative emotion. He will try his damn hardest to make you feel better even if its the slightest, and if it is the slightest he'll keep going to you are perfectly fine and dandy.

❀ He'll even go out of his way to skip practice if needed to comfort your sad butt- He'll give you cuddles, so many cuddles. He's practically a cuddle monster so better prepare for how long you'll stay in his arms afterward-

❀ Whenever you guys are just cuddling in general, he loves to nuzzle his face into your hair, your neck, and shoulder. Just craving the touch and comfort of his lover. Even if it's the slightest of motion, he'll take whatever he can get!

❀ Continuing on the cuddling situation, one of the secret things he loves about you is how you smell. The shampoo you use for your hair, the body wash, perfume or cologne.

❀ Since it's fall season (as of I'm writing this ofc-), Bokuto will drag you around for some walks in the cool weather through parks. Honestly hoping to find leaves to pile and fall into with you! I'd think one of Bo's love language would be quality time (and words of affirmation.) So hanging out with him makes this owl the happiest man to walk on this planet.

❀ Whenever you are cold on these walks, he won't hesitate to wrap his arms around you. If it's a specific part of your body that is cold, for example, your hands. He'll definitely hold his hands over yours. Maybe planting a kiss on them afterward (accidentally getting flustered seconds later-)

❀ Bokuto might also just stare at your hands clasped together, noticing the size difference for the 100000000000000th time

❀ Honestly, he likes to use Instagram and Snapchat filters with you. It's really cute af,, he's such a dork for couple things

❀ Body issues? Bokuto will love every part of you no matter what, comforting that every part of your body is perfect as it is. He'll softly plant kisses wherever you feel insecure. He'll cuddle you till you agree with him that you are a perfect human being.

❀ Don't try to sneak out of it. He's hella stubborn with topics like these- He ain't that dense and dumb guys,,

A/N: I love me some Bokuto huuuuu

#at-dusk;- 🌆#folder 📁;- 𝙷𝚊𝚒𝚔𝚢𝚞𝚞 #bokuto x reader #bokuto x male reader #bokuto x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #x reader #x male reader #bokuto imagine #bokuto headcanons #bokuto koutarou #soft headcanons #fluff headcanons #confession headcanons

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ddaengyoonmin · 5 years ago

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Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Angst-Smut-Fluff

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: lots of mention and description of weed and cigarette smoking ; unprotected sex ; overstimulation (f) . - as always kindly let me know if I missed something -

Summary: You are pretty whipped for your fuck buddy Kim Taehyung. It’s infuriating but you just can’t seem to stay out of his bed.

(huge thank you to @kingsuckjin for beta reading! <3 you the best )

————

Text from Taehyung 10:56pm

- come over

You sighed and rolled your eyes as you turned from your side to your back under sheets. You were already in bed, makeup off and pajamas on. So, why in the world were you considering hopping right back out of bed and getting ready all over again at damn near 11:00pm?

Kim Taehyung, and his god damn dick that's why.

You huffed and tossed the sheets off of your bed and walked over to your dresser, quickly rummaging through your panties to find a black pair that you deemed acceptably sexy and almost fell over as you clumsily stepped into them.

Kim Taehyung and his god damn dick. The only thing that seemed to ever be on your mind lately and it was becoming a problem.

You hadn’t meant to get into anything with this man. He’d slowly made his way into your friend group over the winter and spring through a friend of a friend and the two of you couldn’t seem to keep your hands off of eachother.

You would sneak away at any chance you’d get, going down on each other in bathroom stalls at restaurant get togethers with your friends. Eventually it just became a regular thing for you and Taehyung to have casual hookups.

It had never been anything more than that, and had never been talked about as anything more than that.

You angrily adjusted your hair, tugging at it too hard accidentally and cursing.

Why was it making you so upset that you were still fucking Taehyung?

Was it because after months of giving him what you could only asume was the best sex of his life, the only thing that you ever took home after your nights at Taehyung’s place was one t-shirt? It might as well have read “I had sex with Kim Taehyung and all I got was this T-shirt.”

So yes, It seemed you did want something more, but your fear of ever asking for more, worrying that would send him running, had led to this routine.

A routine that put you right where you were now. All dressed up and wearing your favorite almost matching (you tried your best) bra and panties underneath a casual flowy dress you didn’t plan on leaving on long.

You rapped your knuckles on the door, knowing that he hated the sound of his doorbell and preferred when people knocked.

The door swung open in a relaxed and slow motion. As was everything Taehyung did. He seemed to just flow around a room as if it was a staged play, yet there was no way anyone could create that effortless grace that he had.

He stood in front of you shirtless, of course. He was wearing only sweatpants that hung far too low to be an accident and his curly brown hair was slightly damp as if he’d just gotten done with a shower not too long ago.

You sucked a deep nervous breath in, as you always did before stepping foot over from the tile flooring of Taehyung’s apartments hallway and into his home. You knew exactly what was going to go down, it had happened at least a hundred times. Yet how could you not still have butterflies in your stomach when he was standing there looking like...that. Already biting down on his lip and making eyes at you with a smirk that told you he wanted you out of those clothes and on his bed. Now.

You stepped over that line. That line you’d crossed so many times knowing that you shouldn't.

He’d definitely just showered, as you stepped closer to him walking into his apartment you could smell his soap and the strong scent of his shampoo. The same smell that was on his pillows when your face was pressed roughly into them.

Always with the faint scent of weed and cigarettes as well. But that was Taehyung, and you loved every part about him, bad habits and all.

You tripped over nothing as you followed behind Taehyung, almost falling forward into him.

You hadn’t meant to think love. Love wasn’t the right word.

“You alright clumsy?” Taehyung chuckled, bringing a lit cigarette up to his lips you hadn’t even seen in his hand at first. Your mind blanked out as you watched the way his fingers held the cigarette, so cool and relaxed, yet those same cool and relaxed, long and strong fingers were the same ones that would move inside of you, bringing you to highs that you could’ve never imagined before meeting him.

How was he so…

“Earth to y/n?” He chuckled, lowering the cigarette down to his side, rolling his tongue against the inside of his mouth thoughtlessly as he cocked his head to the side, smiling and waiting for your response.

“I-I fell,” you stuttered, “Almost though!” you added quickly and a bit louder, as if it was an urgent addition.

“Of course you did.” He chuckled, shaking his head and squinting his eyes while flashing you a teasing grin before turning forward once again to head into his room at the end of the hallway.

His apartment was pretty big for just him living there. He’d done really well with his photography and made quite a fortune for himself, as if he couldn’t be even more appealing he’d shower you in fancy things every time you came over.

The last time you were over at his place you’d showered up afterwards and he approached you with a blue soft robe that you’d never seen at his place before.

“I bought it for you when you’re here, it's hot when you walk around naked after you shower, but you always seem cold.” He’d said, shrugging as if it was just a natural thing to do for fuck buddies to do for one another. You’d felt your stomach twist in a knot as he walked away and you stood in front of the mirror in your new robe, holding your arms around yourself and it as if it was Taehyung himself. Yet, feeling your whole body ache at the idea that any of this could go away at any moment. Nothing Taehyung had ever said would lead you to believe otherwise.

As you walked past the bathroom on the way to Taehyung's bedroom you saw the door open and the lights on. The blue robe was hanging next to the shower, washed and clean looking. Your stomach flip in what you swore was at least five somersaults in that second, and you gasped silently, not sure if you should read into that. It just seemed so domestic.

Yet, there was nothing domestic about the way he’d asked you to leave the last time you were over. “See ya man! Was a good fuck, see ya soon.” With a wink and a slap on your ass as he held a half smoked joint between his lips. He spun on his heels and shut the door. Off to go do whatever the hell it was that Kim Taehyung did that he never seemed to want you around for.

It hurt to always be kicked out so early, to have him talk like you were just his ‘buddy’.

When you walked into the room Taehyung was laid out on the bed in such a casually sexy manner. Reaching over to his end table to put out his cigarette that probably still had some more hit on it, but by the looks of the tent in his sweatpants he was eager to get started with what you came here for.

You didn’t wait to get to the bed to start raising the hem of your dress up over your head and toss it aside.

Taehyung grinned a cocky smile as you climbed on his lap. He gripped his fingers tightly around your hips moving you back and forth against his clothed length.

You watched his eyes flutter half shut and his hips were pushing up into you.

“I missed this.” He whispered in a soft and breathy voice.

You missed this too. More than he realized. You did have to stop yourself from pouting over the fact that he always said ‘this’ and never you. What you wouldn’t give for him to say ‘I missed you’

You bit your lip and tried to shove your emotions aside.

Taehyung moved his hands slowly up from your hips to the clasps of your bra, his fingers tickled slightly against your skin, every nerve in your body was on edge for him. You jerked forward at the feeling, causing him to let out a small chuckle under his breath as he shook his head at you, as if he was scolding you for being so sensitive.

He sat up slightly, bringing his face to yours, the rush of pure bliss you felt just from that closeness of his lips to yours was incomparable. The first time you kissed him you swore that you were going to faint. If his hand hadn’t have been so tightly wrapped in your hair maybe you would’ve at least fell to your knees. Kissing Taehyung was like the best candy you’d ever tasted, addictive and sweet, and likely too much of it wasn’t going to be good for you in the long run.

He slid the straps of your bra off your shoulders gently, throwing it to the foot of the bed. His lips left yours and heavily laid kisses down your neck and landing on your shoulder.

He suddenly bit down harshly.

“Ah! Hey!” you flinched, glaring down at him.

He left his teeth on your skin, not putting any pressure but staring at you with a mischievous look.

You slapped him on the shoulder and he let go, laughing and falling back in a somehow beautiful motion. His head landing on the pillow and making his curly hair spread out across it like a stunning painting.

These were the things that made you love Kim Taehyung.

Shit. There you went again thinking about love.

No. This wasn’t that.

This wasn’t that.

“You should let me take your picture.” you spoke to him, looking down at him as his brown eyes seemed to sparkle up at you.

“Just fuck me y/n.” he tilted his chin up a bit as he spoke, and his hands shot back down to your hips, curling his fingers around the fabric of your panties and tugging on them. “Off.” he growled.

He didn’t need to ask you twice. For anything. Your panties weren’t the only thing wrapped around his finger.

You switched places with him, your back laying on the bed and your head resting right where his had been. You couldn’t possibly imagine you looked anything like the angelic picture he had just a moment ago. But, you hoped he thought so. You wanted him to think so. To like you so much. To love you…

He dragged your panties down your legs and off of you almost immediately, and pulled his sweatpants down, taking his hard cock in his hand, tip already dripping with precum. Taehyung had been ready for you, wanting you, for who knows how long before he decided to text you.

Or was all he wanted just a warm body to make him feel good. Did he really want you? Or could anyone else be in your place right now..

You shoved those thoughts aside, and it was easy to do so once you felt the tip of his cock rubbing against your folds.

“So wet for me…” He muttered, propping himself up slightly with one arm, his head hovering over you, staring down at where your bodies met.

“Tae…” You whispered. It was a quiet plea, one he knew well now. You wanted him inside of you.

“Yes?” He tilted his head up, eyes meeting yours and an eyebrow cocked up curiously as if he had no idea what you could possibly need.

You whimpered in response, bucking your hips up into him.

“Use your words.” He chuckled, teasing your clit with the tip of his cock.

“Inside me!” you whined desperately, moving your hands to his hips, trying to pull him closer.

“Oh, well that's all you had to say.” he teased, and pushed into you in a single motion.

You gasped out loudly, and let out a moan at the feeling of Taehyung’s far too huge to be fair cock filling you up.

“Fuck.” he hissed, now lowering himself down against you, pulling one of your legs up and wrapping it around his waist allowing him to press even further inside of you. You moaned and your head tilted back at the feeling of him stretching your walls. It was pure heaven, you wondered if he knew how incredible he made you feel every time.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment. He pulled up slightly, his face hovering over yours, he wasn’t moving and neither were you.

“Hey…” you suddenly got worried something was wrong.

His head hung low, his hair fell so you couldn’t meet his eyes. He sat like this for a moment.

He didn’t answer, simply looking back up at you with an unfamiliar look in his eyes. It didn’t seem sad, just thoughtful. Then it was gone.

“You’re so fucking hot.” he muttered, dropping his head down into your shoulder and starting to move.

You felt chills through your whole body at his compliment, how was it possible for him to make you such a mess with just a few words.

His pace wasn’t steady, he jerked up into you desperately.

“Damn Tae.” you hissed out when he moved up on the bed a bit, adjusting his angle and fucking into you in a way that had you soaring towards your high in no time.

Your hands were wrapped around him, holding tight as if when you were to let go you’d fall a hundred feet down.

You felt the leg that was wrapped around him start to shake as you were right on the edge of cumming, and Taehyung felt it too.

His lips curled up into a slight smile, he breathed out a quiet, “Close?”

You nodded, biting down on your lip and letting out a loud moan of his name, your toes curling as he continued to fuck into you, it rushed over you in intsense waves, you shook and moaned underneath him.

You could tell it got him all full of himself every time he made you cum. The way he’d look down at you as if to say ‘Yeah. I did that.’

He kept going, not stopping or slowing to let you recover from your orgasm. It started to become too much and you whimpered out to him.

“T-Tae too s-sentsitive!”

“You can take it baby.” He chuckled. If you weren’t so occupied by your entire body still quivering from your orgasm, you would’ve reached up and smacked him for laughing at the pain he was causing you.

Though you couldn’t deny how much you loved it.

You fucking loved it.

You fucking loved him.

“Y/n, I’m c-cumming” he gasped out, his nails biting into your sides as he thrusted into you over and over almost clumsily, emptying inside of you.

You could feel the wetness between your legs now combine with the warm cum now dripping out of you as Taehyung pulled out and collapsed in a mess of deep breaths next to you.

“I fucking love you.” you whispered, not meaning to. Your whole body froze. Fuck. You didn’t want to even look over at him.

“Huh?”

You took a deep breath in and turned your head on the pillow, his laying on the pillow next to you facing you as well.

He cocked an eyebrow up at you, his lips pursed together tightly. Not the face of post orgasm bliss that you would hope for with a partner. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“I-” Can’t finish a sentence to save your life at this moment. Or a thought. Fuck.

“Didn’t mean to say that…” Taehyung muttered.

“Right.” You nodded. “That.”

Fuck.

He sighed and slapped one of your tits jokingly, flashing you a teasing smile before quickly rolling off the bed and away from your likely punch to his shoulder.

“Kim Taehyung I’m gonna deck you in your face one of these days.”

He now stood in the doorway, hands resting on either side as he stood cooly. He was always so cool.

“Toss me a cig ya hot head.” he shook his head at you, his features soft as he watched you roll over to his bedside table and grab for his cigarette pack.

He whistled when you rolled over so he could see your ass, still naked and full on display for him from where he stood.

You took one out and sat up with a grin.

“Catch?”

He dropped his arms from the sides of the door frame and got into his usual stance for this with a chuckle.

“I just came…” he laughed. “Don’t judge me if I miss.”

“You’ve never missed.” you laughed, tossing the cigarette across the room at him.

He dipped his body down slightly but came through victorious with the cig in his mouth. He winked at you and bowed.

“You’re so cocky.” you shook your head, tossing him the lighter which he caught and instantly held up to his cigarette, turning and walking out of the room.

It wasn’t long before you followed after him, hopping into the shower around the time he was getting done with his. He wouldn’t usually do more than a quick rinse off before handing it off to you.

You didn’t really shower together, you weren’t sure if it was because it seemed too intimate. But, you’d just always gotten the feeling it was implied you were to take turns.

You washed up, using his soap and shampoo as he’d always said you could.

Taehyung seemed to have a lot of weird walls and boundaries. He might never let them down, he might never let you in..

You knew that.

Yet here you were, naked in his house, alone in his shower, about to get out and use a robe he’d bought just for you…

The amount of mixed signals here should make you run. You knew it’d only lead to heartache but you couldn’t get yourself to stay away from him, from this.

You’d be back again in an instant if he said the word.

When you were done showering you wrapped yourself up in the robe, once again hugging yourself tightly in it, sniffing it at the shoulder. It smelled like him.

“What are you doing?” Taehyung chuckled from the doorway of the bathroom, making you jump in surprise.

“Shit.” You gasped, “Uh. It smells nice.” you laughed at your getting scared and he seemed quite amused himself.

“It looks good on you.” he muttered. His tone was serious and so was his face. It was strange…

“So,” you both spoke at exactly the same time. He awkwardly ran his fingers through his hair and motioned for you to speak first with his other hand.

But you were quiet, eyebrows furrowed trying to figure out why he was acting so strange. Could it really be that what you’d said bothered him that much? Even though he’d let you play it off as a slip of the tongue.

Yes…

That had to be it.

He was ending this.

Fuck.

You felt yourself start to panic and breathe quickly.

“I’m sorry!” you both shouted out again at the exact same time.

Now both of you shot your gaze to each other, eyes wide in confusion.

“What?” he blinked quickly, “You’re sorry?”

You nodded.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said. I feel it...It's true. So you’re right, this went too far. I love hanging out with you, you’ve damn near become my best friend.” you felt yourself start to choke on your words. “So I’m sorry I ruined things. I shouldn’t have…”

“No!” Taehyung cut you off, stepping forward towards you and grabbing you around your waist, pulling you tight against him. “I’m sorry…”

He sighed and kissed your forehead.

“I panicked. I thought, maybe it wasn’t what you really said. That you’d said something else or- that you just didn’t mean it.” He pulled you away from him, holding you by your shoulders. “Y/n I love you. I’ve been keeping you at a distance because I don’t wanna fuck this up but...It just makes me weird. I felt like if I tried to make this more serious than you wanted you’d want to stop…”

Your jaw dropped.

He. Loved…

You.

“We’re so stupid.” you laughed, bringing your hands up to his face, holding his cheeks in your hands and bringing your lips to his, giving him a quick and soft peck.

“Yeah, I guess so.” he smiled at you.

“I love you.” you said, this time clearly, this time with a giant smile on your face.

“I love you too.” he brought his hand up and flicked the tip of your nose with his pointer finger.

You felt yourself grow warm and fuzzy at the cute affectionate gesture.

“That robe looks too hot on you though.” he tsk’d looking you over. “Why’d I pick such a short one.” he shook his head.

You giggled and did a twirl. Taehyung smiled widely, his eyes not able to leave you. Though you’d felt his eyes on you like this, this time felt different.

This time, you knew he loved you.

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