#I’m allowed to express my disappointment in celebrities and people in the public eye

[oillydiya]

Things Between Us | Cillian Murphy x OC

Chapter 2 : Who is he?

Summary: Sansa, a 26-year-old graduate student, who unexpectedly encounters a twist of fate when she comes across an actor she never knew before!

Warnings: This fic contains explicit content related to sexuality and various age relationships. The content is not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. *The entire story is a work of fiction. All characters, time periods, and places in the story are purely imaginary.

All of a sudden!! The book on Sansa face, someone lifted it from her face… followed by a small, soft voice.

“What are you doing, nerd?”

Sansa opened her eyes to look. She narrowed her eyes slightly, allowing them to adjust to the light.

"Rest!" she replied curtly.

"Rest? In the middle of this restaurant!" her best friend Gigi repeated.

"Yes," she replied, half-smiling.

Gigi walked over and sat in the chair across from her.

"You really are a strange person," her friend complained before asking, "So what’s the matter? Why doesn’t her face look good?"

Sigh….! Sansa sighed.

"I’m not sure if I feel bad because I still can’t find a gallery to display my finished work or because I’m hungry."

"I think you’re just hungry!"

The young woman shrugged. "It’s true…hunger brings irritability. And arguing!" she told her friend with a frown.

Suddenly! Gigi shrieked with excitement!

"God!"

"What?"

"Huh, the man next to you is Cillian Murphy!" Gigi quickly replied.

"Who?"

"Damn it, Sansa. Don’t you know? He’s the guy who played Thomas Shelby."

"Who is he?" She still didn’t know.

"She really is a nerd! How is it to be British? Don’t know Thomas Shelby," Gigi scolded her young friend.

"Well, I haven’t seen many movies. And I came back to England for two years. Don’t you forget it!"

After finishing that sentence, Sansa glanced at the person her best friend was talking about just now….

She looked around for a moment…. He is a middle-aged man. Probably around forty years old. His sparkling light blue eyes really stood out to her. The face is slender and well-shaped, the lips are thick, the hair is in a beautiful, wavy style. She thought he looked very good at his age!

Ever since she sat here, Sansa didn’t care about anything or look at anyone. And she’s not much of a movie lover. Makes her unable to tell the difference between who should be an actor or an individual. And this person has a personality that looks like a normal person!

"He looks good," she told her friend after stopping to survey the actor.

"Hey! Gigi, what are you going to do?" Sansa shouted. Because right now, her friend is taking out her cell phone to secretly take pictures of the actor.

"Gigi, you have no right to take photos of other people in public without permission." Sansa quickly stopped her friend.

"Just one picture," Gigi replied in a hopeful whisper.

"I think it’s just the fact that he’s a celebrity. That made him tired enough as it was. You shouldn’t deprive him of his right to rest before he’s allowed, right?"

"Okay, I understand what you’re saying." The person who was scolded had a sad face. And put her cell phone down.

"I just want to have a picture of him to look at. I’m not lucky enough to see Cillian Murphy often."

Sansa looked at her friend’s face with understanding. She thought that Gigi was probably a fan of that actor because she looked clearly sad and disappointed.

"I’m fine. You can take a picture with me." A man at the next table spoke up.

Yes! The actor said Cillian Murphy!

"Really?" Gigi cried out happily. She quickly jumped out of her chair.

Her expression and eyes looked extremely happy.

"Please take a picture for me."

Gigi hands Sansa her cell phone. Please help be the cameraman for her and that actor.

"Smile," Sansa told them both before pressing the shutter to take three or four pictures.

Now her best friend walked back and sat down at the table like a winner. With a mouth that smiles and refuses to close!

"How am I?"

"Both are cute. Unbelievable," Sansa replied, half-sarcastic to her best friend before turning to the actor, "Thank you for taking the time to take a photo with her a moment ago."

"But what do you have today? Why did you invite me out?" Sansa’s best friend asked curiously.

"I want you to help critique the finals. I have to send them to the professor tomorrow."

"Um! I don’t think it will happen today."

Sansa’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. When her friend had such a negative expression, it was unusual because normally Gigi never rejected her. No matter what, Gigi is always ready by she side. But this time it’s not!

Sansa narrowed her eyes, a mischievous smile curling the corners of her mouth, before using the persuasive course that she usually uses to attack Gigi.

"Please, please Gigi…. If I don’t have you, I cannot criticize any work in my own life."

The young woman grabbed her best friend’s wrist and held her. Sansa began to press her lips sweetly…. Sniff…. Before pulling the back of Gigi’s hand and rubbing it on her own left cheek. With a soft kiss all over the back of that hand.

"Please, Gigi, na….Gigi."

And the coolest trick she likes to use is the purring sound of little kittens.

"Please, Gigi, nuh…ngh…na…meow…meow na na." Her cheek continued to rub the back of Gigi hand without stopping.

She increased the pressure with her eyes sparkling from tears. Pretending to squeeze to attack her dear friend, found something like this… Anyway, Gigi will definitely accept her!

"Okay, okay, stop…stop it! Stop making that little cat sound," Gigi said half-laughing. Ready to pull out her hand.

"Today I really couldn’t go help her criticize her work. I have an appointment with David’s parents."

She made a serious face, ready to explain the reasons. "I also had to stay at his house. Because tomorrow we’re going to have a picnic in Scotland."

The young woman listened to her best friend’s answer. She leaned over and crossed her arms over her chest in dissatisfaction.

"You’re the meanest witch of this century!" Sansa angrily cursed at Gigi.

"You’re also the naughtiest girl I’ve ever met," she replied to Sansa, amused.

"Brae!!" The girl stuck out her tongue at her best friend instead of answering.

Sansa is currently busy drinking a chocolate cheese milkshake, which the employee had just served to her a moment ago.

"I think you need a partner."

Her best friend turned and spoke in a serious tone while staring at the young woman with concern.

"What do you mean?" Sansa were confused by her friend’s words.

"I think you should find a boyfriend. Or go party, make friends, socialize, and you should have friends other than me," Gigi said.

"I party a lot."

"Drinking wine, listening to music and dancing alone in the apartment. That’s not called a party, Sansa!" Gigi roared!

"I already have you as a friend. There is no need for more."

She replied because she really thought this way.

"But you can’t have me as your only friend for the rest of your life, you know that? You should get to know other people."

Sigh!....Sansa sighed.

"Oh, Gigi! You know I'm not good at interacting with other people. It's too difficult for me."

"I just want you to stop being so introverted and have other friends. The fact that you're so wrapped up in being alone like this is not good at all. I'm worried about you, you know that?" Her friend complained lamentably.

"Are you annoyed with me now?"

"Crazy... I've never been annoyed by you. I just feel bad when you need help. But I can't help you."

Her best friend looked at the young woman with concern and continued, "I just want you to have someone to help you when you need it."

Sansa looked at her friend with fond eyes. She understood Gigi’s concern for her. But damn! Having to socialize or interact with other people is so... There was no one around her that she felt close to, except for this one person, Gigi. Gigi was like a friend, an older sister, and the two of them grew up together. Both of them are like members of the same family. And allowing herself to make friends with people she doesn’t know is very difficult. The girl was too embarrassed to talk to anyone!

"Hey... I’m okay. I’ll find a way out, okay? You don’t have to worry," Sansa replied, giving Gigi a reassuring smile.

"I’m telling the truth. You should have someone," her friend continued to say with a serious expression.

"I'm fine, and I like it. Just being happy with the things I care about is enough, right?" She replied to her dear friend.

Repeat what she think so that Gigi understands and is comfortable.

Before Mr. Louis, the owner of the shop, walked up to the table of the two young women.

"Hello, Ms. Gigi. How are you? Do you want to get anything?"

"No, today I just came out to look for this kid. I'll be gone in a moment."

"Okay." Mr. Louis turned to Sansa.

"Here! Sansa, your favorite juicy cheeseburger." He placed the plate of the cheeseburger in front of her.

A large cheeseburger was placed on a plate, complemented with crispy fried potatoes, and the meat was extremely juicy.

"Wow! It looks delicious. Thank you." She replied to him with the utmost happiness in her voice before lifting the cheeseburger plate and looking at it with delight.

"How is it going? The cheeseburger... Are you ready to be happy in my life?" Sansa said to the cheeseburger.

Kick... Kick... The sound of her best friend’s suppressed laughter rang out. "Did you know? I want others to see your cuteness. Just like what I’m seeing right now." The person’s voice was full of affection for the person in front of her.

Lol... Lol... Sansa laughed at her friend before joking, “You mean, you want to see a crazy person talk to a cheeseburger?”

"True, she’s a crazy girl who always does weird things." The two women laughed at each other.

Sansa picked up the cheeseburger and considered it before taking a bite.

"God," her eyes widened!

"Damn it! This cheeseburger is very delicious. It’s like going to heaven!" The young woman exclaimed, praising without stopping her mouth.

"Sansa…." A small voice interrupted.

"Cheeseburgers can’t get you to heaven. Sex can!"

"Stop it, Gigi!" She looked at her best friend’s face with a confused expression.

"Did you know? If I were beautiful like you, smart like you, I’d be going out every day and sweeping up men all over London."

Sansa’s eyes widened... Gigi’s words really made her unable to believe it. With this friend...

"Oh my gosh, Gigi, you’re a doctor, why are you giving me this kind of advice?" She blamed her dear friend before continuing to say, "Remember Sean O’Connell’s line from Mitty?"

"True beauty. Not looking for attention," the two girls said in unison, and Sansa reinforced her will…

"And I can tell you that. If I had to choose between a man and a cheeseburger. I’d prefer a cheeseburger." She replied to her best friend in an irritated mood.

"Of course… because you don’t know how to have sex yet!!!" Gigi shot back at the person in front of her with the expression of an extremely bored person.

"Stop talking about it! You’re making me nauseous. Can I be happy with this cheeseburger for just ten seconds?" Sansa was annoyed and embarrassed because this was in the middle of a restaurant.

Gigi tried to say something, but Sansa quickly raised her hand to cut her off. Ready to count on fingers according to seconds. One…two…three at her best friend. Before the girl could stop teasing, because right now, Gigi’s expression doesn’t look very happy with her actions.

"Okay, okay, I’m sorry," she apologized to make her best friend’s mood better.

"Uh!... But are you coming back yet?" Sansa realized. Just the other day, she had accidentally composed a song, and today she brought that song notebook with her. Sansa wanted her friends to critique her lyrics.

"Not yet. I’m going to stay with you for a while and then go to David’s house."

"Then would you please critique the song I composed? I just put in the melody. Not sure if it’s good or not. In any case, you can’t stay and help critique the finals for me."

"Sure, let me take a look."

Sansa quickly turned around and searched for the notebook in her bag, then handed it to her friend to see.

"Will you let me sing to you? So that you can understand the melody."

“Sure! Sing it.”

" ..Your Words Are Sweeter Than Honey You Nourish My Soul

Oh Just To Know You Is To Love Come And Make Me Whole

Take Me To The River I Will Swim I Will Swim

Take Me To The River I Will Swim I Will Swim. "

Sansa wasn’t sure if she sang well or not, but she tried to sing to Gigi. Will her understand the melody and content as completely as possible? She noticed that Gigi’s expression looked amazed. Her best friend sat still, listening intently with a bright smile on her face.

“There you are! Will you be good at everything? And damn! I never knew your voice was this beautiful.”

Sansa rolled her eyes and looked up at her friend.

“I sing 'Happy Birthday' to you every year. How can you not know what I sound like?” she reminded with a laugh.

“True, but it’s not the same,” Gigi laughed.

“So, how was it? Is the melody enough? Does it go well with the lyrics?”

“That’s great. But I wonder how you can write such a profound love song even though you’ve never been in love?” The listener’s eyebrows furrowed curiously.

“People don’t have to be in love to write love songs. Just add your imagination and feelings. I wrote this song because I read a book about it. Love is a river,” Sansa answered proudly.

“You really are incredible,” Gigi replied with a mysterious smile.

“I think I’ll try adding some piano notes. Not sure if it will turn out well or not?”

“Try it! I definitely think you did a great job. But now I have to go,” said the female friend.

“Are you leaving now?” The person being told goodbye sat with a sad face.

“Um, you can do it, right? It means criticizing the work. You have to help yourself. Please help yourself.”

“I think I can do it. It must have been rubbed away,” she replied.

Gigi packed up her things, got up, and prepared to leave. “I’m leaving.”

A close female friend walked half a step away from the table. Finally, she turned to look at the girl who was now sitting with a sad face.

"Stop giving me that face," she tells Sansa, laughing.

“What kind of face?” Sansa asked her best friend. Because she knows that this face will make Gigi’s heart soften and come back to her every time.

“You little puppy face with droopy ears and a droopy tail. Anyone who sees this must give up,” she said, returning to sit down in her original position.

“Hey, listen, I’ve known you since you were five years old. I love you so much. You're like my sister. We're like blood brothers.”

Gigi said, holding Sansa’s hand.

“Do you know that in my life I know a lot of people? But I’ve never met anyone as talented, smart, and gifted as you,” Gigi tells Sansa with heartfelt feelings.

“Don’t be kidding…she’s a doctor. That means you have to meet only talented people,” she replied as if she didn’t believe those words.

“That’s right! But you’re not like anyone, you know? You always manage to amaze me with your abilities. You’re good at almost everything. When I find out that you are good at this, you will have other things to surprise me. Can she do this too? Yes! That’s probably because you’re a nerd,” Gigi joked, laughing.

“Stop making fun of me!” Sansa who was praised folded her arms and scowled!

“Alright! I haven’t seen that finale yet. But I’m sure that piece must be excellent. Just like you always do. You’re very talented, you know? But you just lack confidence. You must have more confidence. And you have to believe that you can do it, okay?” Gigi encouraged her friend.

Before adding that, “Or if you really can’t criticize your own work. You can take a photo and send it to me. I’ll have David critique it as well."

Sigh…! Sansa sighed.

“It’s okay, art has to be seen with your own eyes. If you don’t see those images with your own eyes, you won’t understand what I’m about to say. Come on, I’m fine. I’ll find my own way. You go!” Sansa also said to her best friend. Sad tone. But she kept her feelings down because she didn’t want her to worry.

“Okay.” Gigi stood up and reached out to ruffle the girl’s hair.

“Go on, nerd. You can definitely do it.” With a hand still rubbing his head like that,

“Stop treating me like a child. I’m twenty-six already, Gigi,” she replied, looking half-annoyed and half-embarrassed.

“You’ll always be my little five year old,” Gigi pinched Sansa’s chin. Ready to shake gently. To convey the love and affection that she has for this young girl.

They embraced and kissed each other goodbye.

“Bye, witch.”

“Bye, Nerd.”

Then best friend walked away.

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing ii. | m

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 2, 245

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

The next time you see Jungkook you’re slower than he is when it comes to avoiding his presence. You were smart but Jungkook was sneaky—a characteristic that allowed him to weasel his way into your heart and your mind.

“Sweets.” He calls, tone smiling and your heart flutters unconsciously to the term of endearment that sounded a lot more taunting than it should be.

“We’re in public.” You hiss, reminding him of what you were—his secret.

He seems pleased with your reaction like he enjoys flustering you till no end that proves his upper hand when it came to your dynamics. You weren’t sure when it happened but one day he decided he wasn’t your younger friend Jungkook but Jungkook who could dampen your panties with just his smile.

“You didn’t seem to mind at the party.” He shrugs.

You glare at him shifting away from his body that leans closer when he joined you in the study booth. You chose this particular place because it was secluded away from the main area of the library, tucked in a corner where no one ever goes because it was deadly silent.

So you have no idea what the hell is Jungkook doing here, especially when you knew he had a game earlier; given he’s still in his jersey and with the musky scent of sweat and his laundry detergent.

“I’m studying.” You clip.

You avoid Jungkook’s gaze because you know one look and you’ll melt. But you needed to toughen up because you weren’t going to fall pliant to his touch anymore, or his smile or his smooth words. You remember who he is and who you were.

“Me too.” Jungkook retorts, purposefully sliding closer with a random book he’s snatched from the shelves.

You purse your lips and straighten your back, focusing purely on the task at hand rather than the fact that Jungkook was trying his best to make as much contact with your shoulder as he possibly could with his own.

Jungkook huffs when he realises that you weren’t budging, fully stuck in a half-study-half-dazed mode whenever he was around. What he didn’t know was that with every press against your stature, was a flutter in response.

“Why aren’t you celebrating?” You mutter.

Jungkook grins when he realises you’re casually flipping through your textbook while you await his response. He leans on his palm while staring straight at your face, eyes set directly on your cheek that it makes you flush harder.

“I am.” He replies smoothly, “With you.”

You roll your eyes at the flirtatious attempt even if it did make your stomach feel funny. Jungkook made you feel things out of your own control but you knew better than to continue falling for the same tricks over and over again.

“I need to study so leave me alone.” You clip.

Jungkook pouts in a mocking manner before leaning back into his chair, wrapping his arm around the back of your chair.

“You’ve been avoiding me, sweets.”

You freeze at the statement, fingers tightly gripping the sheets of paper while you force yourself to keep a neutral expression.

“No, I haven’t.” You say tightly.

Jungkook scoffs, “I’m not stupid, babe. You’ve been avoiding me ever since the night of the party.”

The night of the party was a reminder to yourself that Jungkook was horrible for you because he made you act out of your rationale, willing you to do things that you’d never do. And you made that mistake once and you weren’t going to make it again.

“And if I was?” You retort.

Jungkook tongues the inside his cheek before looking ahead, a light smirk painting his face. It’s an expression you know intimately because it’s a look he only has when he knows you’ve always been pliant for him, ready to please.

“Then I’d be really disappointed.”

“Good. I was serious.” You snap, eyes finally darting to his face in slits and he’s already looking at you.

“But you’re not pushing me away, are you?” Jungkook asks in a low voice, and somehow his palm has splayed itself on your thigh, spreading them wide enough for him to rub tempting circles on your skin.

You don’t, because while his touch is scalding it’s just as addictive.

“Leave me alone, Jungkook.” You say through a shaky breath.

He chuckles darkly and then his nose is nudging your jaw, breath hot on your neck while he hikes his hand higher up your skirt.

“You don’t seem like you want me to leave you alone, hm?” He mumbles onto your neck, causing goosebumps to arise.

Your grip on the desk tightens when he brushes his finger over the fabric of your panties and you’re mortified to realise that it’s already damp. Jungkook realises this too and he chuckles against your jaw, biting into the flesh that has you gasping.

“I-I need to study …” You choke when he presses firmly onto your clit, your hips jumping at the stimulation.

“I heard you, sweets.” He hums, “Think you can multitask?”

You hate how he reduced you to nothing but mush, reasoning and pride out the window when he pushes your panties aside to spread the slickness of your pussy with his index finger.

“J-Jungkook …” You whimper.

His nose is pressed against your cheek when he trails his lips across your jaw, down your chin and eventually your neck. The feeling of his lips is familiar but distant and it only makes your heart clench at the unattainable feeling.

You remember that he wasn’t yours. That he is as much Jennie’s as you were his; and your eyes widen in alarm, hands reaching out to grip at his wrist before he can slip a digit into your leaking hole.

“I said we can’t keep doing this.” You say weakly.

Jungkook frowns at you when you pull away completely, crossing your legs so that he won’t have easy access anymore. Your cheeks are hot and it’s both in arousal and embarrassment because you’ve easily allowed him into your heart via your body yet again, despite your own mind warning against it.

“What gives?” He asks irritatedly like he doesn’t understand why you’re pulling away.

You don’t expect him to, not when he has all the options in the world and the only person that sees you like this is … him.

“I’m busy.” You lie through your teeth. You haven’t been paying attention to your books the moment he’s arrived and you were far too distracted to continue.

Jungkook scoffs, narrowing his eyes at you when you firmly avoid his stare.

“Don’t give me that bullshit. You’ve been acting weird ever since the party and you literally just upped and left when I joined you and Jimin the other day.” He bites, “So I’m asking again: what gives?”

You keep your lips shut because you don’t have the courage to tell him that it’s your heart that’s tired. That you don’t think you can do this anymore because it hurts too much when he pulls away and pretends like nothing happened, only to return when it’s convenient.

“You know I don’t like it when people don’t answer me, baby.” He growls, mouth impossibly close to your ear.

You tighten your grip on the table as you clench your jaw, trying to even out your breathing so you don’t say anything rash.

“You’re really testing my patience here, ______.”

And you’re still floored at how this was the same Jungkook that used to thank you with a wide grin every time you offered help with his homework in high school, or when he’d hold umbrellas for the both of you. This was Jungkook, but older, and a lot meaner.

“I just need to study, Jungkook …” You say softly, hoping he’d take that as his queue to leave.

“And I just want to have fun, sweets.” He whispers, lips close to the shell of your ear.

The word throws you off, and you feel the anger rise.

“Fun? That’s all I am to you? A fun time?” You fume.

Jungkook’s eyes widen at the sudden one-eighty shift of your mood when you snap at him. But like you mentioned, he wasn’t the same, shy Jungkook that used to follow you around everywhere—this was someone different.

“What are you implying?” He furrows his brows at you.

“I’m saying—” You poke into his chest with fierce eyes, “—I don’t want to be just a fun time anymore. I’m done with … whatever this is, Jungkook.”

Jungkook locks his jaw before staring at you with dark and unreadable eyes.

“You say this now but we both know that I’m the only one that can make you scream the way you do.” He whispers.

You shiver but stand your ground.

“I don’t care. What my mind and what my body wants are two different things. And I’m telling you that all of this has to stop.” You gesture to your bodies.

“What is this really about?” He sighs, “Come on. Tell me like a big girl.”

He leans back, brash and with a lazy smirk on his face like he’s half-expecting you to apologise and fall back onto him, mouth on his cock like an apology letter. But you’re so so tired and your heart hurts because you think of Jennie. You think of the same mouth that holds all the words to hurt you on hers, and you prepare for it.

“It’s because I’m done with you, Jungkook!” You seethe, “You can’t have two girls at once especially when you’re only halfway in my door and living in her house.”

Jungkook furrows his brows, “Two girls—?”

“I saw the video of you and Jennie.” You whisper, “I don’t know when the fuck that happened. If it was before you pulled that stunt in the bathroom or after—but I don’t want anything to do with that.”

You quickly clear your belongings and stand up to leave, but Jungkook has a tight grip on your wrist so that you can’t walk away.

“Why are you mad about that?” He asks, genuinely confused.

You gape at him, opening and closing your mouth to find the right words to say but they all fall short.

“Why—what? Are you not hearing yourself? Of course, I’m fucking pissed! You finger me like some fucking pornstar and kiss me like I’m yours and the next thing you know it you’re kissing some other girl while pretending like I don’t exist. Like we weren’t friends that grew up together or the fact that you and I were close before you turned into this asshole.”

Jungkook blinks at you.

“We are still friends …” He says slowly.

You want to rip your hair out because having this conversation only tires and hurts you further, but Jungkook is oblivious to the internal dilemma that you were having with your own heart.

“Friends don’t do this shit to each other, Jungkook.” You hiss, “You don’t fuck someone over because you can’t keep your dick in your pants.”

“Why are you acting as if you weren’t as into it as I was?” Jungkook retorts, tone defensive.

“It’s because I was! I was so fucking into it that it blindsided me! I don’t do this shit, Jungkook—not with anyone else and it just had to be you that this happened to me with.”

Jungkook pauses, and his eyes turn impossible dark. His face is terrifying when he inches closer, all evidence of other emotions but blankness and fury painting his features.

“If it wasn’t me then no one would’ve ever touched you.” He spits as your eyes widen at his tone, “I did you a favour by deciding that you were worth it. And maybe you’re not because clearly you got attached and you want shit to be exclusive, right?”

You stare at Jungkook because Jungkook was mean but never like this. Never personal and poking at all your unhealed wounds.

“Jung—”

“Shut up,” He sneers, “I strung you around because I felt bad for you. Twenty-five and a virgin? If not me then who else, hm? Jimin wouldn’t touch you and neither would Tae. You’re just an uptight prude with a stick up her ass that can’t do anything but study. And yeah—I kissed Jennie. Right after I fingered you so hard that you cried because at least she won’t just sit there like a starfish and take whatever’s given to her.”

You blink at Jungkook, arms limp by your sides when he spits all the venomous words to your face, unapologetic when his eyes burn with intense disdain for the person he was talking to.

Everything is numb, and you can’t react because you don’t know how to. But you feel a tear slip past your eye because it’s hot—it’s hot compared to the cold atmosphere that crackles in the air.

Every single one of your insecurities was thrown out the window without a single care and Jungkook looked damned sure that he meant every word. And it hurts even more because you remember confiding him in the same things he was weaponising.

You don’t say anything at all, but your body reacts and more tears fall despite your mortification.

“You’re such a fucking asshole, Jungkook.” You say through a choked breath, shoving past him with your belongings tucked tightly against your body.

Jungkook doesn’t even chase after you, frozen into place with his own words that left his mouth.

[chan-skz]

Going back the way we've come

Pairing : Hwang Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Summary: You didn't want to go, but forced by your parents, you gave in. Your relationship with Hyunjin hadn't started very well, after reuniting years later, you realized that a lot of things had changed. but for some reason, you couldn't push him away.

Words: ~ 7.5k

Genre: Fluff, smut (around the end), slight angst

Warning(s): Making out, Oral (f receiving), Fingering, Kinda raw language, Semi-public, Light choking, Light overstimulation, Teasing under table

Note: This is part of the christmas collab I'm doing w/ @hanflix and many other writers. I tried my best to give it a holiday vibe, but I guess I totally failed hahah.

A/N: This is the longest fic I've ever written for now, and I also tried my best in writing it, so I really hope you'll enjoy it! English isn't my first language, so I'm really sorry if there's any mistakes or non-senses.

Your fingers tightened around the collar of your coat, the cold breeze gently hitting your face. You cursed yourself for not having listened to your mother when she insisted for you to take a scarf, arguing that it would be colder than usual.

"Fuck winter." You said when you got back under the shelter of the bus stop, collapsing on the bench next to your bestfriend, where he was sitting.

"Hi to you too, Y/n." Jisung laughed.

"Sorry, really not in a good mood." You said, glancing around, noticing that besides you, there were few other people waiting for the bus.

"Do you want to talk about it though?" He continued.

"Well." You began, sitting correctly on the seat and turning to him, announcing your long speech in advance. He knew you by heart. "I argued with my mom about a stupid decision she and my dad made. They want me to spend Christmas Eve with them and some old friends of theirs! Do you realize that? I don't even know them! She told me they had a son of my age and that I was bestfriend with him when I was younger, as that would some how change my mind. Christmas is supposed to be between families, not strangers."

"Are you done?" He asked when he saw you cross your arms against your chest and sigh even more on the bench. He was really trying to keep from laughing at your despondency. "It's not funny Sungie! I'm really serious!" You complained. "How did I found myself having to spend almost a boring evening with complete strangers?"

"You could come and spend it with me if you really don't want to spend it with your parents' friends." He suggested.

"Are you serious?" You asked, suddenly straightening up, hope shining in your eyes.

"Will your parents accept, though?" He raised an eyebrow.

"No." Your mother firmly refused.

"But why!" You whined through the phone, kicking your foot at the pile of snow in front of you, in frustration

"Because Christmas should be celebrated with the family, honey."

"Family.. We don't even pass it between real family." You whispered to yourself, rolling your eyes, before setting your gaze on your best friend who was still waiting for you at the entrance of the high school.

"It's not the same thing!" She exclaimed loudly through the phone, forcing you to move your phone away from your ear. "Do you really want to stay with them on Christmas Eve anyway?"

"But Jisung offered it to me! He even told me that his parents wouldn't even mind!" You exclaimed in your turn. "You yourself know how much they love me!" You added in hope that it will change her mind.

"It's still no, the discussion is closed." She concluded, before hanging up on you. You sighed in frustration, kicking one last on the snow pile before turning back to your best friend. You weren't in the mood it was clear.

"So?" Jisung asked as you approached him.

"She said no." You answered, walking past him to enter the school. "But don't worry, I'm going to keep pushing when I get home, she says the discussion is over, but I'll keep pushing the subject."

"You really don't want to spend it with their friends, do you?" Jisung chuckled when he saw how persistent you were.

"As they say, perseverance always pays off." You gave him a smile, letting him know you weren't going to drop the case that easily.

"Yeah, but I don't think that's gonna work." Before you could answer, a group of girls down the hall caught your eye. You glanced at each other in disbelief as you approached your group of friends.

"What's going on over there." You asked curiously, as you opened your locker to deposit your things in.

"Ah, just a new student." Jeongin just shrugged, not looking away from his phone, too focused on his game.

"Damn, he's this special to create so much enthusiasm." You continued, taking your books in your arms before closing your locker and leaning against it.

"I heard he was handsome, rich, tall. The pure cliché you know." Changbin added, earning amused looks from all of you. "What? I only rehearsed what I heard, I didn't even saw the guy yet."

"My only question is who would get transfered to a new school a day before winter break? It's so unlikely." You were curious to know who this new kid was, since he already had girls at his feet when it's barely been a day since he arrived.

"I really don't know." Changbin shrugged. "But I also heard he was from your hometown. You must know him."

"No luck, I don't even remember a lot of things from back there." You were still a little surprised that he also came from your hometown, but despite all that, it didn't change your opinion of him.

"Merry Christmas!" Felix came out of nowhere, dressing ridiculously in rudolph. Totally his type. You couldn't help but burst out laughing at his outfit. The day before, you all had agreed to dress in a holiday theme, but it was clear that someone surely hadn't understood the real concept.

"What the fuck, Lix." Jeongin said, finally turning his attention away from his game to judge his friend. "When I suggested yesterday that we could dress like it was Christmas, I didn't actually mean to dress up like this."

You kinda felt bad for Felix as he looked disappointed at the judgment of the youngest.

"Rah, you are so boring." Felix said, crossing his arms over his chest before pretending to sulk.

"Okay, pass me your red nose." You added, rolling your eyes as Felix's face lit up.

"It's good now?" You asked rhetorically, placing the red ball on yours.

"Looks like a real clown now. Your makeup wasn't enough, but with that nose you really look like one now." Jisung said amused, making the whole gang laugh, except you obviously.

"I swear to you that one day I'll kill you." You threatened him, hitting his forearm causing him to whine in pain.

"Ow- damn you hit real hard-"

"Y/n? Y/n Y/l/n?" A familiar voice called you out, making everyone turn around. You then suddenly found yourself facing a guy that neither of you knew. You surely assumed to be the new student.

"Excuse me, do I know you?" You had to admit that the fact that this tall guy knew your name freaked you out.

"Don't you recognize me? Hyunjin. We went to the same elementary school." The so-called Hyunjin indicated, making you frown at his words. But your brain still didn't seem to recognize him despite how hard you tried to remember who it could be.

"I'm so sorry, but you must be wrong on the person. I really don't know you." This time you raised an eyebrow and looked him over from head to toe. You couldn't deny that he was handsome, even though you didn't know him.

"He's from your hometown, there's a chance he's right." Chris pointed, once the guy had left. You sigh in exasperation. "I don't remember him anyway. So whether he's right or not, it doesn't really matter."

You threw yourself on your bed, almost screaming into your pillow in frustration. Again, you tried to convince your parents, but it was a complete failure like this morning. They were really determined that you go with them, even though you had made it clear to them that you didn't want to. You spent long minutes looking at your reflection through the mirror in your bathroom. Did you have to wear a dress and full makeup to go to a stupid Christmas dinner? Obviously, it was your mother who forced you.

The red dress she chose for you was quite tight and followed every curve of your body. But it was either that or nothing, since you would've been allowed to wear something more comfortable. Everything had to be perfect, you rolled your eyes recalling the words of your mother, and also of your father. You didn't understand either why you had agreed to wear high heels, your feet were hurting horribly and the freezing winter cold really didn't help your situation. It was snowing and you were forced to wear these heels anyway, that's how your parents exaggerated. Luckily, there was no ice, otherwise you would've tripped and humiliated yourself in the middle of the entrance. You were torn from your thoughts when the front door opened, and revealing a quite beautiful lady about your mother's age.

"Y/m/n!" The lady exclaimed with a big smile, softly giggling as your mother returned the same energy to her. She wasted no time to make you get in and hugging your mom and shaking your father's hand. Once you got in her facial expression only lit up even more.

"Y/n! Woah, you've grown so much!" She indicated by taking you in your arms too. "You've become so beautiful, I'm sure Hyunjin would agree." She said with a slight smirk. Hearing his name made you choke on your own saliva. You tensed, but managed to fake a smile, even though you were praying inside that you had misheard. Unfortunately for you, all your doubts were confirmed when you walked into the living room and found yourself face to face with Hyunjin.

"Damnit.." You cursed under your breath, when you came to sit on the couch in front of his and according to the face he expressed, he seemed to have heard you. Lucky for you, none of the other adults next to you seemed to have heard it. You could feel his intense gaze on you, and it lowkey made you anxious.

"Dinner's not ready yet, because we got too caught up at the last minute, so sorry." Hyunjin's mother laughed lightly. "I know the kids won't want to wait here all along, so maybe they could go do something else until it's ready."

If you could think that the night couldn't get any worse, you were completely wrong.

"Stop following me." Hyunjin suddenly turned as he walked up the stairs. Making you roll your eyes.

"I 'follow' you, because I have nowhere else to go and I would rather stay with you than stay with them for a second. Their 'good old days' really don't interest me." You crossed your arms against your chest, defying him with your gaze.

"Whatever." He rolled his eyes, before turning around. His room was quite large, almost double yours. You made sure to sit in the opposite side of the room. You then found yourself sitting on the sofa while he was lying on his bed, both phones in hand. Your phones keep you busy, making you forget the awkward tension.

"How could you not recognize me?" Hyunjin suddenly asked, distracting you from the video you were watching.

"Do I really have to?" You looked away from your phone to focus on Hyunjin, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed and facing you.

"Did I change that much?" He said, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"We knew each other when we were kids, now we are adults, what do you expect? I can't recognize everyone I was friends with in my childhood at one glance." You said in a mocking voice. "I don't even understand why you keep pushing so hard for me to remember you, but if you really want to, just show me what you looked like when you were a baby. It would surely refresh my memory."

You didn't expect that he would actually do it. But your eyes widened when you saw the little boy in the picture. You recognized him right there. Your heart pounded at the realization, but you tried to pull yourself together. It was stupid to react so exaggeratedly just because you realized you were facing your childhood best friend, your first love. Finally you didn't really know if when you were young you really loved him, because after all, you were still kids, the meaning of love wasn't real known, nor understood.

"Stop Hyunjin, you're hurting him!" You yelled at him to let go of your friend's sweater, Chris.

"No! How dare he touch you! Only I have the right to give you a hug!" Hyunjin frowned, looking at you before quickly looking back at your friend, who just let it go, finding his jealousy quite ridiculous.

"But I was the one who gave him a hug." You started, finding his possessiveness frustrating.

You couldn't help but have a small smile forming at the corner of your lips at the flashback of this event. And you couldn't control your teasing.

"So how's your jealousy? Are you still so possessive of a temper?" You said amused, expecting him to becomes slightly shy and sulky as you pointed out his toxic trait, but what you didn't expect was for him to smile and look down on you.

"Oh, why do you want to know that? Unless you want me to show you what true possessiveness is." He smirked, looking you up and down. Your own smile faded as he watched you closely, making you feel oddly exposed to him in that tight, cropped dress.

"What do you mean?" You pulled yourself together again and asked, raisong an eyebrow.

"Well, I wouldn't have thought you would've had so many guy friends." His comment frustrated you for some reasons. After years apart, as soon as you meet again does he really have to get jealous over the fact that you have a lot of opposite sex friends? You really didn't like it.

"Does it even matter anyway?" You asked insistently. At your reaction, Hyunjin's expression changed, becoming more nonchalant again.

"Nevermind." He got up from the sofa he was leaning on and went to lie back on his bed. You took advantage of him not looking at you to detail him. You couldn't deny that puberty had blessed him, making him not only beautiful, but also extremely attractive. His hair, which he had dyed blond, was slightly messy, but enough to make it look quite classy.

"Do you like staring at me?" He asked rhetorically, but as you were about to deny, he continued. "No need to deny it, the trickle of drool at the corner of your mouth is proof of that."

Seeing your panicking face, he laughed out loud. Quickly running your hand over the corner of your mouth, you finally realized that he was only messing with you from the start. As you opened your mouth to clap back at him, you heard your mother's voice calling you from downstairs, informing both of you that the dinner was ready. Hyunjin didn't miss the glare you gave him as you sat face to face at the dining table. He could've simply ignored it, but the little smirk that appeared on your lips worried him slightly. He had a bad feeling.

Your parents were talking and laughing with each other, paying almost no attention to you two, which gave you the best opportunity to tease Hyunjin. For his part, he was frustered when he felt something caress his leg. Looking down he saw your foot caressing his leg, he wasted no time pushing you away, finding the whole thing quite inappropriate as you found yourself at the table with both of your parents. But you didn't give up, in fact you were determined to make him restless. You restarted your gesture, but this time, taking advantage of his man spread, you deflected your touching on his crotch. You knew he was going to lose his temper at this action and your doubts were confirmed when he jumped at the feeling of your heel pressing against his crotch.

"Hyunjin, are you okay?" His mother asked, slightly worried. You could see a pinkish tinge forming on Hyunjin's cheeks and you had to admit he was so cute like that.

"And yes, y-yes. It's okay, I just banged my knee against the table, sorry." He managed to convince the others. After all, he wasn't going to openly say that you were touching his dick under the table. Stop that, he mimicked, his gaze changing dramatically to become more firmer, but it only made you keep going, finding his reaction funny and extremely entertaining. Suddenly he got up from the table, apologizing to your parents and pretending he wasn't hungry, so he could get away from that family dinner. Not wanting to be alone with them, you did the same, sighing in relief when you in turn managed to sneak out of that Christmas dinner. Except you weren't expecting to be tackled by a pretty angry Hyunjin from the moment you stepped into his room. You then found yourself stuck between him and the wall, his arms placed on each side of your body, blocking you from escaping from his grip. Besides his tall figure, which made him quite intimidating, didn't help your case.

"If you were so desperate for my cock, you should've told me." He said in a dangerously calm voice.

"What are you talking about?" You manage to say, completely confused.

"Oh don't be innocent. You really think this is a game, don't you? Do you think teasing my cock around our parents is fun?" You bit your lip and your eyes widened when he grabbed your hand and put it on his bulge for you to feel it, which was quite hard.

"You feel it? Now I'm fucking hard." He said in a long sigh of pleasure, feeling your fingers trace his length. He then leaned against your ear, his hot breath giving you chills.

"From the moment I met you again, I knew straight away that I didn't want to just be friends with you." You still couldn't quite assimilate the situation you currently found yourself in and it was only when he leaned against your ear to whisper those words to you with his deep voice that you finally broke out of your thoughts. Suddenly you pushed him away, forcing him to pull away from you and step back. He looked at you completely lost, not understanding your sudden action and to tell the truth, you didn't understand what had taken you neither. You couldn't deny that this whole situation had made you slightly aroused, but it was too soon. No sooner had you met again than you already found yourself doing dirty things? It was going a little too fast for your liking.

"That-that won't work, I'm so sorry." You avoided his gaze in embarrassment. After a few moments of silence, you finally returned your gaze to Hyunjin, who was now looking at you completely detached. And to be honest, his expression hurted you, but you tried to hide it. You knew you ruined your evening, that's why you decided to end up speanding it with your parents. It was quite boring, but at least it allowed you to escape the discomfort that would've been present between you and Hyunjin, if you stayed with him.

"And? What did you do?" Jisung asked excitedly. A few days later, you had wasted no time summoning Jisung, your best friend, to tell him what had happened to you. But no sooner had the story started than he was already feeling excited, obviously expecting you and Hyunjin to have done it.

"I pushed him away." You simply said, looking as if you didn't care about it. Even though a few days later, you were still mentally slapping yourself for pushing him away so coldly. While deep down, you wished things had turned out differently.

"What did you do?" Jisung repeated slowly, his excitement fading.

"I pushed him away and even told him that it wouldn't work between us." You closed your eyes, anticipating his reaction.

"Oh my god, I have never known a girl so stupid." Jisung said in exasperation. "You literally had the chance before you and you didn't even take it."

"I know!" You pouted. "It's just that I realized this when it was too late. I was in the living room with my parents, you really expected me to go back to his room and take back everything that I said and did to him?"

You concluded ironically before crossing your arms against your chest and sighing in exasperation.

"Well that was an option that you unfortunately didn't take and which could've prevented from finding yourself in this situation." He dramaticallyraised his hot chocolate cup to face, making you roll your eyes.

"I'm seriously starting to regret telling you this story and even offering to go out. You really aren't helping me."

"It's too hard not to judge you when you literally make so many stupid decisions, sorry." He said, chuckling at your annoyed reaction. "Ah, by the way, I almost forgot to mention it, but Changbin is throwing a new year party tomorrow and he told me to force you to come."

At the mention of a party, you whined. You didn't like parties, you preferred to stay at home, doing nothing, rather than partying among people you didn't know.

"Tell him back that despite you forcing me, I'm not coming." You said directly.

"Please, for once come on. And it'll help you to forget about your night with Hyunjin." Jisung begged you. It was very rare that you attended parties organized by your friends, one because you didn't like the vibe, but you also didn't understand the usefulness of getting high and drunk. But coming to think of it, not only did you want to forget the shit you had caused, but you also felt like getting wasted.

"Fine."

You scrambled through the room, the wave of dancing people glued to each other began to make you sick. Your glass in hand, you passed through all these people, until you finally got off the dance floor. You shiver slightly when you feel the light cold breeze brush your exposed legs. You were already regretting having put on such a short dress. It wasn't really ideal to go out so exposed, but it was the only evening dress you had.

"Looks like you're bored." Felix's deep voice surprised you, making you jump.

"Oh my god!" You exclaimed in surprise. almost dropping your drink. "You scared me."

You hit his forearm, making him laugh out loud.

"No, but seriously you look really bored." He said, calming down. You just nodded, it was true that you were slowly starting to regret coming. Your dress that bothered you, the alcohol that took too long to hit you, and the cold freezing were all the reason of it.

"Do you want to come with me play truth or dare? Changbin and the other boys were organizing it." He proposed to you, not failing to see you looking with disgust at the gathering of people completely wasted and grinding on each other. You accepted, telling yourself that it might change your mind. You didn't know this kind of game was still being played at parties, but you were curious enough what kind of dares and truths other players will throw themselves into. Obviously, you should've expected to see Hyunjin as soon as you set a foot in the room, which seemed to be Changbin's room, accompanied by Felix. Other than this one, Hyunjin and even Changbin, you didn't really know the other participants, but even then you cursed yourself for not thinking for a second that Hyunjin might be there too. You blushed slightly when you noticed him contemplating your body shamelessly. You thanked the lord for making the room a little dark, only a lamp on the floor on the floor litening the room.

"Y/n!" Changbin exclaimed with joy when he saw you, glad you came. Coming to hug you, only to ruffle your hair.

"Stop." You giggled. "You ruined my hairstyle." You pouted.

"Ohh, it's okay, you're beautiful the way you are." He said, making you blush. Changbin treated you like his little sister, his way to make you comfortable no matter the situation would always surprise you. Your interaction didn't go out of Hyunjin's attention. From the corner of the room he watched you silently, paying no attention to the girl beside him who was desperately seeking his attention.

"Are we starting or not?" Felix complained loudly, drawing attention to himself.

"We're just waiting for Jisung and Jeongin." No sooner had Changbin finished his sentence than your two friends entered the room, their arms laden with drinks.

"To spice up the game!" Jisung exclaimed as he placed the bottles on the ground, beside the circle you had formed. You had hesitated for a moment to sit down, your short dress really bothering you, obviously you didn't want others to have an easy view of your panties. You were then offered by Changbin his jacket to cover your lap, clearly having noticed your struggle.

"Thank you." You smiled at him, before kneeling on the floor and covering your legs with his jacket.

"Ok, we all know the game rules, right? But this time, if you don't want to answer the truth or don't want to do a dare, you're going to have to take two shots of vodka." Jeongin vaguely explained. "Okay, I'm starting."

He leaned over to spin the bottle, stopping in front of Changbin.

"Truth or dare." Jeongin asked with a smirk at the corner of his lips. It was in those moments that his inner devil was coming out.

"Truth." Changbin said. "I don't trust you enough to pick dare when it comes to you." He added suspiciously.

"What's your body count?" Jeongin asked, ignoring his friend's comment.

"Do I need to have slept with them?" He asked, waiting for the clarification of the younger. He took time to think.

"Then I think around 15, if not even more." He nodded. Hearing this number, you almost choked.

"15?! What the hell?!" You turned to Changbin, your eyes widening. "You better spill the tea, mr.Don Juan."

The game went on, you had to admit it was pretty funny seeing some people taking two shots of vodka and gradually get drunk just because they didn't want to do something, or even see some people do of ​​stupid things. Well, until Hyunjin's turn came and he had the misfortune of being told what to do by Jisung.

"Truth or dare, Hyunjin." He asked him with a smile, which the world that didn't know him might consider innocent, but knowing him very well, you knew he was up to no good.

"I guess, dare?" He answered.

"I dare you to make out for a minute with the girl you find the most attractive in the room." As soon as Jisung's words came out of his mouth, his turned gaze to you. You rolled your eyes when you had eye contact with your best friend. Seeing how the girl, who was sitting next to Hyunjin, looked quite pretty and looked so interested in him, you expected him to turn to kiss her. But you were a little taken aback, when he got up to approach you to kneel down in front of you, ignoring the complaints of the girl you think was one of his fangirls at school.

"Wait what?" Your eyes widened, completely lost. Your heart quickly started race up as you saw him lean towards you.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked quietly. You really didn't know what to add, you were literally wordless. Subconsciously, you started to nod your head gently, giving him your consent. When your lips touched, it was as if no one existed around you. The exclamations of surprise that other people around you were expressing went over your head.

Hyunjin's lips were soft, the kiss you exchanged was initially passionate, but the longer the seconds passed the hotter it got. Without thinking too much, you wrapped your arms around the older man's neck, pulling him closer to you, as he grabbed your hips. Too absorbed in each other, you hadn't noticed that the minute had already passed and it was only when Jisung called you out that you finally came out of your reverie, instantly detaching yourself from Hyunjin.

You blushed slightly when you felt a light trickle of drool dripping from the corner of your mouth, you pressed to wipe it off quickly with the back of your hand. Hyunjin, for his part, just licked his lips, giving you a smirk, knowing that this action would destabilize you even more. Clearing your throat afterwards, you for sure wanted to divert the attention others had on you, while Hyunjin, sat down next to you with a big smile on his face, not caring that all the attention was on you. After all he had finally kissed you, which he had wanted to do since the dinner with your parents, so nothing else mattered. Your thoughts wandered elsewhere as the game continued its course. You couldn't think of anything other than Hyunjin's lips on yours, his kiss had made you lose your head. Your mind was engulfed in unhealthy thoughts and it didn't take you long before you felt yourself being drowned by your own mind.

"I-I think I'm going to go." You huffed, feeling a pleasant, but quite uncomfortable heat growing between your legs. You were clearly starting to feel bad. You didn't give Changbin or Hyunjin time to speak as you got up and quickly left the room. The loud sound of the music playing backwards was much more audible once in the hallway, it's precisely at this moment that you could gradually feel the influence of alcohol washing you off. Luckily for you, you found the bathroom easily.

"Y/n?" You heard Hyunjin calling you, but you didn't pay him any attention to him when he hesitantly walked in. You were propped up against the bathroom counter, staring at your reflection through the mirror, it was easily recognizable that you were not feeling well. Your cheeks were red, your breath quickened and your eyes slightly narrowed.

"Are you okay?" He asked worriedly, approaching you, but he resigned himself when he saw you stepping back when he tried to come closer.

"Stop playing with me." You finally said, turning to face him. You couldn't help but slightly laugh bitterly when he looked at you in confusion, obviously not understanding the meaning of your words.

"Seriously Hyunjin, what do you want from me." You rolled your eyes, "You tell me straight up that you want more than just a friendship with me, when it had only been one evening that we met again. Things have changed Hyunjin, I've changed, you've changed. We're not the same as when we were still children." He was silent for a moment, looking deep in his thoughts, before he resigned himself to saying something.

"I understand that we are no longer children. And from the moment I saw you again I understood it very well. You must think I'm talking nonsense, but just seeing you and talking to you again last time, I don't know why, i had the same feelings i had when we were young."

He stopped talking to approach you slowly, making sure first that you weren't going to distance yourself from him.

"I'm very serious. I'm really not trying to play with your feelings, nor you in general." His gaze reflected a slight sadness. He was genuinely afraid of being rejected by you, even after his speech.

"How could I believe you?" You asked, hesitantly whether you should take him seriously or not.

"If you give me a chance, I swear I could prove it to you." You felt butterflies in your stomach at his words. You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it immediately, you really didn't know what to say. And he looked pretty determined.

"I hope you're not going to make me regret it then." You manage to say. At your answer, his face lit up. He was anxious that you would reject him, that you would tell him that his 'confession' was absurd, but he felt a huge weight off his shoulders at your words. His gaze wandered over your lips for a few seconds, before he glanced quickly behind him.

"I-" He started slowly, looking suddenly slightly embarrassed. "Can I kiss you?"

His question made you smile for real this time, finding his reaction rather unexpected and ironic, given of what had happened earlier.

"Really, Hyunjin? You literally kissed me in front of dozens of people and now you're getting all embarrassed." You teased him. "So cute."

At your last comment, his expression changed dramatically. Suddenly, he leaned over and grabbed your chin, forcing you to lock your eyes with his.

"Me, cute?" He tilted his head to the side, his gaze languishing in your face, as if to memorize every detail. "You sure about that?" All trace of embarrassment had disappeared from his attitude. He looked more than serious and you couldn't deny that you liked this new facade of him.

"Why don't you show it to me then?" You didn't know where that line, or even that daring, had come from, but you didn't complain when Hyunjin's lips rested on yours for the second time that evening. The kiss was way more intense than the one you had shared earlier. Hotter and more eager. You gasped in surprise as Hyunjin grabbed you by the back of your thighs to lift you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. Your dress, which was already short, rose at this gesture, giving him easy access to your ass. Placing yourself on the bathroom counter, you were slightly disappointed when he pulled away from you, breaking your kiss. You looked at him with puppy eyes, as he turned around to close the bathroom door and lock it.

"Just making sure we won't be disturbed." He smirked, taking full notice of your desperate look. He wasted no time before stepping back between your legs, his lips joining yours for a warm kiss once again.

"Fuck, you don't know how many times I've fantasized about being like this with you since the last time." He whispered in admiration, as he kissed the path up to your neck, where he teasingly bit your soft spot which he found easily. You suppressed a small moan at his gesture, your fingers venturing into his long curls and pulling them gently. You could tell he liked it by the deep moan he made.

"You left me so hard when you ran away last time." He straightened up to look at you straight in the eyes, the sheer desire burning through his gaze making you feel in a certain way you could describe as sinful.

"I was afraid I had done something wrong when you pushed me away. I even felt bad for getting so excited after you teased me under the table in the presence of our parents." The tone of his voice clearly reflected nostalgia.

"But don't feel bad. I just panicked at the time." You smiled at him, passing a hand on his cheek to reassure him.

"And if I'm being honest, the situation got me excited too." You confessed shyly. Your revelation relaxed him slightly, but also boosted his confidence.

"Really?" He asked rhetorically, stroking your thighs with his fingertips. Your heart race increased as he rushed to drop hungry kisses down your collarbone, wasting no time slipping your sleeve, giving him a perfect access to the base of your breasts.

"Fuck.. Please..." You moaned, wiggling lightly against him, begging him for more, which made him smirk in satisfaction. You were as desperate for him as he was for you.

"My baby is so impatient. So sweet." He chuckled, visibly enjoying seeing you so hopeless for him to touch you intimately. It didn't take him long before he decided to finally slid his hand between your thighs, easily finding your clit, his fingers rubbing it so skillfully.

"I can already feel your wetness." He bit his lower lip, his dark eyes focusing on your face contracted with pleasure. You were so beautiful.

"Lay down." You were torn from your little cloud of pleasure again, when he removed his touch from your panties to remove it entirely, exposing your soaked pussy to him. You leaned back as he ordered, leaning back against the mirror behind you and opening your legs wide for him to give him an easy access to what he wanted the most right now. You knew seeing yourself so exposed and vulnerable just for him, hugely turned him on. The visible bulge on his crotch being the proof.

"You look so fucking good, baby." He said, licking his lips, obviously pleased pf the way you were already dripping just for him, when he barely touched you. Not breaking eye contact, he knelt between your legs, gripping your thighs to keep them firmly open, before languidly licking your cunt, stickinf his tongue inside of you. Your fingers found his hair again, gripping it tightly when Hyunjin suddenly began to suck on your sensitive swollen clit. You couldn't stop a few moans from escaping, even though you were trying the best you could to not to be too loud. Your hips subconsciously bucked against his face, forcing him to wrap his arms around your hips so that he could stabilize you moving too much. He intended to make you scream his name with pleasure and he wanted to do it the right way. You felt like you were losing your mind when the way he was eating you out changed, getting much more rougher and hungrier. He then suddenly slipped a finger, then a second, inside you, touching your weak spot with every pump and strock of his fingers.

"Hyunjin.. Too much.." You moaned, squirming more and more under his grip on you with each of his moves. Your thoughts were clouded with pleasure, dizzying your mind. You couldn't think properly anymore, only your orgasm, that you could feel was getting closer and closer, was the only thing you could think about. The tension, which you could feel building in your lower abdomen, exploded as Hyunjin once again eagerly wrapped his lips around your clit. Your eyes rolled back, as your orgasm washed you away, making you moan loudly in ecstasy. Seeing you come around his fingers and his mouth didn't make him stop his movements. You had to beg him to stop when it got too much for you to handle. His mouth and chin were almost dripping with your juice, giving his lips an delicious shine. You felt empty when his fingers slipped off you, but you ignored it, straightening up quickly and pulling him back into a sloppy kiss, where you clearly tasted yourself on his tongue. Your hands were hanging from the waistband of his pants, which you delicately untied during your erotic exchange. You desperately wanted to feel his cock, which you could feel was already hard enough, between your lips and at the very thought, you could feel your pussy getting wetter than before.

"My good girl is so desperate for my cock?" He whispered between your lips, the sudden nickname and the hand that came wrapping around your throat made you feel much more excited and eager for him. You moaned slightly in contentment at the pleasant feeling he made you feel just by his actions and presence. You went to answer him, but was cut off by what happened outside.

"5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Happy New Year!" The loud mixed voices of people still partying echoed throughout the house. At this understanding, you looked at each other for a few moments, before involuntarily bursting into laughter.

"New year, new girl, which means new resolutions. That's all I can say about it." He said, giving you a wink full of innuendos. Blushing, you couldn't hide the smile that crept onto your lips.

"I think it's the same for me then." You declared in admiration in your turn, matching his vibe.

"Good, because I have every intention of making up for the lost time." He whispered seductively. "In every sense of the word." His last words gave you shivers of anticipation. You knew you were in there for a long ride. After all, maybe the special connection you had as a kid hadn't changed at all.

[hualianff]

Untethered (Bonus II) 《Bonus I》

For the first time in his life, XL feels like he can speak without the pressures and expectations of being a prince weighing down on his shoulders. He watches his facial expressions in the mirror as he rambles about the various meetings he had for the day. The subtle dancing of his eyebrows, rapid blinking of his eyes, and pinched corners of his lips—all indicative of how animated he is when summarizing his duties that seemed more like work than anything else.

The fact that HC is here, brushing his hair, and listening with occasional intrigued hums make XL reinvigorated as his role as prince. Despite the demanding energy, control, and fairness the role takes, XL is incredibly grateful for the privilege and promises himself to continue to fulfill this purpose to the best of his abilities.

So far, XL believes he’s done a sufficient job, preparing to ascend to the throne. After hearing him speak, he secretly hopes HC thinks so too.

“Ah, San Lang, thank you for kindly tending to my hair. It looks wonderful,” XL says once he feels the final knots come undone by HC’s broad strokes.

“Of course it looks wonderful. It is His Highness, after all,” the pirate captain comments smoothly. XL can’t help but smile at the compliment.

HC goes to place the comb back on the vanity. He switches it out for a short ribbon that shimmers silver when hit by the moonlight.

“Allow me to do one more thing,” HC adds. He gathers all of XL’s hair to fall behind his shoulders, the strands still a bit damp. With practiced movements, HC parts the prince’s hair into three sections, then begins braiding the pieces into a thick, tight section.

XL licks his lips in anticipation. Though he’s had his hair styled a thousand times before, this is HC who currently braids his long locks, a gesture that seems a bit intimate.

Not that you mind, XL briefly thinks.

“How have the last few weeks treated San Lang?” He asks, reminding HC of his promise to talk about his days on the ocean. HC pulls the pieces of hair tighter, focused on creating a simple yet consistent and neat braided pattern for the prince.

“Troublesome. There’s a new pirate ship we have encountered several times. They said they want to challenge us for our water territories, which is a load of shit because the sea belongs to no one,” HC spits out heatedly. His tone is harsh but his touch is gentle as ever. “I honestly think the captain wants to mess with me. Make me question my reign as the ‘most feared, ruthless, and violent pirate to sail the waters.’”

“Oh. I see,” XL says hesitantly. He’s not very familiar with the inside knowledge of pirate ways and society other than what is generalized by the public. And the palace’s gossip, of course.

Suddenly, a rush of hot air tickles XL’s ear. XL locks eyes with HC through the mirror, heart stuttering at the dark, hungry look in the pirate’s eye.

“What does His Highness think?”

“Think about what?”

“My reputation. Does the real thing live up to your imagination?” HC questions with a sly smirk, quickly tying the ribbon at the end of the braid, then moving it to fall over XL’s right shoulder. XL only has a few seconds to marvel at the stunning handiwork before HC leans forward even more, urging XL to turn toward him, their faces mere centimeters apart.

The pirate captain smells like manly musk mixed in with the ocean breeze. XL nervously gulps.

“I- um,” XL starts, feeling his face heat up. “Hmm, maybe not entirely...”

HC’s eye slowly flits down XL’s face. XL remains still, mentally kicking himself for wondering what it would feel like to close the small gap and-

“Fair enough,” HC remarks, pulling away, leaving a rush of air in his wake. “I suppose I’m not the madman people say I am. After all, His Highness wouldn’t have let me into his room otherwise, no?”

Something hot burns inside XL’s gut. He had to let HC in! If the pirate were discovered by the palace guards, he’d be imprisoned indefinitely for sure! XL was simply doing an act of service for HC...nothing too outrageous like HC implied.

Nope, none at all.

“You’re blushing.“

“San Lang better take a good look around lest this is the only time I invite him into my room,” XL huffs out, resolutely facing forward and avoiding HC’s penetrating gaze.

“Forgive me, Your Highness. I was simply teasing,” HC says, though he doesn’t sound all that apologetic. “A prince like you must have many admirers to choose from. I shall not take this privilege for granted.”

“Admirers? Where on Earth did you get that from?” XL asks, appalled. He hasn’t taken interest in any of the brides his father provided, much less traveled to other kingdoms in a serious pursuit to find one to marry.

“Is there not a ball happening this coming week? For you to choose a suitable woman to become your queen?” HC inquiries nonchalantly. He tucks a rogue curl behind XL’s ear, the prince subtly leaning into the touch.

XL whips around in astonishment, braid flying to his other shoulder.

“How did you know!?”

“I have ears on land, my prince. Even when I’m out sailing the sea,” HC says. “We have also passed numerous royal ships carrying your guests for the celebration.”

XL wilts in his seat.

It’s not much of a celebration if XL hadn’t wanted to host an engagement ball in the first place. Years of his father’s insistent pushing have led to more frequent gatherings with other royalty in hopes that XL finds a fiancé.

Unlike his parents, XL wasn’t betrothed from a young age. Furthermore, he hasn’t expressed  any interest in marriage even once becoming an adult.

(“Your mother and I were married at twenty. You, my son, are already twenty-two,” the king always said. “You should quickly find a princess who catches your eye. The sooner you get yourself a wife, the sooner she will start learning her duties as queen.”)

XL has successfully put off marriage for a couple of years, deferring to his rigorous training schedule and duties as prince as an excuse. Fortunately, his mother is willing to let XL take his time, as the king isn’t set to retire anytime soon. After all, XL learning his responsibilities as king is the most important task.

HC instantly notices XL’s deflated expression. He attempts to backpedal.

“I had no right to bring that up. If this is something Gege does not want to discuss, then, by all means, he may change the subject,” HC says quietly. Respectfully.

“No. It is fine. It is by no means a secret at all. The ball has been scheduled for weeks now,” XL murmurs while looking at his bare feet. He fiddles with the long braid, smoothing over the tightly wrapped strands absent-mindedly. “I’m not actively looking for a wife or anything. At least, I don’t want to...”

“Your Highness-“

“San Lang.”

HC’s mouth snaps shut. He straightens his back with his shoulders set square, standing at attention in front of the Prince of Xianle.

“Could you do something for me? A small favor, if you will.”

“Anything,” HC immediately answers.

XL subconsciously chews on his lower lip, a habit that his closest friend SQX reprimands him for doing because it tears up both the old and healing skin. Easy to overdo, not a quick fix, SQX claims.

XL rises to his feet. He holds his hand out to the pirate, palm facing upwards.

Where’s My Love – SYML

“Will you dance with me?”

“I’m afraid gege will be sorely disappointed with this one’s lack of skill,” HC says as a matter-of-fact, but he doesn’t hesitate to accept XL’s hand, his long fingers blanketing XL’s own.

The prince’s heart skips a beat as the pirate pulls him close until their chests almost touch. XL feels small; HC’s heeled boots to XL’s bare feet exaggerate their height difference, XL only coming up to HC’s chest.

XL feels small but strangely, he wouldn’t want it any other way.

“San Lang needs only to follow my lead,” XL says, looking up with a smile. He properly intertwines their left and right hands, then places HC’s other hand on his shoulder. Finally, XL goes to hold the pirate’s waist, the thin fabric giving way to the hard muscle underneath.

“Gege must have danced with a lot of pretty women before,” HC muses, moving his feet as XL slowly guides him into a waltz. XL hopes it isn’t just him imagining a slow, romantic piece to harmonize their movements.

“Is San Lang jealous?” XL asks without thinking.

Goodness, did those words seriously just come out of his mouth? Other than his eyes widening in slight horror, XL schools his face into a calm expression, not wanting to seem conceited or even desperate.

HC peers down with a lazy smirk, almost crowding into the prince as they turn to dance in a circle. Despite XL’s effort to appear unfazed by the prospect of HC envying those who’ve had the opportunity to dance with the Prince of Xianle, the pirate still catches the hopeful flicker of XL’s eyelashes.

“A little bit. Though in a way, I’ve had my fair share of dances with Gege myself,” HC states proudly, referring back to their previous sparring sessions. The break in focus has HC stumbling over his feet, prompting XL to squeeze his waist as a reprimand to concentrate.

“Ah, yes. San Lang’s skill is undeniable in that aspect,” XL says, laughing. “He’s also the first and only man I’ve danced ever with.”

“What an honor,” HC purrs out, and then he lowers XL into an abrupt dip, holding the prince by his hip and upper back.

XL’s breath hitches, wondering how they seamlessly switched positions. HC tenderly stares down at the prince, a twinkle dimly reflecting in his left eye.

“San Lang...” XL whispers, clutching onto HC’s shoulders. His long braid feels heavy like rope where it hangs down, nearly touching the ground.

“Your Highness.”

Their faces are millimeters apart, skimming each other’s noses. They’ve never been this close before, especially not in the absence of any sort of weapon. No one besides the king and queen, palace servants, and bodyguards are even allowed to touch the prince.

Now here he is, in the arms of the infamous Crimson Rain, on the verge of letting himself want.

Tentatively, XL licks his lips before asking, “Why do you always come back?”

“Gege knows this answer too,” HC solemnly says.

XL tilts his chin up, eyelids starting to lower.

“I come back for you, my dear Prince.”

As HC leans down—still supporting XL’s weight—XL meets him halfway for their first proper kiss, alone together in the prince’s room where the pale moonlight spills through the balcony doors. It’s a light and airy peck, one that ends way too soon for XL’s liking.

When they pull apart, HC stands XL back up. The pirate notices XL’s robe has slid off one shoulder. He goes to pull it back up but XL quickly grasps his jaw for another kiss instead.

They part again.

“Just...one more-“ XL breathes out, adrenaline coursing through his veins. HC’s lips are warm and firm, easily pliable as they press deliciously against XL’s own. “...one more.”

HC gladly obliges.

Their kisses gradually pick up in pace, HC’s hands respectively exploring the span of XL’s back, his hips, and sides. XL eagerly pulls HC over to the edge of his bed, spinning them around so he can climb onto the pirate’s lap.

HC groans low in his throat, comfortably looping his arms around XL’s waist.

At this point, all of XL’s reservations have been cast aside and he’s going to act on the desires concerning a certain pirate that have been taunting him for months now, damn it.

XL surges forward with a force that knocks HC back against the soft mattress.

“Your Highness,” HC growls between kisses, still trying to cover up XL’s shoulder, and now his chest where the robe is loose enough to reveal noticeable cleavage. XL shifts a bit to align their hips, unintentionally rubbing against HC. “Shit-“

“Hua Cheng-“ XL hums, belatedly realizing his slip up. HC nips at his lip for his mistake.

“San L-lang,” XL mewls like the starved for affection prince that he is. HC’s tongue darts out to swipe across XL’s upper lip. Then, his lower lip.

XL naturally opens up for him, gasping as HC’s hot tongue licks inside his mouth with a dominance that consumes XL. The more XL lets his lust cloud his movement, the faster he feels himself harden.

When XL’s hands brush along HC’s hair, they accidentally graze onto his eyepatch. HC grunts in surprise, which has XL springing back as the situation of the last five minutes dawns upon him.

He sits up on HC’s thighs, placing his palms on the pirate’s chest. Underneath him, HC is a gorgeous vision–thick, wavy hair splayed out on XL’s pillow, lips swollen and spit-slicked.

“Oh my- oh my lord,” XL chokes out, completely breathless. “Was- was that t-too much?”

“Not at all, Your Highness,” HC replies with a rogue-ish smirk. “Come here.”

HC embraces his prince with long arms, squeezing tightly and pressing a series of kisses to the top of XL’s head. XL hesitantly rests his cheek on HC’s sternum, aware of how close their bodies are pressed together.

“Who knew Gege could kiss like that?”

“Like what?” XL questions petulantly.

“Like a shameless minx,” the pirate captain answers, chuckling when XL whines at the implication.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” XL shyly admits.

“Me too,” HC murmurs. XL lifts his head, crosses his arms on HC’s chest, then sets his chin on them. “Since the moment I saw you sitting alone at the pub.”

“You wanted to kiss the crown prince at first sight?” XL asks, pretending to be scandalized. HC kisses the tip of XL’s nose. XL scrunches it up in response.

“Hmm, my prince now.”

“Well, your prince would very much like it if San Lang stays the night.”

“I must be back at the harbor before dawn,” HC says, stroking XL’s hair. “However, I can most certainly afford to accompany Gege while he sleeps.”

XL happily snuggles close to HC, not worrying quite so much about the ball now that he has something going on with HC. To his astonishment, the pirate seems to return his affections quite enthusiastically. As a prince with the duty to serve his people, XL reckons he deserves this moment of happiness.

After another hour of blissful exchanging kisses and aimless conversation, XL feels himself begin to drift. He hears a whispered promise from HC who protectively curls around him.

“I will never bring you harm, Your Highness. Your heart is safe with me.”

XL falls asleep into a dreamless slumber.

***

Present...

As if it happens in slow motion, XL swings the sword with all the power he possesses. HC’s arms stretch open in vulnerability, lips forming into a small, understanding smile.

“Gege.”

Something inside XL shatters. The familiar term of endearment is for XL’s ears only. His heart pounds against his rib cage with the ferocity of an imprisoned soul, screaming at XL to ask not what he would wish for in death, but what is he willing to live for?

The answer is right in front of him.

“I’m back.”

Three things happen at once.

A deafening BOOM fires at the royal ship from the opposite direction, pitch-black flags with the symbolic skeleton of a fish piercing through the chilly air.

Simultaneously, a blinding flash of lightning strikes across the sky, signaling an even more intense downpour of rain that obscures everyone’s vision. Surprised screams echo somewhat mutely among the roaring winds.

Lastly, XL swings his sword so it barely skims the open blouse HC wears and keeps rotating until it crosses behind him, where he lets it go flying back to the royal ship.

At that moment, XL leaps forward into HC’s embrace, where those long arms encircle his waist, and both men are sent tumbling down into the crashing waves of the raging ocean.

《VI》

[staysaneathome]

This Was Not A Dare, Reigen

Jon glares at each of the— the suspects traitors in front of him, tape recorder clutched tight in one hand.

Martin, wringing his hands uselessly, eyes wide and beseeching. Tim, fists clenched hard enough for his knuckles to go white and returning his gaze with a death stare of his own. Sasha, arms folded to form a barrier between Jon and herself, expression a perfect mask of concern. Reigen, radiating disappointment in every one of his gestures and quips. Elias, eyes weary, fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Some intervention this is turning out to be.

Jon wants to scream. Wants to reach out and shake someone, anyone, until they admit he’s making sense and it’s the rest of the world that’s gone mad.

Every single one of them (except Martin) could’ve killed Gertrude. He knows he has no proof that they did, but he has no proof that they didn’t either, can’t they see that? If they don’t want him to suspect them, it should be easy for them to actually give him proof of their innocence (like Martin did), instead of just repeating platitudes of “you know this isn’t acceptable adult behavior, Jon” and “you’re better than this, Jon”.

Who cares about knowing better or acceptable behavior when it’s your very life on the line? He’s half tempted to throttle the con artist, see how dignified or adult he is when he’s the one with a murderer on his tail!

…Not that Jon is a murderer. It’s just the principle of the thing, is all.

“Jon,” Elias says, tone soothing in all the ways he doesn’t want it to be. “This is absurd. This goes far beyond an unhealthy work environment. I’ll admit it’s partly my fault for letting it get this bad, I should have intervened earlier.”

Reigen cuts in with a hand gesture that is as effusive as it is dismissive. “That doesn’t make his behavior okay, Bouchard-san. It may be bad here, but Jon chose to follow me, Tim and Sasha, and yell at Martin, rather than going to the police or paying a detective, like Herlock Sholmes or something.”

Jon sputters. “Wh- It’s Sherlock Holmes, not—and he’s fictional!”

Reigen blinks sleepily, one eyebrow raised. “Oh? That doesn’t sound right. Are you sure?”

“Yes!” Jon all but shouts, rapidly reconsidering his stance on braining the sardonic little git with his tape recorder. “Don’t you even—an-and you’re deflecting again! Just like with your ridiculous ‘haunted gun’ nonsense!”

“I’m not!” Reigen says, clearly deflecting. “I’ve seen this kind of thing loads of times as the number one psychic. When a weapon kills lots of people over 100 years, the bad energy gets bigger and bigger until the gun grows an evil spirit and is hungry—”

“I refuse to believe Gertrude Robinson was murdered by a sentient blunderbuss!!”

“Be that as it may,” Elias interrupts, shooting them both a stern frown. “This is exactly the kind of thing I was talking about, Jon. Given how badly it’s affected your work ethic, I will be taking direct action to ensure it does not continue.”

Jon can feel his shoulders hunch almost against his will, dread pooling in his stomach at the thought of whatever punishment is about to be unjustly inflicted on him.

Only Martin looks half as worried as he feels, glancing between him and Elias nervously. By contrast, Tim looks downright triumphant, smirk nasty and vindictive. Sasha’s somewhere between those two, not openly celebrating his soon-to-be-downfall, but not acting like she’d lift a finger on his behalf either, though he’s unsure why that feels like it should surprise him. She’s always been as neutral as Switzerland.

Reigen, oddly enough, has more in common with Martin than with Tim. He’s staring at Elias like he’s waiting for a bit of news he knows he won’t like.

Jon thinks he’d appreciate that more if he wasn’t about to be unfairly lambasted simply for trying to stop a murderer and bring justice for an old woman who probably died frightened and alone. Much like Jon probably will once he’s been hobbled by whatever Elias is about to say next.

“Such as by restricting access to the archives from members of the public who are ultimately doing you more harm than good.”

…Wait.

What?

“What?!” Tim, Martin, and Sasha echo.

Reigen glances between them all, blinking in confusion.

Jon shares the sentiment entirely. His punishment is…for someone else to be removed from the archives? Someone he doesn’t employ or even like that much, no less?

He must have misheard, surely.

Though maybe not, given how Tim looks aghast, glancing between Elias and Reigen. “Okay, no, Reigen’s clearly not the problem here—”

“I’m very sorry, Tim, but Jon has made several remarks about the disruptive nature of Mr. Arataka’s presence in the archives.” Elias sighs. “From the arguments like the one we just witnessed to the nonsensical purchases of oddities inspired by his presence, such as Duolingo subscriptions,” Meaningful glare at Jon who resists the urge to clutch his phone guiltily, “That are now billed on the Archives’ expenses, it unfortunately seems as though he is dragging down productivity for all of you as an active stressor.”

“But we’re much better equipped to take statements from people who don’t speak English because of that!” Martin protests, stepping forward. “Isn’t it an advantage to have a more, more international perspective for our work?”

“One positive in a sea of negatives does not an advantage make.” Elias says, sounding infuriatingly like he’s misquoting something. “And really Martin, how realistic is it that this would help in more than a few isolated cases? I expected better from you.”

Martin’s face crumples, and his shoulders hunch, making himself smaller.

Jon finds his own mouth opening to—what? Say something? What would he even say?

Luckily, Sasha intervenes before he can dig his own grave further. “That’s as may be, but he’s a wonder for morale. He and Jon are funny, not anything serious, and I don’t think we’d have come to you about Jon‘s behavior unless he encouraged us to—”

“Which only fits into the delusion where Jon feels an outsider is rallying his subordinates against him, which is not good for his paranoid outlook.” Elias replies calmly. “And it’s never a healthy work environment when one employee feels the others are making them the butt of a joke.”

“I’d say that’s not as bad as when the boss feels he has the right to violate everyone’s privacy whenever he wants to just ’cause he’s feeling sad!” Tim growls.

Elias begins to answer, before Reigen finally speaks up.

“Sorry,” The con artist says carefully. “But you are…«I know this one…» banning me from the Archives? Yes?”

“That is the long and short of it, yes.” Elias says, grudgingly

“Why?” Reigen challenges, eyes hard and searching. “What have I, personally, done that’s wrong here? What behavior do I need to correct?”

There’s a moment of silence. The whirring of the tape recorder sounds uncomfortably loud.

“Mr. Arataka, are you currently under the employ of the Magnus Institute?” Elias asks, brow furrowed.

“Ah, no, no, but—”

“Are you looking to become employed by the Institute at this point in time, as a prospective member of the Archival Staff?” He fires off rapidly.

“Su-Sorry, but if you could just go a little slower—”

“Then I am afraid that unless you’re looking to fill out an employment contract or a Statement form, we cannot help you, Mr. Arataka.” Elias spreads his hands wide. “We are an academic institution, a place of research and learning. The Institute cannot allow for social dalliances on company time, especially not when those visits are negatively contributing to the work environment and the wellbeing of our staff.”

Tim throws up his hands, “I-I cannot believe this!”

Reigen’s mouth works soundlessly for a moment.

“Arataka is my…what do you call it? First name?” He says, at last. “Using it in this context is…inappropriate. Please call me Reigen, if you would, Bouchard-san.”

“Of course. My mistake, Mr. Reigen.” Elias does have the decency to look somewhat abashed. “Though, regrettably, I am going to have to ask you to leave the premises within the next twenty minutes, or I will be forced to call security.”

Reigen nods, jerkily, hands stuffed in his pockets.

Jon almost wants to call out to the fraud as he turns to go, grab him by the shoulder, pick another argument, something. He knows he should be happy, be glad that this thorn in his side will finally stop bothering him, but instead he just feels—befuddled. Off-kilter.

What happened to the man who once spent three hours arguing for the “spiritual effectiveness” of entirely performative and useless rituals, saying that ensuring his clients left his office fooled and contented was better than actually uncovering genuine supernatural forces and learning all there was to know about them? Why is he going so-so easily now, when he’s made Jon fight tooth and nail in every debate he’s had with the so-called psychic?

At the door, the con man pauses.

“Bouchard-san. You said I could come back if I had a statement to give?”

Elias shifts in his seat, looking bemused. “W-well, yes. That is a service we do provide. Of course, the statement would have to be genuine, and verifiable as such before we let you back into the Archives.”

“We don’t even do that for most of the rubbish we do take,” Tim mutters under his breath, and though Jon is glad he’s not the one being shot a quelling look, he does have to agree.

The con man turns back.

He’s got that smirk on his face that immediately puts Jon’s hackles up on instinct, prepared to argue against whatever inane point he’s come up with now to defend his phony psychic title.

“Gotcha.” Reigen says, far too cheerfully. «Ja ne.»

Then he strolls out of the office, as cool as a cucumber.

Jon could even swear he hears him whistling as he makes his way down the stairs.

There’s a moment of stunned silence.

“I’d do him.” Sasha pipes up, unhelpfully.

“Sasha!” Martin hisses, scandalized. “D-don’t you have a, a—”

“Oh, I don’t have to worry about that.” She remarks, far too blasé for someone in a newly committed relationship. “Tom’s heard about him too, and he agreed he’s just our type.”

“And I’m not?” Tim jokes, but there’s a hard edge to it that Jon’s found himself increasingly familiar with in the past few weeks.

Sasha shrugs with a mischievous little smile, as if that mattered very little to her.

Elias coughs. “Right. Well. Whatever your relations to Mr. Reigen are, please try to limit them to outside the workplace in future.”

The rest of the intervention is surprisingly subdued. Elias gives Jon access to the footage from the cameras in the rest of the Institute, and Tim bodychecks him on the way out of the office, muttering about how nice it must be to never face any consequences for his actions. Sasha follows, the way she won’t meet his eyes a condemnation in its own right.

Even Martin doesn’t say anything to him, just bites his lip and hurries past back down to the Archives. It doesn’t sting. It doesn’t.

Even as he settles in to watch and rewatch the CCTV records of Gertrude’s last week alive, Jon can’t shake the ridiculous feeling of foreboding that’s dogged him since Reigen left.

Most of him wants to say it comes from the fact that despite the fact that Reigen has not appeared in any of the camera records for the Magnus Institute before he started his term as Head Archivist in 2016, isn’t banning him from the Archives just letting the con man run around London with impunity, with no way for Jon to ascertain his movements or motives? That instead of solving a problem, Elias has just given a potential murderer free reign to escape?

But a small part of Jon, one that never could deny the sensation of being watched, that is frozen in second-hand terror whenever he reads a Statement, knows, Knows that it this stems more from the idea that the fraud will actually accomplish what Elias has unwittingly challenged him to do.

The illogical but pervasive surety that he will do so.

Jon’s not sure if he’s more afraid that Reigen Arataka will vanish entirely, another unfortunate victim become an unsolved mystery.

Or that he’ll come back, and bring whatever he’s managed to unearth on his insane quest with him.

[lassostark]

So yeah, I got carried away. As usual. *facepalm* Anyway, Happy Birthday, Wolfie @jaskierswolf!!! I hope you enjoy reading this long-ass fic, lovely. 😀💙 

(Edited) Word Count: 9k (I have a problem, I know)

Relationship: Geralt/Jaskier

Tags: AU: College/University, Professor!Jaskier, Professor!Geralt, Soulmates, Rated M for Language, Jaskier!Whump, Miscommunication, Enemies to Lovers (ish, can’t find the right tag sorry), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending

Read on AO3 here

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The Other Half

“Do I have a class to teach here or are all of you going to be focused on your phones?”

Jaskier is standing in front of his desk, hands on his hips as he gives his Creative Writing class students a stern look. Several of them look up from their phones with guilty expressions, and if Jaskier wasn’t in the middle of a lecture about storytelling in poetry, he would’ve laughed at their almost identical expressions.

“Sorry, Professor,” Rebecca, one of his favorite students, says. Jaskier raises an eyebrow at her, and the brunette blushes faintly as she reluctantly turns off her phone.

“Care to share what has everyone’s attention glued to their phones instead of me?” Jaskier smirks, injecting a bit of humor into his query. He notes how half of his students chuckle as others follow Rebecca’s lead in turning off their phones.

“It’s Sole Mate, sir,” a student from the back answers.

Jaskier frowns slightly. “Soulmate? Did another celebrity couple split up because they met their other half?”

There’s a ripple of laughter in the classroom while others shake their head. Thankfully, it’s Rebecca who gives him a proper answer.

“Er, no, sir,” she begins. “Sole Mate. The new app that’s been circulating lately? Everyone said it’s loads better than Tinder because instead of just random hook-ups -- um, I mean dates -- Sole Mate allows you to find your, well, soulmate.”

By the end of her explanation, Jaskier’s eyebrows are nearly reaching his hairline. He’s no stranger to social media and technology, so Jaskier knows what Rebecca is talking about. In fact, he’s noticed that aside from the students in the campus, he’s heard his fellow colleagues talking about it every now and then. Which is odd, to be honest, because for one, professors like Jaskier aren’t really that open about the whole soulmate thing. It’s not a taboo, per se, but more like a personal thing because not everyone has met their soulmate yet.

So while he’s aware that people are talking about the topic, Jaskier didn’t think that it was this big of a deal.

“I… see.” Jaskier nods, giving himself a few extra seconds to come up with a follow-up question. He coughs lightly before clearing his throat. “I’ve heard about that app, but I’m afraid I’m not familiar with its algorithm. What makes it so special, hm?”

Another student, Marcus, raises his ring-laden hand in the air. Jaskier gestures for him to speak.

“Well, sir, Sole Mate gives you the option to upload a photo of your soulmark. The photo is never made public, of course, but rather it’s an added feature that’ll help the app. Once it’s in the system, Sole Mate narrows down the scope of the search to people who have a similar look to your mark. It’s broken into groups which the app refers to as Sole Groups. Then you just chat with the people who are in those groups that meet the criteria until you meet the one whose mark matches yours.”

“I read an article from CNN yesterday,” Arif pipes in. “Since the app launched three months ago, there’s been a 95% increase of people finding their soulmates compared to the last ten years. And just yesterday, I found out my great-aunt found her match!”

“I’m going on a date tonight and I think they’re my match!”

Jaskier looks on in befuddlement as his students start to whisper excitedly to one another about the prospect of meeting their soulmate. He blinks and shakes his head before calling their attention once more.

“Alright, alright!” Jaskier calls over their chattering. “Enough now, please. Midterms are a month from now and we still have much ground to cover.”

“How about you, sir? Have you found your Sole Group yet?”

Jaskier hides his amusement at how eager his students look at him. Instead, he shakes his head and smirks at them as he moves around his desk to pick up his chalk.

“No, Damian,” he says mildly. “I don’t see a need for me to do so.”

“But why not?” Rebecca asks, sounding both curious and confused. “Don’t you want to meet your soulmate, sir?”

Fortunate that he’s facing the blackboard so his students can’t see his conflicted expression, Jaskier writes a few notes on the board as he flippantly replies, “I’m happy on my own and don’t see myself settling down, Ms. Haywood.” Before his students can pry further, he adds in a sterner tone, “Now, please pay attention to the lecture because there will be a quiz before the end of this class.”

There’s a collective groan behind him which Jaskier happily ignores as he launches into his lecture once more.

~

“‘I’m happy on my own and don’t see myself settling down’?” Essi repeats to Jaskier later when they’re on their lunch break. “That’s a load of bollocks, love.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes as he pops a grape in his mouth.

“Obviously,” he says after swallowing his food. “My students don’t need to know I already met my soulmate, Essi.”

“I know that,” Essi replies. “And I respect your privacy for saying that. But you don’t have to pretend with me, you know.”

“What the hell are you on about now?”

“I mean that you don’t have to lie to yourself, Jask.”

“I’m not lying!”

Essi scoffs at him. “Oh, please. We’ve known each other for nearly ten years. I know when you’re lying, Jask. You do that thing with your lips; it’s subtle but don’t think I didn’t see it earlier.”

Jaskier scowls at his friend, who’s one of the best and strictest Marketing professors in Redania University. So instead of replying, he decides to take a huge bite out of his ham and egg sandwich.

She’s lucky I love her, Jaskier thinks moodily.

“Still haven’t spoken to him?” Essi asks him after several minutes of comfortable silence pass.

‘Him’ being Jaskier’s soulmate, obviously.

He shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Are you ever going to speak to him?”

“Once he has his head out of his arse, maybe I’ll contemplate breathing the same air as him.”

Essi whistles low. “Damn, was the confrontation really that bad, Jask?”

Jaskier pointedly stares at her.

“Essi, darling, I’ve told you about it a hundred times in various states of inebriation and sobriety. Of course it was bad. It was horrendous for both parties.”

And honestly, Jaskier doesn’t want to talk about it. Hell, he doesn’t even want to think about it because every time he does, he feels nothing but disappointment and anger and hurt. Goddamn it, it’s been three years and it still fucking hurts. It’s a constant phantom pain in his chest that Jaskier doesn’t know what to do with, and he’s been living with that kind of pain for years with no hopes for resolution in sight.

He thinks of that day, the confrontation as Essi puts it, and all Jaskier can think of are golden eyes filled with apathy. An inscrutable expression on his soulmate’s chiseled features after Jaskier told him that they’re meant to be together.

Well, Jaskier didn’t say it like that, exactly, because he was nervous. He was rambling and sweating in places he didn’t know he could sweat, and he had just met his soulmate for fuck’s sake!

Alas, like the idealist he is, his expectations didn’t meet his reality.

“Oh shit,” Essi suddenly says, breaking Jaskier from his glum thoughts. “Don’t look. Your three o’clock.”

Because Jaskier has an issue with impulse control, he looks.

And he freezes.

There, dressed in tight-fitting grey slacks and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, is Jaskier’s soulmate.

Geralt Rivia.

His hair is fixed into a man bun, and Jaskier feels his chest constrict at the wisps of silver hair framing his jawline. Geralt hasn’t seen them, thankfully, because he’s busy chatting with Yennefer Vengerberg, the gorgeous yet cutthroat International Relations professor who’s notorious for failing 40% of her students.

Jaskier is about to look away when Geralt turns his head and meets his eyes.

Fuck.

He notes the deep furrow between Geralt’s brows, the Anthropology professor’s hold on his lunch tray tightening when their gazes meet across the room. As much as Jaskier talks about being alright on his own, he can’t help but secretly admit to himself that he likes the shiver of pleasure that runs down his spine when their eyes meet. Jaskier read somewhere that researchers called it The Spark. It’s cheesy, yes, but it’s exactly that. An electrifying feeling shared between two halves of a whole finding each other.

Then reality comes crashing down and Jaskier remembers what Geralt told him that day and he thinks: Fuck this.

Appetite gone, Jaskier clears his throat and looks away. He deliberately ignores Essi’s sympathetic gaze as he packs up the rest of his uneaten food. He stands up and slings his shoulder bag before daring to look at his friend.

“I just remembered I have papers to grade. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Essi nods her head. Jaskier doesn’t wait for a reply and turns to make his escape, but not before he catches Geralt still staring at him.

For the life of him, Jaskier is still unable to read the man’s facial expressions. It’s just so… inscrutable. Like staring into a slab of brick wall with no hopes of breaking through it. Jaskier doesn’t know why he still finds himself caring at this point.

Who is he kidding? He’s always cared.

“Professor Pankratz.”

Jaskier averts his eyes from Geralt to meet Yennefer’s violet eyes, a smirk on her ruby lips. They’re not close, and though he finds the woman equally terrifying and beautiful, Jaskier can’t help but be a little fond of her.

“Professor Vengerberg,” he acknowledges her haughty look with a faint smile.

From his peripheral gaze, Geralt looks like he’s opening his mouth to address him. But Jaskier thinks it’s probably a trick of the light, so he walks away and forces himself not to look back.

No matter how painful it is. No matter how his soulmark feels like it’s going to burn a hole through his shirt.

~

3 years ago

“Is that the new Anthropology professor?” Essi whispers to Jaskier excitedly.

Jaskier gazes across the spacious meeting room to find the person his friend is referring to. It’s about damn time the university hired someone to replace Mousesack. The elderly scholar looked like ready to drop if he stayed for another semester.

“I don’t see-- oh.”

Oh, indeed. Jaskier shamelessly eyes the silver-haired Adonis dressed in grey slacks and a tight-fitting dress shirt. He notes with mild amusement how the newcomer looks a little awkward standing beside the drinks table, drink in hand as he silently eyes his surroundings with a guarded expression.

“Oh, he’s gorgeous,” Jaskier says under his breath.

“The hair isn’t doing it for me, but yeah he’s gorgeous,” Essi agrees with a hum.

“I’m gonna introduce myself. Be right back.”

Jaskier doesn’t wait for Essi’s response as he quickly crosses the room to approach the brooding man. Like a lone wolf eyeing his prey, he thinks with an inward chuckle.

“Hello, there,” Jaskier greets the man with a friendly smile once he’s standing a respectable distance from him. He quickly takes note of their height difference. Well, more like a lack of it as Jaskier surmises the burly man is only an inch or two taller than him. “You must be the new Anthropology professor. I’m Julian Pankratz, but everyone here calls me Jaskier. I teach Introduction to Creative Writing and Advanced Creative Writing.”

Jaskier feels his smile start to falter as the silver-haired Adonis initially doesn’t accept his handshake. He’s about to bring down his arm when he feels a warm, calloused hand curl around his.

That’s when he feels it: the spark. Jaskier is unable to hide a gasp when he feels an electrifying feeling trail down his spine. He blinks owlishly at the other man who looks just as shocked as him.

“Geralt Rivia,” the man introduces himself after a few seconds of awkward silence pass. Jaskier feels another shiver down his spine upon hearing the low, growly voice.

“N-nice to meet you, Geralt.”

“Hmm.”

Instead of feeling annoyed, Jaskier feels endeared at the non-verbal reply. He finds his gaze falling on their clasped hands, and he’s about to let go when something catches his eye and he freezes on the spot.

Geralt has his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, so Jaskier can see the veins and light dusting of hair on his arm. But that’s not what he’s focusing on, no. He finds himself drawn to Geralt’s forearm, where a familiar-looking mark resides. A mark that Jaskier can draw in his sleep because he bears the same mark since he was born.

Holy shit, Jaskier thinks as he looks up to meet Geralt’s puzzled frown with a slackened expression. I just met my soulmate.

~

Present day

“Hang on, you bloody cat,” Jaskier grumbles under his breath as he enters his one-bedroom apartment later that evening. Mister Fuzzball meows and curls his orange tail around his calf while Jaskier locks the door. “Yes, yes, you will get your meal in a bit. Just let me put down my bag, darling.”

Mister Fuzzball meows again as the tabby cat trails after him.

Jaskier goes through the motions of his nighttime routine like clockwork. Change into his home clothes, feed Mister Fuzzball, prepare his own dinner, and then eat his dinner on the couch while watching a rerun episode of The Office.

Afterwards, he leaves the dirty dishes on the sink to sit on the small dining table to grade more papers. He works silently for a couple of hours while nursing a glass of wine, and when Jaskier finds that he can no longer find the energy to constructively criticize his students’ writing, he turns in for the night. He cuddles Mister Fuzzball for a few minutes before going to the loo to brush his teeth and do his extensive skincare routine.

By eleven o’clock, Jaskier is in bed with the lights turned off. He lets out a sigh as he stares aimlessly at his ceiling and wonders how his life has come to this. Just going through the motions of a routine well-established whilst trying his best to ignore the ache in his chest.

Lost in his thoughts, Jaskier finds himself stroking his left collarbone, tracing the lines that are slightly raised as he hums a nameless tune under his breath.

Rebirth. That’s what his soulmark symbolizes. But all Jaskier feels these days is the opposite.

He doesn’t fall asleep until the early hours of the morning.

~

“- so I told mum that I’ll spend Christmas with them and then go to Scotland for New Year’s with Edmund. What about you?”

Belatedly, Jaskier notices the silence has stretched on, so he looks up from staring at the painting of Philippa Eilhart to meet Essi’s worried gaze.

“Sorry, what?”

“Are you alright, Jask?” Essi asks. “You don’t look too well, love.”

Jaskier bats off her hands as his friend tries to feel his forehead for a fever.

“I’m fine, Essi. Just tired.”

“Not sleeping well?”

He shakes his head. He can’t explain it, but he’s feeling more lethargic than usual.

“No, I’m sleeping fine. I’m just tired, s’all.”

Essi doesn’t look convinced, so Jaskier musters what strength he has left to smile at her.

“I’m fine, mother. There’s no need to get your knickers in a twist.”

“If you say so, Jask,” Essi replies with an eye roll. Then teasingly, she adds, “Better apply concealer, though. I can see your bags from here.”

Jaskier gasps and tosses the crumpled wrapper of his sandwich at her.

~

3 years ago

“Geralt! Hey, hi. Do you have a minute?”

Jaskier smiles nervously at the hot Anthropology professor who is about to exit the break room. Geralt turns to look at Jaskier with a puzzled frown before he grunts and nods his head. Relieved, Jaskier tilts his head and gestures for the other man to follow him to a somewhat secluded corner of the room. Although standing beside the painting of Philippa Eilhart, one of the founders of Redania University, isn’t such a good idea. But Jaskier is out of good ideas at this point because he’s nearly bursting at the seams to do something he’s been meaning to do for the past three months since he met Geralt Rivia.

“What did you want to talk about?” Geralt asks him, looking curiously at Jaskier now.

Jaskier clears his throat and wipes his sweaty palms on his slim corduroy pants as he works up the nerve to just… do it.

“Yes, um, so,” he begins eloquently. Oh gods, this was easier in his head. “So we’ve known each for a few months now and I like to think we’ve reached a certain understanding of one another. One might, er, even say that we’re casual friends at this point.”

Geralt blinks at him but doesn’t say anything. If Jaskier looks closely, which he is, he thinks there’s something akin to amusement dancing in the other man’s golden eyes. Could be a trick of the light, but Jaskier has high hopes.

“Geralt, um,” Jaskier continues. He tries his best to ignore the butterflies fluttering in his belly as he focuses on what he’s going to say next. “I don’t know how to say this, exactly, because it’s never happened to me before. But, um. Well, the university is singing your praise and you’re an unexpected hit with the students. No surprise there, if you ask me, you’re an incredibly beautiful man and, oh god.”

“You’re rambling,” Geralt notes with a slight upwards quirk of his mouth.

Jaskier scratches the back of his head. “Yes, I’m well aware, thank you.”

Geralt snorts, looking amused now.

“Just spit it out, Jask,” he says not unkindly.

And, well. That ought to do the trick.

“We’re soulmates,” Jaskier blurts out. He doesn’t notice Geralt stiffen, too preoccupied with getting the words out now that he’s finally said it. “And before you say anything, I saw your mark. On the first day we met - well, I introduced myself. We shook hands and you had sleeves rolled up to your elbows, and that’s when I noticed the mark etched on your forearm.” When Geralt doesn’t say anything, Jaskier hurriedly adds, “I have the same mark, you see. Right here.”

Then and there, Jaskier unbuttons his white dress shirt and yanks the collar of his undershirt down to show Geralt the same dandelion tattoo across his left collarbone.

Seconds, and then minutes, pass by and Geralt remains stoic, an unreadable expression on his chiseled features. Jaskier’s smile falters as he self-consciously buttons up his shirt once more, feeling naked and seen under the stoic gaze of his colleague.

“Geralt? What, um. Please say something.”

It takes several seconds before Geralt reacts. The older man breathes in deep through his nose and slowly exhales through his mouth. He blinks at Jaskier, golden eyes swiftly glancing at his covered soulmark.

“Hmm.”

Jaskier nearly balks at the response. Well, he certainly wasn’t expecting that!

“Geralt?”

When Geralt meets his hopeful stare, Jaskier knows his answer from the lack of emotion in the other man’s eyes. Something in him cracks at that very moment.

“I don’t know what to say,” Geralt begins haltingly.

Jaskier’s voice is hoarse when he answers, “The truth would be nice.”

Geralt hums but doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. He looks at the painting to his left, and Jaskier silently observes him as he works up the nerve to share his thoughts.

Eventually, Geralt settles upon saying, “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

A part of Jaskier was already expecting it, based on Geralt’s initial reaction, but it still hurts, holy shit.

“Can you…” Jaskier clears his throat. “Can you tell me why? Maybe, maybe we can compromise?”

His voice trails off when Geralt shakes his head.

“I’m not… available. The whole soulmate thing is… hmm. It’s not my thing. I don’t believe in that whole destiny crap. I’m sorry.”

Not his thing? Doesn’t believe in the “whole destiny crap”?

What?

“But, but Geralt,” Jaskier protests weakly. “You’re my other half. And I’m your--”

“I said I’m not interested,” Geralt reiterates firmly, golden eyes determinedly not meeting Jaskier. “I’m sorry, Jaskier.”

Then without waiting for a response, Geralt shoulders past him and leaves the break room like he’s being chased by a pack of wolves.

Jaskier stares at the spot where Geralt was standing just moments ago, feeling like he lost the one thing he never had in the first place.

~

Present day

“Remind me again why Valentine’s Day is not considered a proper holiday?”

Essi is looking through the books that line up the shelves of Jaskier’s office as he rummages the piles of paper scattered on his desk.

“Because Valentine’s Day is not a proper holiday, Essi,” Jaskier answers somewhat distractedly. He continues searching for one of the papers he remembers grading the night before, but he can’t find. It. Here. “It’s just a big, fat scheme for companies to capitalize on lovesick fools. Now where the bloody fuck is that paper?!”

Essi ignores his grumbling.

“Hmm, true, but they should. I mean, any business big or small can develop a strong value proposition aimed at lovesick couples. Of course, the competition would be ghastly, but considering that Sole Mate has matched 5,000 couples in the UK alone, I think they missed an opportunity there.”

“Whatever you--” Jaskier starts to say, only to immediately cut himself off when he starts coughing. And it’s not the good kind of cough, either.

He spends almost a minute coughing up a lung, and he ultimately accepts the tissues Essi hands him. He thanks her with a thumbs up before he spits out the phlegm on it. Jaskier crumples it up before tossing it in the bin under his desk. Out of sight, out of mind.

“Are you okay?” Essi asks him, sounding worried.

Jaskier nods as he clears his throat before speaking.

“Yes yes, I’m fine. Sorry, didn’t mean to alarm you.”

“Jask, you don’t look fine.”

Jaskier waves off his friend’s concern as he pushes a book out of the way. He makes a triumphant sound when he finally finds the missing paper. Jaskier quickly shoves it into his messenger bag as he picks up his blazer to shrug into it.

He meets Essi’s worried gaze, and Jaskier tries to appease her with a dimpled smile.

“Turn that frown upside down. I’m perfectly fine, Essi.”

Essi still doesn’t look convinced. “Have you been to the doctor? You should go for a check-up.”

Jaskier shakes his head.

“I’m still recovering from the flu last week but I’m regularly drinking that herbal tea you recommended to me. It’s working wonders on my throat. I’ll be right as rain in no time, don’t you worry.”

~

Rejected soulbonds are few and far between as far as Jaskier is aware. There’s not much study material available on the Internet, but what he’s found out so far doesn’t help ease the anxiety that’s been building up for months now.

Lethargy. A decrease in the immune system. Difficulty with sleeping. Shortness of breath.

They’re a few of the symptoms that researchers from Kerack Institute compiled a few years ago from studying broken, or rejected, soulbonds. According to their study, it’s not a life-threatening situation. People who experience this usually end up recovering after a period of time. Broken or rejected soulbonds usually occur if the person’s soulmate is deceased before they meet, or if their other half is already in a committed relationship with someone else.

In Jaskier’s case, it’s neither. Geralt’s rejection still stings after all these years, and Jaskier doesn’t understand why he still feels like it happened yesterday. The ache in his chest is not dissipating at all. In fact, it’s worsening as days go by. He’s been to see a cardiologist, and the scans showed that his heart is perfectly fine. So whatever Jaskier is going through right now is not physical, but more… psychological? Emotional?

He’s not certain about that since there’s not enough material about his case. But one thing does stand out from what Jaskier read about rejected soulbonds.

Proximity is what makes or breaks the affected party.

Unfortunately, Jaskier and Geralt are employed in the same university. They attend the same weekly meeting, attend the university’s functions when required, and they usually see each other during their breaks. It’s not often, but it happens frequently.

So the more he sees Geralt, the worse Jaskier feels. And over time, it could literally be his life on the line.

And therein lies the problem.

Well, there’s only one thing left to do.

~

“You want to go on sabbatical?”

“Yes.”

“Right now?”

“I believe that’s what I just said, yes.”

Vesemir Morhen, the president of Redania University, looks at Jaskier with a perplexed expression.

“Jaskier, may I know why you’re requesting to go on leave in the middle of the semester?”

Jaskier hesitates for a second before replying, “I just think it’s the right time to do so, sir. I talked to Priscilla, and she’s willing to shoulder my classes for the rest of term. There’s not much ground to cover--”

“Jaskier, Priscilla is going on maternity leave starting next month,” Vesemir interrupts him, eyebrow raised.

“Well, um, I’m aware of that.”

“Then why--”

“That’s why I talked to Coën to cover for her, well, for me, next--”

“No.”

Jaskier snaps his mouth shut mid-tirade at Vesemir’s stern gaze.

“Sir, please, I--”

Vesemir shakes his head.

“No, Jaskier. If you really want to take a sabbatical, you can do so after the term ends. At this moment, I can’t allow you to go on leave. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait a little longer.”

“Very well, sir,” Jaskier answers stiffly, knowing that once Vesemir has made his mind up there’s no chance of him changing his decision.

So he’s stuck for another three months here.

Fuck, he curses to himself. Damn it.

~

It’s a little late in the evening and Jaskier is just about to leave his office. After hours of hunching over his desk marking papers from his Advanced Creative Writing class, Jaskier is more than ready to eat leftovers for dinner and binge-watch a few episodes of Anne With An E. Fortunately, he doesn’t have a scheduled class until tomorrow afternoon so he can sleep in a little bit later.

Jaskier locks his office, pockets his key, and turns to walk down the hallway towards the parking lot when he finds himself meeting Geralt’s gaze across the corridor. A jolt runs down his spine as he staggers in his steps, and Jaskier is momentarily nonplussed at the peculiar look on the burly man’s face.

“Jaskier,” Geralt says eventually when he doesn’t speak up.

Jaskier swallows inaudibly, his tongue clicking on the roof of his mouth.

“Geralt.”

Jaskier waits patiently as he eyes the Anthropology professor who looks like he’s working up the courage to say something. It’s certainly a first, and Jaskier is not sure what Destiny has up her - his? Their? - sleeve this time.

He’s fucking exhausted, damn it.

“Yennefer told me you were planning to go on sabbatical,” Geralt finally blurts out in his typical gruff voice.

Jaskier blinks. Well, he was certainly not expecting that.

“What? I mean, how in the world did Yennefer find out? I never spoke to anyone about this except Vesemir.”

He notes with awe as Geralt shuffles his feet on the hardwood floors, and for a moment, something akin to fondness wells up in Jaskier’s chest before he tamps it down. This is not the time to feel anything remotely positive towards Geralt Rivia when he’s the source of Jaskier’s misery.

“Hmm, well,” he hears Geralt reply. “She told me she heard it from someone who overheard Vesemir’s assistant talking to Tissaia after you left. So it could be anyone.”

Jaskier is unable to hide a groan of frustration. He runs a hand through his already disheveled chestnut locks as he thinks, Great, they’re definitely going to bring this up at the meeting on Friday. Nosy little witches.

“Yes, well, it’s not happening,” Jaskier says with a shrug. He finds himself taking a step, and another, and another, before he’s walking down the corridor to narrow the distance between him and Geralt. And he doesn’t stop when he reaches the other man’s side. “Vesemir said I can’t go on leave right now, so I’ll still be here until the end of term.”

He hears footsteps behind him, and Jaskier inwardly curses when Geralt picks up the pace to follow him.

Just his luck. And why the fuck now?

“Is everything okay?”

Puzzled at the non-sequitur, Jaskier doesn’t break his stride, but he does look over his shoulder to see the closest thing to concern written over Geralt’s face. A part of Jaskier finds it endearing before he swats that thought away with a scowl.

“Everything’s fucking peachy, Geralt,” he answers waspishly before turning his attention ahead of him. “And why are you following me?”

“I’m not, I’m going to the parking lot,” Geralt says simply. This time, Jaskier detects a hint of amusement in his tone, which only serves to piss him off. “Where did you plan on going, then?”

“None of your business,” Jaskier says through gritted teeth. He thrusts open the double doors and quickly descends the stone steps two at a time.

“What’s gotten into you?” he hears Geralt ask, and that’s it.

They reach the parking lot, but instead of marching over to his blue Volkswagen Beetle, Jaskier whirls around to face Geralt. He distantly notes with satisfaction how the other man quickly takes a step back.

“Nothing has gotten into me,” Jaskier says, aggravated beyond comprehension in that moment. “I just wanted some goddamn space, but apparently that’s really fucking hard to come by these days. So for the love of god, take your curiosity and fake sincerity and leave me the fuck alone.”

Geralt’s brows furrow as he meets Jaskier’s glare with perplexity.

“I… it’s not--” he protests haltingly before he shakes his head and tries again. “I only wanted to know--”

Jaskier swiftly cuts him off.

“Well, you lost that right the day you rejected me,” he spits out. Distantly, he knows he’s being too harsh, but Jaskier can’t bring himself to care right now because nothing in his life makes sense anymore. He misses the flicker of emotion that passes over Geralt’s face, too busy turning around to unlock his car. “Just… just leave me alone, Geralt.”

If Geralt responds, Jaskier doesn’t hear it. He starts the ignition and doesn’t bother to warm up the car. He quickly reverses from his parking space and presses his foot on the gas, wanting to get as far away as he can from the one person his soul is aching to be close to.

~

“Damn, Jask,” Essi says after Jaskier relays to her what happened that night over the phone. “You really tore him a new one, huh?”

“Serves him right,” Jaskier grumbles. He takes another bite of leftover orange chicken as he listens to his friend whistle on the other end. “I know that kind of whistle. That’s your disapproving whistle.”

“Yes, well,” Essi starts. Jaskier frowns, so he pauses the show he’s watching, cutting off Anne mid-tirade as she talks to Gilbert Blythe.

“What is it?”

Essi hesitates for another second before eventually saying, “Don’t you think you were a little harsh on him, though?” Before Jaskier can respond, she continues. “Don’t get me wrong. Geralt should’ve seen it coming and I understand where you’re coming from, Jask. But I don’t know, something doesn’t add up to the confrontation. Like, I feel like your reaction wasn’t justified enough?”

Jaskier sighs.

“What do you want me to say, Essi? He was being nosy and I didn’t like it. We barely exchanged a word in three years and of all the occasions, he chooses now to do so? Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t know, either.”

Essi is silent for a while.

“Something’s up with you, Jask.”

Jaskier is lucky that they’re not talking over FaceTime because he would’ve been caught in that moment.

“Nothing’s up with me,” he says with an eye roll. He knows Essi doesn’t believe him, so he adds, “I swear, Essi. I just want a break, and I think not seeing Geralt’s face for a year is the first step.”

~

Weeks pass, and spring slowly introduces itself in hues of green and yellow. Jaskier is able to breathe a little easier when he notices the distinct lack of one Geralt Rivia. Sure, they still see each other during faculty meetings, but that’s a given. Outside of that weekly assembly, Jaskier doesn’t see neither hide nor hair of the silver-haired Adonis. A part of him sighs in relief because at least his one wish was granted. But another part of him, the bigger part, can’t help but feel melancholy at no longer seeing or bumping into his soulmate.

After all, it’s for Jaskier’s benefit that it has to be this way until the end of term. Less than three months to go and he can finally go on sabbatical. He doesn’t know where he’s going yet, but Jaskier finds the idea of starting in New Zealand to visit Hobbiton very appealing.

He’s going to miss his students, of course. He’s going to miss Essi and Priscilla, and the other faculty members he’s gotten close to over the years. He’s obviously going to miss Mister Fuzzball, his orange tabby purring and constantly requesting for cuddles and treats. He hates to admit it, even to himself, but Jaskier knows he’s going to miss Geralt. Fuck, he misses the man right this moment, and the idea of not seeing his soulmate for a year makes him feel… antsy.

“No, we’re doing this,” Jaskier shakes his head. Mister Fuzzball meows and he looks down to see his cat playfully nipping at his fingers. Jaskier chuckles and cuddles Mister Fuzzball closer to his chest. “You’re right, Mister Fuzzball. This is for the best. Distance is what will heal this rejected bond, that’s for certain. What’s the worst that could happen, right?”

Mister Fuzzball meows and boops his nose to Jaskier’s chin.

Yes. Easier said than done.

~

It all comes to a head in late May.

Finals week is looming closer so Jaskier and the rest of the faculty at Redania University are working overtime. After a tiring week of preparing exams and preparing his handover to the Literature Department before he goes on sabbatical, Jaskier elects to pamper himself once the weekend rolls around.

He wakes up after eleven on a Saturday morning and decides to have brunch at his favorite pub. He calls Essi, who agrees to meet him at Rosemary & Thyme in half an hour, before he gets up from bed and starts getting ready for a relaxing day outside. Maybe he’ll try and coax Essi to go shopping with him. Retail therapy has worked wonders on his mental state before.

But Jaskier never managed to do any of those things.

Instead of taking his car, he elects to take the subway instead because finding a parking space is always a pain in the arse on the weekend. Jaskier is only a few blocks away from reaching Rosemary & Thyme when he hears the commotion before he sees it.

Several vehicles’s horns start blaring while people from the sidewalks shout in alarm. Jaskier turns at the noise, and he feels his heart leap to his throat when he sees a small blonde girl running to the middle of the road to pick up a round, furry stuffed toy she likely dropped.

“Ciri!”

The voice who yells the child’s name is somewhat familiar, but Jaskier ignores it for the moment because a child is in danger. He doesn’t know how it happens or why, but something clicks in Jaskier that makes him act on instinct. He pushes past the other onlookers staring in horror and sprints to the middle of the busy street.

The small blonde girl -- Ciri -- can’t be more than five years old. She has the furry toy clutched to her chest when Jaskier reaches her side. From his peripheral vision, he glimpses a cab approaching them, and the next several seconds happen in slow-motion.

The cab’s brakes screech as the driver spots them a little too late.

The blonde girl’s emerald eyes lock on Jaskier, a look of awe and confusion on her freckled gaze.

Around them, several bystanders are either frozen on the spot or shouting in alarm.

Geralt stands at the curb with Yennefer and a few other burly men, a look of undisguised terror on his handsome face.

It feels like a lifetime and not, and without giving it much thought, Jaskier finds himself lifting the blonde girl and tossing her in the arms of the one cyclist who had the presence of mind to block the other cars who managed to brake on time.

Except for one.

One second, he has both feet on the ground, and the next Jaskier finds himself on his back on the concrete floor. He feels something sticky trickle down his face, and when he tries to speak, he ends up coughing on the metallic taste of blood.

Oh. So he got hit by the cab, then.

A cacophony of noise permeates through his muddled senses. Sirens and screams and several pairs of feet thudding closer and closer. Jaskier tries to blink but his vision is blurring.

“Jaskier, Jaskier,” the familiar voice says, sounding panicked and choked to his ears. Do they know him? “Jaskier, oh fuck. Hold on, Jaskier. Help’s on the way.”

“Eskel, take Ciri from the cyclist,” another familiar voice filters through. “Geralt, don’t move him. We don’t know what injuries he’s sustained.”

“What injuries-?!” an unfamiliar growly voice interrupts. “He got hit by a fucking car! He’s definitely broken some bones.”

“Lambert, be useful and call a fucking ambulance,” the familiar voice growls back. There’s a gurgling sound before the familiar voice, Geralt, speaks up. “Ssh, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay. I’m so sorry.”

“Ngh,” Jaskier slurs. He tries to keep his eyes open but it’s becoming more difficult by the second. “G’rlt.”

“Keep your eyes on me,” the voice repeats, and they sound choked with emotion. “Jask, stay with me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please stay with me.”

It’s the last thing Jaskier hears before he loses consciousness.

~

2 weeks later

“You wonder what he’s thinking when he shivers like that. What can you tell me? What could you possibly tell me? Sure, it’s good to feel things, and if it hurts, we’re doing it to ourselves--”

Someone knocks on the door before it opens, and Jaskier looks up to see the nurse, Jackie, standing on the threshold. Essi, who’s been reading to him his favorite poems for the past hour, stops to look up as well.

Jackie smiles at them before she addresses Jaskier, “I’m sorry for interrupting you, but you have another visitor, Jaskier.”

A glance at the clock nailed to the wall in front of him alerts Jaskier that it’s already past three o’clock.

“Shit,” Essi curses beside him, clearly taking note of the time as well. “Sorry, Jask. I lost track of the time. I need to go.”

She looks down apologetically at Jaskier, who shakes his head in understanding and smiles warmly at her.

“Not at all, Essi,” he says, voice still a bit hoarse. “Thank you for visiting me again. I’m sorry for keeping you.”

Essi pockets her phone and slings her messenger bag across her shoulders before leaning down to brush a hand through Jaskier’s unwashed hair and planting a soft kiss on his bandaged forehead.

“Don’t apologize, silly,” she admonishes slightly once she straightens. She smiles crookedly at Jaskier and brushes her fingers on his face, lightly tracing the faint bruises on his cheek. “I’ll drop by again tomorrow before my afternoon lecture. Do you need me to get you anything?”

“No, I’m good. But please feed Mister Fuzzball, and cuddle him for me, won’t you?”

Essi rolls her eyes good-naturedly but nods her head. “Of course, Jask. I got Mister Fuzzies under control.”

“It’s Mister Fuzzball!”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Love you. Take it easy and I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

It’s Jaskier’s turn to roll his eyes, but he carefully waves his bandaged wrist at his best friend’s departing figure.

“Love you too. See you later, Daven.”

When Essi disappears around the corner, less than thirty seconds pass before Jaskier’s next visitors come in.

“Jaskier! You’re awake!” a small, blonde girl greets as she dashes inside the room. She stops at the very last second when she reaches Jaskier’s side, careful with his injuries as she climbs up the bed to plant a sloppy but very welcome kiss on his bruised cheek.

“Of course I’m awake, darling,” Jaskier answers with a dimpled grin as he playfully boops Ciri’s nose, causing the child to giggle. “I would never pass up the chance to miss your visit.”

“How are you? Did you finish watching Frozen yesterday? You fell asleep and Papa said I shouldn’t disturb you.”

“I’m feeling better now that you’re here. And no, I didn’t finish Frozen yesterday but I already watched it before so it’s okay. What movie do you want to watch next, hm?”

Jaskier chuckles as he listens to Ciri prattle on for the next few minutes about her favorite scenes in Frozen and how she wants to watch an old Disney film called The Emperor’s New Groove. Jaskier looks up to see the second visitor who silently trailed after the energetic child, making sure to shut the door behind him to give them privacy.

Geralt is already seated on the chair Essi just vacated, the silver-haired man looking at Ciri and Jaskier with undisguised fondness. If someone told Jaskier that he would be the object of Geralt Rivia’s shameless googly eyes, he would tell them where to shove it. But as it is, since his unfortunate accident two weeks ago, it’s like the man did a 180-degree. It’s probably mean of Jaskier to think it, but he can’t help it. If he hadn’t saved Geralt’s daughter, they likely wouldn’t be in this situation.

But Jaskier won’t have it any other way. Daughter or not, Jaskier doesn’t regret saving Ciri. Not at all. He may only know the child for less than a month, but he already loves her like his own, and that notion should terrify Jaskier. It really should, but for some unfathomable reason, it feels completely natural. As easy as breathing.

Although he and Geralt still have so much to talk about - goodness, there’s so much baggage between them that needs to be unpacked and addressed - Jaskier finds that he doesn’t mind spending this time getting to know his soulmate’s family. Aside from Ciri, he’s already met Lambert and Eskel, Geralt’s foster brothers who also drop in to visit him a few times a week. Jaskier likes them, likes their crude sense of humor and enjoys their company even when he doesn’t feel like chatting.

Then there’s Vesemir, who happens to be Geralt’s uncle or whatever, and isn’t that a fucking shock? Jaskier initially didn’t know whether to be horrified or amused when the president of the university he works at visited him to wish him a speedy recovery. In the end, Jaskier takes it in stride and thanks the old man for his well wishes.

How has this become his life now? Will wonders never cease?

“- and Uncle Lambert said I should watch Monsters, Inc. next after The Emperor’s New Groove because he said I remind him of Boo,” Ciri continues to chatter, the adorable five-year-old making herself at home by Jaskier’s uninjured side.

Jaskier listens to her attentively, while looking up every now and then at Geralt, the Anthropology professor currently balancing his laptop on his knees as he slowly types.

It’s the sixth, or probably seventh, time that Jaskier looks up when he meets Geralt’s golden eyes already trained on him. There’s that familiar jolt that runs down his spine when their gazes meet, and Jaskier raises a brow at him.

Geralt’s lips quirk upwards into a semblance of a smile, and Jaskier feels his heart stutter against his chest when his soulmate quietly mouths, “Hi.”

Jaskier tries to fight off a smile but fails rather dismally.

“Hi,” he mouths back before shifting his attention back to Ciri, who’s now chattering about her morning at the daycare.

All at once, it feels like the end and beginning of something new.

~

“Gods, I miss playing my lute,” Jaskier grumbles to himself a few nights later.

Ciri is fast asleep beside him, the adorable child already drooling on his shoulder but he doesn’t mind it in the least bit. They watched two movies and had dinner plus dessert, so Jaskier feels a little spoiled.

“Your what now?” Geralt asks, and Jaskier nearly jolts Ciri awake, almost forgetting that there’s another occupant in the room.

He recovers quickly and leans back against the fluffy pillows.

“My lute,” he repeats. At Geralt’s blank stare, Jaskier huffs out a laugh and continues. “It’s a medieval instrument that bards used to play. I learned to play it back in uni - I minored in Music, by the way - and I just… I just love it. And I miss playing it.”

“Oh,” Geralt says after a while. “I never knew you played.”

If Jaskier’s smile comes off a little bitter, Geralt thankfully doesn’t mention it.

“We both don’t know a lot about each other, I’m afraid,” he says.

“Hmm.”

Jaskier snorts. “Well, except for that.”

Geralt doesn’t say anything after that, so they spend the next several minutes in silence. It’s comfortable, for a change, and Jaskier doesn’t mind breaking the quiet with inane chatter. While he enjoyed watching children’s movies with Ciri, he’s easily exhausted, still in the midst of recuperating from his extensive list of injuries. A major head concussion is no joke, but at least Jaskier can sleep peacefully these days.

He’s staring aimlessly at the ceiling and thinking about what he’ll do first when he’s eventually discharged when he hears Geralt clear his throat.

“I was afraid,” Geralt starts when Jaskier turns his head to meet the older man’s eyes. At Jaskier’s puzzled frown, Geralt clears his throat again and explains. “That day, when you told me we were soulmates… I panicked.”

Oh, so they’re finally going to talk about it now. While his soulmate’s daughter is lightly snoring and drooling on Jaskier?

Okay, then.

“That’s some way to panic,” Jaskier teases, but it falls a little flat. He notices Geralt wince, and Jaskier inwardly curses himself because it’s not the time to make jokes right now. “I’m sorry,” he quickly adds. “I didn’t mean it like that. Please continue, I won’t interrupt.”

Geralt blinks, looking surprised. Jaskier smiles at him and decides to wait patiently for him to speak. It doesn’t take long.

“I don’t have a good track record when it comes to relationships,” Geralt begins, his voice quiet and gruff so as not to wake his daughter. He’s not meeting Jaskier’s gaze. Instead, it’s trained on Jaskier’s fingers that’s carefully playing with Ciri’s blonde curls. “Ask my brothers, ask Yennefer, and they’ll gladly tell you of my failed relationships. Don’t know why, but I was more prone to burning bridges than maintaining them.”

Jaskier feels his heart break, and it takes every ounce in him to not reach out to take Geralt’s hand in his because he’s afraid the other man won’t welcome his touch. So Jaskier bites his cheek and keeps silent, and keeps his hands to himself. He continues to wait in silence, willing to be patient for Geralt because it’s clear to see now that his soulmate is struggling with his words.

And he knows better now, too, that Geralt needs this moment to unpack everything that’s been left unsaid between them all these years.

“When Ciri was born, I felt like I finally had purpose,” Geralt continues. “Her mother didn’t want anything to do with her, so Fiona left her in my care and never looked back. I was fine with it, didn’t mind taking on the responsibility of caring for Ciri. She’s my kid, after all, and it’s an honor to raise her. I thought, since I hadn’t met my soulmate at the time, that everything would be fine. And it was fine for a couple of years. Then I met you.”

At this, Geralt finally looks up from studying Jaskier’s deft fingers to meet his cornflower blue eyes. There’s that oh-so familiar jolt, and for the first time in three years, Jaskier allows himself to bask in the remarkable feeling.

“Then you met me,” Jaskier repeats with a small, sad smile. “And I went and made a fool of myself.”

Geralt emphatically shakes his head.

“No, you didn’t,” he says firmly. “I was an idiot.”

“No, I was the idiot.”

“Let’s agree to disagree, then.”

“In retrospect, I probably made things difficult for you,” Jaskier says with a half-shrug. “So I’m really sorry, Geralt. I think I was pretty tactless with my approach.”

Geralt smiles ruefully at him. “My reaction is what caused us to have a falling out.”

Jaskier opens his mouth then closes it with a thoughtful hum.

“I suppose,” he says, then he glances up from studying Ciri’s peaceful face to look at Geralt with a slight tilt of his head. “Why did you react that way, though? I thought… well, I thought you hated me. Hated the concept of soulmates.”

“I could never hate you,” Geralt cuts him off with a sincere look.

Jaskier gapes at him for a few seconds.

“I, well. You said--”

Geralt swiftly interrupts him once again.

“I remember,” he discloses with a grimace. “I’m not proud of it. I was selfish, Jaskier, and I’m sorry.”

“Alright,” Jaskier says with a patient smile. “You’re sorry, but for what? Telling me the truth? Rejecting me?”

His voice trails off when Geralt shakes his head.

“No, no. None of that.” At Jaskier’s puzzled frown, Geralt sighs and rubs the back of his head. “When I met you, I was terrified at how you made me feel. I felt… wrong-footed, I think? And when you told me we were soulmates, it just made the whole thing more… threatening.”

“Threatening how?”

“Ciri is my number one priority. Sure, she has Vesemir and her uncles, and Yennefer, but I’m her dad. My purpose, my… everything I do is for her, Jask, and you have to understand. Please understand, that when you told me we were soulmates, it felt like everything I worked so hard for would come crashing down. Because here was another person who… matters to me more than I could understand at the time. I was… scared… that if I acknowledged our bond, and accepted you, that it would make Ciri feel like I wasn’t prioritizing her. That she was no longer my number one.”

“Because then you’d have to focus all your time and energy on me,” Jaskier finishes, finally understanding where Geralt is coming from. “And on us. Because it takes a couple of months to solidify the bond.”

“Yes.”

Geralt nods, and he looks like there’s a huge weight that’s lifted from his shoulders. Like he’s been carrying this weight for the past three years or so.

Jaskier breathes in and slowly exhales through his nose. He, too, feels like there’s a huge weight that’s been lifted off his chest. Like he and Geralt are finally on the same page.

Well, almost.

“Geralt, I want you to listen to me closely because I’m going to say this once.”

Geralt nods, golden eyes intense as he waits for Jaskier to continue. This time, Jaskier takes a chance and reaches for his soulmates clasped hands. To his immense surprise, Geralt’s fingers curl around his, as if they’ve been doing it for years instead of for the first time.

“I will never fight for your attention, because Ciri will always be your number one. I’m confident in saying that because, believe it or not, I absolutely adore your daughter to bits.” They exchange smiles at that, each turning to look at Ciri sleeping peacefully between them. Jaskier clears his throat and continues. “I’m sorry that you felt like you had to choose between us. If that was the impression I gave you, then I beg for your forgiveness because it honestly wasn’t. I promise you, Geralt. I promise you that Ciri will also be my top priority.” He shakes his head when Geralt is about to open his mouth. “No. If we’re doing this, Geralt, then I want to be involved. I want to be a part of Ciri’s life, not just yours.”

“I can’t ask you of this, Jaskier,” Geralt professes.

“I know you’re not asking,” Jaskier says with a good-natured eye roll. “That’s why I’m offering, silly.”

Something in Geralt breaks because his shoulders sag. He stares unbelievably softly at Jaskier, golden eyes tender with emotion.

“Jaskier,” Geralt says, awe in his tone.

Thinking that he literally has nothing left to lose, Jaskier moves his hand from grasping Geralt’s to cupping his cheek. He feels his soulmate lean into his touch, and Jaskier knows right then and there that they’re going to be alright.

“We both have baggage,” Jaskier tells him once their gazes lock once more. “And we still have so much to talk about. But I’m in this for the long haul, Geralt. You’re my other half, and I’m yours.”

“I’m yours,” Geralt repeats, and he sounds like he’s starting to believe it.

When he leans over to press soft, dry lips to Jaskier’s slightly chapped ones, Jaskier lets himself believe it, too.

They’re going to be alright.

[pinelife3]

An investigation: if supermodels are so dumb and vapid, how do they pull artistic geniuses?

This is a picture of Nick Cave and his wife leaving the inquest into their son’s death. Their 15 year old boy fell from a cliff after taking acid and becoming disoriented. 

I cannot even conceive of how terrible it must be to lose a child. The drugs and the cliff make it an episode of Skins (or Euphoria for the zoomers) but that’s your little boy. It was a stupid accident and now you never get to see him again. A teenaged tragedy. Unendingly unfair. 

Ghosteen, the 2019 album from Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, is a complex, existential album in conversation with the death of Nick’s son and his feelings of loss and grief. Nick Cave is an artist - his life’s work is to share how he feels and what he thinks. What he’s expressing with Ghosteen is sorrow and longing - and some larger angst about the purpose of existence.

Through all this tragedy, I’m sure you couldn’t help but notice... who’s the babe with the shiny hair and the fabulous gazongas? That’s Nick’s wife, man! Susie Bick - or sometimes Susie Cave. She was a major model in the 80s and 90s. A model and an artist - it’s actually fitting. 

And what’s more, Susie is the founder of The Vampire’s Wife - a label which has become super popular in the last couple of years. (Fashion people eyeroll The Vampire’s Wife because every dress has the same silhouette, but that’s out of the scope of this blog.)

There is a perception that models are are vapid and unserious. Their job is to look good, keep their mouth shut, and move merchandise. They cannot offer anything profound because their value is surface level. Men and women both push this way of thinking. 

For example, when Brad Pitt was recently revealed to be dating 27 year old model Nicole Poturalski, people were disappointed. Brad Pitt has been a cultural fixture for decades - after all this time, people still find him fascinating. And they expect him to date someone who is equally compelling. Clooney married a human rights lawyer - why is Brad dating someone who makes posts like this on Instagram...

This was Lainey Gossip’s take on the new girlfriend: 

A model, younger, it’s so predictable it’s almost boring.

Nice! I guess we’re all feminists until the woman in question is young and hot. 

It's easy to assume the worst of a person who is unknown to us, but is beautiful and hooking up with someone famous. A million mean thoughts spring to mind. “A model, younger”. That’s scorn. You know exactly what she’s saying: hot but dumb. An uninteresting person. We know what Brad really wants her for... 

If Brad Pitt is compelling to you, how compelling must Nicole Poturalski be to have won and held his attention? Brad Pitt has not been celibate in the four years since he separated from Angelina Jolie, but not until Nicole did we have confirmation of someone who he was definitely seeing. He allowed himself to be photographed with her en route to his French chateau. And what ensued was a weird story - she’s in an open relationship with some old German restaurateur and she has a son? She’s a sugar baby? Why would Brad fucking Pitt get publicly involved with someone who has a messy personal life: why hook up with a married 27 year old and weather months of stories about her open marriage if he didn’t actually like her? Why even be seen with her? The relationship is a little weird - but the reporting on it has been nasty. The new sugar baby angle which has emerged in the last week (late October 2020) is basically calling her a whore. This is the level of suspicion and derision directed at a model dating a public fixture like Brad Pitt. The notion that Brad Pitt would pay for female company or sex is patently absurd. 

If our assumptions about models are correct, why do so many models end up with artistic geniuses? I don’t care about the Victoria’s Secret models who hooked up with the bassist from Kings of Leon. I’m talking about beautiful women who made it with icons, the premier humans of the past century:

MUSICIANS

Nick Cave and Susie Bick

David Bowie and Iman

Kanye West and Amber Rose

Bob Dylan and Sara Lownds

Mick Jagger and Jerry Hall

Mick Jagger and Carla Bruni

Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin

Eric Clapton and Pattie Boyd

George Harrison and Pattie Boyd

Madonna and Jesus Luz

MISC. POWERFUL PEOPLE

Salman Rushdie and Padma Lakshmi

Donald Trump and Melania (lol)

Nicolas Sarkozy and Carla Bruni

Evan Spiegel and Miranda Kerr 

Hitler and Eva Braun (What?! She had a brief career an artist’s model...)

Michael Jordan and Yvette Prieto

Rupert Murdoch and Jerry Hall 

ACTORS (perhaps not artistic icons... but still creative and interesting)

Matthew McConaughey and Camila Alves

Johnny Depp and Kate Moss

Bradley Cooper and Irina Shayk

Bradley Cooper and Suki Waterhouse

Robert Pattinson and Suki Waterhouse

Vincent Cassel and Tina Kunakey

Halle Berry and Gabriel Aubrey

Leonardo DiCaprio and half the VS roster

Huge congrats to all the models with more than one entry on the list. You’ll note that there is a dearth of female icon/male model pairings - this is kind of interesting but not something I feel like getting into.

To some extent, the prevalence of the artist and model pairing makes sense. Men like good looking women. Rich, powerful men are high status and have access to good looking women. Plus, an artist needs a muse.

Many of the models in the list above are actually iconic in their own right. Like, when someone is having a great day on RuPaul’s Drag Race and looking sleek and skinny and flawless RuPaul might compare them to Iman. People pay $10,000 USD for handbags named after Jane Birkin. 

Conversely, in the case of Amber Rose, she became the most desired woman in the hip hop industry c. 2010 because she was with Kanye. And most especially because she broke Kanye’s heart. Everyone wanted the girl from “Hell of a Life”. People point to that song as being about Kim - it was prophetic, yes, but not written about her.

Anyway. Could an icon, a legend, a genius, make it work with someone who had nothing to offer but a fast metabolism and a beautiful face? Do poreless skin and puffy lips make up for never finishing high school? 

Wouldn’t being with someone superficial or unserious mean the artist was fundamentally boring in some way too? This is increasingly the assumption about Leonardo DiCaprio - seen above photographing his 23 year old model gf for her Instagram. Even Reddit mocks him for his age gap relationships with models.

And here’s where I try to make my point: 

Kate Moss’ daughter, Lila, recently had her modelling debut during Paris Fashion Week. It was big news because she’s celebrity spawn - and of course her mother is one of the most iconic models ever. She was eviscerated. 

On The Daily Mail, the comparisons to her mother flowed. What’s interesting is that Daily Mail readers do not like Kate Moss but they will defend her 90s modelling career with their life. They laud her bone structure, her waifish figure. An irresistible, undeniable face. 

It seems silly to praise someone for the shape of their head and the way their skin fits over it... it’s not a talent, is it? Maybe it is! There is no shortage of hot girls in the world - but there may be a shortage of girls with preternatural charismatic beauty. Lila Moss (left above) is attractive - she even looks quite a bit like her mum. Perhaps in the pic above she even looks hotter than her mum (right above). But Kate Moss is more interesting: less perfect - half her eyebrow is missing, she’s less manicured. She exudes some kind of darkness, newness. Lottie Moss, Kate’s younger half-sister, is a similar story. Obviously attractive, obviously interested in modelling - but she’s lacking something. 

Bella Hadid came from a similar-ish background to Lila Moss (Bravoleb parents, frequent appearances on Real Housewives of Beverley Hills in her teen years, groomed by her ex-model mother) but Bella Hadid has it. She may have risen through the ranks due to nepotism and cosmetic surgery but she is someone people want to look at. She is sought after - not foisted upon us. Again, it’s not because she’s the hottest woman on the planet. She is gorgeous, but on top of that, there’s something beguiling about the angles of her face.

What’s this thing that clicks in your head telling you that Kate Moss’s face is more interesting than her daughter’s? It’s an intrusive thought: her skull shape is pleasing, let your eyes linger. A command: you will not forget that face. 

Iman has it. Look at her. On meeting Iman, Bowie said: "I was naming the children the night we met... it was absolutely immediate." How many beautiful women had Bowie met in his life? How many had this effect?

Can you imagine trying to keep David Bowie or Bob Dylan interested in what you’re saying? Or Madonna? Or Michael Jordan? Most of us do not have a single thought in our head which would be of interest to these people. The models I listed earlier transfixed them. Mick Jagger could have romanced every woman on the planet - but he only wanted Jerry Hall (pls disregard affairs so I can make my point). 

When a model hooks up with an artistic genius, it’s illogical to assume she’s vapid or that the icon is with her for shallow reasons. What we should assume is that she is the most interesting woman that icon has crossed paths with in a long time - which would make her very interesting indeed.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Kiro’s Greenhouse Date (Eng Translation)

🍒Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers!🍒

Note: This is a cancelled date which will unlikely come to EN :<

More from this Collection: Gavin // Lucien // Victor

The date begins with MC commenting on how Kiro has been extremely busy lately. He hasn’t been picking up calls, and his messages have been short. MC also notes that although he appears normal on television, his eyes have become slightly dimmer.

MC recalls how Kiro has always been giving her strength whenever she’s feeling low, so she decides to do the same for him. She sends him a message:

MC: Miss Chips’ personalized mystery surprise, only applicable to Mr Kiro. Please claim this prize within the one hour time limit, or else it will expire~

After sending the message, I continue watching the television. However, I am entirely focused on my phone and alerted to every chime it makes.

Almost an hour passes and Kiro has not replied. While I’m hesitating whether or not to call him, my phone finally vibrates.

Kiro: This is the special prize winner Mr Kiro. I wish to ask Miss Chips – what exactly is my prize?

His tone is tinged with tiredness, but he still ends his sentences with a cheery lilt.

MC: It shall remain a secret. All you have to do is give me your time this Sunday!

Kiro is stunned for a moment, then a smile seeps into his voice.

Kiro: [laughs] When did you learn this trick of mine?

MC: Heh heh, I’m not telling you. Once you have accepted the prize, there’s no backing out!

Kiro: Yes, Mr Kiro promises Miss Chips.

MC: That’s great! I was even worried… ah, nothing….

Kiro: Worried about what? Were you anxious that I almost didn’t respond in time? I guessed correctly, didn’t I?

MC: Hmph, that’s because I didn’t want to waste my surprise.

Hearing this, Kiro chuckles from the other end of the line. The tiredness that was in his voice earlier has dissipated quite a bit.

MC: So it’s settled, I’ll come find you on Sunday.

Kiro: Even though it’s your surprise, how could I let you be the one to look for me? Don’t worry, I’ll slip away secretly and pick you up!

Before I hang up, Kiro suddenly mutters apologetically.

Kiro: Actually, my phone wasn’t by my side just now. It was only after I took a call that I saw your message. Were you very anxious while waiting?

MC: It’s all right. I was thinking that if you didn’t reply, I would tell you that the time limit got extended by another hour…

Kiro: [laughs] Do you know that hearing you say that makes me really happy? Even happier than hearing about the mystery surprise!

Kiro’s tone is gentle, and I can almost see a golden retriever from the corner of my eye, wagging its tail and smiling at me.

Kiro: All right, so it’s settled.

Hanging up the phone, I find myself smiling. Kiro has always been bringing me to his secret hide-outs to recharge my batteries. This time, it’s my turn.

MC has already planned how Sunday would go. Judging from Kiro’s busy schedule, he wouldn’t have had the time to go flower viewing. He also wouldn’t be able to go to public flower viewing places, considering his celebrity status.

MC: Or else, one wouldn’t be able to tell whether the crowd is there to see the flowers or Kiro.

Sunday arrives. While waiting for Kiro, MC recalls how she asked her father’s friend, Uncle Gu, for permission to use his personal greenhouse. When she was younger, she would visit the large greenhouse and her worries would melt away when surrounded by the gorgeous flowers. 

Even though she is unsure if Kiro would be interested in flower viewing, she thinks the change of scenery should allow him to relax.

While she is deep in thought, someone covers her eyes from behind.

The coolness of a ring brushes against my cheek, carrying the scent of its owner.

MC: Kiro…

?: Who is Kiro? I’m the special prize winner of your mystery surprise.

Pushing away the hands that are covering my eyes, I turn around to see Kiro wearing a pair of sunglasses.

He has deep eye bags, but his tired-looking expression has an insuppressible grin. I lean towards him.

MC: You look so fatigued. Did you not rest well?

Hearing this, Kiro furrows his eyebrows, his blinking eyes full of grievances.

Kiro: Yeah, I haven’t slept for three nights, and I feel so dizzy…

He says this slowly, and I hurriedly stand on my tiptoes, wanting to test his temperature.

MC: We shouldn’t have come out then… could it be a fever…

I look into Kiro’s clear eyes. He lets out a grin, looking a sly squirrel.

MC: You tricked me!

I purse my lips, my face flushing as I turn to the side.

Kiro hurriedly grabs on to my sleeve, a pitiful expression on his face.

Kiro: Okay okay I was wrong, don’t be angry, all right?

Kiro appears in my line of sight no matter which direction I turn my head. Looking at me with his bright eyes, my temper disappears in an instant.

MC: Fine, I’m no longer angry… Kiro is such a childish ghost.

Without a trace of anger or shock, Kiro continues smiling.

Kiro: Yes, I’m a childish ghost, and Miss Chips is the cutest~

MC: You’re shameless…

Kiro: I’m not. Isn’t it normal for a man to reveal his childish side to the person he likes? I even thought you heard about this saying before…

Kiro seems a little disappointed. He mutters, pulling me into the car.

I turn to look at him and see his side profile bathed in sunlight. The layer of gold makes his entire form look lively, fresh, and beautiful.

Now silent, Kiro’s face has a look of maturity that wasn’t there before. My heart suddenly does a flip, and I try not to think about what he said just now.

They finally reach Uncle Gu’s place, but it has been refurbished with additional features, so they have to walk through an eerie tree-lined pathway. MC gets goosebumps and nervously holds his hand.

Kiro: Eh?

MC: This is to prevent someone from running away suddenly.

Kiro: That wouldn’t happen. I’m not scared at all.

Trying to prove his point, Kiro tightens his grip on my hand, with an expression which says that he is unfazed by any circumstances.

We hold each other’s hands tight and walk forward step-by-step.

Kiro stands in front of me slightly, as though prepared to defend me at any moment.

His actions remind me of our experience at the haunted house, which he specially brought me to to prove his bravery. This time round, he doesn’t seem as afraid, though his palms are still sweating.

As we continue down the long pathway, Kiro seems to become increasingly relaxed. While he walks, he sniffs the air, just like an animal following the scent of food.

MC: What are you smelling?

Kiro: Dummy! I’m smelling the flowers of course.

MC: I don’t think I mentioned the greenhouse as being the mystery surprise. Can you really smell it?

Kiro: Of course! Also, I’ve confirmed that this place has a gigantic patch of Monet. I can already smell it!

MC: Monet? Isn’t he an artist?

Kiro: Heh heh looks like you don’t know! Here, follow me!

Saying this, Kiro pulls me into a run.

We run through the long corridor of vines, pass by a few patches of colorful flowers, and finally stand in front of a small wooden door with “Rosa chinensis” written on it.

Pointing at the sea of pink flowers beyond the wooden door, his eyes are filled with satisfaction.

Kiro: I was right! Like I said, there are Monets here.

MC: You’re saying that the Rosa chinesis is called Monet?

Kiro: Right! These pink flowers with yellow streaks are called… let me think! Yes, Claude Monet! They smell really good!

MC takes a closer look at the flowers and realizes that the flowers have a fruity smell. She can understand how Kiro could recognize them from afar.

MC: Are you very knowledgeable about the Rosa chinesis?

Kiro: Yes! When I was studying in France, I was a volunteer at the Botanic Gardens. Because some things happened, there was a period of time when I couldn’t attend school. I spent my entire day in the Botanic Gardens, and I learnt a lot about the Rosa chinesis. For example, how they differ from roses, the different parts of the Rosa chinesis, and the different types… only then did I realise that the simple-looking Rosa chinesis could also be so beautiful.

MC: It shares the same name as the prolific artist Monet though.

Kiro: Mmhmm, I originally thought that it got its name because it shared the same colours as Monet’s paintings. Later on, I discovered that it was far from that.

MC: Eh? Then what’s the reason?

Kiro: The Monet flower is extremely strong against diseases. It can’t be destroyed no matter what diseases plague it. Instead, it blooms even more beautifully. Monet was also such an artist. I saw his letter in the museum and learnt that he didn’t have a good life. He was sick and poor. Even so, he could bring people warmth. He taught me that sunlight is the most meaningful thing in the world, and that all of us have the ability to make choices.

Kiro keeps his eyes on the flowers, his expression lifting into a smile. It’s a different smile from before – a genuine smile that belongs to him, a smile stemming from his innermost heart.

I suddenly feel like I’ve been transported several years back, and I can see a younger Kiro standing amid the flowers with a brilliant smile.

When I return to my senses, Kiro’s big eyes are less than ten centimeters away from me.

I instinctively shrink backwards, but Kiro reaches out for my shoulder.

Kiro: Why are you dazing off while looking at my face? Be honest, what are you thinking about?

MC: I… I was just thinking about how you’re similar to Monet. You’re always bringing people brightness and warmth.

While saying this, Kiro continues staring at me, his pure eyes looking into my heart.

That person whose entire body exudes light, and is always giving me strength… he should have such pure eyes.

Kiro laughs, his eyes crinkling.

Kiro: Monet spent his life chasing after the light. That’s where we differ. I’m even better than him, because I have already found my light.

He blinks at me, as though he is keeping a major secret, waiting for me to probe further.

I am slightly stunned and am unsure how to respond.

Kiro: Why aren’t you asking me what my light is?

[Note: At this moment, Kiro has that “I’ve been flirting with you for the past year, thanks for noticing” face]

Looking at his expression, I laugh and play along with him.

Kiro responds with a sentence in French, and I don’t understand it.

MC: What did you say?

Kiro: I’ll tell you if you dance with me.

MC: How does that even work... you were the one who prompted me to ask that question…

Acting on his own whims, Kiro lifts up my left hand while hooking onto my right hand, pulling me into a dancing posture.

MC: …eh?

In contrast to my surprise, Kiro’s face is beaming.

His lips curve upwards, like a squirrel hugging a pinecone tightly and showing it off to its friends with pride.

His blue eyes are glimmering, as though they contain the entire galaxy.

In the center of that galaxy are two tiny faces, each of them belonging to me.

The atmosphere seems to have shifted suddenly.

MC: What did you just say?

Kiro: I said, dance with me.

MC: No, I’m referring to that thing you said in French…

Before I even finish, Kiro leans close to my ear and mutters something incredibly quickly.

Kiro: It’s too late.

MC: Huh? What do you mean by that?

Kiro: I just told you the meaning, so it’s too late to reject me now.

What…

My ears start reddening. Even though this is a private greenhouse, I’m slightly embarrassed to dance here.

MC: You-

Kiro: What about me?

MC: There isn’t any music so we can’t dance!

I instantly regret once the words slip out of my mouth.

Kiro: Music?

Kiro blinks.

With a sly grin, he starts humming a tune.

Only after five notes, I have already guessed what tune he is humming.

MC: …the doll and teddy bear dance?

[Note: I went to check and it’s an actual song bless his pure heart] 

Kiro: Yep. Don’t you think it’s similar to our current situation? Miss Chips~

He stretches out the way he says “Miss Chips”, ending with a smile in his voice.

MC: Am I the teddy bear? Or the doll?

Kiro: [laughs] Of course…

Kiro purposefully drags out his answer, leading me into a slightly inaccurate rendition of ballroom dancing. He twirls me around.

Kiro: …you are my Miss Chips!

I am tickled by his words. The embarrassment I felt earlier vanishes without a trace.

MC: Fine… don’t blame me if I step on you.

Kiro: Don’t worry, it wouldn’t happen!

Where does Kiro’s confidence come from?

I understand once I cooperate and start dancing with him.

MC: Stop, stop, I’m not dancing any longer! My head’s going to explode from the twirling. How is this considered dancing?

The reason why Kiro was so sure I wouldn’t step on him is because this isn’t the ballroom dancing I envisioned at all! Most of the time I end up getting twirled around by Kiro.

Kiro: Don’t you know that this is a sort of dance too?

With a smile, he leans close to my ear, saying this clearly. Several blurry Kiros appear in my vision.

Kiro: Don’t you find this blurry feeling amazing? It’s like how people go to bars to get drunk.

MC: So you’re feeling great now?

His words seem to take on a deeper meaning, but I’m unable to grasp them in my dizzy state.

Kiro: Mm, incredibly happy!

Kiro nods his head vigorously.

MC: All right. At least all that twirling didn’t go to waste.

The main purpose of today was to help Kiro relieve stress. So as long as he’s happy, that’s fine.

My pride doesn’t matter, and the dizziness doesn’t matter!

With this thought in mind, I let out a laugh.

Kiro: What are you laughing at?

I see three sets of Kiros reaching out to me with three hands. However, I can only feel one hand on my forehead, tidying my fringe.

MC: Because I get to see you being genuinely happy.

Kiro: You’re happy when you see me happy?

Kiro’s voice is laced with anticipation.

MC: Of course I’m happy. Normally, you’re the one taking me to your secret hide-outs to recharge my batteries and relieve stress. It’s as though you hold all the sunlight in the world. But I’ve never asked whether you ever feel down. This time round, let me be your rubbish bin and get rid of your troubles. I want to peel away all the grey clouds that are blocking the sun.

While I’m saying this, Kiro stands in front of me quietly, watching me with his head slightly lowered. His expression is serious, and his eyes are focused and deep.

He looks like Kiro on the stage, yet not exactly so.

MC: Hmm… even though I don’t know what you’re troubled by, or what pressure you’re under, I can sense that it isn’t because of a creative block. If you don’t want to talk about it, or if you can’t tell me-

Before the words “it’s okay” leave my lips, I am scooped into a pair of incredibly warm arms.

Caught off guard, I fall into Kiro’s embrace.

I hear Kiro’s heartbeats, like a tiny drum, fast and without rhythm.

My heart feels ticklish, as though thousands of ants have crawled into it.

I feel sunlight on the top of my head. It’s so warm.

It’s almost noon and Kiro has to return to work. Why does time pass by so quickly?

Kiro: MC, why are you so adorable! I am really, very very very happy today!

He speaks incredibly slowly. Every “very” seems to carry with it the solemnity of experience and time.

Kiro: MC, thank you.          

MC: A-are you happy today? Did you like my mystery surprise?

Kiro: Mm! I love it! Today is Kiro’s second happiest day.

MC: Which is your first happiest day then?

Kiro: Well… I will keep that a secret for now. I’ll definitely tell you in the future.

He puts a lot of weight on the word “definitely”, making me think that the day in question is somehow related to me.

MC: You still haven’t told me what you said in French…

Kiro hugs me even more tightly, and his voice travels to my ear.

Kiro: MC, you are my light.

🍯

Phone call: here

[mooncademia]

Wishes Do Come True — PART 2.

PAIRING ~  Aizawa Shouta/reader  [Undercover heroes! inspo by bnha Vigilantes!]

GENRE ~ fluff

SUMMARY ~ Being an undercover cop has always been second nature to you, but after being paired up with Aizawa Shouta, your heart begins to wander slightly off track. With an unexpected occasion coming up, you’ve realized that you really are falling for the angler-hero. Cue the butterflies!

AUTHOR’S NOTE ~ Part 2 of wdct is here!!! I honestly love this part with all my heart and I hope you all like it as well. I have fulfilled my daydream’s request 😌 Enjoy reading!! 

Ps: this story is inspired by BNHA Vigilantes, and includes two minor characters (no spoilers) but just a heads up! 

Here is Part 1 ! 

*Buzz buzz!*

You checked your phone:  

[Momo]

— Sorry, Y/N! 😣🙏🏼 I have a meeting tonight but we DEFINITELY need to meet up another day for sure. Happy Birthday! I love you~!

You turned off your phone and groaned as you fell back to your couch. That was the fourth cancellation from one of your friends.

Today was the day before your birthday and you planned to invite some friends over for an exciting birthday countdown. However, your expectations did not meet your reality after your last friend canceled. You stared at your phone’s black screen.

You understood your friends’ reasoning of course, but you had to admit: you felt a bit disappointed knowing that you are going to spend another birthday by yourself…again. You didn’t 100% mind since you have always been the independent type ever since you moved to Tokyo away from your parents by yourself. You knew how to take care of yourself and you knew your responsibilities—it shaped the person you are now today!

You sat up and crossed your legs together. You wore a pair of high-waisted flared jeans with a long creamed colored turtle neck. You covered your face with your hair that has been let down (and slightly styled for the special occasion) and you tapped on your vintage black block-heeled boots. You rested your chin on your hand as you stared at the birthday cake that sat on the coffee table in front of you in which you had prepared for yourself. The plan was to gather all your loved ones around as you blow out the candles when the clock strikes midnight but…you knew that won’t be happening.

This definitely sucked.

You sighed with a tinge of sadness but shook your head out of your solemn daze.

Snap out of it! It is only a few hours until I’m one year older today and I can’t spend my last day like this. You forced a smile to yourself.

So what you had to spend your birthday alone? Actually, maybe it is better off this way—you’ve been so busy with missions and meetings, today you could actually spend a few hours to yourself in peace before you get back into work.

Hope rose as you planned out other things to do. A walk around the neighborhood to clear your mind, maybe? You got up and gathered your things: your keys on the door hook, your black blazer sitting on your couch, and your black purse on the dining table. A good brisk evening walk will make you feel better you thought to yourself.

But as you prepared to turn your doorknob, your doorbell rang.

Huh? You questioned yourself as you made your way to the door, wondering who could it be since all your friends already informed you about their notice.

You opened the door only to see a man in all black attire and gray scarf dangling around his neck. His half-lidded eyes looked up to yours and you sputtered out in surprise. “Aizawa?”

He responded with a grumpy grunt, as always, with his hands tucked into his pockets.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

You didn’t call Aizawa to come over because you knew too well that he found public celebrations (or maybe any celebrations at all) a bit displeasing. Plus, since it was a day off, you thought you should let him get his rest.

Yet here he was, standing in front of you, looking at your neatly readied clothes and the black purse slung on your shoulder and realizing that you were just about to head out.

You noticed him peer over your shoulder, darting his sight at the empty living room behind you.

“No one’s here?” He responded instead. His voice sounded surprised and you turned your head behind you following his gaze, staring at your cold empty living room in which the only sign that people will know that it would be a birthday celebration was from your cake that was randomly propped on your coffee table.

This is embarrassing you thought to yourself.

“Oh…uhm yeah, things didn’t really work out as I planned…” you said, your voice slowly going quiet when you finished. You let out a deep sigh.

You probably didn’t hide your sorrow well enough because as you turned to look back at Aizawa, his expression flashed a concerned look. He let out a puff of air, almost like a scoff, and stepped into your house without your proper invitation. He walked over to your couch and randomly began packing your birthday cake back to its designated box, along with tucking in some red candles that you placed beside.

Your mind barely fully registered what he was doing. “Aizawa, I’m guessing you came for my birthday, and I am by far very much grateful, but what the HECK are you doing to my birthday cake?”

“You’re sad. Even if you go out, you’ll come back to an empty room.”

“Gee, thanks for reminding me.”

He walked towards you. “Come on… let’s go celebrate your birthday together then. Somewhere else, it’ll be…fun,” he said, carefully rolling out the last word “fun” as if the word was completely foreign to him.

You looked back at him in astonishment. You know Aizawa almost never volunteers to do things like this, but you could see it in his stone-cold eyes that he meant every word he said. Your heart stupidly fluttered at his invitation and you locked your elbows cheekily with his, causing him to widen his eyes for just a few seconds from your quick action, but then smile softly when he saw you blush.

“Well then sir,” you said sarcastically in a low voice, pushing away all sad thoughts. “I guess you have a destination then! Lead the way!”

And with that, you both walked down the streets of your house, shoulder-to-shoulder. The sky was getting dark and the yellow street lights glowed softly as you two passed. You lived near a train station so you could occasionally hear the train bustling away ahead of you. The two of you walked in silence for a moment and well…despite the unplanned occasion, you were really grateful Aizawa actually came; definitely surprised at first but his soft side (that he will probably never admit!) snatched your heart yet again.

The two of you continued to walk down through the neighborhood until you came across a familiar street.

“The Hotta Brother’s shop?” You questioned when you turned at a corner.

“Yeah,” Aizawa said in a husky voice.

Ok, to be perfectly honest: you weren’t really sure how the Hotta Brother’s Cafe was going to turn your birthday into an occasion, but you didn’t really care at that point.

Once the two of you walked towards to shop, you saw the “CLOSING” sign hung up on the door.

You pointed at the sign. “Oh…?”

“It’s okay, I have a key.” Aizawa pulled out a key from his pocket and opened the door with a sharp click.

“Do the brothers know you have their key?”

“Of course,” he replied. Then he grinned at you. “They just forgot that I haven’t returned it to them yet.”

You put your hands on your hips and shook your head in disbelief. “Eraser, you sly sly man.”

“Surprised?” He said with a wicked grin.

You smirked. “Not the least bit.”

You flicked the switch of the lights once you entered the shop. It was actually still remodeling and there were actually cardboard boxes everywhere—not exactly screaming “SPECIAL OCCASION” in your head.

You were about to sit down on the chair that you usually sit whenever you had one of your morning undercover meetings, but Aizawa stopped you with a raise of his hand and told you to follow him.

In the far back of the cafe, there were stairs that led up to the second floor that you didn’t know. Usually in meetings, you just sit on your reserved table (which consists of two wooden stools and a green camping crate placed in the middle which served as the table, fancy amirite?!) The two of you walked up to the stairs which led to an eerie empty room that made you raise a brow, but then you saw where Aizawa was walking towards to.

The second floor led right outside to a patio and once you spotted it, you sucked in a breath. The patio ramp wasn’t too low nor too high, and it was those ramps that had wide bars, allowing you to see the whole neighborhood along with the beautiful evening-blue sky that stared above you.

Aizawa set down your cake on a table and swung open the patio door. Before stepping outside he muttered a ‘wait a minute', and quickly darted down the stairs only to come back up with a large gray blanket and wait…was that his yellow sleeping bag?

“Oh Eraser, don’t tell me you literally take naps at Hotta’s Shop?”

“Of course I take naps here.” He shrugged casually as if that was the most ordinary thing. He laid the large blanket along with his yellow sleeping bag down out on the patio and invited you to sit. You sat down with your legs crossed and Aizawa carefully pulled out the cake, setting it on top of the box for good height.

The two of you were seated facing each other, with the small cake separating you both.

You leaned your head against the patio railing and Aizawa stared up at the late evening sky.

It was quiet for a moment, but the two of you didn’t mind. There were birds chirping even at this late of an hour and the two of you enjoyed the cooling breeze and neighborhood view.

“Hey,” you said, breaking the silence, your voice coming out almost as a whisper.

You stared at the cake in front of you. It was a vanilla strawberry cake with whipped cream frosting—your favorite kind and it was a tradition to buy this kind of cake on your birthday.

You looked up at Aizawa.

“Thank you…” You began. “For this. For…for actually coming here to celebrate my birthday with me. You know, when I realized no one could make it this evening, I was a bit devastated, and well, you came along and it really…” You shined a smile at him. “It really meant a lot, so thanks.”

He nodded and shrugged. “It’s nothing really. It’s almost your birthday, it’s a celebration ought to be celebrated with the person, right? Plus…you seemed quite disappointed at the empty room…” He said generously, the last few words coming out as a tiny mutter. The moment felt warm and a few times while sitting down, you had to remind yourself that this wasn’t an undercover act, nor was it a false persona you two were trying to pretend to be.

This was genuine. This was authentic.

You beamed happily, forever touched at his statement. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” He smiled at you—the kind of smile that makes your heart skip a beat and wonder internally how handsome he can possibly get.

You stared down at your cake and reached out to tucked the candles carefully through the thick puffy cream. The night was getting darker now but thankfully the streetlights were able to cast some light through the patio. Aizawa flicked a match to light the candles and the two of you sang happy birthday (mainly you because Aizawa was too embarrassed to sing, how cute you thought!).

You stared at the now lighted candles. Watching the fire made your eyes soft and so you shut them and folded your hands together to make a wish. Aizawa stared at you closely, watching your peaceful expression as the flames danced in the air. You grew quiet, making a wish and when you opened your eyes, you blew all the candles out in a single blow.

“What did you wish for?” Aizawa asked curiously as you cut him a piece of cake.

You squinted your eyes at him. “I can’t tell you that! Or else it won’t come true.” You teased, taking a bite of the cake. Even though you buy the same exact cake every birthday, the taste never failed to disappoint you. The cream blended with the cake ever so perfectly, having the perfect balance of sweetness. You darted your eyes at Aizawa and you were pleased that he seemed to enjoy the cake as well. While you ate, you began to talk to him about your day and how you have been feeling lately—from miscellaneous troubles to simple pleasures of life.

“Don’t you think ice cream tastes better when the weather is cold?” You pointed out as you took another bite of the cake, your fork dangling on your lips.

“How so?” Aizawa asked. He laid his back against the railing with his elbows propped up.

“Hmm…” you tapped the fork on your lips pondering. “I don’t know, maybe it’s because it isn’t melting on the road, or it soothes the sore throat.”

“Y/N, I don’t think that’s a logical reasoning.” He replied coldly which only made you burst out laughing.

You sigh happily. “Ah, you and your logical reasonings,” you pointed your fork at him. “One day, you’ll get what I mean!”

You continued on talking about your life, even getting deep into some parts of your childhood life that you have never told anyone. But somehow, it didn’t feel weird or uncomfortable at all. In fact, it felt strangely right.

Sometimes you’ll stop mid-talk, questioning if you are hogging all the conversation to yourself, but whenever you do, Aizawa nudges you to continue with a “Go on” or “Continue, I want to know what happened” comment. And so you continue on, knowing he was listening intently with his nods and eye contact. You will ask him questions about his life and he will share his own life, not as detailed as yours, but enough to make you feel more personally connected with him.

——————

You closed the now empty cake box and cleaned up the plates, putting them aside. You sat comfortably on the blanket and you realized how late it was when you looked up. You could see the fluorescent moon peeking above the sky, but the streetlights illuminated the area just enough that you could still see clearly.

A cold breeze flushed over you, tickling the back of your neck as you rubbed your gloveless hands together. Aizawa noticed you shivering just a bit and adjusted his seat so he’s sitting right next to you. You initially thought it wouldn’t make a difference but you could feel a warm heat radiating off his body. You muttered a small thank you and Aizawa responded with a grunt and a nod.

Your cheeks started to feel warmer and warmer as you observed the handsome outlines of his face next to you—his hair was down, hanging attractively on his hero gray scarf. You opened your mouth about to say something.

You had something in your mind that you’ve been wanting to say for a pretty long time. And usually, you will tuck these thoughts away in your mind telling yourself that they are way too silly.

But ever since the last undercover mission in Tokyo…you’ve felt different. Like something has just finally clicked in your head.

Though, on the other hand, you debated to yourself whether if it is a good idea to say the thing that has been lingering in your mind.

What if he freaks out, or gets mad? You wonder to yourself but you blinked your eyes to sway those thoughts away.

The moment felt right. It was a sensation you couldn’t quite describe or explain, but you knew deep down in your heart that it’ll be okay.

“Hey,” you turned your head to him. “I have something I’ve been wanting to say, for a while now actually.”

You propped your knees up, you almost felt like hugging them but you didn’t want to act immature or too childish because you were serious. You were an undercover cop, a confession won’t bite!

You took a deep breath and looked at him in the eye and he nodded at you to continue.

“I……like you,” you confessed slowly, paying deadly close attention to Aizawa’s facial expression. You could hear your heartbeat drumming in your ears and everything felt like it was going in slow motion.

Aizawa raised his eyebrows in surprise and then closed his eyes, his original calm facade slowly returning.

Your heartbeat stopped, confused at his calm reaction. You wondered to yourself if you literally messed up right then and there.

But Aizawa then looked at you.

“I like you too, Y/N.”

You opened your mouth but then shut it at once when you caught the tone of his voice. His tone was almost too casual and you questioned if he actually got the message you were trying to give.

Oh gosh, did he really misinterpret what I was saying?

“Aizawa Shouta,” you patted his knee almost mother-like as you leaned closer. “As much as I love your logical and rational brain and how amazingly useful it is, I don’t mean just like, I mean like… LIKE-like— oh god this is not going so—oh!”

Before you could even finish your sentence, Aizawa lifts up your chin, leaned forward, and crashed his lips against yours. The surprised made you jump, completely shell-shock as your eyes widened. But sooner or later, you melted in almost immediately. The vanilla-creamed birthday cake tasted so much sweeter in his mouth and you instantly melted. It was a soft, delicate kiss and you felt a new chill down your spine. The kiss was delicate yet full of passion. Sensitive yet not so sensitive. You closed your eyes, feeling his warm touch but then opened them when he parted away.

This wasn’t a dream.

This was no undercover act.

This was real.

Did Aizawa just kiss me? The thought raced in your mind when you opened your eyes, your heartbeat pounding uncontrollably violently in your chest.

Aizawa leaned back with a smile on his lips. But it wasn’t the kind of smile that was sweet and innocent, it was a cocky one. The one that exerted dominance and passion, and you stared at him in disbelief.

There were so many things you wanted to say but your mind moved faster than your mouth and when you two parted, the only thing you could blurt out was a confused “Huh?”

Aizawa chuckled, his eyes flashing with vibrancy and happiness. He leaned forward to tuck a fallen strand of hair behind your right ear.

“Y-you like like me?” You asked in such a high and dumb pitch you wished you could think before you opened your mouth.

“If that kiss didn’t convince you enough, do you want another one?” He said ever so smoothly and calming.

A true freakin’ tease.

“I like you a lot, Y/N,” he said to you. “I thought you knew, I tried to give hints.”

“Hints?” You sputtered out with a laugh combined. “Eraser, I’m not quite sure I remember receiving any hints.”

As much as you knew Aizawa’s personality and attitude, you couldn’t read his emotional mind, and the thought of him trying to make moves made you giggle.

“Then maybe next time I ought to try harder then,” he advised.

You leaned forward and gave him an impulsive kiss on the lips again and put your palm over his hand.

“There won’t be a next time, but I’m…I’m so glad.” You smiled at him, you almost felt your eyes tearing up, not quite yet believing that this is real but at the same time, feeling a sense of remarkable relief and glee.

“Me too,” he replied, mirroring your expression with a grin.

You were overwhelmed with joy and euphoria, your head barely even processing that this was actually happening, but you didn’t want to miss any bit. And with that thought, you grabbed his black shirt gently and pulled him down for another kiss. But this kiss was different: there was a hint of lust, eagerness perhaps, but Aizawa kissed you back ever so passionately and you could feel a smile on his lips as you both pulled away, breathing slightly bit heavier.  

After the kiss, the two of you leaned back with backs against the patio door, and you laid your head on Aizawa’s shoulder staring at the night sky and full moon. It was silent, but there was this warm tingling energy surrounding you two, you didn’t need spoken words to make you feel this wonderful.

“What do you want to do now?” Aizawa asked beside you.

You intertwined your fingers with his and smiled at him. “Hmm… let’s just stay here for now, look at the moon, enjoy the quiet.” You cuddled up next to Aizawa, making him tensed at first but seeing your comforting smile, he wrapped you around his arm gently. This is why he liked you. You didn’t need anything extra or any wild excitement to please you. Instead, what pleased you the most was the mundane things—the simple ones. Nature, late-night talks, or randomly sitting out on the patio this late evening eating a birthday cake as you stared at the now starry sky.

“Thank you for the best birthday gift ever.” You added softly.

“Oh,” Aizawa said as he reached down his pocket and pulled out a small black box. “I almost forgot, here’s your birthday present.”

“Eh? You got me a present?” You saw Aizawa nodded and you sat straight up excitingly.

You carefully opened the black box and gasped in shock.

It was a watch.

Not just any watch, a very beautiful, dainty, vintage watch—with a golden oval rim and a dark brown leather strap. The numbers of the clock were in roman numerals and the hands had a unique vintage touch to it.

The kind of style you loved.

How did you know? You wondered in astonishment as you took the watch out of its casing and wrapped it around your left wrist immediately.

You awed.

It was so beautiful and touching and you reached your hand out to the sky, admiring the new accessory fully. How did Aizawa even find these kinds of vintage watches? They were a real rarity in Japan, not exactly something you go out and instantly spot. The last one you had was gifted to you by your mother, and it not only cost quite a bit but it took her weeks to actually find a genuine vintage watch.

The thought of that made your cheeks burn as you realized how much time Aizawa actually invested and cared.

“Aizawa,” You exclaimed. “Oh my goodness, thank you so much. How did- When did-“

You let out a breath, words couldn’t even explain how touched you were.

“You like it?” Aizawa said almost embarrassingly. You saw a tint of pink on his cheeks and you gaped.

“Like it? I LOVE it! This is perfect, truly. How can I ever return the favor?”

“A kiss perhaps?” He shrugged.

You smiled at him and leaned forward to share another passionate kiss. A soft thank you passed your lips as you parted away.

And as if by unspoken agreement, the two of you laid together, backs against the patio door but snuggled up by his old yellow sleeping bag that settled on top of your laps. You rested your head on his shoulder, staring at the night sky.

The two of you just stayed like that: cuddling up underneath the stars, talking about the most random things, enjoying each other’s warmth. A few times, you’ll glance at your new watch and admire it from a distance with Aizawa’s laugh in the background, being so relieved that you liked it.

And after a while, silence enters, but it wasn’t the tiniest bit awkward or uncomfortable. You actually really enjoyed it. It felt as if time stopped and you could enjoy the simple things of life peacefully. You could hear Aizawa’s rhythmic heartbeat and feel his chest go up and down from his breathing. You stared at the moonlight peaking through the faded clouds, and with the dim light and the presence of Aizawa next to you, your eyelids grew heavier and you eventually slowly drifted to an unexpected sleep.

—————

You woke up with three figures standing right in front of you, but with the sun hitting so brightly, your mind couldn’t fully process who exactly was there. You groaned a little bit, your back aching from the position you were in. You squinted at the bright sunshine hitting down on you.

Your neck was comfortably propped up by a soft pillow and your body was covered by not only Aizawa’s sleeping bag also another soft quilted blanket.

How you managed to get under a blanket and a pillow? You had no idea. Maybe Aizawa prepared it, but it was then you realized that you were wrapped under his arm and he was still snoring softly, ignoring the commotion that was clearly happening.

You nudged him softly and he gently released you, squinting his eyes just a tiny bit from the light. The sight made your heart awed. His bed-headed black raven hair covered his face in the cutest way possible.

But when your mind finally made out the figures standing right above you, you gasped in shock.

Your cheeks flushed. “Jiro! Ichiro! Oh…we fell asleep, I-“

“My god, you’ve been here all night?” Jiro Hotta exclaimed with his arms crossed and his brother, Ichiro Hotta shaking his head in disbelief next to him.

Yup, it couldn’t get any more embarrassing from here.

You widened your eyes and shook your hands wildly. “We just came here to talk and we sort of just fell asleep, but that’s it.”  

“Kissed a couple times,” Aizawa muttered with his eyes still closed.

Both men gasped in shock.

You glared back at Aizawa next to you and you could see a sly smile creeping up his face. Clearly, despite not being a morning person, he managed to let those specific words slip out of his mouth just like that.

You glared at the man beside you. “Aizawa, NOT helping!”

The patio door was wide opened and you swore the Hotta Brothers’ eyes could pop out in minute now given their shock expression.

Jiro Hotta closed his eyes and shook his head with a palm on his forehead and said, “Wait wait wait, let me get this straight. The two of you barged into our shop, walked into our second floor, and stayed here all night?”

“AND YOU TWO KISSED?!?!” Ichiro Hotta looked at Aizawa who was still comfortably snuggled up beside you snoring softly.

You palmed the back of your neck and smiled wearily. “Uhm…kinda like that?”

“KINDA?!” The Hotta Brothers exclaimed in unison.

Ichiro Hotta stomped his foot. “Our shop is a second-hand shop—“

“Didn’t you guys also used to trade illegal drugs for balding and erectile dysfunction here too?” You pointed out with an eyebrow arched up.

The Hotta brothers gave each other an awkward side-eye. “Uh..THAT'S NOT THE POINT! What I mean is that this is not a place for…” Ichiro shuddered in disgust. “For love-making.”

“We just kissed!”

“Sureee…” Jiro Hotta said sarcastically with a roll of his eyes, truly not convinced by your statement.

Oh boy, you thought. Today was really going to be an interesting day.

—————

It wasn’t long for the Hotta Brothers to scramble back downstairs. After a quick apology from you (you did kind of barged into their shop during the middle of the night) and a cold remark from Aizawa (nothing too threatening! Just a “if you brothers keep making a racket, I swear I will…” He may have slipped a cursed word here and there). But hearing Aizawa’s comment made the Hotta Brothers freeze in their tracks and grumble as they scrambled downstairs, making you slip out a giggle.

The sun shined brightly above you and Aizawa and when peered down at him with his eyes still closed, you smiled.

You scooted your feet under the blanket and crawled under Aizawa’s arm in which he gladly accepted.

Aizawa opened one eye to peek down at you.

“Happy birthday,” he said in a husky, morning voice.

You leaned forward to give him a peck on his cheek. “Why, thank you.”

Aizawa hummed back in response and pulled you closer. The scruffness on his chin tickled your skin which made you giggled out loud. You could feel his warm exhale and you just stared at him from below, admiring all his features once more.

“It's not nice to stare at people, Y/N.” He said with his eyes still closed.

“Well, you are quite the handsome man, how can I not?” You teased.

“Rrrreally.”

“Really.” You confirmed.

You pulled him closer and rested your head on his chest. The sun was bright and warm and you could hear the chirping of the birds and the shuffling of shoes below on the sidewalk. Everything was just right.

You smiled happily and closed your eyes, but it wasn’t for long for Aizawa to shift his body and begin placing kisses on your neck, making you giggle once more from the ticklelish touch.

*Buzz buzz!*

Aizawa abruptly stopped and you reached over to the side to grab your phone. You pressed the home button to find a notification from Officer Tsukauchi.

“Oh, it’s an update from Tsukauchi.” You announced.

You swiped your phone to read the text message.

[Tsukauchi]

— This Tuesday’s mission is at Ikebukuro station, but slight switch of plans.

— We might need to do the couple's persona again instead of the sales act.

You smiled when you read the text as you sat up with Aizawa.

“It seems like this week’s mission, we gotta be couples again.” You said with a wink.

Aizawa let out a breath from his nose and gently leaned over, making you fall on your back with a cute yelp. He locked your wrists above your head and peered down at you with a wicked smile on his face.

“Well, that will be quite easy,” he said to you from above.

You gave out a charming laugh and smiled. “It sure will. Now, just kiss me already.”

With that, Aizawa leaned down to give you a kiss on the lips. It was romantic in all ways possible, but it wasn’t too long until the Hotta Brothers came back up with coffee in their hands and cursed out loud a “WHAT THE ACTUAL-!!” when they saw you on your back with Aizawa hovering over you as you both kissed. You were sure half of the coffee was spilled to the ground.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N” Aizawa murmured to you, ignoring the brothers inside.

Happiness bubbled inside you as you melted in his words.

So maybe birthday wishes do come true.

As you stared into his eyes, you realized now is a moment for bliss. Perhaps more cuddling and kissing ahead, along with inexorable shouting from the Hotta Brothers, but you wouldn’t want to celebrate your birthday any other way.

This was already…perfect.

A/N: After reading Vigilantes, I love the Hotta Brothers so freakin’ much, they are such a humorous duo! And of course, we all love Aizawa’s rational-minded butt ;) Ever so thankful to all who read WDCT pt. 2, please don’t hesitate to comment or leave a message! I swear I’m sending a virtual hug to every one of you who took the time to read this fic 😭💞  Have a wonderful day everyone, and stay safe! 

[merryfortune]

Gachaplum

Written for 100ships Challenge on Dreamwidth

Prompt #77 Plum

Ship: Rocksaltshipping | Kureha/Spectre

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS

Word Count: 2,143

Rating: G

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Tags: Fluff, Self Indulgen, Inspired by a Tweet

   “Are you enjoying your drink?” Spectre asked conversationally.

   “Yep.” Kureha chirped around her straw.

   The drink in question was a tropical iced tea with strawberry bursties as the bottom. It was sharply sweet, right to the core of her teeth, and that’s exactly how Kureha liked it. However it, in combination with the empty tote bag Spectre was carting around, was a horrible omen to Kureha. Her boba tea had been the only non-necessary treat that Spectre had bought for either of them and clearly he meant for impulse purchases, otherwise he wouldn’t have brought a bag.

   But Kureha, with a little bit of dread and unuttered complaint, supposed that’s the kind of guy Spectre was. He was very mission oriented and put his organisation above himself. Today’s mission was grocery shopping, as mundane as that sounded but since Spectre and the others could be at sea for weeks on end, grocery shopping was huge and important. So, even though Spectre was empty handed right now, he had already spent big at the restaurant they had visited earlier and before that, at the luxury grocery shop they went to where they bought in bulk and would have it delivered to the docks for the Lieutenants to unpack.

   And Kureha had been lucky enough to tag along since this was a somewhat rare opportunity for her and Spectre to hang out in real life. But what was the point of hanging out if they weren’t doing anything special? Kureha agaonised, maybe it was her fault for assuming it would be a date. Then again, they also had a fancy lunch together so maybe it was a date. This was too confusing, Kureha scolded herself. Besides, it's not like she wasn’t enjoying herself. She really was and that was probably the main thing but she wanted Spectre to enjoy himself too.

   They had a delicious lunch at a Thai restaurant that had excellent decor and a wide range of food. They ordered a plate of their favourites each yet somehow ended up sharing their meals and soft drinks anyway. It had been wonderful, even if Kureha got a runny nose afterwards and that was a little bit embarrassing but Spectre didn’t bring it up, thankfully - except to rib her that even how she blew her nose was cute. Then, once they had had their lunch, it was time to get to business and Spectre had a very long shopping list.

   He took her to a grocery shop inside of a mall with a celebrity level atmosphere. It was stocked with items and brands that Kureha had never heard of because they were so, so, so expensive and yet, he handpicked what he needed from them without so much as a blink at the price tag. Though, he did assure her that he and the other Knights had already budgeted to a tee so there was nothing to worry about. He was in and out rather swiftly, hardly looking at all the things that Kureha was certainly dawdling out and once he was done, he had his things whisked off and taken to be shipped off within the hour by truck.

   With the shopping done, they had begun to exit the mall where Kureha had gotten thirsty and she had a keen eye for spotting cute and quirky shops that sold even cuter and quirkier drinks. Spectre had been more than happy to pay for her boba tea, even though she offered and it was very sweet of him but did make Kureha feel a little guilty since, again, that one drink had been the only splurge Spectre had allowed himself and it wasn’t even for him.

   Now they were just sort of wandering along, making light conversation whilst Kureha finished her drink. They were sort of on the look out for a tram line or bus that would put them on a route where Spectre could drop off Kureha close to home and then continue back to the mariner but it was difficult since their homes were such polar opposites to another. Though, given that Kureha wasn’t quite ready to end this not quite and maybe it actually was a date-date, it was something of a blessing in disguise so they got to take in the sights of this precinct.

   There were all sorts of pretty and intriguing buildings, the paths were lovely and well kempt without a nary crack or dip. The road was fairly busy with cars, taxis, and buses but it was the sidewalks which were busier with people coming to and fro. It was almost overwhelming with all the interesting things to see and do but even so, Kureha kept her eyes peeled for something - anything - that might just serve to prolong the inevitable and then she saw it: a bookshop.

   Out of nowhere, to Spectre at least, Kureha grabbed his arm and tugged on it. He pulled back and twisted round to scold Kureha, a scowl on his face but Kureha was already prepared with the best puppy dog eyes she could plead with.

   “I want to check out that bookshop, please.” she begged.

   Spectre’s scowl softed, “That sounds fine.”

   “Yay.” Kureha smiled.

   Kureha pointed out the bookshop that she had spotted and Spectre escorted her there. Although, once inside the pristinely white doors, they sort of split off. Not that Kureha minded, that was sort of her plan. Spectre was a bookworm, albeit an incredibly fussy one, so maybe he would find something in here to read and even buy for himself whilst Kureha was mostly killing time. Mainly by trying to covertly stalk Spectre from the manga section whilst he investigated the language arts section a few rows of books over.

   She held her breath, whilst trying her best not to get distracted by the latest volumes of a few series of manga that she had been keeping up with, as Spectre pulled out various books… only to all but immediately put them back once he was done looking at their backs. It was a little bit disappointing. Kureha sighed and her eyes downcast to a shiny new volume of her favourite manga but if Spectre refused to buy things for himself, so would she so she scuttled in closer to Spectre again across the floor of the bookshelf.

   “See anything interesting?” Kureha asked.

   “I’m considering learning French or Spanish as a hobby but I’m not sure which would best extend my current literacy skills so I think I’ll do more research before branching out from bilingualism to multilingualism.” Spectre replied.

   “Fair enough.” Kureha murmured.

   “Are you ready to go?” Spectre asked. “You seem equally empty handed as me.”

   “I saw a few things but nah.” Kureha shrugged.

   “Understandable,” Spectre said, “well, would you like to keep going on our way home?”

   Kureha fidgetted, “Yeah, that’s fine.” she murmured.

   Spectre made an odd expression but it was only the briefest flicker, Kureha was lucky to have caught it. Regardless, they did move on and left the book shop, unsuccessful on all fronts. Maybe their date had just run its course in the most uneventful way possible.

   As they walked, Spectre checked his phone and noticed that they should be getting close to a good spot where it would be easy for them to find public transport to suit both their needs. At least according to the maps app that he was looking at, anyway so he had his fingers crossed that it ought to be somewhat helpful even if it wasn’t entirely accurate or true to life. Kureha smiled and agreed. At least she would have part of a bus trip left to spend with Spectre before woosh. 

   Back to video calls and texts as their only form of contact. It was nice, Kureha didn’t mean to complain, she did genuinely enjoy getting photographs of how Spectre’s plants were going and sending him back the homework she was struggling with but quality time was nicer. At the very least, Kureha wanted a memento of what little quality time they did get and a receipt from a Thai restaurant hardly counted.

   Then, once more, in a complete stroke of luck, Kureha’s eye was caught by something that she saw. Not the building - it was just a generic convenience store - but by what adorned it: gachapon machines. Her face split into a huge grin and once more, Kureha grabbed Spectre’s arm and tugged on it.

   “Yes?” Spectre said through gritted teeth at Kureha’s prompt.

   “I want to use the lucky dip machines. Please, please, please: look, this one has plushies for that virtual pet game I like.” Kureha begged, clutching Spectre’s arm desperately, and her hazelly-green eyes were sparkling so how on Earth was Spectre meant to resist all of that?

   The answer, of course, was that he couldn’t. Though, he did give a long suffering sigh, he did let Kureha pull him aside as she used the gachapon machine that she saw outside the convenience store that they had been passing by.

   “Would you like me to give you some loose change?” Spectre asked as he stood next to it, trying to look like a mature adult whilst his girlfriend was very much happy to enjoy her childish side.

   “No, I’m right, I’ve got it covered.” Kureha said as she dug out her wallet from her handbag. She put in more than enough coins for herself and for Spectre, too. If he refused to treat himself then Kureha was going to force whatever thing she got from it.

   She turned the crank a handful of times and heard the plastic balls rattle inside deep within the machine. Kureha smiled as she waited for the internal mechaninations to stop and then she opened up the flap. She grinned as she held onto both lucky dips that she had bought.

   “Here you go, you can have this one.” Kureha said as she forced Spectre to take one of them.

   Spectre made an unamused expression as he let Kureha put an orange-coloured plastic ball in his hand, “And what am I meant to do with this?”

   “Open it and let’s see.” Kureha replied and she demonstrated, as though Spectre didn’t already know how to open a gachapon.

   She struggled, a little bit, but eventually got the two halves of her purple plastic ball to split open. She squealed in joy as she unveiled her mystery toy. It had a keyring so she threaded her finger through it and swirled the toy itself off her finger. The little plushie that she had won took the form of a felt, anthropomorphic plum with American style cartoon features adorned with a stitched on ribbon bow.

   “This is Plum and she’s my favourite of the virtual fruit pets.” Kureha said.

   Somewhere in the back of Spectre’s mind, that did ring a bell. Kureha might have sent screenshots to him of her virtual pet habit and an animated cartoon plum may have been one of them. So, his expression of bemusement faded and turned to surrender. He opened up his gachapon too but Kureha was way more excited than him regarding it.

   “I got…” Spectre idly commentated and was mildly surprised by his lucky dip. “I got Plum, too.”

   “Wow, what’re the odds?” Kureha laughed.

   Spectre’s eyes flicked to the poster plastered to the inside of the gachapon machine that displayed which possible toy was possible to win, “Well, it looks like there are seven characters and we got two, so it was likely a one in fourteen chance assuming all the characters are present in equal measure inside the machine.” he said.

   “I didn’t mean it literally.” Kureha laughed even harder.

   Spectre smiled a small smile and began to inspect his plush Plum. He thought it was kind of ugly, to be honest, but if Kureha liked it then he could perhaps entertain some fondness for it. The felt was a bit too coarse for his liking.

   “I’ll be sure to look after this.” Spectre murmured.

   Kureha blinked and her heart fluttered, “Really?” she exclaimed softly.

   “Of course,” Spectre said, “it's a precious gift from my precious Kureha. I will treasure it.” He put his own finger through the keyring at the top of the small toy’s head and then put his hand on Kureha’s shoulder, the toy bumping between them. Spectre leaned in and kissed Kureha’s forehead. “I promise to treasure it.” His words brushed over Kureha’s skin like a flower’s petal.

   Kureha’s face went bright red upon being kissed, “I’ll treasure mine too.” she eked out in a tiny voice.

   “That goes without saying, my silly darling.” Spectre replied and he pulled back. “Come on, we’ve had a long date already, don’t you think? Aren’t you ready to go home yet?”

   “I’m ready now.” Kureha said, smiling huge and holding onto her little toy.

[edensbuttercups]

Valentine’s day - (Jaskier x reader)

Pairing: Jaskier x reader

Prompt: based on @caritobbg’s ask (x) ❤️

A/N: Happy Valentine’s day everybody! ❤️

You waited patiently for the cue to walk onto the stage. You smiled as you looked at your friends, all as excited as you were. “Five minutes, girls.” called someone, signaling to stay ready.

You nodded, taking the chance to thing back of everything that happened in the past four years, leading you to this exact moment.

You looked up, smiling at Geralt and Yen, ignoring their words as you looked for your boyfriend, spotting him on the stage. You waved happily, noticing a second too late what was actually going on. His lips touching someone else’s, his arms held still for a moment before wrapping around the other person as they fell to the floor, laughing after a moment as the whole world seemed to stay still. You took a step back, feeling the tears stream out of your eyes as Yen tried to stop you from running away.

“Let me explain!” he shouted through the door. You packed your things quietly, glancing at the clock and mentally calculating how long you had before your flight. You sat on the bed for a second, blocking out everything he was saying through the door and smiling fondly at your small apartment. You’d miss it, but you needed to go. You couldn’t stay, and since the chance arose, it was time to take it. You draped your jacket over your body, wrapping your scarf around your neck and opening the door, suitcase dragging behind you. “Wait! What you saw, it… wait, where are you going?”

“I took the chance, Jask. I’m leaving.” “Without allowing me to explain?”

“Yes. It would only hurt me. I know what I saw, there’s nothing else I want to know or hear. So goodbye.” He didn’t follow you, standing still in shock. That night he’s lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering if anything could’ve changed the outcome. And every time he saw your name on tv, on newspapers, magazines, twitter,… he just couldn’t help to be proud of you. Even if it hurt him. Even if he didn’t get a chance to explain.

You smiled, singing along as you danced across the stage, quickly waving at your friends as you spotted them. You hugged your cape tight around you, waiting for your part to sing.

Why can't you hold me in the street?

Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor?

I wish that it could be like that

Why can't we be like that? 'Cause I'm yours

Why can't I say that I'm in love?

I wanna shout it from the rooftops

I wish that it could be like that

Why can't we be like that? 'Cause I'm yours

You walked forward, letting the golden cape fall behind you, revealing your body-con dress hugging your body and showing off all your beauty. You smiled as Geralt’s and Yen’s face dropped, their surprised expression quickly being substituted by a glowing smile and cheer, as they jumped up and cheered you on. You moved along the stage, looking around and focusing on those lyrics you held close to your heart. Had it not been for that moment, you would still have him to hold you in the street and to kiss you on the dance floor. But that’s not what destiny chose. You closed your eyes, a small tear sliding across your cheek. Opening them once more you met two surprised eyes behind the stage curtain, looking at you and following your every move. You spun around, sliding across the stage and moving away from the person that broke your heart all those years ago. You all finished singing, smiling and bowing as people erupted in a cheer.

“And now, let’s welcome our final act of the night!” the presenter called out as you made your way off the stage and into the seated area, finding Geralt and Yen. “You did great!” whispered Geralt.

“Yeah, you were amazing, honey! And that dress! Gotta let me know where you got it” she winked at you, laughing and hugging you, before leaning back into Geralt as everyone stopped talking, allowing the stage to be set up for the final act.

Everything quieted down as the last band made their way onto the stage, eager to sing and, hopefully, win.

You looked as they made their way on stage, noticing Jaskier immediately. He hadn’t changed much, if not for the length of his hair and the slight change in style. He scanned the crowd, stopping when he saw you. The music started, enveloping the theatre in a sweet song. You glanced at Geralt and Yen, wondering if they knew, wondering why they didn’t tell you, but they simply kissed, completely lost in their own world. It was their day after all. You stood up, quickly moving away from everything, not baring to listen to that voice that still made your heart flutter. Sliding your jacket on, you slipped away into the back of the stage, finding a spot where to wait for the announcement of the winners. You didn’t want to win, but to leave, get as far away from him as you could. “You know, I always felt so lost on that stage, but when I see you in the crowd, it all makes sense.” “Jaskier, don’t go all cheesy on me now” you laughed, sliding your arm under his. “Honey, I’m not cheesy. I’m real. You’re my home. I love you.” “I love you too.” you smiled, leaning onto him as the film started. Your first Valentine’s day as a couple, a typical day. Dinner, movie, lots of laugher and kisses.

The sounds of steps brought you back to reality. You glanced up, meeting Jade’s eyes. “You alright? We couldn’t find you, we’re set to go up on the stage in five”

“Oh, sorry. Just lost in thought. Let’s go!”

You rose to the stage, standing still and looking at the crowd with a fake smile. You could see Jaskier try to catch your attention, but ignored him.

“And the winner is… Little Mix!”

We cheered along with the public, hugging and jumping around.

It wasn’t long before the back-stage turned into a full fledged party that you enjoyed for some time, before slipping away, gathering your things and rushing out, eager to get away. “Hey. I just… congrats” You turned and saw Jaskier. He awkwardly stood, avoiding your gaze and ruffling his hair with his hand. “Thanks.” you muttered. “I don’t want to ruin this day for you, although I’m pretty sure I already did that a few years ago,…” you let out a dry laugh, finding a place to sit. “…but. But. I’m sorry. About how everything went. You shouldn’t have seen that." “Oh, so it would’ve been fine had I not seen you cheating? Great, thanks!”

“no, that’s not-, listen, I didn’t want you to see that because it wasn’t something that was supposed to happen. I got kissed for a reason I couldn’t control. I should’ve reacted differently. I should’ve done many things differently. But I just wanted to apologise, and let you know that there hasn’t been a single day where I didn’t think about you.” “Jask…”

“I’m so proud of you. And I hope you don’t hate me for what happened.” “I could never hate you. I was just disappointed. And sad. And… I wish things had gone differently.” you felt your heart skip a beat as he approached you, coming closer and placing a hand on your cheek. “I wish we could go back to what we had.”

“Maybe we could.” you said after a moment, looking up at him. He looked surprised, but smiled soon after, wrapping you in a tight hug and picking you up, spinning you around. “This is the best way this day could’ve gone.” you laughed at his words, nodding. “And we’re only just beginning” you added, giggling as he let you down, dragging him along back to the party, where everyone was dancing and celebrating.

[sea-side-scribbles]

Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/81416395

Chapter 74

They caught Nick. They came from all sides, eventually overwhelming him. He was already past various blows with their truncheons when one of them yelled: “Don't kill him! We need him alive!” “Let me go! I'm not Foggy Jack!”, Nick shouted, but he only received another blow for that. “What do we need him for?”, one of the Bobbies snarled. “Well, as proof?”, his colleague argued. “Sure, we can kill him now and tell everyone we caught Foggy Jack, but nobody's gonna believe us! When we bring him back alive, I bet we'll get a shiny medal!” “But I'm not...Foggy Jack!”, Nick tried again, gasping for air. “I'm Nick Lightbearer!” The Bobbies broke out in laughter. “Sure, and I'm the King of England”, said the one who stood closest to him. “Don't you recognise my voice?” “All I'm hearing is some pathetic whining of a captured criminal.” “I have to speak to Constable Hunt! He'll recognise me!” “You're not quite in the position to make demands!” “Come on! One of you should identify me!” Nick looked around. “Constable Rowley! Constable Whistler!, he blurted out. “You know me! Haven't I been always good to you?” The Constables he called shoved the others aside to look at him, but their faces weren't friendly.

“You fucked us over, that's what you did! Made us look quite stupid for thinking you've been stumbling around drunk in all these nights”, Constable Rowley spat. “But tonight you went too far!” “It was about time you snap”, Whistler added. “Besides, Constable Hunt is so stoned he'd even take a flowerpot for Nick Lightbearer. Whatever you drugged him with, it backfired!” “That wasn't me! The other one is Foggy Jack!” “How convenient. The one who's dead and can't defend himself!” “You have to make sure he's really dead!”, Nick begged. “No worries, we take care of everything, especially of you, celebrity”, the closest Bobby said smirking and ended the argument with a dose of knockout drops he drove into Nick's right upper arm.

Nick woke up in a prison for the second time in his life. Now it didn't look like he'd get off lightly. His first reaction was to rattle at the bars of his cell and call out for the Constables. When a tall man in a red uniform walked into his direction, he backed away a little. “What's up, little one? Need attention?”, the Bobby asked, playing with his electric truncheon. “You have to hear me out! I'm not Foggy Jack!”, Nick  continued to beg. “I see, you're our main attraction”, the tall man said quietly, stepping closer to the bars. “Did you find the other one? James? Is he...?” Nick gulped, avoiding the Constable's piercing gaze. “This is a sad day for Wellington Wells and a sad day for us Constables”, the Bobby began lamenting. “You brought great misery upon us all and we have the excruciating task of spreading the news.” “But I'm not Foggy Jack...”, Nick repeated in despair. “I'm...” But the man interrupted him. “Do you believe we can tell the horrible truth to our orderly citizens? Break their hearts like that and tell them that their most beloved idol has turned into their worst enemy? Can we allow the smartest of them to ask questions? Can we afford to make all the others unhappy? No, you see, we can't. It should've never been revealed. You should've never interfered.” Nick was confused. "But I..."

"Oh, don't worry, we won't put you to shame. Actually, it's easy. Uncle Jack went on holiday, Nick Lightbearer too and their names remain untainted. Nobody would want it any other way. But you...you're still here! You'll be the town's next great news! Your name is Norbert Pickles, right? Pays off to read the gossip magazines...You'll be a splendid Foggy Jack! Just try to look a tad bit guilty when you're being hanged." "...hanged?" The man's mocking grin turned wider. "Remind yourself, we're doing you a favour. You should be happy that we stopped you." "You know I'm innocent! You can't do this to me!" "Innocent, ey?" The Bobby laughed. "Think again, Mr. Pickles! We'd keep you anyway and let you rot in this cell. Instead, you get one last fancy show for yourself! You won't be able to hear the applause afterwards, but...you know what it sounds like...just imagine it." The Bobby continued to laugh, turned his back on Nick and vanished into the corridor.

Nick watched him go, his fingers still cramped around the bars. The Bobby's laughter faded away, leaving room for gloomy silence. Nick was out of words. He had no strength left to scream. Letting go of the bars, he slumped back on the plank bed. Wiping his face, he noticed he was still wearing the silver mask. He removed it and stared at it in disbelief. Foggy Jack. The way he had accepted it without asking questions... He had wanted it.

Nick dashed it against the brick wall. It made a little crack, not enough to satisfy him. Shame and regret spread in his chest. And disappointment. The friend he had met once in a lonely night, to whom he had opened his heart...he had lied to him, used him... Nick couldn't bear how stupid he had been. It made sense now. His mind had tried to warn him by showing him memories, but he had never understood. It had felt so good to be near James. The drug had blurred his sense. And then one thing had led to the other. Nick had stopped asking questions. Even now he didn't see everything clear, but he assumed things...He recalled the most important memories.

They made him shiver. Only a few hours ago he would've done it again. He had been so sure that this was the only way. He had even been looking forward to finally try out his gift. He still knew how he would've done it, how he would've moved the blade...If the Constable hadn't interrupted him... Nick broke out in tears and hated himself for it. He didn't want to cry for himself. He didn't deserve it. And still, he couldn't help but to feel pity for his former self that he had betrayed. He had never wanted any of this! He had always wanted to make other people happy, and to be loved in return. Yeah, he had also wanted to be famous, but not for hurting people. Nick didn't know what he regretted most. His stupidity or his lies.

Now he'll end in shame, hated and feared, hanged in public and sneered at by the masses. It was the worst show he could imagine and it would also drag his real name through the muck, the only part of his personality that was still of value. Memories overwhelmed him, scenes of former innocence, in the park with his first guitar, in the shop with Bates who had always welcomed him until he had fucked it up...He was glad to remember his old life again, but now it was hard to handle the memories.

Nick pulled down his wig and threw it away without giving it a glance. A crying fit shook him until he didn't even have enough energy to cry.

Perhaps he should be thankful that it ended, he then thought, lying on the plank. All the pain he had caused. It would be over. He should've died in his bathtub with the power cell. That would've saved other lives. Poor Arthur, having been entangled in all this... Nick comforted himself with the thought that Arthur was free now. He couldn't claim to be happy that his former lover ran away from him, but he understood. It hurt to remember how Arthur had yelled at him with this angry and panic-stricken expression, how he pushed him away. But he escaped James' clutches like that, he would survive. And he himself would be over it soon...

Nick wondered if the band would watch him too. He could imagine the whole town coming to see Foggy Jack hang. It hurt to imagine. Perhaps they'd think it's a different Norbert Pickles, not theirs, he mused. If they even thought much. Nick wished they would keep him in better memory, but there was still a tiny chance that they would. If his execution was long forgotten, they wouldn't link Foggy Jack to their old friend Norbert, right? A deep sigh escaped Nick. Sadly, it was time to leave the afterworld to it's own devices.

After all, he had gotten the chance to put a few things right, to find his friends again and be a part of the Make Believes for one last time. He couldn't prevent that they'd forget him, but on the contrary, nobody could take the good memories from him again. Nick even smiled a little, thinking about the excessive life he had led. He'd like to see anyone else do that!

Arthur didn't look behind once. He ran back to the Parade District and struggled his way through it. It was easier now. The Wellies were all sloshed enough to not pay attention anymore. Most of them were still trying to dance, some of them sang off-tune. They had parted into small groups and didn't care about who passed by. Like this, the night faded away and the next day came. Nobody made a move to get back to the usual business. The whole town was in trance. Drunken, stoned, tired. Arthur did everything in a hurry and didn't even make time to rejoice when he finally entered the rail tunnels.

He walked through the building, or rather climbed through the maze that the building had become in time. He felt like he had entered a different world. It was so quiet. His ears were still ringing from the noise in the town and suddenly all he heard were his own footsteps echoing from the empty, dirty walls. The emptiness felt  eerie. Arthur concluded that the Bobbies had abandoned their shifts for this special occasion. Nobody cared about Skippers as long as they could stuff their bellies or get high from Coconut Joy. After all, it was the biggest festival of the year. Arthur couldn't believe how lucky he was.

Finally standing on Britannia Bridge, he had to pause. He felt the cold wind running through his hair. Where did the wind suddenly come from? Had it been so chill in the town too? Arthur only now noticed something as usual as the weather. And the smell...was that the ocean? Arthur hadn't really paid attention to smells since his first shock from withdrawal. After getting a noseful of motilene, dead rats, mould and chemical waste he had gone numb. But this...Arthur couldn't remember smelling this in the Garden District. At his favourite place, the cliff... This was different. He was so close to the water. He could also hear it hiss and fume. It was quite loud. Walking closer to the balustrade, he could even see it. The stone felt cold and wet. Did Bobbies patrol here without noticing all this? The moonlight reflected in the water. Arthur had the feeling that even the moon was closer here. The sky was speckled with stars. It looked much clearer without the motilene fog. As if he could touch it. It was like the sky had arranged a welcoming committee for a petty Skipper like him.

Arthur turned his gaze, following the course of the bridge. He was surprised about how far it went. It showed him how tiny and narrow the town was, with all it's contorted alleys that all went in a circle. Arthur wondered how long it would take to cross it. The bridge faded into the dark horizon. And there, wrapped in blackness, lay the mainland. It looked so calm, untouched by all the madness. Did they know what happened here? And what happened to them? Arthur had never had the time to ponder over what the war had done to the rest of the world. But judging by the view he was provided, he thought they were better off.

Arthur made his first steps along the bridge. Here as well, he could hear his own footsteps. They mixed into the rushing of the ocean. “I'll be right with you, Percy...”, he whispered, as if he had to bolster himself up. “I'm almost there...”

He didn't get an answer. Suddenly, Arthur's heart sunk. He was disappointed, as if the ocean, the bridge or the moon were supposed to support him. Arthur's footsteps became slower, until he finally came to a halt. The balustrade had to stabilise him again. He didn't feel it's cold as intensely as before, because his own hands were cold now. Arthur leaned over it, sucking in the air. He looked up to the sky. What was happening to him? That was all he wanted. The freedom. The calm. But he didn't feel free. He felt awful.

“Percy, I...”, he began. The howling wind interrupted him. “Arthur!”, he heard Percy shout in fear. “Arthur, where are you?” I have to go, Arthur told himself. He forced himself to go on, left the supporting handrail and struggled his way forward. “Arthur!” He heard it again. But this time, it was a different voice. Arthur froze, staring at the wide horizon, as if he could hold onto it. The view was beautiful, a symphony of light and dark. Auspicious. It must be wonderful to join it.

But it wasn't meant to be, Arthur thought. Not for him.

He turned around and made a step. Then another.

Arthur ran back the entire way, possessed by only one thought. He didn't pay attention to how the ocean fell silent, how the fresh smell of salt in the air vanished and made room for the usual mould. He didn't look at the various desperate scribbles at the walls, messages from former Downers that had tried to escape, not at the faded poster of Uncle Jack, explaining that all Skippers were crazy. He was highly focused when he entered the town again and sneaked through the district. Still, nobody noticed him. The whole town was sloshed and sleeping and Arthur cold move freely.

He stopped at a big, unpleasant looking brick building to check the situation. It seemed like here of all places the town was still in order. A Bobby in red uniform sat at a counter and looked very awake. He also fought for staying awake. Arthur saw him slapping his own face and almost chuckled at it. What a shame that some Bobbies still kept their principles.

“What do you want?”, the man asked grumpily. “Visiting hours are in the afternoon.” “Wouldn't it be too late then?”, Arthur said mysteriously as if they shared a secret. “Too late for what?” The Bobby only looked warier. “Well...I heard you made a good catch last night.” “Did you?” The Bobby was unimpressed. “I still don't see why that's your business. Come back in the afternoon like everyone else and see if you're lucky.” “Perhaps this explains why I'm in a hurry...” Arthur held out his press pass. "This is the last chance to get anything useful out of him. People would die to read more about him...I mean, they don't die anymore...weird choice of words there..."

"'O' Courant, ey?” The Bobby read the pass. “Excuse me Sir, but our special guest isn't available for interrogations by the public eye. It's too risky, you know? A very unpleasant experience." "So, you're afraid he might say something...inconvenient?" Arthur could watch the Bobby regret his words. "Er, no, no...of course not like that...but he's...er...sleeky. We shouldn't give him any options to cause havoc." "So, I better go and write about that instead...", Arthur thought out loud. The Bobby didn't look amused. "What are you implying?" "Just what I said. I can only tell the public what I'm hearing. And besides, you do want a big story on the most cheerful event right after Memorial Day, right? I need to give them a monster they can hate, and therefore celebrate it's end! If he's not the monster we all think he is, I better go and correct that image." The Bobby flared up. "You shut your goddamn mouth you...!" But he changed his mind right after and sat back down. His look turned benevolent. "My apologies, Sir...It's been a tough night...Your reasoning makes sense. I'll let you through, but it's at your own risk, are we clear?" "Crystal clear", Arthur said, eagerly to go on.

He entered the prison, looking into every corner because he didn't trust them. But nobody seemed to care about their guest. Bobbies at another counter focused on some papers. Or perhaps they only pretended to work. Arthur decided to ignore them in return and walked on by. When he descended a long and wide staircase that led deep into the dark core of the building, he realized that he needed help or else he'd wander around in here forever. Arthur regretted that he hadn't gotten a welcoming committee and now had to explain it all again. When he heard footsteps behind him, he decided to use the opportunity. Every Bobby was just as good. Arthur turned around and found three of them walking towards him.

“Mr. Hastings, I presume?”, one of them asked. Oh, there was his welcoming committee. Arthur affirmed shortly. "You shouldn't go alone, Sir”, one of the Constables said. He was a lot friendlier than the one at the entrance. “This building is quite the maze, you could get lost. Let us guide you to our special guest. He's lodged in a special place." Arthur saw that he had no choice anyway and went with the Bobbies, feeling uncomfortable in two ways. First, they made his plan more complicated and second, he didn't trust them one bit. He began to wonder if the Bobby at the entrance gave up to soon, if it all had been to easy. That was why he kept his distance for them. No chance to be drugged by surprise or quicky hit with a truncheon.

They descended more stairs and went along more dark hallways. This truly was a maze. Arthur was glad he had quite a good memory, because no one would guide him outside. His heart sunk when they stopped in front of an empty cell. "Where is he? Is it too late?" Arthur tried to sound not too worried. The Bobbies gave each other a look. Then they brought out their electric truncheons. "You're arrested, Mr. Hastings, for illegal investigation!" "This is ridiculous!", Arthur shouted out. "You better cooperate, Sir. See, it's not so bad. You'll have a nice cell for your own, we'll feed you daily and you'll have nothing to worry about ever again. You can even take Joy." The Bobbies came closer, herding him towards the cell. Arthur figured the Constable only bothered to argue with him because he thought this was a done deal. Three armed men and one helpless reporter.

They didn't expect him to through a Banger at them. The selfmade bomb exploded in their faces and when they fell, arms up to protect their faces, Arthur dashed at them. He took the truncheon of the first and let it clash against his head. The second grabbed him but Arthur kicked him in the stomach and got free. He needed two hits to take him down. The third was pulling himself up at the wall when Arthur turned to him. It was a dirty fight. The Bobby was disoriented and flailed around. He still had his truncheon and Arthur had to make sure he didn't get hit by accident. Arthur striked a blow on the other man's long legs and made him stumble, leaving his head unprotected for a second. Another hit against the neck later he lay on the ground, still mourning. Arthur used the chance and kneeled down on the man, fixing him in place.

"Where is he?", he hissed at him. "Where's Foggy Jack?" The Bobby frowned and turned his head away. Arthur shook him. "Tell me or I'll blow your lights out! Do you really want to die for this?" The Bobby winced, then he stuttered a descripiton: "He's in...block A...in the east wing...left from the entrance...five stairwells down...at the end of the hallway...left..." With that, he fell unconscious. Arthur went on, looking for any sign that pointed to the direction of block A, hoping he didn't have to go all the way back to the entrance hall. He found one and followed it, then hoping he would descent the right stairwell. All he could make out of the description was that they kept Nick in a cell very far down, probably the safest area. Arthur gulped. Descending into hell couldn't be more uncomfortable.

To avoid the Bobbies he crawled along the vents and pig pipes that came out of the wall here and there. It was more confusing to orientate this way but Arthur set all his trust in his intuition that had saved his life so many times by now. Five stairwells later he actually found a long hallway that he followed, viewing it from his high above position on a pipe. Then he had to leave it to go left, but he had to wait for another red Bobby to pass by before he could to that. The Bobby slowly strolled, whistleling a song. Arthur frowned. How could this man be so happy despite everything? All the suffering prisoners. They didn't even give them Joy. Arthur heard them beg for Joy or cry about their missing children. He understood Nick a bit more now. If he had the chance to open all cells he would use it and he'd be happy to watch the chaos unfold. When he finally went on, his heartbeat began to pound in his temples. He was craving to see him again but he was also afraid of the moment. And also, he was afraid that he had gone the wrong way. There were many empty cells in this hallway and Arthur wondered if it was even still in use.

One cell had a prisoner that made Arthur's heart miss a beat. He walked towards him with high hopes, because he had seen the person wearing a black suit. The man lay on his plank bed and stared at the wall with an empty expression. Arthur eyed his face and hair and saw nothing familiar in both. This man was probably here for a long time, considering how empty he was. Disappointed,  Arthur turned his gaze away and went on. He found more empty cells next to this and his heart sunk.

Suddenly, he heard a faint voice say his name. Arthur froze in his tracks and looked around. He saw that the man in the black suit had gotten up and clutched the bars. Arthur walked back to him, eyeing the prisoner up and down. When the man saw him from up close, his eyes widened. "Arthur?", he said again in disbelief. The voice didn't fit the image. "Nick?", Arthur asked, doubting. The other man seemed to notice something. He put a hand on his cheek. He was wearing no mask and he also wasn't wearing any facial hair other than a few stubbles. His hair was darker, shorter and an utter mess. It was lacking the caramel tone that Arthur adored so much. He also looked younger, despite being all pale, having dark rings under red eyes and being unshaven. It was his expression, his eyes that finally made Arthur see something familiar in him.

Nick blushed. "Yeah, it's me...If I knew you would come, I would've made my hair..." He gave a little adorable smile. Arthur melted. He reached out and put his hands on the other man's, so that both were grabbing the bars. "Nick!", he sighed. Nick's eyes watered again, but this time out of happiness. Simply feeling Arthur's hands on his was a gift from heaven. "Are you a prisoner too?", he asked. "No, I'm here for you...", Arthur answered, now recognizing and adoring the green eyes. Nick looked down as if he was flattered, smilling widely. "You came back for me?” “U-huh.” Arthur nodded happily. Nick palpated the other man's hands. “Do you have the key?" Arthur beamed at him. "Who the fuck needs a key?"

Arthur admitted to himself that causing an explosion in a prison full of enemies was a big risk, but it was simply what felt most satisfying. When the damn cell door blew up, deforming and screeching as if in pain and finally shattered on the floor, Arthur was about to dance with joy. Well, a second later it seemed like someone had had the same idea because they heard another massive explosion that even made the walls shake for a moment. "What the hell was that?", Nick gasped, looking up to the ceiling. "Not a part of my plan", Arthur assured him. "We better get out of here quickly."

They heard hasty footsteps and screams coming from the upper floors. Stairs were run up and doors slammed shut. However, Arthur sensed that their hurry wasn't directed at them. None of their footsteps came closer. Instead, Arthur and Nick approached them. They ran along the corridor without meeting a patrol. Then they reached the pipe that Arthur had climbed and for the first time Arthur doubted his plan. “It would be better if we...”, he said and pointed at the pipe. Looking at Nick, he hoped the man understood and wasn't too scared. Nick's gaze shortly wandered along the pipe, up to the ceiling. “Go ahead, I follow you”, he simply answered.

Relieved, Arthur started to climb. He kept looking back at Nick, checking how he was doing and offering help. Nick copied his every move without protesting and Arthur soon calmed down. They tracked through the prison as if they had been practising this for ages. They saw Bobbies running along, cussing or lamenting. None of them sounded like he knew what was going on. They only complained about the fuss. Also, none of the prisoners were free. They jeered at their guards, but it was obvious that this wasn't a revolution. Arthur felt sorry for that but he had no time to make any change.

A few floors later they could see the big staircase. Arthur gestured Nick to stop. Fuck in a bucket, Arthur thought. This didn't look good. Any and all Constables gathered here and lined up. Also Nick saw it. “Oh dear...I guess they won't let us pass for an autograph?” Arthur searched the staircase, finding out that they could climb on a ventilation shaft, even though they would be seen by everyone. It also meant that after climbing, they couldn't just get down from it and walk out. However, at the ceiling he detected something that looked like a hatch. He hoped he could trust his judgement at a long distance, knowing that he had no other chance anyway. “We have get up there”, he explained his plan to Nick. “Just try not to look down and don't get distracted.” Nick approved with a nod. “Okay.”

They ascended the shaft that provided more support than the greasy pipe. It didn't take long until a Bobby saw them. "Oi!", he cried out, pointing at them. "They escape!"  It didn't matter who "they" were, as long as they had someone they could blame all the chaos on. The Bobbies started to yell and reach out for the shaft, trying to climb on it. Arthur's heart skipped a beat when he saw that one of them climbed on another Constable's shoulders. "Don't panic, just climb a little faster", he said to Nick and fastened his own pace. He didn't imagine that a Bobby could get on the shaft and chase them down on it. Nick went along and tried to ignore the howling of his enemies. Soon, they had to step on the hands that reached the shaft, but that didn't stop the Bobbies from trying. Arthur had to go for drastic measures. "Hold on!", he said to Nick and threw a bomb right into the mob. The power sent them flying, slapping against the walls and each other. As funny as it looked, the show was accompanied by the sound of bones breaking. The Bobbies' yells of pain mixed with their howling and the smell of burned flesh spread in the air. It was a bloodbath.

Arthur now focused on the hatch. "We're almost there!", he shouted over the noise to bolster Nick up. Finally, they climbed up the ladder to the hatch. Arthur threw himself against it and was surprised by how easily it opened. He almost fell upwards and yelped. "What is it?", Nick asked fearfully. "Nothing, nothing, we're safe, just get out..." Arthur climbed up and crawled onto the cobblestone. Then he grabbed Nick by the arm to pull him out. "Holy shit!", Nick gasped right after landing on the cobblestone himself. Arthur turned his head to where Nick was looking. "What the...?" The town had changed completely. Houses and cars were burning, corpses lay on the street and some remaining Wellies ran around, wielding truncheons or frying pans, looking like they got into a fight. Perhaps this was the revolution. It could also be Coconut Joy at it's finest. "What happened?" Nick was confused. "I have no idea, but we should stay out of this at any cost. Follow me."

Nick didn't ask any further questions when they went on. They heard screams in the distance that made Arthur's hair stand on end and he begged inwardly that they didn't get into a fight. They ran through clouds of smoke, holding their breath. Turning a corner, the sight didn't get better. The district descendet into chaos. The former order didn't apply anymore, as all the TV screens were demolished and the drones lay on the ground, burning to ashes. There were no Constables, at least no living ones. Ripped banners and destroyed marked stalls were the remnants of the once happy festival. It looked like the Wastrels had taken over. “Liars!”,  was scribbled on a poster, right over the false smile of a model. “They were so small”, was painted on another house.

"They are off their Joy!", Arthur stated. "You were right! This town is falling apart!" Nick eyed the chaos with terror. They ran down the once glorious alley that led to the train station. It's door was open. Arthur had a bad feeling about having to fight through a bunch of hysterical Wellies in there, but he also admitted that it wasn't a surprise that others wanted to escape, too. They ran throught the open door, passed by the shredded poster of Uncle Jack and went on downstairs. Arthur calmed down a bit when they walked along the rails, towards their freedom. "This is the way out of town, right?", Nick asked after a while. "Yes", was all Arthur could say. Nick didn't answer. Arthur was already glad that he didn't protest. They began to hear muffled voices in the distance, as if there was a group of people nearby. "Oh, perfect", Arthur gasped. "Let's hope they're friendly." It didn't seem like it thought. They could hear yelling and running and things hitting other things. Arthur was about to discuss a plan with Nick when another sudden explosion shook the building. The walls gave in, the floor cracked open and the tunnel got filled with a thick plume of dust. It was impossible to see where to run. Nick and Arthur just held onto each other.

When the dust had set and it was silent again they opened their eyes. They were kneeling on the ground, embracing each other. Arthur let go first to climb up the debris, to see how bad it was. "No!", Arthur screamed at the mountain of rubble that blocked their way out. He tore at the chunks of wall, but they were too heavy to be moved by one person alone. "Nick, we need to do this together!" Nick quickly stood by his side and pulled at the chunk too. It didn't move. They were giving their best, but Arthur also knew that they both were exhausted. "Goddamnit, I wasted my last bomb on the Bobbies! We need to find another way!" Arthur let go and climbed back. "Arthur..." Nick's voice was quiet and consorting. "I think this is blocked, too." Arthur looked up and saw the tunnel being clogged up by debris. "No...", he gasped and searched the other walls for a way out. A vent, a pipe, a hole, just something. Nick looked around on the other side. But no matter how throroughly they searched, the wall didn't grant them their wish.

"So this is it?", Arthur yelled, punching the wall with his fist. "This is how it ends? I wanted to save you, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you! This isn't fair! Nothing is ever fair in my life!" He slumped down on a chunk. He thought about Percy, who he had failed to protect, who would now never know that his brother still cared about him, he thought about Sally who he had driven out of his house for something that hadn't been her fault. He saw how he had met her again, scolding her instead of saying sorry, how he had refused to help her when she had needed it the most. And how he had abandoned Nick, left him to deal with this insane killer. If he had taken Nick with him at his first escape, they would be on the mainland now, being free, viewing the stars together... Arthur's eyes welled up. "Why am I such a failure?", he shouted out, looking at the ceiling as if there was a god to answer him. The tears broke loose and made him huddle up, being too embarassed to look at Nick anyway.

Nick walked over to his desperate, sobbing lover and sat down next to him. Soon, Arthur was wrapped into a caressing embrace. "You did save me, Arthur", Nick whispered to him. "From being hanged in public. From being insulted, pelted with trash and spit on. From having the town dance on my grave..." A little rumble in the distance made him look up. However, nothing but silence followed it. "You will still die here...", Arthur rasped. "You'll starve if we can't find rats to eat..." "I was already dead", Nick replied. "But you came back for me, proved me your love like that...showed me that after all this I'm still...I'm still worth loving...this is the most beautiful thing you could've done for me..." He stroked Arthur's back. "I'm sorry you have to pay such a heavy price for this...You did enough to deserve a happy life and I wish I could make it up to you, prove my love in return. Also I'd love to spend more time with you." He kissed the other man's cheek.

Arthur sobbed, but less deeply than before. He palpated Nick's arm. "We still have some time left..." "Hmm, that's the spirit", Nick purred. Arthur let out the air and smiled a little. "Nick, if you really feel like that, if you feel it was all worth it...then I don't regret anything!" "Well, I guess you had your reasons, doing all this for me..." Nick squeezed his hand. "You're a crazy fucker, Nick and you deserve a beating for not telling me the truth!" Nick held up his arms and bowed his head. "Well...feel free to give it to me now..." Arthur grabbed him by the shoulders. "I know a better way to spend my last bits of energy..." Nick smiled. "My luck..." His hands explored the other man's upper body. "And mine..." Arthur closed his eyes and kissed Nick. The touch caused his synapses to flare up and his body to want more.

They busied themselves, ignoring the rumbling noises around them. There was nowhere they could run anyway. All Arthur cared about was if he could make Nick beg for mercy before they died. When they both shouted out their exstasy there was a moment Arthur thought the ceiling would give in.

A few moments later, when Arthur crawled off of Nick, gasping and moaning with pleasure, his lover cuddled into him and whispered: "I think the tunnel is about to collapse..." "Yeah, I figured that too...", Arthur sighed out of breath. They both eyed the ceiling as if they were lying in the grass stargazing. "I like to think it's because of us." Nick laughed. "Perhaps we'll make it into the history books." Arthur joined the laughter. "We fucked so hard the town got destroyed..." They had fun imagining this until a thin crack wandered along the ceiling of the tunnel. Arthur instinctively pulled the smaller man closer and pressed his head against his chest.

"I'm not scared, you're scared...", Nick muttered from under Arthur's arm and the taller man giggled. "I won't risk to die in fear before this show ends", Arthur advised him. "I'm sorry you have to see me like this by the way", Nick brought it up and grabbed his hair. "If I knew you were coming, I..." Arthur waved him off. "You've always been ugly." "Yeah, but I mean I would've made myself extra ugly," Nick deadpanned. "Nevermind, I have to deal with it now. It takes a lot to be your boyfriend, I figured that, but I'm used to suffering", Arthur answered sternly. Nick chuckled. "My sexy Downer..." Arthur had to grin at that. "I wonder, did I seduce you?" "How could I resist?", the rock idol blurted out. "With your formfitting suit, tightly parted hair,  sharp cheekbones to die for and always towering above me like that...I mean no, not at all..." Arthur stroked the other man's dark hair. "Poor thing..." "Yeah, my thoughts exactly." Nick folded his arms. "I am the victim in this." Arthur kissed him again.

He was just wondering how often he could kiss Nick before it was over when there was another rumble that made dust ripple from the walls. Arthur looked up but Nick's gentle hand pulled him back down. "Thank you", the rockstar whispered and kissed him again. The ceiling came down with a roar.

Darkness. Silence. Then something. A noise. Like a beep. A beep? Yeah...a beep. And light. A flashing bright light that hurt his eyes. He blinked, frowned, moaned. The light split up into colors. The shadows in front of him slowly turned into figures. Could it be? No...no... Oh, please, no...

"Welcome back, Mr. Worthing", the hideous face of a doctor cheered. "Thank goodness we found you in time! We would've lost you forever! You shouldn't be so careless. Also, you caused quite the trouble out there." He tutted and shook his head. "I can't believe you fooled us for so long, but don't worry, it was simply the wrong formula that made you do this. We have a much more advanced one right here." He showed him a syringe with an ominous pink fluid in it. "No!", Jack cried, hammering against the glass wall of his cell. "No, please, just kill me!" "Aw, why would we do that?", the doctor said with a pitiful face. "Killing you for a little accident." He waved him off. "You're everyone's best friend. Their uncle!" "You can't go on with this forever!", Jack spat. "You don't even have a working formula! You'll never have one!" The doctor scratched his beard. "Hmm...you should let the science to the experts, Mr. Worthing. Your own attempts of self-medication went terribly wrong, didn't they?" Jack frowned. "Aw, what's that face? We want your smile back, Mr. Worthing. Do you remember it?" "Stop! Stop this bullshit!", Jack blurted out. "If not, then you're lucky. You're just in time for another News Hour with...well, with yourself! Isn't that funny, haha! Who else can watch himself on the telly, you're truly blessed!"

The doctors started to laugh. The one who had been talking pointed at the TV in a corner of the room. Jack cursed the damn thing. Why couldn't at least the doctors stop watching this shit? They didn't believe a word of it but still enjoyed hearing the happy lies. Jack suffered when the screen lit up and the stupid jolly show began. Well, when he closed his eyes he at least didn't have to see his own awfully forced smile.

This was his punishment, he concluded. Endless torture. This time they wouldn't be so stupid to trust him. They perhaps didn't really care about healing him. They could broadcast the old shows for all eternity and nobody would notice. Oh, Nick... He did this to him...He was such a smart boy...He did the right thing...still, it hurt... "She loved them, you know...She had dozens of them...You'd think at twelve your daughter would be over dolls...but she made these darling little costumes...", he heard himself say. Oh, yeah, my dear Margaret...she didn't deserve any of this...but wait, why was he talking about her?

Jack opened his eyes and saw himself shiver, struggling to speak. The smile was gone. The doctors watched the show in horror. "What is this?", one of them gasped. "Someone has to stop that!", the other one shouted. "Send a message! Now!", the third one ordered to the first. Jack stared at the screen, having goosebumps all over his body. This had been his last broadcast before they had brought him here. This was his old, innocent self. "Stop taking Joy!", his old self shouted. "The food has run out! We're starving! You have to stop taking your Joy! We've come to the end of our time! We've come to the end of our time!" The doctors ran around the room in panic, trying to figure out who to message first and yelling commands through the speakers. Then something very big detonated with an earshattering noise and made the room shake. The doctors stumbled, yelled, fell onto each other, others ran in, some ran out, glass tubes fell on the floor or the delicate machines and spilled their insides, it was pure chaos.

Jack laughed. He laughed out all his pain, his suffering, his misery that he had bottled-up in all those years. It felt so releaving to see their panic, to see how his own doing caused this. Also, it was very funny to watch. He hadn't had so much fun in years. Another glass tube was knocked over by a Doctor and it's liquid ran over a console, causing a loudly hissing short cirquit. Seconds later, Jack's cell door opened. Nobody noticed. Jack walked out and enjoyed his tour through a building full of his enemies' despair.  He noticed it wasn't Haworth Labs and he liked to think that something even worse had happened there so they couldn't bring him to his old cell. What a shame though. He would've liked to pay Verloc a visit. But he also knew that the game was over.

Stepping outside, he found the Parade Disctric in a horrible state. His own broadcast had stopped playing, but the Wellies nevertheless had obeyed their good old Uncle Jack once more. He sighed deeply, looking around with a smile. He was at peace.

[with-all-my-heart-arwen]

When Blue Eyes Become Green

A/N: We only saw a snippet of Arthur's jealous side when it came to Gwen. I wanted to expound on that just a little. Hope you enjoy.

"Arthur, you're being ridiculous," Gwen reminds him.

"Am I? What do you know of this Lancelot? He could be a common criminal come to relieve us of our gold," Arthur states.

Gwen shakes her head. "I have no gold to be relieved of."

Her love removes his hand from his chin and stands to his full height. "No. You have something far more precious and more valuable than gold."

Gwen's mouth drops in shock. "Arthur please. I will not have you slander Lancelot's name nor his honor in this manner. He would never think to do something so malicious."

"Well until we are completely sure, I wish you would not accompany him alone. What's so bloody interesting that you walk with him in the north garden of all places?"

A tinge of guilt flutters through her as she realizes that Arthur considers the north garden as a special place for them. "I didn't invite him. He found me there, picking my flowers. It would have been rude of me to send him away. Besides, he meant no harm."

"Does he know you're spoken for?" He demands.

"Am I, sire?" Gwen teases.

Arthur opens his mouth to speak only to close it, knowing he hasn't made the commitment he should. Becoming king of Camelot was no easy feat and he just wanted to feel some sort of confidence in the role before he took on the role of husband.

Gwen laughs good naturedly. "I only tease you my lord. Of course I'm spoken for and Lancelot does know that. He is just unaware of who stakes the claim."

His blue eyes light up with clarity and he claps his hands together with, "Ahh….then that is easily solved. I will politely inform him…"

"Arthur. Please recall the decision we made only a fortnight ago. In your new role as king, it is best to leave our….commitment to each other unknown."

He scoffs. "Everyone saw me kiss you in the square, Guinevere. I hardly think my feelings for you are a mystery to anyone." He frowns. "Which makes me wonder why no one has chosen to inform Lancelot that he oversteps his bounds."

She sighs. "Firstly, no bounds have been overstepped and secondly, your people respect you. I am sure they realize that something is there but until we speak publicly about it, they will not betray you…. or me." She closes the distance between them and takes his hands into her own. "My heart belongs to one man alone. No other can take his place. No other shall take his place."

He smiles with her declaration, his jealousy forgotten. "Have I been horrible?"

She returns his smile, biting her bottom lip. "Just a tad. There is no need for this Arthur. Trust me."

"I do trust you. It's Lancelot I do not trust."

"Think I would give him any liberty?" She scoffs. "I most certainly would not. Besides, Lancelot is a gentleman. I assure you."

Arthur nods in agreement. "Just…no more time alone with him in the north garden." He watches for her assurance and is satisfied with her encouraging smile.

She grasps her skirts and makes her way toward the door. "No time alone in the north garden. Check," she mutters. She is startled as Arthur materializes at her side and blocks her exit.

"Correction. No time alone with him anywhere."

"You would have me be rude and dismiss the friendship he offers?"

Arthur scoffs. "He offers more than friendship and unless you want to see him run through…"

At her shocked expression, he quickly amends his words. "I jest Guinevere. I would not harm a hair on his head but do be careful around him."

"Yes sire. Now can I please get to my duties before the day has passed?" She smiles and taps his shoulder to indicate that he should move aside and allow her to leave.

He obliges reluctantly and walks over to his desk to look over the itinerary Merlin had organized for the coming days.

XXXXXXXXXX

The dinner was in full swing with wine flowing and delectable dishes lining the tables from one end to the other. The king and his council were celebrating the knights of Camelot for the rescue of a nearby village from vicious marauders who had been terrorizing the countryside for some time. It was a relief to have the land free from that threat as they are aware another could materialize in the near future.

Gwen stood in close proximity to the head table, directing the staff accordingly. Arthur had, of course, asked her to join him but she felt she should keep to their previous agreement of shielding their relationship for the time being. She smiles as Lancelot looks her way and raises his glass to her before taking a sip. She looks to her side and notices that Arthur witnessed the exchange and did not look too pleased about it. She cringes inwardly at his ridiculousness and decides to remove herself from the situation before anything else could happen.

She arrives in the kitchens and ignores the heat from the wood pit, taking a deep breath before releasing it slowly. She found Arthur's jealously endearing this morning, but she fears if it is allowed to continue, it will fester into something it shouldn't. They already face enough obstacles and there is no room for more. She also cannot ignore Lancelot as he is doing nothing wrong, but she will have to be firmer in her declaration of love for her suitor who remains anonymous to the public.

For a fleeting moment, she is saddened that she and Arthur cannot be more forthcoming with their feelings for one another. She knows they need to be careful as he is royalty and she is simply not. A lot of people would not understand a union between them, so they are being careful and cautious. There will be a more appropriate time for them. She just wonders when that will be.

A young serving girl races to the entrance, breathless and flushed. "The king requests your presence, Gwen."

Gwen nods with a smile, smooths her skirts, and makes her return to the dining hall, the serving girl trailing her as if she must ensure that Gwen goes straight to the hall. Arthur smiles when he sees her and immediately stands, using a utensil to tap his goblet.

He clears his throat. "May I have your attention please?"

The room grows quiet as everyone looks to their king, awaiting what he is about to share.

Arthur looks over at Gwen, then faces his guests. "I'm honored to be standing before you tonight in the presence of such good friends. The people of this kingdom are very dear to me. This place is my life. I hope to continue the good work that my father started and make Camelot a place of peace and happiness. It is my sincerest hope that you share this sentiment and join me in crowning my queen." He pushes his chair aside, steps to Guinevere, and drops to one knee. "Guinevere, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Guinevere tries desperately to mask her shock and surprise. She stares disbelievingly at the man she loves and is rendered speechless. She swallows the lump in her throat and looks out to the sea of expectant faces. She returns her attention to the king and quietly whispers, "Yes."

The applause and shouts of joy are almost deafening as they echo through the hall. For the first time in her life, Gwen feels faint. She is thankful when Arthur stands and places his arm at her waist to face the guests with a jubilant smile. She leans into him and summons a smile herself as her heart races uncontrollably. This is what she has wanted for years but it does not feel right. She looks over at Arthur, wondering if this is some sort of dream or hallucination. Did Arthur just propose in front of all these people? What was he thinking?

She has no time to consider the reason for his actions as well wishers approach them and give their congratulations. The words surprise and secret float through the air for the remainder of the night and Gwen finds herself pining for the festivities to end.

Much later, she sits at the table in her humble abode and contemplates what could have prompted Arthur to do this and all without consulting her. She shakes her head and repeatedly rubs her temples. The knock at the door is expected as she was sure Arthur would visit her this night. She slowly rises from the table and makes her way to the door to open it.

He steps inside and immediately removes his cloak, tossing it onto the bed as usual. He faces her with a huge, excited smile. He was about to speak until he notices Gwen's distressed appearance. "What's wrong?"

"Arthur, you proposed to me in front of the council, the knights, the…..."

"I know. It was perfect. Now everyone knows about our love, they accept it, and we can be married at our leisure."

"Everyone knows?" She gasps. "Please tell me this is not about your jealously of Lancelot. You proposed only to make a point or better yet to stake a claim? Oh Arthur…. your proposal is supposed to be special…. heartfelt. Not forced because you are imagining some threat to our relationship."

Her boyfriend deflates in front of her very eyes as her words sink in. He realizes the truth of them and suddenly feels awful. Of course, he is Arthur Pendragon and he must maneuver this to suit his wants. "I…. apologize for the haste of my actions but they were heartfelt. I love you, Guinevere and I want nothing more than for you to become my wife, my queen. This was not well planned but the wedding will be."

"You're missing the point Arthur. You only did this publicly because you felt threatened. My assurances should have been enough for you. I am sorely disappointed."

"Disappointed? We are betrothed now. I thought you'd be happy."

She sighs. "I should be but we had a plan did we not? You wanted to concentrate on your role as king and I understood that. I was willing to wait but you tossed all of that aside because you thought someone else could take your place in my affections. That shows insecurity, Arthur, and mistrust."

Her brown eyes reflect a sadness so deep that Arthur gulps as the guilt of his actions weighs heavily in the pit of his stomach. "I never meant to disappoint you. I truly only want your happiness. Please forgive me."

She steps to him and wraps her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly as she rests her cheek against his chest.

The next day, Gwen is inundated with gifts and kindness. Most were friendly before but they are overtly so now and she does not want to feel annoyance but she does. She was not prepared for this influx. Of course, there was never a challenge she did not face head on and this one shall be no different. She smiles through it all and tries to carry on with her routine duties except everyone is beyond helpful and before she knows it, her duties are being taken care of by others.

She decides to escape to the sanctity of the north garden. She encounters Lancelot on the way and gives him an encouraging smile only to watch as he nods to her respectfully and continues in the opposite direction. She shakes her head in disappointment, knowing he is now avoiding her because she is to be married to Arthur. Are her friendships no longer viable as the future queen of Camelot? She wishes she had someone to confer with about royal responsibilities and duties aside from Arthur.

A tap on her shoulder brings her out of her reverie and she smiles broadly to match the smile Merlin is bestowing on her.

"Congratulations, my friend. I am so happy for you," he relays.

"Thank you…. I think."

Merlin shakes his head. "What…. does that mean? You think?"

Gwen confides in Merlin and shares that she thought Arthur's proposal would be very different, more intimate and especially further into their future.

He expresses understanding. "There is nothing that prohibits a long engagement. I will also vouch for him and say that his feelings were in the right place however misguided the situation was."

"I know you're right and now I feel a tad selfish because I envisioned something else for us. I should be more accepting and happier. I'm engaged to King Arthur."

Her friend places his hands at her shoulders. "Your life with Arthur will be rough and perilous but I'll be there every step of the way." He laughs good naturedly. "Honestly, I wish you both a world of happiness. You are in love. That's all that really matters right?"

"As usual, you're right Merlin. We're to be married and that's all that matters," she agrees.

XXXXXXXXXX

"I have completely screwed this up," Arthur admits as Merlin places clean clothes inside his wardrobe. "Gwen is not very happy with me and I really need to make this up to her. Any suggestions?"

"You're asking me?" Merlin probes incredulously.

"I'm confused. I thought she would be over the moon with me asking her to marry me in public. That would leave no doubts to my affections, but she thinks I did it for all the wrong reasons. Well, maybe I did have an ulterior motive but it's the result that matters most isn't it?"

"I'm confused too. Would you like to start from the beginning?" Merlin had heard Gwen's version. Now he wanted to hear Arthur's to compare notes and hopefully steer these two on a conjoining path.

Arthur relays the events in a much shorter version and feels justified in his reasoning even though it upset Gwen. "So, what did I do wrong?"

"First, you never should have admitted to Gwen that you were doing it out of jealousy," Merlin suggests.

"That wasn't the only reason. I had plans to propose all along. Just not at that exact moment," Arthur admits.

"Well, what would your original proposal consist of?"

Arthur prattles off the idea he had been contemplating before his impulsiveness drove him to propose last night. He watches as his friend nods, he expression thoughtful.

"You need to surprise Gwen with your original proposal. Surely, she will forgive you then," Merlin says.

"I'm positive I'm already forgiven but I can't help feeling a bit of guilt for the suddenness of it all. I should have warned Gwen especially with it being in front of so many people. I just wanted it done and over with so there would be no question where my affections lie."

"I'm gonna need you to stop admitting to that. Just tell Gwen you love her more than anything and you just did not see the need to wait any longer. To sweeten the deal, you will surprise her with a new proposal. Just you and her. No audience."

"Right. I will need lots of flowers and candles. Can you make this happen, Merlin?"

Merlin smiles confidently. "Of course, I can. Just tell me when."

They enlisted Gaius's help in keeping Gwen busy and inside the castle walls while Merlin and a few servants placed candles and flowers all throughout Gwen's home. Arthur thought it would be the perfect setting as it was there where he and Gwen first realized their feelings for each other.

He finds her cleaning one of the rooms of Gaius's patients and walks up behind her silently. He places his hands over her eyes and whispers, "Guess who?"

Gwen gets over her startled state as soon as she hears Arthur's voice. "Arthur. What are you doing?"

"I want to take you some place very special but it's a surprise. Can I blind fold you please?"

She smiles, his hands still covering her eyes. "This sounds very intriguing. Yes, I'll allow you to blind fold me."

Arthur does just that and leads her carefully to her home, speaking to her softly and lovingly along the way. Once they are inside and he closes the door against the outside world, he removes the blind fold and allows her to take in their surroundings.

The house was all aglow with lighted candles on each raised surface. Flowers adorned the tables and their fragrance filled the air, reminding them of another special place of theirs…...the north garden.

Gwen gasps, "Oh Arthur. This is beautiful."

He leads her towards the table and seats her on the bench. She looks at him expectantly as Arthur takes her hand and goes down on one knee.

"Guinevere, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Gwen stares at him as emotions well up in her so strongly, she is unable to speak. She reaches forward and grabs Arthur in a tight hug.

Her silence and sniffles bother Arthur and he wonders what her answer will be as she is yet to speak. "Is that a yes?"

She immediately pulls back to look at him. "Oh sorry. Yes. Yes. Yes."

He places his mother's ring on her index finger, then leans forward and kisses her softly, gently. She accepts his kiss, seeking more from him as she places a hand on his chest, fisting his shirt to pull him closer. She opens her mouth, inviting him in, and they deepen their kiss, tasting and growing intoxicated on each other's sweetness.

They take a slight reprieve, coming up for air. "I love you," Gwen whispers against his lips.

"I love you too." He leans back to look into her eyes. "Am I forgiven?"

She kisses his hand, still clasped in hers. "There is nothing to forgive. We are where we're supposed to be and it doesn't matter how we got here."

[mintymiknow]

Just Friends | Han Jisung

Summary: A simple, perfectly normal friendship blossomed into something more, but the universe had other plans. In your case, perhaps things working out with your best friend would have been too good to be true.

[Jisung x Reader] [College AU] [WC: approx. 6.5k words]

Genre: Slight fluff but mostly angst(?)

A/N: I said I’d post this on Feb. 7 but I got excited lol. As I’ve said before, this imagine is essentially based on a very personal experience I went through not too long ago. It’s not that serious to most, trust me, but it really was a significant part of my 2019 journey. I chose Jisung for this imagine ‘cause the guy in my real-life experience has a very similar personality to Jisung! Please remember that what is written here does not reflect Han Jisung in real life (that boy is a precious sweetheart don’t touch me). And I know it’s an angst piece, but the “bonus” I’ve included at the end of this imagine is my current situation with the guy this whole thing is based on. Enjoy!

“Are you guys dating?”

“You guys look great together, honestly.”

“Do you like each other?”

“You seem like a couple!”

It wasn’t unusual for you to hear those words from a majority of your classmates; you and Han Jisung were certainly close, and if that person didn’t know you two personally, they’d definitely think something was going on between the two of you. From the soft yet lingering hugs, loving gazes, and literally leaning on each other when they day got rough, you and Jisung were very close.

Close friends, of course.

You first met Jisung in one of your classes as you both majored in the same thing. You met Felix first, since you were grouped with him for a project. And while you instantly clicked with him, Jisung was introduced not too long after, and you somehow became an inseparable duo.

In your defense, it was all very innocent. Just a normal friendship between a male and female trying to survive their first year in college. That was it, supposedly. Late night conversations to figure out how to solve equations, frantically running across campus to pass a paper that was due in a minute, and unhealthy fast-food lunches with the whole squad since time was scarce.

You don’t know when it started, but that innocent friendship began to blossom into a deeper creation, and you couldn’t stop yourself in time. It was, after all, sort of a culture in this university to not fall for your best friends.

You were sitting on the steps of your university’s outdoor bleachers, enjoying the warmth and breeze with your friends. “Ah, I’m so nervous.” you whine, eyes nervously scanning the notes you had scribbled onto a sheet of paper.

Seungmin chuckles, “Come on, we’ll be fine. It’s just another group report. What could go wrong?”

“Uh, are you totally overlooking the fact that our professor asks the most intense questions that could potentially roast our entire group?” you pout at the male, waving your notes around.

Seungmin shrugs, going over his own notes on his phone. Felix happily munches on his lunch before smiling, “You guys will do great, I believe in you!”

After those words, he proceeds to pouncing onto Hyunjin’s back, clinging onto him like a koala. Hyunjin chuckles in amusement, giving Felix a bite from his sandwich as the younger continues to cuddle into him. You then scoot over to Jisung, head instantly resting on his shoulder. “Are you that nervous?” Jisung grins.

You nod, “I hate speaking in front of the class. You know that.”

Jisung nods, pouting his lower lip in agreement, “I mean yeah, I’m the same.”

“Then you could imagine how nerve-wrecking this presentation is for me.” you sigh, “At least for your case, you’re a better public speaker than I am.”

“Nonsense.” Jisung laughs, reaching over to place his hand over your knee, “You’ll do just as well, even better!”

When you make incoherent pouting noises and mumbles, Jisung chuckles before giving your knee a few more gentle pats. “Y/n, you’re like one of the smartest people I’ve met here. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

You sigh, smiling to yourself. You continue to rest your head on his shoulder, looping your arms around to embrace his arm, “If you say so.”

After a while, you and Seungmin get up and prepare to return to your classrooms. Jisung gives your back a gentle rub before offering the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, “Good luck, y/n! I believe in you!”

You look back, flashing him a shy smile as you wave. Despite the buzzing of nerves, you take a deep breath and steel yourself for your presentation. Somehow, Jisung had given you the boost of confidence you needed.

“Ah, I can’t believe we’re finally done with our first year in university!” Felix yells, raising his fist in the air.

Seungmin laughs, “It wasn’t that bad, you know?”

“Yeah, you participated in a lot of events and whatnot.” you chuckle, “Did you even sleep?”

“I did, thank you very much.” Seungmin shakes his head in amusement.

Jisung slings his bag over his shoulder, wiggling his eyebrows, “Now that finals are over, how about we head to the mall for a little celebratory meal?”

“Then go bowling after?” you smirk, “There’s a bowling alley nearby.”

“That sounds like fun.” Hyunjin mirrors your devilish smirk, rubbing his hands together, “I say we go.”

Seungmin shrugs, “Yeah, we deserve this treat.”

Jisung claps and jumps like an overly excited child, “Alright, alright let’s go then!”

Your group begins to walk towards the campus’ main entrance. Hyunjin and Seungmin walk ahead, talking about their answers to the final exams you all just took a few minutes ago. Felix is busy on his phone, looking for a good restaurant to celebrate in. You and Jisung hang back, walking slowly yet closely. His arm constantly brushes against yours, and you can’t but feel a little giddy over the contact. You purse your lips to stop yourself from smiling, but Jisung notices nonetheless. “What’s so funny?” he asks.

You shake your head, “Nothing. I’m just happy, that’s all.”

Jisung gives you’re a cheeky smile as he wiggles his eyebrows some more, “Happy ‘cause you’re with me, right?”

“What, what?” you playfully scoff, “You’ve got a big ego there, Han Jisung! I’m happy to be with you all.”

Jisung hums, looking rather conceited as he crosses his arms across his chest, “Mhmm. Is that so, y/n?”

“Yes. I’m just very happy.” you give him a wink, followed by a finger-gun, “Very, very happy.”

Jisung laughs, not hesitating to wrap his arm around your shoulder, “Me too, y/n.”

Within seconds, you and Jisung are conversing with each other in your own little world; well, what was new? It was always like that between the two of you. Even if you were with your other friends, you and Jisung would always end up in your little bubble, sharing inside jokes and overly excited giggles.

You were both so immersed in your conversation about tacos and burritos, you didn’t notice Felix calling your name. “Ahh.” he groans, “Y/n! Sungie! My goodness.”

Hyunjin halts in his steps, allowing you and Jisung to fall in to step with him. Jisung looks at him curiously, tilting his head. “Can you two lovebirds stop flirting and listen to Felix first?” Hyunjin smirks gesturing over to Felix.

Jisung puffs his cheeks out, the pink tint very much visible on his skin. You clear your throat and nod at Felix, “What’s up, Lix?”

Felix grins, walking over to show you his phone screen, “These are the nicer restaurants in the mall. Where do you guys wanna eat?”

“Hmmm. This one looks good. I’m craving ramen.” you chuckle.

“Yeah, sounds good.” Seungmin agrees, scrolling through the menu using Felix’s phone, “Are you all good with this place?”

Hyunjin, Felix, and Jisung agree, and soon, the five of you are walking towards the restaurant. The time you spent there seemed to fly by, filled with laughter and taking pictures for Instagram. Hyunjin and Jisung held a competition on who could eat the most number spicy side dishes, and Felix was just constantly giving his moral support.

“Hey, Hyunjin’s starting to sweat.” you point out, chuckling as you hand him a glass of water.

“I can take it.” Hyunjin playfully glares at Jisung.

The latter stuffs his mouth with more side dishes, raising an eyebrow, “Can you really?”

Seungmin watches from the side, filming them with his phone, “You both are such idiots, but I’m loving this.”

“You won’t be loving it if their stomachs begin to act up.” you chuckle, trying to get the two males to concede and just eat their meal normally.

Seungmin sighs, plopping back down on his seat, “Hey, can you two wrap things up? We wanna go bowling already.”

Felix tugs on Hyunjin’s sleeve, looking at him with puppy-dog eyes, “Please?”

Hyunjin swallows his food before leaning back, heaving a deep breath, “Ok, ok, fine. I’m done.”

“Me too.” Jisung falls back, knocking into you as he laughs while patting his stomach, “Yeah, my shop’s closed now.”

“Great, now that we’re all done, let’s go bowling!” you chirp.

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

In the bowling alley, you decide to not split into teams and hold an individual competition instead. Clearly, Hyunjin didn’t want to lose and gave every turn his utmost best. You were there to just have a good time and laugh.

Oh, and hold Jisung’s hand.

As Seungmin and Hyunjin argued about the seemingly proper way to hold and release the bowling ball, Felix munched on some snacks while you sat on the seats, Jisung standing next to you. “Ah, those two won’t let up.” Jisung laughs, shaking his head as if disappointed in his friends.

“Excuse me, Han Jisung, but you were just as heated up when you and Hyunjin were eating the side dishes a while ago.” you laugh, giving him a smirk.

Jisung looks at you, feigning cluelessness as his eyes go wide, “Me? When? I don’t recall!”

You reach your hand out, fiddling with his own fingers as you look at him with a deadpan expression, “Yeah, sure, alright.”

Jisung chuckles, clearly amused with your reaction. He manages to take hold of your fingers twiddling with his. Now, with his hand clasped around yours, he grins, “Who do you think’s going to win this match? Me?”

You shake your head, scrunching your nose, “No. Felix will.”

“Ah, you’re mean.” Jisung laughs, gently swinging your intertwined hands.

He takes his eyes away from you, now watching as Seungmin takes his steps towards his bowling lane. As he busies himself watching the other male, he still has your hand enveloped in his. You look up at him softly, eyes swarming with a warm, honey-like glimmer as you study his features. When he breaks into a triumphant grin after Seungmin bowls a strike, you can’t help but giggle at how bright and overjoyed Jisung had looked. You truly loved that about him, among other things.

Seungmin walks over like a champion, eyes immediately cast onto yours and Jisung’s intertwined hands. Unfazed, he simply smirks before turning to Jisung, “You’re up.”

Jisung gives you a playful look before saluting, “Watch me beat all of you.”

You scoff, letting go of his hand as he walks towards the lane. “Felix is still going to win!” you call out, earning a very amused chuckle from Jisung.

After a few more rounds – and random hand-holding with Jisung while waiting for your respective turns – your little bowling tournament came to an end with Jisung emerging as the victor.

“Thank you, thank you.” he fake-cries, bowing and waving at a non-existent crowd, “Your support meant the world to me.”

“Wow, amazing. Inspiring.” Felix sighs, clapping his hands dramatically slow.

You shake your head, “My bet was on you, Lix. Too bad.”

Jisung runs over to you, pinching your cheek as an ocean-wide grin is plastered on his face. “See? See? I told you I’d win, y/n.” he wiggles his eyebrows, cheeks puffed out from how big he was smiling.

You playfully swat his chest, rolling your eyes, “Alright, alright. You can have this moment.”

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

The next activity you and the boys decided to do was go shopping. Of course, the minute you stepped foot into the retail store, Hyunjin was gone like the wind, dashing about and raking in various articles of clothing. Seungmin preferred to hang back, taking his time in browsing. You, Felix, and Jisung stuck together, and since you were the only female, you decided to pick outfits for the two of them.

After handing Jisung a few pairs of jeans and shirts, you and Felix waited outside the fitting room. Jisung later on came out, wearing what Felix called “Cool Outfit #1”. While Jisung looked good no matter what he wore, seeing him in a style you personally favored for a guy did things to your already faint heart. “So? Does it look good?” Jisung inquires, twisting his body around to show you and Felix the full outfit.

You nod, giving him a thumbs-up, “Looking good, Sung! It suits you!”

“Yeah!” Felix grins happily, “Try the other one now!”

As Jisung goes inside the fitting room once again, you and Felix look at each other at the same time. You raise an eyebrow quizzically, pouting your lip as Felix merely smirks at you. “What? What’s with the face?” you mumble.

Felix grins, “I know what you’re thinking, y/n.”

You sigh, crossing your arms, “I don’t want it, Lix. I…it’s risky.”

“Why?” Felix ponders out loud, “Liking him isn’t bad, y/n. You can’t deny your feelings.”

“Ssssh!” you hiss, pulling Felix farther away from the fitting room, “I know, I know. It’s just…being friends – being the way we are now – is the safest bet. Liking him is just going to ruin things. You know what our upperclassmen say.”

“Don’t fall for your best friend?” Felix states, “Yeah, I remember. But who’s to say you really can’t? You can’t help it if it actually happens, right?”

“Yeah, but…” you trail off, heaving another sigh, “Nevermind. Let’s not think about it right now.”

“If you say so.”

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

As the day began to end, you and the boys ended up by a boardwalk nearby, overlooking the ocean. Seungmin, as usual, began to take photos of the setting sun. Hyunjin sipped his drink while enjoying the breeze, talking to Felix about the choreography Lee Minho made for the dance club. You sat nearby, face content as the salty breeze kissed your skin with warmth. Jisung takes his place next to you, arms brushing against each other once again. You turn to face him, smiling softly, “What a way to end our first year, right?”

Jisung mirrors your expression, “It was a fun first year. Remember that time when Hyunjin was being chased by all these admirers during Valentines?”

“Oh gosh, yes.” you laugh, “He was terrified.”

You and Jisung continued to exchange stories about your rather eventful first year as college students. It was a mixture of light-hearted experiences, dramatic fights between friends, and tearful study sessions in the library; all of those made your first year very much memorable, especially with Han Jisung by your side.

And somewhere along the line of your emotional exchange of stories, Jisung had reached for your hand once again, clasping his around yours. You didn’t stop him, feeling the butterflies swarming in your stomach. A moment of silence stretches as the wind teases the two of you. You feel Jisung’s thumb gently caress the skin on the back of your hand, and somehow, nothing else matters – you don’t hear the other people chattering in the background, the laughter of Felix as Hyunjin makes a ton of jokes. Everything falls silent and still at this very moment.

“You know,” Jisung breaks the silence, voice hushed and mixed within the wind, “I never thought that we’d become this close.”

“Hmm?” you say, tilting your head innocently, “What do you mean?”

Jisung grins, “It’s just, I’m honestly amazed that you and I became really close friends. We’re able to be like this, you know? Like, I just never saw it coming.”

“Ah, I see.” you’re at a loss for words, and Jisung seems to pick up on it.

“But I don’t mind.” he smiles, “I’m actually really happy. You made my year so much better, y/n.”

You chuckle softly as a pleasant warmth takes over your body, “You’re so cheesy, Jisung.”

“I’m not kidding, I’m serious this time.” Jisung laughs, smiling wide.

You turn to face him, heart melting as you realize that Jisung was already looking at you with an indescribable softness. The sun’s setting aura reflects in his brown eyes as golden flecks, giving him an even more ethereal appearance.

“I’m just being a good friend.” you smile warmly, “It was really hard for me to find friends here, and so when Felix invited me over that one lunch break, it meant a lot. Then you came, Jisung.”

You then giggle softly, leaning your head on his shoulder, “I’m glad to have you through it all, so thank you for being here.”

“No,” Jisung rests his head on top of yours, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, “thank you, y/n.”

The waves below crash against the rocks, and through that, you’re reminded of how your feelings for Jisung came crashing against your heart and mind. The rocks couldn’t stop the waves crashing against them – it was part of nature, per se. In the same manner, your heart and mind – logical as they may be – couldn’t stop the rush of feelings you developed for the sunny Han Jisung.

The relentless crashing of waves would inevitably alter the form of rocks overtime, wearing and tearing them down eventually. Maybe your uncontrollable feelings would do the same to your fragile heart, but you didn’t know that. Not yet.

Over the next few weeks and even for a month or so, you and Jisung had constantly been chatting with each other. You were on break, so you went back to your hometown and so did he. The distance was obviously not a problem as you both messaged each other nearly 24/7. Conversations, as usual, ranged between light-hearted and fun topics, and even deeper more “philosophical” issues. An added “feature” to your conversations was you both lowkey flirted with each other now.

Pick-up lines? Yes. Subtle hints of attraction? Yes. Occasional jealous remarks over certain people? Yes. Random jokes that often had a “wanna go on a date” nature to them? Yes.

That carried on over to your sophomore year in college, and while you and Jisung remained the closest of friends, this year was inevitably a pivotal one.

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

You and Felix walked to the library to meet Seungmin, Hyunjin, and Jisung. Once you had spotted their table, you went over in an instant. “Took you guys long enough.” Seungmin teases.

You mockingly laugh, “Not everyone can finish a test as quick as you, Minnie.”

Jisung grins as you and Felix take a seat, “Too bad we don’t have many classes together. I’m starting to get sick of seeing Hyunjin’s face everyday.”

“The feeling’s mutual, Sung.” Hyunjin smirks, earning a high-five from Seungmin.

Felix chuckles, leaning his head on your shoulder, “I win ‘cause I get to see y/n everyday.”

A mischievous glint speckles in his eyes as his gaze falls onto Jisung. The latter shrugs it off coolly, opting to flash everyone a big grin, “Doesn’t matter. At least we all still have the same schedule for lunch break.”

After a few more minutes of talking and watching meme videos on YouTube via phones, Jisung stretches in his seat. He then nudges your side, “I need to find a book for social science. Can you help me look for it?”

“Ok, but wouldn’t Seungmin know better?” you say, already getting up either way.

Jisung stands, shrugging as a cheeky smile curls at his lips, “Yeah, but he said you’ve read a lot of books on social sciences, so you’d be a better judge.”

“Makes sense.” you chuckle.

With that, you and Jisung head to the second floor of the library in search for a book. Felix turns towards the other two, “The plan has been set into action.”

Seungmin shakes his head, smirking, “Wasn’t it set in motion months ago? When we went to the mall?”

“Whatever it is, it’s happening.” Hyunjin declares, leaning back on his chair.

Meanwhile, you begin to look through the aisles, eyes thoroughly scanning the shelf for any helpful sociology books. You turn to face Jisung, “What specific topic do you need to read abou – ”

You cut yourself short when you make eye contact with Jisung; the male had been staring at you. Nothing was wrong, per se, but the way he was gazing at you was different. What exactly, you weren’t sure, but there was definitely something different in his gaze. It was as if there was something deep in his eyes that needed to be set free like a wild animal. “Sungie?” you tilt your head.

Jisung swallows the lump in his throat before awkwardly smiling, “Y/n, I didn’t really bring you here to help me find a book.”

You hum in response, crossing your arms, “I figured as much…why ask me when you’re with Seungmin all the time? So, what did you really need?”

Jisung sighs, taking one bold step closer to you. You feel your heart going on a rampage in your chest, banging and thumping like a wild beast. Why was it suddenly so hot? Jisung clears his throat, handing you a small envelope. With a much more confident grin, he says, “Read it first, I’ll wait.”

You gently take the envelope and open it, revealing a pale pink sheet of paper. Handwritten on it was a message from Jisung, and as you started to read it, you couldn’t help but release a very big and giddy grin. Each word sent arrows through your heart, warming you up like a fuzzy blanket. You folded the paper and put it back in the envelope. Looking at Jisung shyly, you quietly speak, “Jisung, I don’t even know where to start. This is really sweet of you.”

“Hmm.” he smiles much gentler now, “The reason I wrote that was because I wanted to make it clear to you, y/n. I like you. I really do, more than a friend.”

You chuckle, dropping your gaze to the marbled floor. You’re at a loss for words; you know you like Jisung as well – you always have – and now that you’re hearing that he feels the same, you don’t know how to respond. You can’t seem to find the words, and you mentally smack yourself for being speechless at a time like this. Your heart wants to burst and say “I like you too”, but your overly logical mind is telling you to take it slow.

In the end, you muster the courage to look into Jisung’s eyes, “Jisung, I’m really honored that you feel like that towards me, and it really makes me happy to hear that. Really, really happy. Like you can’t even begin to understand how happy I am.”

You swallow a baseball-sized lump in your throat and clench your fists to try and stop them from shaking, “But I think I’d like to have more time to think about how to respond to this all. I’m sorry, Sungie. I’m not rejecting you, but I’m not exactly reciprocating your feelings completely. I’m just so sorry, I don’t know how to go about this.”

Jisung chuckles, bringing his hand up to pinch your cheek, “Y/n, don’t worry, I understand. I’ll wait, and whatever you decide on, I’ll be fine. You being my friend is my utmost priority, so take your time and make a choice you won’t regret.”

“Jisung…” you say quietly.

He winks, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze, “Don’t worry, ok? I needed to get if off my chest, and I’m just happy I still have you as a friend, y/n.”

You gently smile at him, “Thank you, Sung.”

About a month later, another semester had started, and the feelings you repressed towards Jisung had started to surface once again, this time much stronger and more definite. You both continued to bond closely, enjoying each other’s company whenever you were together. But something was off by this time. His messages were more abrupt than before, and he’d either take way too long to reply or wouldn’t reply at all. He’d avoid the whole “physical” element in your friendship, unlike before.

But, you didn’t seem to think to much of it, thinking that perhaps Jisung was just “respecting” your space since you still hadn’t given him a definite answer.

That is, until one evening, while you were on video call with Felix, you were blabbing about how much you liked Jisung and how he made you so happy. Contrary to what you were expecting, Felix’s reaction wasn’t as enthusiastic as you expected. In fact, he was more mellow, eyes looking somewhat pitiful and pained. Not really minding or paying attention, you continued to gush about Jisung.

“Y/n,” Felix starts slowly, “We need to talk about something.”

“What?” you smile.

Felix sighs, pursing his lips into a tight line, “It’s about Jisung.”

You don’t know whether to let your heart rejoice or clench in anxiety, but it ends up doing the latter by itself. “What about Jisung?” you say softly, nerves buzzing with uneasiness.

The male shakes his head apologetically, “Y/n, I can’t tell you much because it has to be between him and you, but all I’ll says is that whatever happens, it’s for the best, ok?”

“You’re scaring me, Lix.” you say rather deadpan, “Why are you saying things like this all of sudden?”

“I’m not in the position to tell you, y/n, I’m sorry. You and Jisung should talk, ok?” Felix ends with a warm smile, hoping it could somehow function as a virtual hug through your phone screens, “Whatever happens, we love you and are here, ok?”

“Hmmm.” you take a deep breath, forcing out a smile, “Love you too, Lix.”

That evening, you barely got any sleep as the negative, worst-case-scenario thoughts clouded your mind like nightmarish black ink.

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

A few days later, as you and the other boys were walking to your next class, Felix jogged up to walk next to you. “Jisung said he’s going to talk to you after class.” he whispers, looping an arm around yours.

You smile gently, nodding just once, “Ok then.”

Fast-forward to your class, wherein you sit right next to Jisung, you both ignored each other. Not a single word was exchanged, except for the formal questions in class such as “what do we do?” or “what’s the homework?”. Other than that, nothing at all. Not a glance, not a playful kick on the leg, not a random poke to the waist, nothing. Nothing compared to how lively your friendship was before.

After class, you, Felix, and Jisung walked out towards the quadrangle. You had an exam the next day, so you needed to return to your dorm immediately. However, you remembered that Felix said Jisung was going to speak to you.

It never came. He never pulled you aside and said “hey we need to talk” or anything like that.

He simply said his goodbyes, waved without looking at your face, and walked away to where Seungmin and Hyunjin were probably waiting. You sigh, pouting your lips at Felix, “I thought…?”

Felix raises his eyebrows, confusion painting his features, “I mean, yeah. He told me just this morning that he wanted to finally talk to you about something.”

“Guess he’s not ready.” you scoff in disbelief, “I don’t think I’m ready.”

Felix sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “No, you both need to address this already. Why is he like this? Ahhh, Han Jisung!”

You cover Felix’s mouth, shaking your head as you force a smile. Tears are now welling in your eyes as you use all your courage to speak, “Don’t force it, Lix. Maybe it’s for the best.”

“Then why are you crying?” he gently takes hold of your hand.

“Ah. ‘Cause I’m scared.”

“Why?”

You gently lean against Felix’s body, burying your face against his chest, “I really don’t know what he has to say. I don’t even know how much you know. But I just feel like I’m going to lose Jisung. Forget losing him as a potential lover. I’m pretty sure I’m starting to lose him as a friend. He’s successfully avoided me for a week, you know?”

Felix pulls you away just enough to look into your wet eyes, but before he can speak, you continue to whisper, “And you know what makes it worse?” you force another smile, a more bitter and crestfallen one, “It was all so sudden. Just last week, we messed around like best friends. This week, he treats me like a stranger and I don’t even know damn why.”

Felix pulls you against him again, stroking your hair gently, “I don’t know how to help you, y/n. As your best friend, I wish I could, but all I can do is be here for you. I hope you two work it out.”

“Thanks, Lix.”

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

You’ve spent a good few evenings crying yourself to sleep. It was a miracle you didn’t wake up the next day with puffy red eyes.

You’ve spent a good amount of your lunch breaks ranting and crying on Felix’s shoulder, occasionally on Hyunjin’s. Seungmin was far too busy with club activities in campus, but you knew he also had an idea of what was going on.

But on one particular morning before class, the emotional toll and overthinking snapped you once again, breaking any form of restrain that helped you keep your composure. As Hyunjin and Felix bought food to snack on for breakfast, you suddenly started to cry once again.

“Ah! Y/n! What’s wrong?” Hyunjin panics, putting his food on a table nearby so he could gently grip your shoulders.

You shake your head, sniffing and choking on your own tears, “Why is he like this? What’s going on between us? I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Hyunjin pouts his lip in sympathy, wiping your tears with the sleeve of his sweater. Felix rushes over, rubbing your back with soothing circles. “Take it easy, y/n. Deep breaths.”

Hyunjin crosses his arms, huffing out, “It’s that serious, huh?”

Felix nods, “I mean, of course it is. They were inseparable, and now they’re…yeah.”

You’ve managed to calm yourself, scratching the back of your neck before smiling weakly, “Nevermind, guys. Let’s just get our food before class starts.”

Not wanting to add to the tension, Hyunjin and Felix agree. The three of you walk to the next building in campus, looking for an empty table nearby so you could eat before heading to class. However, just before you could sit, a familiar figure approaches you from behind.

You see him from the corner of your eye, but you don’t have the courage to actually face him; so you ignore his presence. Jisung, however, gently places a hand on your shoulder, urging to you turn and face him. You look at him, feigning surprise and cluelessness as you do so. Jisung sighs, eyes worried and sad, “Y/n, can we talk for a moment? Outside?”

You gulp. This was it. This was the dreadful moment. Your nervous eyes glance at Hyunjin and Felix who seem to gesture for you to go ahead. You bring your gaze back to Jisung and nod slowly, “Ok.”

Jisung leads you away from the other two, finding a set of benches the two of you can sit on. Once you’ve both settled, a very stale and awkward silence surrounds you two. You clasp your hands together, eyes permanently glued to the ground. After a moment, Jisung clears his throat and finally speaks up, “Y/n, listen. I know things have been…weird between the two of us.”

You nod, still refusing to face him, “Yeah, I kind of noticed that. Did I do something?”

“I promise it isn’t your fault, y/n. It’s probably mine.” Jisung admits, bowing his head slightly, “And I’d really like to apologize for that.”

“I…” you start, shaking your brain to find the right words, “I just want to know what really happened, Jisung.”

Jisung sits straighter, eyes serious yet full of warmth, “I…I wanted to talk to you about what I said months ago – about liking you.”

You felt a pang in your heart; you knew the “thing” Jisung needed to talk to you about had something to do with his – and maybe your – feelings. Once you nod, the male continues to speak, “I know I confessed to liking you, and that I’d wait for your answer. I told you that you could take your time, and I’d respect your decision.”

“Mhmm.” you nod again, clasping your hands together even tighter.

Jisung takes a deep breath and finally drops the bomb, “Y/n, I’ve moved on. I’m seeing someone else.”

Those words felt like death. Your heart was seized and tossed onto the ground, trampled on with spikes and a force you couldn’t comprehend. Jisung’s silence stings you as well, and before you know it, the familiar feeling of tears have started to gather in your eyes. You blink, look up, squeeze them shut, but nothing you do stops the fallen tears. You know Jisung has started to panic, eyes going wide as the tears stream down your face. “Ah, y/n…” his voice trails off.

You chuckle quickly, shaking your head and forcing a smile as usual, “Ah, I’m sorry. Don’t mind me, please.”

“No, please. Y/n, I want to hear you. I want to know what you have to say.” Jisung gently rubs your back.

At this, you smile again, biting your lip as you form your words in your head. You then finally raise your head, eyes meeting Jisung’s gentle gaze, “Jisung, it’s ok. It would be wrong for me to have expected you to still like me all this time when I never gave you a decent answer.”

“You know I really still do treasure you, ok?” Jisung offers a melancholic smile, “You deserve the world, y/n, and I know someone else can give you that, not me.”

You return the nature of his smile, the expression on your face broken yet calm, “I was too late, wasn’t I?”

Jisung’s eyes trail down. He pouts his lip in thought before finally meeting your eyes again. With a soft smile, he says, “No, please. Don’t blame yourself over this, y/n.”

You chuckle, wiping your tears away. “Since when, Sung?”

“I was meaning to talk to you a week ago or so, but I couldn’t bring myself to do so. I didn’t want to see you like…this.” he gestures to your tear-stained face and tired eyes. “I never wanted to hurt you like this, yet I did.”

It’s your turn to shake your head; a mellow smile curls at your lips as you look at Jisung with softened eyes, “It’s safe to say we’re both at fault, Jisung, so there’s no point in blaming someone. It’s ok, really. I’m just glad you finally talked to me. The tension between us was killing you, me, and even the other boys.”

“Ah yeah.” Jisung awkwardly chuckles, “Felix wouldn’t stop nagging me, nearly whining like a child each day.”

“Sounds about right.” you lightly joke.

You and Jisung share a light moment of laughter before you both fall back into silence. You sigh, smiling as you speak once again, “After all the deep and emotional conversations we’ve had in the past, and how you always open up to me about certain things, I made a promise to myself. I said I’d do anything in my power and ability to make sure you were happy, Jisung. You’ve made me so happy, so I just want to return the favor and ensure your happiness.”

You turn to him, poking his cheek lightly as you gently chuckle, “And if it takes letting you go to make sure you are the happiest man alive, then so be it.”

“Hey.” Jisung grins, gently wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “I still want to be your friend, ok? I’m still the person you can laugh and joke with. I’m still the person you can prank. I’m still your emotional support buddy. I’m still your friend, and nothing changes that, ok?”

“That’s more than enough.” you smile, turning your head to look back at Felix and Hyunjin, “Friends.”

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

After that whole fiasco and surviving another class, you and the boys decided to head out for lunch. Hyunjin and Jisung walked ahead, leaving you and Felix beside each other. “How’d it go?” Felix asks, eyes worried and cautious.

You smile, “I’m sure you knew what he had to say, but…we’re good I guess. We’re on good terms.”

“That’s good.” Felix gives you a small smile, “It wasn’t easy for Jisung to do this as well, and I’m sure it was harder for you.”

“I’m still not fully in the whole acceptance part, Lix.” you chuckle, “I’ve accepted it to an extent, but to really take it to heart and move on from the truth, that’s different.”

He nods, “Wounds take time to heal, y/n. But, on the bright side, you’re strong and you have us, so you’ll be fine eventually.”

“Hmmm.”

He sighs, eyes soft once again, “But…how are you, really?”

You’ve somehow mastered the art of smiling like everything was in perfect shape. With that, you smile and answer, “I’m hurt, but I’ll get better. I have to.”

“Besides,” you say quietly, “I just want to make Jisung happy in the same way he made me happy. And since someone else has made him extremely happy, I’m more than willing to let him go.”

“You can still make him happy as his friend, alright?”

“Yeah, I know. I’m happy as long as he’s happy.”

You shift your gaze forward to see Jisung laughing with Hyunjin.

Ironically, a tear slips down your cheek one more time.

ღ  BONUS: Two months later

Jisung leans over, eyes never leaving the whiteboard as he whispers, “Are you actually listening to this lecture?”

You lean over as well, shaking your head in response, “Not at all. You?”

“Hmm, no.” Jisung admits with a deadpan expression, “So I don’t get what he’s saying.”

“Yeah, same here.” you nod, crossing your arms.

You both look at each other, locking eyes as a mischievous glint swims in both your irises. Jisung smirks deviously, nodding his head towards the door, “As soon as this class ends, let’s cut the next class so we can grab some food.”

“Cut the class?” you raise an eyebrow, mirroring his smirk, “I’m telling your girlfriend that you’re a rebel. A delinquent. Better yet, I’ll tell your mom.”

“Ssssh. Fine, we won’t cut. Let’s just be late.” Jisung wiggles his eyebrows, “Hyunjin will be in class ahead anyway. Let’s get some food, eat it quickly, and get to class late. I know you want it, y/n. You’re just as hungry as me.”

You laugh to yourself, shaking your head, “Fine, fine. I am really hungry. Gosh, I hate you.”

Jisung smiles proudly, but before he can say anything, your professor says, “Mr. Jisung, Ms. y/n, care to share anything?”

You shake your head with a smile, only for Jisung to reply, “Sir, we were just discussing what you said earlier about globalization being a powerful tool in today’s society and economy.”

“Very well.” your professor smiles, turning back to the board.

“You said you weren’t listening.” you argue.

Jisung laughs, “Yeah, I just made that up now.”

“Oh my gosh.”

[silke-doomflare]

A fateful encounter

Valentione’s day had always been one of Lareine’s favorite festivals, but this year she was somewhat disappointed. After a long, loud argument from both sides, Varg had let her drop her duties at the manor and travel to Gridania. Lareine had asked Varg to join her, but he had stated most of festivals to be just claptrap and waste of time. Lareine had asked Arsene too, but he had politely declined and also mentioned something about jobs undone.

She had never, ever seen either of them having fun! Did they even, ever? If not, how it was even possible? Lareine was certain if one didn’t party hard time to time, they’d eventually get sick from too much work or go crazy without themselves even noticing. She would definitely need some help in softening them, she thought. It took way too much time to do alone.

It was already getting late, but it didn’t slow down the celebrators. Colorful fireworks dappled the black sky and lanterns were kindled. Some of them were sent flying and some sailing. Every place was full of beautiful colors, delicious food and good music.

Most of Lareine’s money had gone to airship tickets, but she still had a couple of gil left. She ended up buying a stick with cotton candy on it from one of the stalls. Where would she get money from to get back to Ishgard? No point worrying about it now. Time to party! She wouldn’t let some stiff old men ruin her fun.

Lareine was wandering around the faire, watching people come and go. Everyone else had someone with them. People had either come there with their spouses, dates, family or friends. She seemed to be the only one by herself.

Like cherry on the top of her jealousy was the damned love labyrinth. People who entered had to go through the labyrinth without straying too far from each other, while dodging moogle traps. When they got through, their names were announced to the cheering crowd nearby, and they also got cute prizes to take home: heart shaped cakes, cookies, pink ribbons, plushies… Gods damn it, what Lareine wouldn’t have given for a pink mammet toy with a heart shaped tuft on her night desk?

Suddenly Lareine bumped into something - or someone, she thought to herself, when she heard another surprised, high-pitched cry in addition to her own. She was too slow to grab a better hold of her pink cotton candy, and she could almost see the horrendous situation in slow motion, as her precious delicacy fell towards the sandy, partly muddy ground. There was a soft thud, and she noticed strawberry soft ice with marshmallows in it, laying at her feet next to her cotton candy. Shocked, Lareine lifted her gaze from the ground to in front of her, and was staring into huge, turquoise eyes framed by ash black, messy hair and round eyeglasses. The otherwise cute, bookwormish appearance didn’t fit at all with long, black, high-heeled thighboots and detailed, pompous looking robe usually worn by archmages. The female viera didn’t seem many years younger than Lareine was. “How dare you?! Look what you did!” she screamed, pointing at Lareine with a pale, petite hand with long, black claws and pretentious, huge ring in its index finger. “Watch where you’re walking!” Lareine inhaled deeply. “Get a new fockin’ pair o’ glasses, four-eyes, and watch where yer goin’! Tha heck ya doin’ ‘ere alone aniway??” she cried loudly with as unattractive voice as she possibly could whatever happened to pop up into her mind. “Yer boyfriend left ya, because yer a such a clumsy fockin’ shite? Ya lost ‘im into da heckin’ labyrinth, ya blind excuse for a friggin’ ‘little miss moonshine?!” They both fell silent for a moment, during which the viera’s facial expressions shifted very fast. First she looked aghast, then furious, then suddenly, distinctively accidentally jubilant, and finally annoyed for letting herself slip. They both burst into hysterical laughter at the same time. Lareine wasn’t even sure what they were laughing at, but she guessed eventually they were just laughing at each other laughing. Finally the viera managed to gather her self control enough to stop giggling and wiped a tear from her eye. Some passers by were eyeing at them disapprovingly, but she didn’t seem to care. “Oh gods…”, she blurted and briefly examined her clothing, probably making sure there was no ice-cream in it. “You sound like a vulture.” Lareine opened her mouth and was very close to start yelling again, but then the viera added, grinning kindly: “They’re my favorite birds.” Lareine closed her mouth, while the viera took a step closer and offered her hand. “Silke Doomflare”, she introduced herself, trying to sound formal, but her huge, beautiful doe eyes and extravagant make-up watered it down quite effectively. They shook hands. “I’m so, so sorry about my outburst”, Silke started to explain, while shaking Lareine’s hand very rapidly. “You know, I’ve had the absolute, worst day ever… actually the worst week ever and this was my first chance in ages to have some fun, and then…” She shook her head. “But you’re absolutely right. I should’ve watched where I’m going. And I mean, pff, it’s just ice-cream”, she made a dismissive gesture with her other hand. “I can just buy a new one.” Finally Silke noticed she had forgotten they were still holding hands, and she quickly yanked it away like she had just gotten electrocuted. Lareine blinked at the fuzzing viera in front of her. A weird sensation washed over her. Was it the suddenly died outburst? Or the huge, pretty doe eyes behind those round glasses? Or this weird girl holding her hand? Lareine had not felt like this since… “N… No, I should ‘ave watched where I go”, Lareine confessed. “I was lost in mi  thoughts. It’s been friggin’ ages since my last visit to any public happenin’. Name’s Ir... Uhh... Lareine, by tha way. Lareine Kira.” The name brought a sour taste on the viera’s tongue, but what could she do? Better safe than sorry.

Would it have been inappropriate to shake hands again? Lareine scolded herself for even thinking about it.

“I dink I spent mi last gil onto dat friggin’ sweet, but whutever”, she continued. “I’m gettin’ an overdose o’ sugar o’ dese decorations and lovebirds all over da place anyway.” Lareine put her hands behind her back and shifted her weight from one foot to another. “So.. DID ya lose yer boyfriendo into da friggin’ maze?” Silke stared at Lareine in disbelief, blinked her eyes for a few times and then gave an incredulous laugh. “Honey, please”, she said, while making the dismissive gesture with her hand again. “I’m way too busy with my magick studies to waste my precious time on boys. Besides, they mostly just manage to annoy me. You know, most of them I’ve met…”, she lowered her voice into a whisper. “…have their brain down there.” She pointed somewhere towards the ground. “And I really enjoy the old-fashioned, functioning brain more than -” Suddenly she closed her mouth so quickly Lareine could hear a faint snap. “Oh gods, I sound like a zombie!” Lareine could almost see into Silke’s head, how it was cramped full of old, dusty bookshelves. Silke wasn’t quite sure where things were stored, and when she tried to take something from the dangerously swaying pile, a bunch of others also fell out. “I’ve been holding you back for a good while already, Lareine”, Silke noted finally, interrupting Lareine’s thoughts. “Allow me at least to buy a new cotton candy for you before I go.” “N-no need”, Lareine exclaimed, shaking her head and lifting her hands in front of her. “Like I said, I already ‘ad an overdose o’ -” “Then allow me to give you money for something else you’d like -”, Silke was digging something up from her pocket. “N-no, I don’t wanna -”, Lareine tried to deter. “Take the damn money or I’ll throw it into the nearest lake!” Silke hissed, gently grabbed Lareine’s wrist and dropped a bunch of gil on her palm. The coins were so shiny they looked like brand new. The mage bowed politely and was about to turn to leave. “Actually..!” Lareine cried out. “Ya haven’t been ‘olding mi back, Silke. Quite the contrary! Tha main reason I was on such a bad mood was because I ‘ad to come ‘ere all alone. Tha only two I asked to come wid mi are soo fockin’ busy all tha time, damn married with deir works dey are…” Silke blinked again, looking surprised. Then she laughed. “Are you kidding me? I could’ve said that.” Lareine looked at her curiously, while she continued: “I also asked my sister to come with me here, and she, too, declined - surprise, surprise: because of work! So I came alone.”

They stared at each other for a moment. “Well, if ya insist -”, Lareine started and slipped the coins into her pocket. “Well, if I’m not disturbing -”, Silke started at the same time. They both fell silent, waiting for the other one to say their thing first. A stubborn smile tried to creep its way on Silke’s face. “Show me where the damn cotton candy shop is”, she ordered grandiloquently, while pointing randomly somewhere towards the crowd. “We go there first. And then we go to the ice-cream shop. And after that… hmm, do you happen to like games?”

[pocket-luv101]

Summary: Kuro and Licht starts a band called Checkmate with Mahiru as their songwriter. (KuroMahi/LawLicht, Band AU)

(Part 1-KuroMahi) // Part 2-LawLicht

“Thanks for giving me this backstage pass, Nii-san. It would’ve been better if you’d let me do an article about your idol group forming but this is still good.” Hyde lightly probed his brother but Kuro grunted in answer. The rejection was clear though. “Checkmate has never sat down for an interview before. If I can write an article with quotes from your band, it will help my career! A few pictures would be great too.”

“You’re my brother and I want to help you but Checkmate is more than just me. That delusional angel I sing with hates interviews and reporters. Mahiru will be mad at me if I accepted an interview without talking to him and Licht first.” Kuro had explained why he couldn’t have an interview with him several times already.

He still wanted to help his brother so he gave him the backstage pass to the charity event they were holding with a few other bands. “There will be other idol groups playing so you can corner one of them for an interview.”

“None of them will be as good though.” Hyde muttered and crossed his arms. A year ago, his brother started an idol group and they called themselves Checkmate. Their family was surprised when he told them about his decision. Kuro had never showed any interest in music or fame before. Even after Checkmate gained popularity, he rarely interacted with fans or the press. Hyde spoke his thoughts out loud. “Why did you decide to become a singer?”

His answer came running down the hall and calling his name.

“Kuro!” Mahiru stopped in front of them. He was out of breath and Kuro wondered how long he had been searching for him. He gripped his arm and started to drag him down the hall. “There was a mix up with your costume and we have to do some adjustments. Licht is waiting in the dressing room already and—Oh, hello, Hyde. Are you here to watch your brother perform?”

“I’m looking forward to hearing him sing but I’m here for work.” He told him and held up his reporter’s badge. “Reporting on these events seem to be the only time I get to talk with my brother. I’m happy that he has gotten famous but he has been busy since you three created Checkmate.”

“Kuro has been working hard for the band but his family is still very important to him.” Mahiru was quick to defend Kuro and reassure Hyde. In the corner of his eyes, Kuro noticed the sly grin his brother had. They were childhood friends with Mahiru so they both knew how compassionate he was. Kuro realized that his brother intended to trick Mahiru into letting him interview the idols group.

“Hyde.” He said as a warning. Kuro didn’t want his brother to take advantage of Mahiru’s kindness.

“I have an idea. Would you like to come with us? You can talk with Kuro while I sew a few things onto his costume. I’m sure Licht won’t mind if you come into the dressing room with us.” Mahiru suggested. “The band was invited to a dinner with the manager of the event but I can find a way for you to skip. That will give you two free time to hang out.”

“Didn’t we hire Kranz to be our manager so you would have less work, Mahiru? Have him talk to the event organizers and come to dinner with us.” Kuro admired Mahiru’s work ethic but he didn’t want him to overwork himself. He worked as their assistant but he was truly the writer of Checkmate’s songs. Mahiru preferred to be anonymous and keep his life simple.

“It would be nice to eat and catch up. Hopefully, we can find a place where no one will recognize Kuro and mob him.” Mahiru joked as they walked into the dressing room. He glanced around the room and frowned slightly. “Where did Licht go? His costume is finished but I told him to wait here so we can go through the routine once.”

“Maybe he stepped out.” Kuro shrugged. In the corner of his eyes, he saw Hyde make a disappointed expression. He didn’t know why he would be disappointed since he wasn’t close with Licht nor did he know him. He brushed off the thoughts and decided not to pry into his brother’s life.

“I’m going to text him. Here’s your costume, Kuro. Hurry up and get changed so we can get you ready for the stage.” Mahiru handed him the black costume and lightly pushed him behind the changing screen. As they waited for him to finish, he sat in front of the vanity and organized the makeup. Kuro was an attractive man so Mahiru didn’t think he needed to wear makeup.

“You’re a reporter now, Hyde?” Mahiru phased it as a question even though he already knew the answer. “I read an article you did on the idol contest. You didn’t give your own opinion on the results. Is there an idol or group that you enjoy?”

“It’s kinda lame.” Hyde evaded his question. “There are a lot of groups and bands here so I might like one of them. Checkmate is the main event, I hear.”

“Kuro and Licht shine on stage and their passion always show.” Mahiru said proudly. He helped create the band when they were teenagers and he had seen how hard the two worked. He recalled the long nights he would stay up with Licht to make songs as Kuro sketched costumes. While Kuro could appear lazy, he knew how determined he would be once he found something or someone he loved.

Kuro stepped out from behind the changing screen. “I’m finished. What do you think?”

“Nice and simple.” Mahiru had seen him wear many costumes for different performances but he would never stop feeling his heart skip with each one. He carefully placed lipstick on his lips and then walked to Kuro. He stood on his toes and pressed his lips onto Kuro’s cheek to create a kiss mark as part of his costume. As Mahiru pulled back, Kuro leaned forward to steal a quick kiss.

“Kuro, you can’t do that in front of your brother!” Mahiru blushed. He reached up and gently wiped the lipstick from Kuro’s lips caused by the quick kiss. He tried to hide how his kiss affected him and lightly pushed him into a chair. “Sit down so I can tie up your hair. Be careful to not smudge that lipstick mark. I don’t want a repeat of last week where I had to re-apply it five times.”

Hyde watch Mahiru brush his brother’s hair and a thought came to him. “That lipstick mark is incorporated in most of your costumes. Is that how you usually make the mark?”

“We had stamps made for Kuro and Licht so they can put the lipstick mark on themselves easily. Kuro keeps losing his stamp though. No matter how many times I lecture him on being organize, he’ll misplace it somewhere. Thinking simply, it’ll be easier for me to make the kiss mark like this rather than buy new stamps.” Mahiru told him.

He didn’t notice the small grin Kuro wore but Hyde did. He very much doubted that his brother lost the stamps on accident. His suspicion was confirmed when Kuro touched the kiss mark and said: “Oops, it got smudge. Can you fix it for me?”

“I’ll borrow your catchphrase and say: troublesome.” Mahiru rolled his eyes but then he giggled softly. He wiped the lipstick from his cheek before he kissed him again. He couldn’t pretend to be irritated for long and smiled. “I don’t mind doing this since we’re dating but don’t get too greedy, Kuro.”

“You two haven’t changed.” Hyde rolled his eyes and slipped out of the room to give them privacy. He was happy that his brother was in a loving relationship but he didn’t want to watch them flirt with each other. There was only so long he could listen to their corny lines before he developed a cavity. He started to close the door but then he paused when a hand wrapped around him over the doorknob. Beside him, sharp blue eyes stared back at him. He forced him to close the door and let go of his hand.

Licht glared at the man he thought was spying on his friends. His eyes fell onto the reporter badge around his neck and roughly shoved him away from the dressing room. Hyde was too shocked by the man’s sudden appearance for him to quickly regain his balance. He fell back against the wall and Licht slammed his hand next to him. “What are you doing spying on people? This is why I hate reporters.”

Hyde stumbled over his words to make a proper reply but he was starstruck. He never told his brother but he was a big fan of Checkmate. At first, he merely bought their CDs to support his brother but quickly became entranced by their songs. A large reason he enjoyed their music was Licht and his angelic voice. He reported on many celebrities and he knew someone with Licht’s talent was rare.

He could still remember the first time he heard him sing. Before they formed the group, they would write songs in Kuro’s room. He overheard them and thought he heard the voice of an angel. Hyde was too nervous to talk to him when he was a teenager.

Hyde’s silence irritated Licht. The way he wouldn’t meet his eyes made him think that he was guilty of spying on Kuro and Mahiru for a gossip story. Mahiru was his best friend and he hoped to start an idol group with him. Mahiru told him that he didn’t want to be in the spotlight and Licht respected that. With that thought, he wouldn’t allow a reporter to make an article about his friend.

“Reporters like you have no respect for people’s privacy. Don’t you dare publish anything about Mahiru.” Licht ordered. He grabbed his collar and forced Hyde to meet his eyes. “Don’t think I’ll hesitate to punish you because of Checkmate’s public image. If you make Kuro and Mahiru’s relationship public, I will take your camera and shove it—”

The door opened beside them and Mahiru peered out of the room. “There you are Licht. What are you doing to Kuro’s brother? Let him go right now!”

“Brother?” He knew that Mahiru wouldn’t lie to him and looked back to the man’s reporter badge. Licht found that the man had the same last name as Kuro. He realized that the man was likely only visiting his brother. He stepped back and muttered, “Sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay.” Hyde could see that Licht was sincerely sorry for his assumption and action.

“We’ll talk about this later but we need to get ready for the charity event. Checkmate is going on stage in twenty minutes.” Mahiru took Licht’s arm and pulled him into the room. He waved to Hyde and said, “You can come in and talk as long as you leave your reporter badge on the table.”