#I’ve been a bit frustrated with my art lately and this loosened me up a bit

[addamii]

If Alecto is a barbie world in a barbie girl, then Nona is living in a material girl and she is a material world

Available as a print here :)

[alwaysmarveling]

The Incident, The Aftermath

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Warnings: Amputation, an explosion, hints at PTSD (it’s a wee bit sad but I promise it gets happier)

Word Count: ~3k

A/N: So I finally got the guts to post something... If you like it, thank Camz :) If you don’t, sorry mi dude, I’m working on it (but constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!).

You’d slipped into the tank top and shorts easily enough, and here you were standing in front of your dresser. One look at the unruly mop atop your head caused you to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You carefully ran the brush through your hair, allowing the knots to loosen up one by one.

You’d been leaving your hair down every day since The Incident, but that was two weeks ago. Assuming everything healed properly, Tony and Bruce were going to fit you for a prosthetic in a week, but until then you had to work with what you had… which was one less arm than you were used to having your entire life.

The universe wasn’t being very thoughtful of your adjustment—it was supposed to get up to ninety-five degrees today—so maybe today would be the day to try putting it up. You had seen some people do it on YouTube, and it didn’t seem that difficult. Plus, if you had enough dexterity to wield a knife with one hand and still leave your opponent in pieces, you should be able to put up your hair with one hand easy peasy.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, unsure of what to really do with it. You didn’t see a braid working. You could pin some of it to the side so that it wouldn’t fall in your face, but with the heat, you wanted it completely up. A messy bun could work, though; it was simple, got the hair off of your neck, and it was meant to be a bit untidy. Perfect. With the style in mind, you pushed an elastic around your wrist and set off to work.

Twisting your hair was easy enough. Looping it around to actually form a bun was slightly more difficult, but you managed. When it came time to actually loop the elastic around the bun, though, things got more complicated.

You copied the video, pressing your head against the wall to hold your hair in place while you secured the elastic. However, looping the elastic around the bun without significantly shifting your hair was proving to be extremely difficult. Nevertheless, you managed to do it. The mirror then filled with your reflection as you examined your handiwork.

Handiwork was one word for it. Simply put, it looked like a toddler had done your hair. You weren’t sure how exactly you had messed up since you couldn’t really see behind your head, but you could see the result, and it wasn’t pretty. You let out a puff of air, pulling the elastic out and reaching for your brush. One glance at the clock told you you had enough time for two or three more attempts before you had to call it a day.

Five tries later, you were no better off than you were before. Sure, the bun was supposed to be messy, but there was a certain art to a messy bun. This just looked like a giant cat spit a hairball on top of your head. On top of that, you were now running late to meet Wanda for grocery shopping.

“Miss Y/N,” FRIDAY started.

“Tell her I’ll be down in five,” you sighed, your eyes brimming with tears. You supposed one more day of leaving your hair down wouldn’t kill you even if it was going to be hot, but you just wanted to be able to take care of yourself. You hated seeing the looks of sympathy your teammates gave you every time you had to ask for help for the simplest things, whether it be grabbing a plate at the bottom of the stack or setting up equipment for training.

Sure, things were getting a little easier, like dressing yourself without help. You could deal with the phantom pain. It was excruciating, but pain was one part of the job that you were used to. You had also managed to hide your frustration from the team pretty well since The Incident, but you weren’t sure if that made it any better; half of them seemed like they were walking on eggshells when they were around you.

When it came to the nightmares, though, that was much harder to hide, especially considering you shared a bed with one of the lightest sleepers in the world. You hated waking her up every night, your body soaked in sweat and chest heaving as you forced yourself to remember that it was all over, forced your mind to believe that you were safe even when your body didn’t.

Before you could really understand what was happening, your emotions from the last few weeks bubbled over. Anger, frustration, anguish, and countless others flew to the surface, demanding to be released. Your fingers dug into your hair, yanking on the elastic—along with several strands of hair—until they flew out, hitting the floor somewhere you didn’t care to find. The hairbrush was next, being snatched from the top of the dresser and chucked at the door as hard as you could manage.

“What the- Y/N? Are you okay, babe?”

The thwack of the brush hitting the door caused you to flinch even though you were the one who caused it. Not processing your girlfriend’s muffled words at first, your eyes widened as you stepped back, and for a split second you were transported back to The Incident.

---

You grabbed the last civilian who had fallen behind the others, practically tossing them out of the building before it could explode.

“Y/N! Get out of-” Before Steve could finish his sentence, the building burst into flame, and the blast sent you flying in the air.

When you came to, the only thing you could focus on was the excruciating pain radiating from your elbow. You couldn’t make out exactly what had happened to it, but, wow, to say it hurt was an understatement.

It was several minutes later before the ringing cleared from your ears and you finally realized someone was talking to you.

“Y/N! Y/N, love, please, where are you?” The familiar voice drove you to use the little energy you had left, lifting your head off of the pavement to scan your surroundings. The dust and debris from the explosion made it difficult to see, but you could just make out her shape a few feet away from you.

“Turn… around, you doofus… I’m… behind you,” you wheezed out before letting your head hit the ground.

“Y/N! Oh my god, I thought we-” The second the former assassin saw you, her mouth dropped.

“What is it, Natty?” you asked weakly.

“Nothing, sweetheart. Just give me a second, okay? I’m going to get the rest of the team so we can get you out of here.”

“Liar,” you wheezed, half-teasing, half-panicked, but your girlfriend had already turned around. Squinting your eyes, you could just make out the small movements of her lips that told you she was talking, but the chaos and your pain and exhaustion—and probably blood loss, but you didn’t know that at the time—was making it impossible to hear what she was saying.

“Okay, they’re coming,” she reassured you, kneeling down next to you.

“What happened?” you tried again.

“You’re a hero, babe,” the redhead murmured, smoothing back your hair and brushing dirt from your face.

“Yeah?” Your voice was growing weaker, and you were becoming loopier than someone who had just come out of wisdom teeth surgery. Natasha knew it was only moments until you passed out.

“Yeah, you did it, sweet girl. You saved them all.”

“I did? I seriously hope Helen is a superhero too because someone’s going to need to save my arm. God, it hurts.” Natasha only let out a huff at your poor attempt at a joke, but you appreciated it nonetheless.

“Just hold on a little longer for me, okay? Can you do that?” Something wet hit your cheek, making you realize that your girlfriend was crying.

“Of course,” you scoffed. “Don’t…” You left her hanging.

---

After what felt like years, you finally regained your breath and returned to the present. “I’m fine,” you yelled out, your voice wavering. You knew Natasha wouldn’t believe you. Not only was she your girlfriend, but she was literally one of the best spies in the world. Sure enough, she tried to open the door, her efforts in vain since you’d locked it when you were changing.

“Hon, can you please open the door?”

“I’m fine, Nat,” you breathed out, your tone slightly more stable.

“Just let me in,” she pleaded. “Please?” Her soft voice made you sigh in resignation as you wiped your eyes. You tugged your fingers through your hair, trying to tame the bird’s nest on your head at least a little before showing yourself to her.

“Hi,” you practically whispered, not making eye contact with her once you had opened the door.

“Hey,” she responded softly, taking your hand in one of hers and using her other hand to lift up your chin. Rather than saying anything else immediately, she pressed a soft kiss to the top of your forehead as her second hand slid down to completely wrap your one hand in both of hers. The two of you stood in the doorway for a while, eyes closed and hand in hand. You weren’t a super soldier, but you were sure you could hear both of your heartbeats, yours slowing down to beat in tandem with hers.

“You okay?” she finally asked. You nodded slightly, your breathing now back to normal and the tears no longer streaming down your face.

Natasha always had a way of calming you down. You didn’t get frustrated or angry often, but when you did… the rest of the Avengers always joked that you were seconds away from becoming the next Hulk.

The former assassin slowly reached up to untangle your locks, noticing how you flinched when she first reached your hairline.

“I’ve been thinking,” she started with the faintest hint of uncertainty, “It’s been a while since I did your hair, and I saw this new hairstyle online that I thought would look really good on you…”

“Thank you,” you sighed quietly as you leaned into her touch.

“My pleasure,” your girlfriend smirked, pushing you inside your shared bedroom and closing the door behind her. She guided you to sit on the floor as she sat on the edge of the bed behind you. Brush in hand, Nat started sectioning off your hair. A small smile graced her face when you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to fully enjoy the contact.

Now halfway down your head, she spoke up again. “You know I’ll always be here for you, right?

“Nat…” you warned, although you had nothing to say afterwards, and the redhead took advantage of that.

“I can only imagine how upset you feel about losing your arm-”

“Nat,” you interrupted, your voice slightly harder this time. Natasha sighed as she continued to braid your hair.

“I’m just trying to say that I’m here for you. I was here for you before, and I’m here for you now. The number of limbs that you have doesn’t affect that. It also doesn’t affect your worth. You’re not useless, Y/N. You never were, and you certainly aren’t now.” Despite your best efforts, tears began to trail down your face. Natasha pursed her lips at the sight but continued, knowing that if she stopped now she wouldn’t have another chance to say what she needed to. “You are-” Nat’s fingers froze when you mumbled out something unintelligible, the hand over your mouth preventing you from enunciating. “What was that?” You sighed before speaking again.

“It’s not the arm. It’s not just the arm,” you corrected.

“Then what is it?” She resumed braiding your hair, her voice matching the tenderness in her hands.

“It’s- it’s the- god, this is embarrassing.”

“You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about, love. I’ll never judge you for anything you’re feeling,” the redhead promised, pausing once again to brush her lips above your brow bone.

“It’s the fear, Nat. I can’t go one second without thinking about the explosion. About… losing it. I’m scared 24/7, Nat, and even if I could forget about it for even a moment, I have a constant reminder.” Natasha didn’t have to see your face to know that your eyes had flickered to the remainder of your arm that hung by your side. “And, god,” you laughed bitterly, “god, does it make me feel weak. What kind of Avenger constantly lives in fear and panic? How am I ever supposed to help anyone like this?”

“Y/N.” She stopped braiding your hair for the third time, pulling on it slightly so that you were forced to meet her eyes above you. “You are the strongest person I know. I know you’re scared, but guess what? You went through something super traumatic. It’s okay to be scared. Honestly, I might be more concerned if you came out of that and you weren’t scared at all. All of us get scared, and that’s perfectly valid because being scared does not make you weak. Being scared means you value your life, and that’s a good thing.” She paused her speech to relax her grip on your hair, but your head remained tilted, captivated by the passion and emotion that filled your girlfriend’s face and voice.

“And the Avenger that lives in fear and panic is the same one that was ready to give up her life to save people. You helped people in the past not because you had two arms or because you weren’t scared of stuff. You helped them for the sole reason that you made a commitment to helping others, to making the world a better place, and that is the sole reason why you will still be able to help others.” Natasha’s whole body was trembling. The hands that held your hair were white at the fingertips as she clenched them. 

“I admire you more than anyone else in the world. You’re a hero, Y/N. Not ‘were,’ but ‘are.’ You’re the hero of every single person whose life you saved, and you’re my hero.”

“I didn’t-” Despite your interruption, the spy didn’t stop talking.

“You saved my life, Y/N, the second you walked into it. You give me a reason to live, to wake up every morning. And you’re my hero even more so now than before because you get up every day with a smile on your face, no matter what’s thrown at you.”

“Not much of a smile now,” you sniffed. Despite the tears that blurred your vision, you couldn’t stop the corner of your lips from curling up slightly. Nat laughed at the juxtaposition, finishing up the intricate braids woven in your hair before turning you around to face her.

“But look how quickly that changed,” she teased, pecking your lips after she wiped the tears from your face.

“Thank you,” you repeated for the second time in less than fifteen minutes.

“It was my pleasure. Plus, I was right, this hairstyle does look really good on you.” You bit your lip in embarrassment as you turned your gaze to the floor. “I’ll always do your hair for you, milaya.”

“I was actually thinking of shaving it off,” you smirked. As you examined your reflection in the mirror, you couldn’t help but agree with Natasha. You looked good, missing arm and all. A little teary-eyed and runny-nosed, but amazing nonetheless.

“Don’t you dare,” your girlfriend scoffed. “I know I said I wasn’t leaving, but I might at that,” she winked.

“Hey!” You tackled her to the ground. Reaching for her abdomen, her eyes widened as your grin grew larger.

“Y/N, don’t you dare-” You talked over her, not paying attention to her threat.

“I can still tickle you with one arm.” The spy didn’t get the chance to respond before you pounced, smiling at the sound of her laughter.

“Stop, Y/N, please!” she managed to get out.

“Are you going to leave me then? Huh?”

“No, no! I won’t! I’ll never leave you! Please, just stop!” You let up on the tickling, gently brushing away the hair that was thrown over her face seconds ago. “Great,” Nat groaned, “now I need to redo my hair.”

“Sorry,” you giggled sheepishly. Seeing the pout on her face, you bent down and met her lips with yours.

“I meant it, though.”

“That you need to fix your hair?” Natasha laughed at the way your head had adorably cocked to one side.

“No, silly, that you’re my hero. That you’re the strongest, most admirable person I know. That I’ll always be there for you, and that I’ll always do your hair for you, even when you don’t need me to do it for you any longer.”

“I love you.” You kissed her again. “And I will always love you.” Noticing a slight shift in her face, you paused, studying her expression. “Don’t you dare start singing that song.”

“Miss Y/N, Miss Maximoff is wondering if you are alright.”

“Shoot, I need to go grocery shopping with Wanda!” You scrambled to get off of the floor, smoothing out your clothes before looking for your shoes. “Uh, FRIDAY, tell her I’m so sorry and I’m coming down right now.”

“One more for the road?” Nat pouted just before you reached the door.

“Of course. Thank you again, for everything.” Your lips melted together for a second before you pulled away.

---

“Wanda, I’m here, I’m so, so sorry!” You half-ran, half-slid down the hallway to meet your best friend at the door.

“Hey,” Wanda turned to greet you. “What took you-” She paused upon making eye contact with you. “I like your hair,” she grinned.

“Thanks,” you smiled back, “Nat did it for me.”

[kirschteinsj]

Pinky Promises

Nanami x fem! reader

Warnings: nothing too much! maybe language but overall just a bunch of fluff and lovey dovey stuff 

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: Domestic Nanami and reader, just thinking about how much they love each other. sappy and cute stuff.

A/N: Hi! ^_^ Second time posting, I’ve had this one shot saved for a bit now! finally posting it lolz. I've noticed a lot of people have written domestic Nanami pics or drawn art, very glad society as a whole has this perception of him. it truly heals the soul I think. anyway, I hope u like this and sorry if there’s any grammar errors I wasnt able to catch U_U im thinking of doing a hc post next.... unsure hm, we’ll see ^_^!!

“I’m hooooome.” He says loudly as he steps through the apartment door, setting his briefcase down and taking off his beige coat. Putting down the grand kitchen knife she was using to chop up spinach, she rushed to the door with a smile and engulfed the tall blonde into a tight hug, saying hello. She took a deep breath, inhaling the soft scent of his cologne, the smell of something sour and musty soon taking over. Her face scrunched up and she let out a giggle.

“Oh god, Nanami, you stink, what did you go against today?”

“Nothing too bad. Just a grade 3,” He sighed “A smelly grade 3.” He sounded disappointed, probably because he knew he stunk too. Though the smell was horrendous, she still remained in his arms and he still held on just as tight.

“Are you tired? I was thinking of making dinner with you tonight but if you’re too tired I can-”

“No no. I’m fine. Just let me wash up and I’ll help out.”

“You sure?” She asked looking up towards him, questioning once more to reassure. He looked down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

“I’m sure, dear.”

While he showers upstairs, she gets back to readying the ingredients so they could begin cooking their masterpiece as soon as possible. Tonight she had chosen chicken alfredo with a tossed salad; One could say it was her favourite, but saying that would imply that she would eat it when cooked and served by whomever. But to her, she would only eat it when it was him who had made it for her.

Y/n adored him. He adored her. To her, he was her light. She could simply not imagine life without him, not after he had come in and changed her in such a way. She never in a million years would have thought to be so in love with someone. To have known someone who cared enough to hear all about her day or listen to all her tangents, whether they made sense or not. Who listened to her talk forever about anything just so he could see the faint glow of passion in her eyes. Someone who remembered the small details in regards to the things she loved and the things she despised; Like how she hated the feeling of peanut butter on her fingers and how she absolutely admired the scent of fresh pages in a new book. Sometimes, she felt undeserving of him.

He admired her like no other. Never did he believe he’d be capable of opening up to anyone in such a way, at least not until she walked into his life. He could write a million lists, all full of everything he loved about her. The way she smiled cheekily at him after a witty remark, how she'd give every hug as if it was the last, the way she was oh so patient with him. It took him time to become vulnerable in the slightest, he just didn’t know how to do so without burdening her. She knew his job was hard, he’d told her. But rather than running away like he expected, she stayed with him right by his side. She refused to leave him over that. If anything, it made her want to stay more since she felt the need to be there for him. It felt like a punch to the gut but a good one. “So, is this love?” He had asked himself then. Nanami had someone who brought out the much more joyful side to him. At the end of the day, he knew he’d walk through the front door only to see her, arms wide open and with a big smile offering a cozy hug. She was his home. Sometimes, he felt undeserving of her.

Putting the final piece of broccoli into the container, she tidies any clutter and went back to their shared bedroom. Sinking into the bed and falling on it with a plush thump, she lets out a deep sigh mixed with some sort of a groan. She herself was exhausted from work too to say the least. She didn’t deal with curses or anything like that, but she did teach a class of 9 year olds which one could consider just as frustrating. Yawning, she checks her phone to read the time: 6:15 PM. Nanami hadn’t been in the shower for too long, a small nap wouldn’t hurt. Quickly, she settled for a little 30 minute nap. That way, she could get up soon enough to help him out in the kitchen and not abandon him to do everything on his own. She turns her phone off and slowly, her eyes shut.

…

Y/n slowly opens her eyes and notices a grey throw blanket placed on her, something that she doesn’t recall going to bed with earlier. “Must’ve been Nanami.” Grabbing her phone, she turns the screen on, wincing at the incredible blue light piercing into her skull. “Fuck.” she mumbles. Once her eyes adjust, she glances back at the screen for the time: 7:30.

“FUCK,” she says, voice croaking “I overslept.” With the speed of light, she leaves bed and runs down the hall to the bathroom to freshen up. She soon makes her way over to the kitchen silently, slightly ashamed and guilty. Y/n mumbles a whine with a frown, “He’s probably done making things now. I could have helped.”

The kitchen is filled with the delicate scents of sauces, cheese and herbs. She watches him from the door frame, admiring her boyfriend. He stood in front of the stove mixing at the sauce for the alfredo, which scent alone made her mouth water. Nanami seems to be in his own world, as he stands humming to himself softly, stirring the pot of sauce and adding in the broccoli and spinach, not seeming to notice y/n. With a final stir, he carefully sets the lid and turns to rinse his hands. Her gaze sits upon his figure, how his grey oversized shirt slightly clings to his shoulders and loosens as it goes down his body. Looking down, she noticed the bright red christmas pyjamas he had on, the ones with adorable little reindeers all over them. Grinning, she remembers how she had bought those for him. She purchased a matching set for the two of them and insisted on wearing them all day on Christmas last year. Nanami had responded to the idea with a stern “No” which left y/n in shambles. She didn’t expect him to agree, but hey, a girl can dream. However, on Christmas day, lo and behold, she had woken up to find Nanami sitting on the couch, watching the news with his reindeer PJs on. Immediately, she had attacked him with hugs and kisses and all Nanami did was sit there and accept them, secretly loving it the whole time.

A deep voice throws her out of her thoughts. “You know, it’s rude to stare, right?”

Y/n chuckles quietly and makes her way over, wrapping her arms around him from behind, snuggling into his back.

“I like to stare at you, you’re cute,” she breathes in his scent once again, “ah, you smell so much better now. Like the nami I know.”

“I am not cute. I am a grown man.”

“C’mon, you can’t possibly be saying that right now. Not while you’re wearing these pants.” She coos, gently patting his butt. He goes silent, refusing to rebuttal knowing that he’s lost. He leans against the counter, his front facing her. Though he didn’t say anything, y/n sees this as an open invite to his arms. The rope of his arms finds her waist this time, her arms in an embrace around his neck.

“Whatever, tell me, how was your day, hm?” He posed, changing the subject.

“Same old, yenno. The kids and I had a discussion today about drugs and safety. It was cute, hearing them rat out their neighbours for smoking cigs and talk about how yucky they thought alcohol is. It was… sweet. How was work for you, hon?”

“Shit.” He retorts, closing his eyes, “Work is shit.”

“Oh come ON, I’m sure it’s not always that bad, right? Say, how’s your friend doing, you know, the one who kinda looks like one of my makeup brushes! Isn’t he good company?”

“Yeah, if good company means having to deal with a nuisance to society on a daily basis then by all means, yes, Gojo is wonderful company.” He joked, loosening his grip on her and making his way over to the stove to check on his sauce. She follows, opening the first drawer and pulling out a silver spoon, “You’re so mean sometimes. I think he’s a great guy to be around! I met him once, such a flirt.”

He teases calmly, “If you love him so much, why don’t you get with him?”

Taking her spoon, she lowers it into the pot and brings it back up to her face, blowing on it carefully before she puts it to her lips to taste. “Hmm, I would. But I don’t think he’s as big as you. I’ll have to pass.” She smirked, putting the spoon into her mouth as he watched and sighed in disappointment.

He glares,“God, you’re something else.”

“I’m just kidding, babe.” Bringing her spoon down for another taste. He swats at her hand and she retreats it with a whine. “Don’t do that. You’ve tried it already, and will again when we get to eat.” He scolded tenderly, “Plus, you shouldn’t be given these privileges anyway. It’s not like you helped out or anything.” He smiled, teasing her.

“Nanamiiii, I’m sorry,” she whines, half laughing, “I promise, I was going to help! I just got a little bit sleepy and sort of lost track of time…” He turned over to her and lifted her face with a finger under her chin. Laughing, he delicately caresses her cheek, tapping it admirably with a curled finger. The blonde chuckles and looks her in the eyes, “I’m just joking with you, love. I know you’ve been tired lately, I can tell. Why haven’t you been resting?”

Her smile falls and she sighs. Y/n wrapped her arms around his waist and brought him into her, hiding her face into his chest. It was true, she was exhausted but she didn’t deem it to be anything so serious. Work was just heavy this past week from having to grade her students’ work in time for report cards. All she wanted was the best for her kids and was finding ways to get the kids out of their comfort zones enough to do well in class. That reminded her, Nanami also mentioned having a student of his own.

She takes her face out of his chest and glances upwards. “It’s just this week of work, I promise I’ll be back to normal soon. I’ve just been busy with lesson plans and activities, yenno. Anyway, speaking of students, how’s the one you’ve been assigned to?” She posed in a soft tone. Half smiling, he turned around to add the strained pasta to the sauce, scattering it into the pot.

“He’s special. Quite lively. And cheerful. He reminds me of you sometimes,” his voice strains as he stretches to grab the bowl of cooked chicken to finally add into the pot, finishing the meal, “He’s got potential.” Y/n beamed with happiness. Nanami really seemed to like this kid and if he thought you had potential, then it sure as hell meant you had it.

She lets out a squeal, “EEEEEEK!!! That sounds amazing! I’m so happy for you!” Nanami suppressed a laugh and rolled his eyes, “It’s not that-”

“This calls for a drink, don’t you think?” She babbled with excitement, “We should have some wine! Right?”

Grabbing her wrist as she skipped her way over to the bottle, he reminded her, “You have school tomorrow. You always end up having more than needed and struggle to wake up in the morning.” Y/n frowned at his words, to which he noticed and tried to fix, “Tomorrow’s Friday, you can drink plenty tomorrow, hm? I’ll drink with you.”

“Ugh, fine. You’re right. But you have to promise.”

“I promise you ca-”

“No! You have to pinky-promise.” She demanded, pouting as he stuck out her pinky finger.

His heart skips a beat. Was she always this cute? Her angelic eyes stare into his tired ones. Bottom lip poking out, awaiting Nanami’s pinky to interlock with her own. He knew she took pinky-promises very seriously despite her grown age. It was among one of the many petty details that he cherished. Something about this pinky-promise was enough for her to ensure trust onto someone, it made him laugh. Her naivety is what made her so kind hearted, what allowed her to see the best in people. He felt that this naivety is why they’re together to begin with. He didn’t ever think she’d give him a chance. He reminisced of their first few encounters. The way she did her hair back then, the way she dressed, her shy smile and how she’d look at the floor whenever she’d blush. Maybe it was her timid nature that made him fall head over heels for her. Or maybe it was her generosity. Perhaps her beauty. He was unable to simply confine the reasoning for his infatuation with just a few traits. She grew overtime, more comfortable and less shy, she was more confident around him but he knew he could still make her blush so badly that she’d have to hide her face from him. He enjoyed their banter, her company. He felt it was luck. Or maybe it was fate. Who knows. He didn’t want to think so much about it. He wanted to live in the moment, adore her in this present time. In that instance, he felt the strong urge to kiss her. And so he did.

The kiss was short and sweet, yet full of an unfathomable amount of love. It took her aback, she didn’t quite see it coming. She too stood in the present moment, then and there, cherishing the man she loved.

His lips leave hers and he extends the smallest finger on his hand, declaring, “I pinky-promise.” And a ginormous grin washes over her face. In a whisper, she squeals and scoops her arms around his torso, resting her head onto his chest. They stay like this for a while, not too long really, but to them it felt like an eternity being in each other’s affectionate embrace. He goes to speak and she feels the vibrating boom of his voice make his way up from his chest.

“I love you.”

She sighs, “I love you too.”

Turning her head, y/n smoothly gets on her tip toes and clasps her arms around his neck, giving it a tender kiss and attempting to make a trail leading up to his sharp jaw. Catching onto her tactics he laughs, putting his big hand against her face and pushing her back.

“Seriously?” He chuckles, “You couldn’t wait till after dinner? Come on, take out the plates.”

“Wait for what? I was just kissing you! You’re so dramatic, Nami.” She lies, playing innocent. She knew damn well what she was trying to do. She wasn’t going to admit to it though. Taking out the plates and utensils, she readied the table.

…

After dinner and meaningless conversation, the two lovers tidied and headed towards their room. “Do yo wana wah a mohee tomowwow nie?” Y/n proposed from the bathroom as she brushed her teeth. He perks his head up, confused, “Do I want to what?” She spat into the sink and rinsed her mouth, repeating her question.

“I said, do you wanna watch a movie tomorrow night? Like at home? There’s this documentary I saw on Netflix, it looks really good! It’s crime related.”

“That sounds fine with me. Though, that’s only possible if you don’t end up drinking too much. I always have to get you to sleep early when you drink.” He states nonchalantly, nose poked into a thick book. She rolls her eyes and smiles, “I promise I won’t drink all that much.” Shifting his book to the opposing hand, Nanami silently takes his pinky finger and holds it out to y/n. She snickers and reciprocates.

“You’ve now pinky-promised. Don’t break it, y/n.”

“I never do.”

The nightstand lamp illuminates the room with a soft yellow glow. Shadows of objects on the nightstand hang on the walls. Laying in bed on her phone, y/n turns over to Nanami, who was still reading his book. “Nami, come lay next to me, I wanna cuddle. Please?” Her voice faint. He looks down at her and puts his book away immediately. He could use a cuddle too. Bringing himself down, he lays on his back, y/n closing the gap between the two. Their legs intertwine, her arm and head resting on his chest while one of his hands rested on her bum, the other dotingly playing with her hair. Neither of them spoke a word for a while. Until y/n broke the silence.

“So, were there no other pairs of pants you had left to wear or-”

“Please, be quiet.”

[notdonesimpin]

Sorcery ~r.s.~

ceo!ryomen sukuna x gn!reader

warnings: sukuna in a suit??, fluff

synopsis: [request by @draconic-dumbass​ ] “two unlikely people bound together by what some call fate, but to them, it must be sorcery” OR the reader doesn’t take care of themselves and sukuna has to do it for them.

a/n:  For fic purposes, Sukuna has his own two armed body. I wanted a CEO!AU where curses don’t exist, okay? Sukuna’s just a man who looks great in a suit. The curse aspect isn’t really needed in the way it’s portrayed in the show so i don’t wanna think about it😣 don’t hate me.

The door opens as you peek your head in the hallway to see Sukuna roughly loosen his tie with a huff and unbutton the top of his shirt as he takes off his shoes. 

“Long day?” you ask.

“My assistant cried today if that tells you anything. They overbooked me, and didn’t realize it until this morning.”

Your eyes narrow, “What did you say to the poor thing? She didn’t cry for nothing.”

Sukuna throws his hands up defensively as he walks over to you with a teasing smile, “I didn’t say anything! Though, I wanted to say a lot. I think she got the message when I sent her home.” The last part came out in a mutter, but you heard it well.

You hit him in the chest, “This is why you can’t keep an assistant! You’re too aggressive. I liked that one, too.”

“Well, I had an amazing assistant for years, but they quit when their husband told them to focus on art. My days ran so smoothly, and I had a beautiful sight all hours of the day,” he says, wrapping his arms around you as he continues, “Was I too aggressive with you?”

“You could barely say a sentence around me when we first met, Ryo. Don’t get cocky.”

Before he could say anything else, there was a knock on the door and you moved to answer it.

“It’s just Nao. They’re being my other model for today! I can’t model and draw myself, so I needed an amazing stand-in. How about you rest for a bit and I’ll do Nao’s solo poses and get you when I need you?” you suggested as you opened the door.

“It’s been a while. Good to see you, Y/N. Sukuna,” Nao says, giving Sukuna a wave and you a small hug.

“Nao, don’t fuck up while I’m not there,” Sukuna jokes, turning around to walk towards the bedroom.

“I’ve been doing this longer than you. I think I got it.”

“Don’t take those clothes off! The more wrinkles, the better!” you call after him.

~

You softly shake Sukuna. “Ryo, I need you to model for me now.”

He groans, opening his eyes to see you beaming at him. “It’s not fair, your face makes it hard to say no.”

“Then get up, so I can finish for today!” you urge.

He follows you to the living area with sleepiness still extremely apparent on his face. 

“No wonder you chose him to be your muse for the King of Curses. He’s like The Walking Dead right now,” Nao laughs, earning a glare from Sukuna as you drag him to the spot you want him.

“You still haven’t told me anything about your art show,” Sukuna reminds you. 

“Hands in pockets please…” you gesture to your own pockets when you make the statement and Sukuna lazily complies as you continue talking and telling him what to do. “My theme is Sorcery. Take a step but don't step… There! I wanted to do three bigger panels for my main showcase. They have the King of Curses- AKA you- and the ruler of blessings- aka Nao but Nao is just modeling so I can shade the pose right and put myself in it. Then the middle panel will be them together. Look at the ground. Now, only bring your eyes up the look at me… Perfect! Stay still. Basically it shows two unlikely people bound together by what some call fate, but to them, it must be sorcery.”

~

You yawn, waking up the sound of Sukuna roaming around the penthouse. You check your phone to see the time. 4:36 A.M.

You suddenly find yourself wide awake and decide to get up and work on your rough sketches. 

You go out of your shared room, rubbing your eyes as you adjust to the light and walk to the kitchen.

“Where the hell is my…” Sukuna’s muttering comes to a stop when he sees you sitting at the island, drinking a glass of water as you wait for the coffee pot to get ready.

“Good morning,” you softly say with a yawn.

“Why are you up? Did I wake you?” Sukuna asks, buttoning the cuffs of the shirt and walking over to you.

“I need to work on the rough sketches anyways since my canvases come in today. I’m so behind,” you groan, “What are you looking for?”

“My passport. I swear I grabbed it from home before I came here.”

He watches you tie his tie for him as he tries to recall where it might be.

“It’s definitely at home on the kitchen counter. I saw it before I left. I meant to grab it for you. Sorry, Ryo.”

He tosses his head back in frustration, “Why is this penthouse so inconveniently located. I have to go in the opposite direction of the office and the airport to go home and get it.”

“You’re the one that said my apartment was too small to be my studio.”

“I know.”

“And that I should separate home from work.”

“I know.” He squeezes your cheeks to stop you from talking. “I don’t regret buying this penthouse for your work. You get an ocean view and you have an entire space to do your work. I’d buy you the entire building if you needed it.”

He lets go of your face and you say, “Okay, Mr. CEO. All you had to say was that you love me.”

He chuckles and pours two cups of coffee, handing you one of them. “This business trip is pretty short, so I should be back around afternoon or tomorrow night at the latest.” He checks his watch, “I should go, so I don’t be late with my detour.” 

He grabs his blazer off of the back of the chair, sliding it on as he walks towards the door with you right behind him. He slips his shoes on and turns to you, giving you a soft kiss.

“Be safe. I love you.” you say.

“I love you. Don’t overwork yourself while I’m gone.”

As soon as the door closed, you muttered: Sorry, Ryo. That’s exactly what I’m about to do.

~ 

A few hours later, you get a call from Sukuna and immediately answer.

“How’s the new assistant, Ryo?” you immediately ask.

He paused, glancing at the assistant beside him. “So this was your doing. I can’t say that I’m surprised. This one seems a lot more competent.”

“Don’t run him off. He knows how to run businesses well since he grew up with his father.”

“I got it. Mx. CEO,” he taunts, “How long have you been working?”

You glance at the time on your phone. 10:32A.M.

“Technically five hours but only been diligent for the past four hours. I finished my sketch for the King of Curses panel about an hour ago. So, I’ve just started drawing it on the canvas.”

“So, what I’m hearing is that it’s time to take a break and eat something,” He suggests, but you both know that it was a command. 

“I’m not going to pass out on you again, okay? I can take care of myself.”

“As you’ve proven on multiple occasions, you can’t. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”

“I love you. Make good decisions!” You hang up and get back to work.

You didn’t know how much time had passed or how long you’d been actively moving around and working until your regular Wednesday at 11:30 alarm went off. 

Wait… Wednesday??? You’d only been up for a couple hours. How has an entire day passed without you even realizing it?

At the same time, you received a text from Sukuna: I have to stop by the office before heading to you, so I’ll take you wherever you’d like around one. 

“Shit!” you exclaim, typing back a quick response before rushing around the penthouse to clean and change your clothes.

Sukuna couldn’t know that you haven’t slept in the past 31 hours. 

By the time you cleaned up and got dressed, Sukuna was already at the penthouse, leaning against the kitchen counter and holding a glass of bourbon in his hands.

“Let me see your hands,” he requests.

You stick out your hands, trying to calm them down because both of you knew that you get really bad tremors when you haven’t slept in a while.

“I didn’t think you’d be back so early,” you softly spoke.

“Darling, I texted you. I guess it makes sense that you don’t remember since you responded with a jumble of letters,” he sighs, sticking his hands in his pockets as he shakes his head, “What am I going to do with you?”

“I just got really focused. I’m so close to finishing the King of Curses panel. I started the Ruler of Blessings panel as well… I gotta keep the ball rolling while it’s hot,” you explained.

“That isn’t healthy. How have you been painting? With the way your hands are shaking, you shouldn’t even be able to hold a paintbrush straight.”

“I was focused! And before you say it, I’m not tired, so I’ll just get back to work.”

He looks at you in amusement as you walk away. “Still as stubborn as ever.”

“I’ll stop after I finish the curse panel, okay?”

Before you could even get out of the kitchen, Sukuna had picked you up by your waist and started walking away.

“Ryomen Sukuna! Put me down!” you exclaim, “I told you, my feet stay on the ground!”

He laughs and continues walking, “I told you that if I want to pick you up, I will. If you think you’re heavy, then you’re wrong. You’re like a feather compared to what I lift at the gym, okay?”

You fall silent, letting him carry you all the way to the bathroom. He sits you on the counter and starts running the water for a bath. As you wait for the bath to fill up, he stands in between your legs, bringing his hands up to your face and lightly grazing underneath your eyes.

“They’re puffy…” he looks at you with a hint of sadness, “I understand that the art show is very important to you, but this is the third time in the past few months that I’ve had to physically stop you from overworking yourself. If you don’t take care of yourself, your art will suffer, too.”

“I know. There’s just a lot of big names coming this time. I really want it to be good.”

“It will be because you’re an outstanding artist,” he reassures.

You give him a small thank you as he turns to stop the water and you shed your clothes, getting in and closing your eyes and enjoying the warmth.

“You see how nice hot water feels?” You could hear the teasing in his voice.

“Yeah, yeah. Self-care or whatever.” 

Sukuna begins to wash your body for you, humming a soft tune and lulling you to sleep.  He finishes washing you up and takes you to bed, putting one of his shirts on you and crawling in beside you, letting you wrap yourself around him to steal his warmth.

He softly smiles to himself and gives you a soft kiss on the top of your head as he whispers, “Sweet dreams.”

[slytherinsnekxvii]

i've been thinking about sirius black and grimmauld place and how much he hates it. so, here have this little fic i wrote about my take on that, just to get myself back into the swing of things now that real life has let up a little bit. warning for awful parenting that might hit a little too close to home before it goes off the rails, walburga and orion saying some really horrible things, and a stinging hex:

By the time Sirius gets his Hogwarts letter, Regulus has mastered the art of performing. He's much better than Sirius was—is—and Sirius wonders how much of that comes from Regulus seeing him make the simplest of mistakes and face the consequences. He wonders when he realised that he's being made an example.

He draws a knee up to his chest, idly twirling a quill between his fingers as his stomach grumbles. He ignores it. He's been sent to bed without supper enough times now that it hardly matters. He scratches two more lines of I will be obedient into the parchment and he thinks about Regulus some more.

He doesn't like the kid, sometimes. Envies him, even. There are things he does that Sirius finds maddening. Regulus has never spoken an original thought his life, follows every instruction given to him, willingly backs himself into corners and he refuses to put up a fight, unless he's the one who started it and knows he can finish it. What makes it worse is that these are lessons that Sirius taught him and couldn't learn himself.

Keep your innermost thoughts close to your chest and if you must speak them, do it aside, address no one but yourself.

Follow orders. Let yourself be manhandled and coerced into position by those who can see the bigger picture.

Never turn your back to your audience.

Turn the other cheek and follow through.

It's bothersome. They have a perfect little heir right there, but they ignore him just to try and force Sirius to be what they want him to be. It's a waste of everyone's time, since they all know that round pegs do not fit into triangular holes. It's suffocating, since they try to do it anyway, shaving away at the bits and pieces that won't fit, hacking at the parts of him that don't mold to fit the shape that they've carved for everyone carrying the Black name. It's unfair, that he's stuck here like this, going to bed without supper, writing lines, of all things, and riding out the effects of a nasty session of "Occlumency training", which he is certain is just an excuse to rifle through his mind and give him a headache.

I will be obedient. I will be obedient. I will be obedient.

His hand moves on its own, the letters appearing on the page ever-so-slightly wobbly as he writes without bothering to look at the words. It's infuriating, the way they echo in his head over and over, and over, again.

He lifts his head when Kreacher appears before him with a crack, his horrid little house-elf face twisted into that familiar, ever-present cross between a grimace and a scowl. "What?" he asks, and somehow, the elf's expression sours even more.

"Mistress wants her lines," Kreacher says. "Mistress says Kreacher is to collect them from Master Sirius."

"I'm not done yet," Sirius snaps, and bites his tongue when the house-elf turns up his mouth in disapproval. He takes his time carving the last few sentences into the parchment, and while his penmanship is probably the greatest it's ever been, he still scowls at the paper even after it's been handed over.

Kreacher scowls back at him and disappears. Sirius rubs his ears and wonders if the elf Apparates that loudly on purpose.

I will be obedient. I will be obedient. I will be obedient. The stupid words spin around in his head, and he scowls harder as he considers that he could probably fill an entire sheaf of parchment in his sleep.

See if I ever turn out like the bloody show dog you want, he thinks, vehemently, and shoves aside the bits of stationery on his desk so he can collapse face-first and not think. There's another crack, and he startles, forcing himself upright as Kreacher stands before him, with his little, twisted house-elf face and little, twig-like house-elf arms crossed.

"What?" he bites, again, and when the elf's expression takes a turn for the worse, he leans back in his chair and doesn't bother shaking off the vindictive satisfaction that crawls up his spine.

"Mistress wants to see Master Sirius in Master Orion's study. Master Sirius is a bad boy," Kreacher tells him, and he fights the urge to slam his fist on the desk, or worse, into Kreacher.

"Why?" Sirius asks, and he knows exactly why, they only ever want him for one reason, they never call on him for anything else, at all, ever, but he still asks. He's not actually expecting anything different, but he does it, just to be difficult.

"Master Sirius has been a bad boy," Kreacher says.

"Right, yeah. Thought as much, really," Sirius tells him, and makes no move to get up from his seat.

"Mistress wants to see Master Sirius in Master Orion's study," Kreacher repeats, and Sirius scoffs at him.

"And what are you going to do about it?" he taunts, and the elf Disapparates. Sirius sneers a bit at the wall, sticks out his tongue as he mocks, "Master Sirius has been a bad boy." He scoffs, idly kicks at the leg of his desk. "Master Sirius has been Sirius. Master Sirius isn't Regulus."

He collapses onto the desk again, lets out a quiet, frustrated scream as his leg picks up the speed and kicks even harder. He takes a deep breath as the woods shudders beneath him and eventually gets his limbs back under control. "Master Sirius doesn't want to be told what to do," he mumbles into the wood. "Master Sirius is a person. Master Sirius doesn't want to be controlled," he continues, quiet, and is glad that his moping is drowned out by the sound of Kreacher Apparating into his bedroom once again.

"Mistress says Master Sirius is being difficult. Maater Sirius must come to the study at once," the elf says, and Sirius doesn't even bother to lift his head. "Master Sirius must come! Mistress insists!"

"Or what?" Sirius asks, tone as bitter and spiteful as his little eleven-year-old tongue can manage.

"Mistress says that Master Sirius must come to the study at once! Master Sirius is being a very bad boy! Horrible boy! Spiteful child!"

Sirius feels his eye twitch as he listens to the elf slowly dissolve into histrionics, wonders if he's listening to Kreacher, or his mother. "Master Sirius is just fine!" he says. "Master Sirius doesn't have to listen to you or be obedient or anything!"

"Master Sirius must go to the study!"

"No!" Sirius exclaims, and he does bang his fist on the desk, noticing far too late that Kreacher has gone silent. The realisation strikes him when his hand leaves the desk and a hand circles his wrist, grip ice-cold. "No..." he says, quiet, and horror takes him as he involuntarily tries to tear away from the hold. If anything, it tightens.

"You would disobey your parents, Sirius Orion?"

"I—" Sirius gasps, and forces himself to be as still as possible, as steady as he can manage even though he still finds himself shaking by the time he finds it in himself to continue. "No, Father, I—"

He won't hit you, Sirius thinks. He would never stoop so low, and he isn't holding his wand. He wouldn't hit you. He wouldn't. He would never. Not with his bare hands. Not without his wand.

His trembling ceases a little, and he starts to speak again. "No, Father, I—"

"Quiet. Your mother is calling for you, you wretched child. Why have you not attended to her?"

"I'm sorry—"

"Apologies mean nothing without action, young man. Do better," Orion stresses, and Sirius bends, head bowing as he prepares to reiterate his apology.

"I—"

"That was not an invitation to speak, Sirius Orion."

"Yes, Father. S—" he bites his tongue and tries not to listen to his heart slowly beating its way out of his chest.

"This is no behaviour to be exhibited by my heir. You will get up, and you will come with me to attend to your mother."

"Yes, Father," Sirius says, and swallows the fire building behind his tongue and under his fear.

The grip around his wrist loosens, and he moves it a little, just to make sure it's still there, still attached, still working and prepares to get up even as he hates himself for listening and his father for making him.

"Quickly, Sirius Orion. Your mother is waiting."

"Yes, Father," he says, and in his mind, he kicks himself for the meekness in his tone.

When he stands up on marginally less shaky legs, Orion moves to clap a hand on his shoulder to steady him and the sheer anticipation of the touch forces Sirius to stand at attention. He straightens his spine until it can go no further without snapping, and when Orion's hand actually lands on his shoulder, he has to concentrate to avoid flinching under the touch.

Orion taps his shoulder once, twice, and then grips it with the same force he'd used on Sirius' wrist. "Go on, then."

Sirius starts to move. Orion does not let up, steel grip still locked in place as it directs Sirius throughout the house. They pass Regulus' door, and Sirius fights the urge to sneer at it, with its stupid, pretentious sign protecting his stupid, pretentious baby brother who's probably asleep with a full belly and not a care in the world with Kreacher at his bedside to bend to his every whim. Stupid, lucky performer sticking to his script... poor little contest crup doing tricks for the judges.

Orion's grip on his shoulder tightens and Sirius hisses as he bends under the pressure. "I said, quickly, Sirius Orion. You would make your mother wait even longer for you than you already have?"

"No, I—" Sirius continues, tripping over his own feet as the his own movement ceases while his father continues to push.

"She's been patient all this time and you would leave her to sit alone and unattended to?"

"Father—"

"Ungrateful child," Orion rebukes and Sirius chokes.

"Yes, Father."

They enter the study quietly, Sirius standing at attention once more while Orion rounds the large desk to take his seat. Walburga crosses and uncrosses her legs in her nearby armchair, and clears her throat. She sits up, handa placed carefully atop each other in her lap and it's an image he's familiar with. She elegantly rolls her wand between her fingers and Sirius reminds himself to tread carefully, don't make a mistake, she's armed, even if this the most demure he's ever seen her.

"Siri."

"Yes, Mother," he answers.

"Why did you not come when I called?"

I didn't want to, I hate you, I hate you both, he thinks. I was scared, he thinks. "I don't know, Mother," he says.

"That isn't an answer, Sirius Orion. If you didn't know, you could have done as I asked of you and inquired it of me when you arrived."

You didn't bother to ask. You ordered, he thinks. "Yes, Mother," he says.

"Why did you not come when I called?"

I'm here, anyways, aren't I? "Kreacher was annoying me," he lies, or well, sort of. Kreacher had been annoying him, but that wasn't why he'd disobeyed. He bites his tongue when he watches their expressions shift.

"Kreacher... was annoying you," Walburga asks, tone flat.

"Yes, Mother," Sirius says.

"So, rather than banish him and do as you were told, you chose... to disobey me?" The uptick in her voice is dangerous, but her position remains the same and Sirius falls into the trap.

"I—sorry, Moth—agh!" The Stinging Hex hits his hand and he shakes it the appendage rapidly as he waits for the pain to abate. "Yes, Mother," he croaks, when his hand graduates from acute pain to slight numbness.

"Do better next time," Walburga tells him, rolling her thirteen inches of elm between her fingers. "Apologies are worthless, I know your father would have told you that much."

"Yes, Mother. I won't keep you waiting again, Mother," Sirius forces. You'll drag me kicking and screaming next time, he thinks.

"Words, again. Powerful, yes. Useful, yes... but that's only in the hands of those whose actions are able to prove it. You've not done so, Siri," Walburga continues, quiet, and this is how Sirius knows he's gone and done it.

His hands move to clench on their own, and his aching left convinces him to clasp them behind his back instead. His legs itch to move, to run away, to go anywhere but here. He wishes he had his broom.

"You disobey. You refuse to listen. You ignore our teachings. You blunder and stumble and do all manner of upsetting things, Siri. We feed you and clothe you and we provide a bed for you to rest your head when the night comes, and yet... you continue to act so horribly. You speak out of turn, you do everything in the exact wrong manner. If I didn't know better, I would think you were doing such awful things on purpose. To spite your father and I." Her eyes meet his and Sirius can't help it, he looks away. His father's lip curls and still, he refuses to look at her.

"You are a horrible child, Siri. Wicked and ungrateful and awful. You aren't worthless, though. You're the product of your father and I, after all. And you aren't incompetent or stupid. You can be taught, Siri. All you must do is listen, and obey. You can be trained and we will make you the wizard you were meant to be as our heir. You need not do anything but obey."

Sirius takes a breath, the cool air sticking in the back of his throat as he feels the hackles on the back of his neck raise. "I—You don't—"

"Don't... what, Sirius Orion?" his father asks.

Nothing, he thinks. "It's—I'm a person! You want an heir that you can teach and train and make, have Regulus! I don't—" he starts, and his eyes widen as he listens to the words spilling out of his mouth with no permission of his and no control over them at all.

"You are a wretched, horrible creature! Awful boy! Spiteful child! How dare you?" Walburga screeches, and Sirius winces, his own mouth clamping shut. "We are your family, your parents. You would disgrace your own blood in such a way? Horrible, awful child! Incompetent! Lazy! Stupid! Never learns! You are an awful creature! Terrible boy! Unworthy! I can hardly believe you came of my loins! We have been nothing but good to you! Awful child, waste of blood, Sirius Orion, how dare you?"

She's sprung out of her chair, elm wand held high in her hand as a weapon, and Sirius ducks even as he shouts.

"I didn't mean it! I didn't, I didn't, I was only angry," he pleads. "I won't do it again," he tells them, quietly, and as his mouth quivers, he tastes salt.

"See to it that you don't," Orion says, frigid even as he rests a hand on his wife's waist to steady her and glares at his firstborn. "I'll not have such an outburst taking place again."

Tell that to your wife, Sirius thinks bitterly, sniffing as quietly and unnoticeably as possible to stave off the rest of the tears he hadn't realised he was crying.

"Yes, Father," Sirius says.

"Get out," Orion tells him.

"Yes, Father," Sirius says, and with that, he turns around and leaves. Quietly, with some sort of dignity so they don't have another thing to hold over his head.

He passes Regulus' stupid door again, kicks it and watches as not even the sign shakes.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you," he cries, quietly, as he continues down the hallway, with his voice warbling and his fist pounding against the wall as he goes. Regulus' face flashes through his mind, and then his mother's, his father's, his own. Coward, he spits, inaudible, and the word is coated in every bit of venom he's capable of. "I hate you," he says to the empty air, and not even he can tell who he's trying to address.

[parcy-anda]

I adore the idea of Ruv & Sarv together both platonically and romantically,  and that goes double for Whitty & Carol, but I’m also a piece-of-trash multi-shipper with a strong lean towards fluff.

Heads up: no ideas are my own — the inspiration came from  this. >v<; I just wanted to shake off some dust and enjoy what I thought was a sweet concept.

My silly rambles are below the cut if you’re interested, but I’m super awkward and will go hide now.

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I was a bit conflicted about posting art of these two, as from what I’ve read, drama following the mods ruined these guys+ for their respective creators but I keep up on some tags out of curiosity, and seeing the post linked above made me want to try something that condensed most of their ideas. I'm a sucker for anything soft and wholesome.

While I did visual research for the characters, dinghies and an intentional + aesthetically-appropriate design for Ruv based on a few species of cold-water [comb] jellies, I had no idea/was-too-stubborn-to-further-research how to draw [jellyfish] sirens or how to handle the lighting effects for a pic like this — and it shows.

Finally: GEEBUS, I don’t know if this is even worth sharing, but as prep, I did sketch a rough concept of siren!Ruv based on visual research. I have no idea if I’ll try to polish this concept, as while Jellies are often inherently frilly, it seems painfully out-of-place for him. @v@

Update: I wrote a silly ficlet to follow up this pic. I’ll hide it here, rather than put it on display in a fresh post. =v=; Apologies for address-repetition, rambling, and the obliviousness trope but if anyone actually likes it, sweetness.

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Whitty kept his eyes on the stars, of which there was no shortage out here. Beyond the light, passing swells, he'd heard the gentle splashing against the boat, and felt something slippery and mitten-like wrap around his shoe. His foot twitched, but he didn't pull away. He knew who it was; after, all, they'd agreed to meet here... in this general area. The open ocean provided few landmarks, but they'd settled on a few miles northeast of the dock Whitty always started from.

It was still really, really strange. He was getting better about trusting the siren, but jellyfish are jellyfish, and he was in no hurry to be stung, accidentally or otherwise. Without moving, he chanced a glimpse to the other end of the boat — Ruv was looking down at something. The sentient bomb heard a gravelly shift — oh... more "treasures".

Lately, the gelatinous merman had been in the odd habit of bringing stones and coral fragments with him, and this time, he'd brought a bucketful. Whitty stifled a hissing chuckle at what he could now tell was bright green plastic. Ruv must have taken some child's beach toy from somewhere. The only thing he didn't really get was why.

Ruv wasn't much of a talker, and was stone-faced as they came. All the bomb-man could tell was that the siren seemed to bring these things for him... and the slight glow of his bioluminescence flared every time Whitty looked at him or said so much as a word. And today, he was ALIGHT. Whitty tensed as he felt Ruv squeeze his shoe tighter... was this in his head, or did the siren look nervous?

Carefully, Ruv lifted the bucket out of the water completely, over the edge and placed it squarely on the floor of the dinghy by Whitty's outstretched leg... and stared. At Whitty. In the glowing, ember-y eyes. Inky drops of "sweat" seeped through the sphere of his head and dripped back down to the fuse... an anxious laugh tumbled between his teeth set in a forced smile.

"Thanks, man." He finally managed to say, glancing briefly at the bucket before looking back at Ruv, who hadn't moved, save for the lightest lapping  against the underside of the boat, to keep his balance and place. Whitty usually didn't mind the stargazing, but then, it had never been this quiet or... intensely awkward. You're making it weird, man. Whitty thought to himself worriedly, but gave it a few seconds.

Things did not get better. Silent as before, Ruv's behaviour drastically shifted once more. The glow faded, he sank out of Whitty's view, and the grip on his shoe loosened before disappearing completely. Just slightly alarmed, Whitty planted most of his weight in the middle of the small boat, before stretching his neck to look out over the edge — the siren was still there, face half-submerged and, by the angle of the lone, now-barely luminous eye, not quite facing the boat. With just a crescent moon to light the seascape, Whitty was relieved to see anything... if the glow had wholly vanished, he would have been impossible to distinguish from the water.

"... what did I do, now?" Whitty sighed, trying not to sound too annoyed. He was certainly intrigued by the merman, he wouldn't keep coming back to visit otherwise. They could probably be really good friends if Ruv would actually communicate. But he didn't. He always kept Whitty wondering, and the bomb hated that. He hated not knowing what to expect.

When Ruv stayed silent and with his back to the dinghy, Whitty huffed quietly and turned his attention to the bucket. It was quite the assortment, this time. Some where rough, some smooth, some glossy, some blue, some... very, very round. He picked up that oddball, and his eyes widened as he realized what it was. It was a pearl, a black one, and a pretty good size.

"Okay, w-why? Why do you keep bringing me stuff like this?" He sputtered, holding up the pearl and bucket. He'd tried asking questions before, but seldom got normal or satisfactory answers. He hoped this time would be different.

He got a reaction, at least: he caught the eye angling slightly back toward him, and a flicker of light returning. He could have sworn he saw the mouth twitch, though mostly into a frown. When Ruv's hands weighed delicately on the top of the stern, Whitty sat back in an effort to keep the boat level. Taking in what body language he could, Whitty saw now, just how tired Ruv appeared to be, as if it was all he could do to keep his one eye open. With a sense of urgency, Whitty dragged himself back to reality, gesturing emphatically as he asked again: "Why? What's this for? Use your words, man."

Immediately, Ruv's eye narrowed and his slight frown deepened, prompting a small flinch from the bomb. Whitty was fully expecting to be stung, and braced himself for it, eyes closed. He nearly jumped out of his skin when instead, he heard a THUD against the dinghy's edge. Then again, and again. Opening his eyes, he saw Ruv repeatedly, quite deliberately, throwing his forehead into the side of the boat. Apparently, he was frustrated, too.

Whitty was about to tell the siren to cut it out when it suddenly stopped. Ruv's head was now set still against the stern, shoulders rising, then falling in a quiet sigh, before he rested his chin on the rim between his hands. The face Whitty took for 'tired' before now simply looked defeated. The bomb-headed young man refrained from saying anything, realizing words were only flustering the merman, but he knew Ruv could talk. They'd talked before... mostly Ruv just said he wasn't going to sting Whitty, but still, Ruv had spoken. There was no point in acting like he couldn't.

So lost was he in his thoughts, he'd hardly noticed himself nearing the boat's edge. For a moment, he thought he'd leaned in on his own, as if to listen closely for an answer, but... no. The movement had been completely subconscious. Oh, f- this isn't some legit-siren shit Ruv's pulling, right? Probably not, hopefully not. I mean, I'm definitely in control of my thoughts. He was snapped out of those thoughts by another sigh from Ruv, even though he had yet to say a word.

Silently, Ruv took the pearl and held it up between his and Whitty's faces — he should get that, right? Looking around it, Whitty's face proved puzzled still. Agitated, Ruv snatched a piece of volcanic glass he'd found from the bucket, placing it over Whitty's hand and wrapping his own over both, before expectantly looking back up to his land-dwelling friend's face. That nervous smile was back, and Whitty had to laugh off the awkwardness while he searched for the words.

"Aha...ha... this stuff looks... kind of like me?" He asked more than said, glancing a few times between the contents of the bucket and Ruv — there were a number of articles reminiscent of his clothing and skin's colors, not to mention textures. Whitty's heart spasmed violently at the way Ruv's face quite literally lit up. Reluctantly, he spun his free hand in a wheeling motion, continuing, "... which means...?" The glow flickered, but remained and Whitty thought he saw Ruv's eye twitch. The bomb grimaced before trying to intuit the meaning behind this, "Yes, please! Spell it out!" It was weird as hell, but he needed to know what it meant, and it was high time Ruv just gave him a straight answer.

Mista-BIG MISTAKE. — was the only coherent thought Whitty managed, as for a moment, all his senses could register was a splash and icy water enveloping him face-first. He'd been hauled from the boat and into the dark, frigid ocean. On instinct, he struggled, panicked against the feeling of cold seeping into him, and he gasped the second he felt air on his face. He took a second to process what was happening now:

He was breathing, his head was back above water... he was... not being strangled, even though it felt terrifyingly similar. Ruv was thoroughly wrapped around him, his face pressed into the bomb's neck and... nuzzling? It made Whitty squirm at first, it really was a bit of a disturbing sensation, but then suddenly, he stiffened and warmed all over as a blush spilled across his face and the realization dawned on him. If the siren hadn't been keeping him afloat, he'd have sunk for lack of movement. He was frozen in an entirely different sense now.

[cookiesallaround]

Someone Who Cares ~ Graffiti Art

Chapter 5 of SWC

Heroes and villains are not supposed to get along. Yet roommates are. Sam is an anxious hero who’s simply trying to get good enough grades to pass college. Luke is a villain who’s guarding himself while trying to get better at one of the few things that makes him happy, art. While their secret identities don’t last long, will their friendship?

previous // next // masterlist

tw: fear? threatening, fire mention, blood tears because he’s fire boi, insomnia, hunger, power imbalance

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Luke could barely hold in his laughter as he looked up at the mural of one of the battles between him and Sam. It was almost scary how accurate it was.

Of course, Luke being the artist, Sam was beyond suspicious of him.

“Why the... heck would you do something like this?” He waved his hand.

He broke and fell on his knees laughing like a hyena. "I-I didn't!!" Small beads of blood rolled down his cheeks as he laughed.

“Then why are you laughing?!” Sam bit his lip while trying to act upset but was quickly failing in his endeavor.

He had to stop laughing to breathe. "Because whoever did, is a freaking genius! They got your face perfect!"

Sam cracked a smile, despite himself. “They diiid. Your flames are beautiful, not realistic though.”

"Well, I've never used rainbow fire before though I might try." He smiled while admiring the art. "This is some pretty advanced stuff."

“It’s also illegal.” He mumbled under his breath. 

Luke rolled his eyes at the hero. "It's a mural. What's so ‘illegal’ about it?” He frowned briefly at the looked Sam was giving him. "What? It looks nice." He took out his phone and took a picture of the it.

Sam rolled his eyes. “For starters, it’s called vandalism.”

"So? This building was boring before this painting." Luke grumbled a bit as he saved the photo. "You need to loosen up. Maybe it was commissioned." Luke looked a little closer at the mural. "After all, it is the hero of the city defeating the villain.

Sam smiled lightly while rubbing his arm. “I’m sorry, I’m just tired I guess.”

"Then you need to sleep." He chuckled a bit as he stood. "Geez, you need some hero friends."

He opened his mouth before ignoring the last bit. “I can’t sleep... I’m too busy.” 

Luke stared at Sam for a long time. "Doing what? I'm not doing much villainy recently due to tests and projects. Don't make me tranquilize you."

He took a breathe, trying not to back away. “There are other people besides you, you’re the eighth villain. The other Bay Villains are- trying hard to get what they want. I have a life outside of being a hero so I need to study too. I just don’t have time in the day, so I’ve been staying up late.” Sam looked away.

Luke sighed while rubbing his face. "I've told you that I would help you with the other villains. Hell, I even said that I would dress as a hero.”

“I don’t care, it’s not your job. I’m a hero and you're a villain. You shouldn’t need to go around helping me,” He mumbled in frustration.

"But you're burnt out! You'll get yourself killed one of these days! Let me help you!" Luke growled a bit.

He stared at the ground for a few moments before walking away. “Let’s just go eat? I’m starving.”

Luke sighed before while rubbing his head. Why must you be so stubborn?

They went to a restaurant close by. It had taken Luke to drag Sam out of the dorms for him to ‘agree’ to go. Of course it was all in fun, and Sam was getting a free meal out of the situation so he was for it.

Luke glared at the glass of water in front of him, as if it had personally wronged him. "Here you can have my water." He pushed it towards Sam with the tips of his fingers.

Sam laughed while grinning. “So fire dude. What can you drink?” He happily drank his water, it being his favorite drink.

Luke shrugged while waiting for his food. "Anything flammable really. I can drink water but it will just make me sick. I wasn't lying or being poetic when I said I was fired."

“That sucks.” Sam frowned lightly. 

He just shrugged. "Eh. Not that big of a deal. I'm sure if you ate something that I can you'd get sick too."

“I really don’t drink much besides water. I mean, of course I can drink other things, just don’t want too. Water just keeps me hydrated and without it, I get sick.”

He nodded a bit. "Well, I can drink lighter fluid but if you do that, you would get violently ill."

“Ugh.” Sam shook his head, making a face.

Luke ignored him while tapping his finger against the hardwood tabletop. "So. Are we going to talk about you taking on too much?"

Sam sighed softly. “Ya. Sure.” He began to eat, the hunger in his eyes had become more evident, even as he was eating.

"If you aren't going to let me help. What are you going to do?" He ate his food as well, the smell of burning slowly growing around him.

“What do you want...?” Sam asked him instead, trying to get a read.

Luke leaned back in his chair. "I want you to answer the question, Samuel." His food was momentarily forgotten on his plate.

His eyes sparked faintly at the name and tone. “I don’t know. I’m still alive, so I guess I’m doing okay, well, okay enough.” He muttered.

Luke's eyes twitched. "Have you seen yourself recently?!" He banged his fist into the table and growled, not noticing Sam’s small flinch. "You have dark circles under your eyes and you've fallen multiple times in our house! No to mention how sloppy you have gotten while fighting. You come home constantly covered in bruises and cuts."

“Maybe you haven’t noticed but it’s my JOB to protect people. I’m supposed to be fighting villains.” Sam glared at Luke, eyes going hard.

"I have noticed." Luke's voice lowered. "But, you don't do it alone. No one said you had to do it alone." Luke gave him a pleading look. "If you don't want me to help. Fine. However, look for someone that can help you out so you can rest."

He took a breath while looking down as the threat went away as fast as it had come. “Do you want to help?” Sam asked, looking away.

"Yes, I want to help. Why do you think I keep offering."

“I’m just not used to people offering to help me. It seems... weird.” Sam said quietly looking back up. 

Luke chuckled a bit. "Well, I'm used to offering to help people so we are even."

“Doesn’t that concept feel strange though?” His hand carded through his hair to distract himself for a moment. “A villain helping a hero, while still fighting them?” 

"Do you want me to retire from being a villain?" He tilted his head a bit.

“No, no no no... that- wouldn’t feel right...”

He frowned while leaning his head on his arm. "Then you would want me to help you, but, stay a villain?"

Sam sighed heavily while holding his head. “I don’t want to mess with your life.”

Luke snorted as he turned his head away. "So what?"

“What do you mean so what?”

"I meant what I said. So. What." Luke kept his eyes locked on an object just out of view.

Sam studied him for a moment. “You’re... mad at me again.”

He shook his head. "I'm not."

“You don’t care about me messing with your life. That’s not usually how it works, Luke.”

Luke rolled his eyes before looking at Sam. His eyes kept changing colors. "If I became a hero there would be fewer deaths. And less trouble for you. It would be a logical decision."

“Are you okay?” He dodged the comment, being genuinely worried.

Luke chuckled a bit. "Yep, I'm fine. Just a thing that happens sometimes." He waved away Sam's concern.

“I am tired,” Sam admitted, resting his head in his arms as he crossed them on the table. “Right now I mean...”

"Come on, let's get you home." Luke placed some cash on the table before holding out his hand for Sam.

Sam stood up quickly, unprepared for the wave of dizziness making him tip over. “Woah-”

Luke quickly grabbed onto Sam's shoulders. Swearing in a strange tongue.

Sam nodded in thanks, pressing his forehead against his chest for a moment to breathe. “Your acting is really weird today, is something up with your powers?”

"More or less." He muttered under his breath.

Sam stopped while looking up at him. “What’s wrong?”

He waved his hand. "Worry about it later. Come on."

Sam raised a brow. “And when is it later?”

"When you sleep." He grunted a bit. "Come, on."

Sam was too tired to argue more, so reluctantly they went back to their dorm, being quiet the whole way. Once they were inside Luke sighed heavily while collapsing onto the couch.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked him again. He sat on the arm of the couch looking down at Luke.

"It's nothing."

“It’s something alright. Don’t lie to me Luke, please.” He sighed.

He shook his head before looking at his hand.  "Technically it's not me that has a problem." Luke buried his head into a pillow. "Like I said. It just happens."

“Well... I want to help!” Sam said exasperated, having a look similar to the one Luke had given him only an hour before.

"Just calm down. You need to worry about yourself right now." He moved h0is head to one of his eyes and looked at Sam.

“Sometimes I hate you,” Sam huffed. He walked over to his room and slammed the door shut, being overall playful. 

Luke chuckled. "No, you don't~" 

Yes he does. The voice in Luke’s head purred. 

“Shut it you.”

---

please don’t drink lighter fluid <3

Taglist: If you’d like to be added let me know! @myst-in-the-mirror @thelaughingstag

[thinkyoureholy]

Oceandust [5]

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Pairing : Kim Hongjoong / [fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Language, Fluff, Smut, Pirate! AU

Words : 3.7k

Previous Chapter.  - Next Chapter.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

-Hongjoong’s P.O.V-

I leaned against the railing of the ship, staring out into the distance, hoping to be the first one to stop land but I knew the one up top would spot it first, “Anything Mingi?”

I looked up to where he was perched on the main mast, hopeful, but he only gave me a shake of his head. I huffed out a breath, impatient. It's been a little over four years since we’ve left Celic. I had planned to spend as little time as possible away from here but a little run in with the authorities in Borum cost my crew and I a few years. They would’ve had us locked up for longer and killed us had we not escaped. I thought it’d be best to keep a low profile for a while after escaping and the only place I could think of was Celic. And I was itching to see a certain someone. 

“What’s the rush, captain?” Seonghwa asked, pretending to not know why I was so antsy.

It was times like this when I regretted telling him about Y/N and what I felt for her. I had let everything out about a year after leaving Celic, alcohol being the one to blame for my loose lips. I remember grabbing a few bottles of vodka and heading to the deck where I’d be able to drink alone and be with my thoughts. I had downed about a bottle and a half before Seonghwa joined me. At the time he looked drunker than I was, unable to walk without stumbling over his own two feet. I had thought whatever I told him he’d forget about the very next day but I was sorely mistaken. For the next few months after that he’d tease me endlessly about my unrequited love. I chuckled softly to myself at the thought, finally putting a name to the feeling. Back then I had convinced myself it was nothing but attraction and maybe even a bit of fondness for her, she was the only person in town that didn’t shy away from me with just one look at me. I had told myself that to somehow ease my heart and keep it from missing her because it hurt too much but I guess it hurt that much because I really did love her. Love...funny how I scoffed at the idea so long ago as if it repulsed me. Now--Now I think I’d be capable of doing just about anything for that love. And to think that love developed in a little under two months.

“Why are you asking a question you already know the answer to?” I answered his question with a question of my own, side eyeing him with a raised brow, a smirk playing at my lips.

He huffed out a breath, a grin tugging at his own lips, “I think this will do us all some good...after everything we’ve been through.”

The smirk that was on my face disappeared, a melancholic look replacing it as I stared down at the waves that slapped at the side of the ship. Not only did that stop in Borum cost us a few years, it cost us a few lives. In the fight to get away we were heavily outnumbered but not outmatched. Every single person that was a part of my crew was skilled in one art of fighting or another. I was confident we’d all get away but after the first one of us fell more and more followed until I was left with only a little over half of them alive and fighting for their lives. I realized too late that our skills meant nothing against a force more than four times our size. I was too confident, too stubborn to order a retreat until it was far too late. 

“I’m sorry…” I muttered, unconsciously clenching my hands into fists.

Seonghwa sighed heavily, turning around so his back was leaning against the rails, staring up into the sky, “You know, even if you had called for a retreat we would’ve stayed to fight. Us pirates are stubborn bastards like that. And besides...we knew what we were getting into when we decided to join you. Don’t worry about things like this, you’ll start growing gray hairs if you do.”

He gave me a firm pat on the shoulder as he pushed himself off the railing and walked away. I stared after him as he left, the frown on my face deepening. Of all people he should resent me the most, his younger brother was among those that had fallen that day. Seonghwa wouldn’t speak a word for months after that day, keeping to himself, huddled in the corner of his cell as he stared off into space. His brother was the only family he had left, the two the sole survivors of a raid. I was certain he had died along with his brother but six months later he was back to his usual self, it was a bit alarming. I expected him to resent me for what happened to his brother and I wouldn’t blame him for it but he acted as if nothing even happened which was even more worrisome. I wanted to talk to him about the whole thing but every time I tried he seemed to know what I wanted to talk about and he would ramble on about God knows what until I grew frustrated with him and forgot all about the talk I wanted to have with him.

“Captain! I spot land!” Mingi shouted, pointing to the strip of land he spotted on the horizon.

. . . . . .

“What the hell happened here?” I mumbled under my breath, looking around at the shops and houses.

Roofs were caved in, whole walls nothing but rubble on the ground, the majority of the buildings were destroyed. I looked around at the people that walked by, seeing how grim and miserable their faces were. Everyone here used to walk around with a smile, now--now it was like a dark cloud followed everyone around. As I was looking at the faces of the townspeople I spotted one I recognized, it wasn’t the one I was here to see but still a familiar one.

“Eunwoo! What happened here?” I asked, running up to him.

He furrowed his brows, his eyes searching my face until a look of recognition crossed his face, “Ah, Hongjoong... it’s been awhile,” He gave me a small smile before averting his eyes and gazing out into the town, “Bandits, a huge group of them, maybe twenty or more I can’t really remember. They came in the dead of night, surprising most of us. They stole from whoever was out and broke into shops and homes to steal from those who were asleep. They set fire to a few buildings and it spread rather quickly. We buried people for about a week straight...so many died that night. It actually happened a few months after you left. As you can see the town hasn’t been able to recover. I’ve actually only just reopened my pub, you’re all welcome any time. It’d be nice to have some customers…”

The color drained from my face as I stared at him in shock, wide eyed, “You said they came at night, right?”

“Yeah,” He said with a nod, a thoughtful look settling on his face, “I think it was around two or three in the morning? The sun started coming up a few hours after they started so I’m guessing it was around that time. Even if they came in broad daylight we would’ve been unprepared. They came from the north, less people live in that direction and the houses are more spread out so by the time word reached us it would’ve been too late.”

From the north? That’s where her house was. When realization finally dawned on me I set off towards her house, running at full speed. If it was at the time he said it was she was either on her way home or still at the pub. If she was on her way home she probably ran into them and if she was still at the pub she would have booked it back home, worried about the kids. I didn’t have much hope that the bandits left the kids alone since they didn’t have anything of value they could steal. I’ve dealt with a few bandits myself and if you don’t have anything worth stealing they kill you. If the kids were at home alone then Yuri would’ve protected them with the little knowledge I left him with but that knowledge would be completely useless against someone with years of experience. All the what if scenarios played out in my head as I ran, pushing myself to keep up this speed and not slow down. I was hoping, praying they’d all be alright.

After running for what felt like forever I finally got to the top of the hill that led to their house, my chest heaving up and down as I searched for any signs of life. It was alarming how quiet it was. Not wanting to waste another second I ran the rest of the way down, slowing to a walk when I got close enough. I came to a complete stop at the front door, hesitantly reaching out to wrap my hand around the doorknob, turning it slowly before pushing the door open. 

The moment I opened the door my heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. The once brightly lit home was now shrouded in darkness, the couch and chairs looking as if no one had sat in them in years. I took small steps forward, coming to stand in the doorway that led to the kitchen and it looked as dead as the living room. So it's true then...she’s gone and so are the kids. Finally realizing that my shoulders slumped as I inhaled shakily, my hand coming up to my face as I tried to control my emotions. I staggered back my legs feeling like they’d give out any second but before they had a chance to I was tackled to the ground. I groaned low in my throat, wincing when I felt fingers comb through my hair and roughly grabbed it, pulling at the roots and lifting my head off the ground, something cold resting against my throat.

“Who are you and what are you doing in my house?” A voice I thought I would never hear again growled, her breath fanning my ear.

“Y/N?” I asked without thinking, the fingers in my hair pulling tighter as the thing she had pressed against my neck dug deeper into my skin, making me hiss out in pain.

“How do you know my name?” She asked, her voice still as firm.

I felt the warmth of my blood slide down the length of my neck, the blade she held to my neck ready to kill me if I didn’t answer her, “It’s me! Hongjoong!”

The fingers she had tangled in my hair loosened at the sound of my name, the blade lifting off my neck ever so slightly. I let out a sigh of relief only for that relief to be short lived as she grabbed at the back of my collar and flipped me over so I lay face up. She didn’t give me time to question her as she lifted me to my feet and dragged me over to the windows. With one hard and fast yank she pulled open the curtains, sunlight streaming into the house. Her eyes scanned over my face but they weren’t the same eyes I remembered. These eyes that looked at me now were cold and...empty, full of resentment for the world. The longer she stared at me the more her eyes softened until she let me go, her hands falling to her sides.

“Hongjoong? What--What are you doing here?” She asked, her voice so low if I wasn’t this close to her I wouldn’t have been able to hear a word she said.

I gave her a small smile, tentatively reaching out to faintly brush my fingers against her cheek. She pulled back when she felt my fingers on her skin, taking a step back to create some space between us. Now that I saw her in the light it wasn’t just her eyes that seemed different, she was different. She used to look so kind and carefree, the way she would stand was so open, inviting people to come talk to her but now it was the complete opposite. She seemed closed off, defensive, and intimidating. Even the smile lines she had turned into frown lines. So much had changed in just a few years I regretted leaving now more than ever.

“Answer me. What are you doing here?” She asked, her voice sharp as she narrowed her eyes at me, “It's been four years since I last saw you, why have you suddenly turned up now?”

I flinched at her tone of voice, frowning. I could tell how she felt just by listening to her voice. Her voice showed me just how much my leaving hurt her and I didn’t blame her for it. I did leave abruptly and without telling her a thing about it. In hindsight I should’ve told her so it wouldn’t have hurt so much but how was I supposed to do that? I couldn’t reveal that I was a pirate that sailed the seas in search of people to rob and treasures to discover. I couldn’t tell her that on top of being a thief I was a murderer. I didn’t want her to look at me with fear and disgust. I was able to take those looks from other people and I didn’t care but if I got that look from her...it would’ve killed me. Even after knowing she’d probably be disgusted with me I came back, for her. 

“I...got caught up in something and that delayed my return.” I said, rubbing the back of my neck nervously. 

She nodded along to my words, walking over to the couch before plopping down on to the cushions. She reached for a bottle I hadn’t seen that was on the small table that sat beside the couch. When she brought it up to her lips I noticed it was a bottle of rum. I raised a brow as I watched her drink the alcohol with ease, downing it as if it was water. 

“I thought you weren’t much of a drinker?” I asked, taking a step away from the window, leaning an arm against the nearest chair. 

She let out a dry laugh in response, taking another sip of the rum, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but a lot of things have changed around here,” She said in a low tone, staring down at the ground before taking another drink, “So excuse me for having changed a bit in the time you’ve were gone.”

I sighed heavily at her words, a frown on my face as I looked away from her. Silence fell of the two of us, neither one knowing where to continue this conversation or how to start a new one. Things weren’t like they were before, I barely recognized the person in front of me so I found it difficult to speak like I had with her in the past. My eyes roamed the room, the frown deepening as I thought of the kids, knowing they had to be dead for the house to be so quiet. 

“Y/N...I’m sorry about the k-”

“What brings you back to Celic? I was sure I’d never see you again.” She spoke, cutting me off before I could express my condolences.

I stared at her in shock, my brows raised at her sudden question. I searched her face for, well to be frank I don’t know what but I wanted to find something besides the empty look that was in her eyes but she didn’t give anything away. Right, she probably doesn’t want to talk about it. But is it alright for her to keep it in? I shook my head, figuring that this wasn’t the time. 

“To be honest...you.” I said, sitting down. I watched her for any type of reaction but she gave none, “I missed you and I...I wanted to apologize for leaving like I did. I should’ve told you or at least given you some kind of hint instead of leaving abruptly.”

She stayed quiet for a moment before a smirk played at her lips, “Well you didn’t have to come all the way here for that. It’s been years, I say let bygones be bygones,” She chuckled softly, leaning forward resting her elbows on her knees, “Let's be really honest here shall we? You came back here because you finally managed to escape the hellhole you were locked up in and wanted to lay low for awhile.”

I was stunned into silence, her deduction being spot on. How? Had she known who I was from the beginning? But I was careful...how could she have found out?

“Don’t look so surprised. It may have gone over your head back then but I’ve always been very observant and I was careful in how I observed everything about you so it's not surprising that you never noticed. I made sure to carry myself in a way that made people let their guard down around me,” She said with a grin, opening a new bottle of alcohol, “And it works, like a charm. You should try it sometimes. Anyway! I guess the pirate lifestyle hasn’t been treating you too well if you came running back to a place like this.”

“Y/N...just what happened to you?” I asked the stranger that sat within arms reach but felt so far away.

“I watched my siblings, children I raised as if they were my own, drowned in a pool of their own blood. I came home to the sounds of their screams, begged them to spare the kids and take me instead but they were ruthless. They knocked me out and when I came to the kids were dead and Yuri was no one to be seen. And like the end of a bad joke I was left alive, without so much as a scratch on me. That’s what happened to me Hongjoong.” She snapped, her trembling voice giving away how she felt as she kept her expression blank, her eyes burning with a fire so intense I had to look away. 

-Y/N’s P.O.V-

I moved my gaze away from him and stared at the empty fireplace, my mind drifting to that night. Their screams rang in my ears, the images of their bodies flashing in my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, my hand wrapping around the pendant that hung from the necklace I wore, shaking my head. I huffed out a breath and brought the bottle back up to my lips to drink some more but before the liquid even hit my lips the bottle was snatched out of my hands. I inhaled slowly, leaning back against the couch and looked towards Hongjoong, a bored expression on my face but said nothing.

“I think you’ve had enough don’t you?” 

I scoffed, a wry smile on my face, “Trust me, it's not nearly enough,” I said as I reached out to grab the bottle but he moved it out of my reach. The smile on my face disappeared, a frown replacing it as I glared at him, “Give it back.”

“No.”

I stared him down a second longer, rising to my feet and reached for the bottle again but he moved it away. I poked at the inside of my cheek with my tongue in annoyance, reaching over to grab the collar of his shirt instead. My eyes scanned over his face, seeing the determination to keep the bottle away from me in his eyes but there was something else in there. It had been a long time since I’d seen a look like that directed at me, in fact he was the only one that had given me a look like that. I snickered at the look, leaning in closer until my lips were softly brushing over his. He inhaled sharply at the feeling but he didn’t move. 

If you won’t let me drink to numb myself you’ll have to numb me yourself, I thought as I closed the small distance between us. He groaned low in his throat the second our lips touched, his free hand coming up to caress my cheek. I pushed forward, deepening the kiss as I swiped my tongue across his bottom lip, asking for entrance. I didn’t have to ask twice as he opened his mouth, his tongue coming out to meet mine in a battle for dominance. I pushed forward once more, climbing on top of the chair and settled on top of him, my legs straddling his lap. His breath hitch the second I sat on his lap, his lips pulling away from mine when he felt my hips begin to grind against his. I felt him shiver underneath my touch as I swooped down, attaching my lips to the side of his neck, biting and sucking a mark onto his skin. Just as I was getting started he put a hand on my shoulder, pushing me away from him gently. I stared down at him, panting heavily, my gaze glued to his lips.

“Y/N stop, this--this isn’t you.” He said, his voice strained as if he was in pain.

I scoffed out a breathy laugh, the sound dry and void of emotion, “It is now. If you don’t like it the door is wide open, you can walk right out,” I spat, grabbing the bottle out of his hand roughly, “Stop trying to look for the Y/N you once knew, she died that night four years ago. What you see is what you get.”

.

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Tags : @myjiminmychimchim​ @atinyarmyx1​ @shaniquacynthia​ @utopiakys​

[glossyeon]

natm || pt. 2 || osh

*All credit goes to the creators of these images*

~𝘏𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘧 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘴, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮…~

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Museum Curator!Sehun x Sculpture!Reader

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: sexual content, oral m recieving, fingering, Sad scenes, Reader is a sculpture?, Swearing, Lot’s of grammar mistakes, heartbreaking and heartwarming scenes ahead…

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 2.3k

𝘼/𝙉:This has been a series that I’ve been dying to do for a very long time! I think Museum Curator!Sehun is such an uncommon paring that we need more of these days. Also inspired by Night at the Museum Movie Series... Enjoy!

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘮 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘖𝘩 𝘚𝘦𝘩𝘶𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘮 𝘊𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘤𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 12...

                                    ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was the early hours of the morning when Oh Sehun was only done a quarter of his assigned research. Despite his former role as head curator at the International Art Museum in New York - a highly respected position, Sehun had succumbed to doing the dirty work for the head director Johnny Suh. The reason? To secure his job and title. 

While in New York, Sehun was fired due to circumstances that remain only between him and director Suh. Even if he did have a unique eye for art and historical artifacts, that didn’t matter to the higher ups in the field if he lied. Thus, assigning pages of research and tasks for the next year was deemed a reasonable punishment in the eyes of the department. 

Sehun’s eyes are sore and tired from the countless words he’s read. His wrist aches from the pages he’s recorded, and all he wants is to quickly go home to the comfort of his cat and couch. groaning at the papers and books sprawled out in front of him, sehun covers his face with his book, eyes closing in frustration. “8 more months... just 8 more months” he assuringly murmurs to himself.

he may be tired but he doesn’t fail to notice the white cloth that drags behind a figure. wondering if he’s seeing things, he forces himself to waken up and lift the edges of the book that blocks the full view. that let’s him get a glimpse of your shadowy figure that’s swiftly prancing through the shelves of books. Your white dress dances behind you, matching the movements of your long curls, and he swears he’s seen you before. 

“One of the actors that dresses up for the kids exhibit?” - It doesn’t make sense since it’s far too late for them to be getting off work. “A part timer?” There weren’t any newbies that he remembered to resemble your appearance.

Carefully controlling your movements and sounds, you successfully make it a few feet away from the door, unbeknownst that Sehun’s eyes were glued to you. He knows that no one would enter the library and leave without a book or record in their hands. You simply held the fabrics of your dress, clutching tightly with all your might.

“You’re forgetting something aren’t you?”

You held your breath, hands stopping just at the handles of the wooden doors.

“Shit” 

The sounds of a chair being pushed back and precise footsteps followed in your direction. “You seem to have left what you were looking for haven’t you? He studied the back of your outfit and perked his brow in suspicion. “Which department are you from? Archiving? Communications?” Your silence confirmed the curator that you could be a museum thief or a spy for another museum. “Who are you?” he asked, getting ready to spin you around and reveal your identity. But before he could do anything else, you did what you thought was best. 

Flee.

Sehun chased after you, determined to find your true identity. Pushing the heavy and old iron doors of the library you ran as fast as you could, away from the strange man. Still clutching your dress with fear, you ran under the hanging war planes displayed above the main entrance. Usually you would have stopped to admire the grand aircrafts like every other night, but tonight you were running too fast to stop. Your pace quickened after hearing the fast approaching steps of Sehun, indicating he was right on your tail

Arriving to the main hallway of the museum, it was bustling with the many relics and artifacts that had come to life. From prominent war generals perched on their horses to the famous yet very dead British royalty that filled the room. Obviously wax figures of the originals. 

Scanning for someone to let them know about the witness, a hand suddenly grasps your own, spinning you around to stare at them. Panting and out of breath, Sehun smirks at your surprised reaction. “You didn’t answer my question”

aggressively trying to free from his strong grasp, you pleaded desperately. “Please.. let me go...” his expression softened and he released some of the pressure. Instead, he pulls you closer to his chest and whispers in your ear. The distance made you blush with embarrassment and try to move away but he didn’t let go this time either. “There will be consequences to your actions.” he threatened. “The museum security and police department will take action if you don’t say who-”

Sehun’s words faltered, entranced with the view behind you. People, objects, and animals of all historical time periods were together. William Shakespeare was talking to Muhammad Ali, while a massive Jeff Koons ballon dog was prancing amongst cavemen singing the new Katy Perry song. 

It was a sight that made Sehun astonished enough to loosen the grip on your wrist completely. Seeing this as your chance for escape, and revenge, you slapped Sehun right on the cheek. The impact of the slap left a visible red mark on his skin, along with an echoing sound that brought attention to the scene unfolding. 

You scoffed at the disbelief evident in his face, and turned around swiftly, your long hair grazing his face. You made your way to HyunA and Lisa who sat by the water fountain, stopping in the midst of their conversation to what the commotion was. Instead of you, Sehun was more-so worried about the sharp swords that were now being held against him. 

At the words of war general E. Dawn - who happened to be in the room, British soldiers held their weapons against Sehun and slowly cornered him to a wall. The room’s vibrant chatter had now come to a silence as others realized what was happening. Sehun gulped in fear but didn’t back down and analyzed the situation logically. Spreading out a hand of reassurance he negotiated with them. “I’m not a threat. Just let me go and I won’t say a thing about tonight to anyone else” He was sincere and to the point.

Dawn rejected his offer, and made his way to Sehun. Eyes filled with suspicion and distrust, he didn’t hesitate to raise his own sword to Sehun’s neck. When that happened Sehun closed his eyes, slowly falling to his knees and raising his hands in surrender. Gasping in fear, you pushing through the crowd that formed around them, and yelled at Dawn. 

“Stop!”

Sehun opened his eyes in bewilderment at your actions, staring at you as if you were crazy. Not long ago was he the person that threatened to hand you over to authorities. Dawn mimicked Sehun’s expression and looked you up and down. You were well acquainted with E. Dawn, occasionally nodding heads to each other when you passed the hallways at night. But he was more so HyunA’s type, all solemn, serious, and virtuous. 

“You’re brain must still be marble Y/N! This man needs to be terminated immediately, or else every artifact in this museum will be shipped off to be torn and teared apart by officials!” 

The others cheered him, agreeing whole-heartedly with the general of the British. You sighed and glanced from Dawn to Sehun. Putting your best smile and persuasive voice you lowered his sword. 

“Why general Dawn, this man had sworn to keep tonights events a secret! Could you not find an ounce of sympathy for him? Plus, where would we put the contents of his decapitated body?” you asked, batting your eyelashes as naturally as you could.

Sehun couldn’t help but smile and quietly scoff at your attempt of persuasion: key word, attempt. You were definitely one of kind. 

Dawn began to take in your words, thinking about the consequences of murdering the man. Dawn wasn’t the most hardest to persuade. Glancing back to Sehun, he grabbed his turtleneck up. “What is your name?” he asked roughly.

Sehun eyes flickered from Dawn’s eyes, before staring in yours and saying,

“It’s Sehun. Oh Sehun”

Taking a few moments to think a bit more, the general came to a final conclusion. He released the grip from Sehun’s shirt, and brought him up to stand on his feet. Wrapping a less than comforting arm around his shoulders, and smiling assuringly to the crowd 

“My fellow friends of the museum! You must have all been scared for a second. Do not worry! 

“Sehun will not tell a single soul about tonight, right Sehun..” 

Sehun stayed still, lips curling into a disapproving frown when he glanced downwards to Dawn’s hands on his shoulder.“If I find out that that mouth of yours has blabbered about some nonsense of real life wax figures and artifacts...” Dawn began laughing jokingly before he leaned in to whisper something in his ears. Sehun didn’t falter, never taking his eyes off yours like before. 

“What is up with this guy?” you thought, biting your lip in disarray

                                             ━━━━━━━━━━

The crowd agreed on Sehun’s promise, letting him now roam the museum halls without the fear of getting jabbed by a sword. Now walking back to the library, side by side with him, you couldn’t help but feel a mixture of embarrassment and shyness. What were you to say to him? You’re welcome for preventing you from getting decapitated? Sorry for slapping your cheek? You huffed quite louder than you wanted, sehun turning his head to look at your awkward state. He smiled a genuine one. 

You had saved him. Showed him mercy even when he wasn’t the nicest to you. He cleared his throat. 

“I wanted to say thank you.” he said. You looked up at him flustered. This was your first time speaking to a real person in a very very long time and you didn’t know how to reply. 

“And apologize. I wasn’t very nice to you even though you saved me from getting killed.” He huffed. You reached the library doors, turning around to face him. You don’t know if it was the lighting above the doors or the electricity running through your veins, but you can now clearly see and focus on Sehun’s face. 

Although his eyes looked down in self-disappointment, you could see his well chiseled jaw, nice lips, and a clean well taken care image. He was in fact, not that bad looking. Quite nice to look at even. 

Shaking yourself of anymore weird thoughts, you waved your hands in reassurance. “Oh no! It’s fine! I wasn’t really supposed to be in the library of records anyways, and I shouldn’t have... slapped you...” you quietly admitted, now looking down at your bare feet. Sculptures didn’t normally wear shoes.

sehun admired you. you were beautiful. enchanting, charming and cute. you had stuck up for him, and showed kindness. Plus you were quite funny. 

Sehun’s head rolled back, chuckling at your embarassment. After seeing your confused face, he explained. “sorry it’s just... you were pretty convincing back there to the general guy” Rosy cheeks appeared on your honey skin and you jokingly defended yourself. “You were about to be decapitated! What else could I have said to persuade him?”

He looked into your eyes amused, causing your heart beat to speed up. 

Why do I feel so warm? Are my cheeks burning? you asked yourself, hand coming up to cool down your face. 

“You’re from the ancient greek art gallery, correct?” he suddenly asked. “It’s just that I’ve seen you on my way to my office in the mornings. You’re Y/N, the sculpture that almost everyone that comes to the museum adores” he confessed smiling. This makes you smile, happy and embarrassed to know this. 

Sehun doesn’t hesitate to ask again. “Have you been alone for all these years?”

You’re quick to answer. “Gosh, you say that like it’s a curse. For your information, I do have friends of my own that I spend time together with” you explained annoyed. 

He smirks at your cute response and strong personality, holding up his hands in defence. “Just asking”

You’re about to say something else when Lisa suddenly appears in front of you, blocking you from sehun with folded arms and a tiny overprotective glare. You wondered how she even knew you two were here...

“So you must be that new museum curator that everyone has been talking about huh?” she says “you” with a bit of a tone, not afraid of showing Sehun her true emotions. Lisa’s million dollar gaze that leaves almost everyone shaking is showing. And that’s when you know the cogs in Lisa’s brain are running and working, jumping to conclusions or wrong ideas. 

“Lisa..” you pleaded, tugging on your friends arm to tone it down. 

“Yes I am. It’s an honor to be speaking with Mona Lisa herself” Sehun says politely and charmingly, extending a hand for her to shake. 

Lisa hates bullshit. So she cuts to the chase. 

Ignoring his hand, she then states. “Look, I’m not sure what you’re trying to get from the artifacts of this museum, but you will not get anything from my best friend.” Lisa steps closer, leaning in to warn him. “I know things about every person in this place.” she stares directly into his eyes. “Things that could ruin reputations” she continued softly yet deadly.

Sehun doesn’t waver at all when he is put up against the Mona Lisa. And I gotta give props to him for that. Before I could defend the poor man, Lisa grasps my hand and pulls me away. “Let’s go Y/N”

Lisa may be mentally strong, but she's physically strong as well. Her grip leads me away, looking back at a bewildered Sehun. “Lisa it’s fine, geez” I assure my friend, who is still mindlessly dragging me away. I looked back to sehun and expressed a sorry expression. He smiles and says something back that makes me feel something new inside. 

“see you around Y/N”

all while smirking in that black turtle neck, hand waving back at me. God, the things that Oh Sehun is starting to do to me. 

Lisa ruins the mood by shouting back 

“No she wont!!!”

(Copyright 2020 © Glossyeon // all rights reserved)

[fckyeahdaisukekambe]

[ROUGH ENG TRANS] FUGOU KEIJI NOVEL: THE MILLIONAIRE DETECTIVE’S DECOY (Part 9)

Part 9 is about rich people problems. 'nuff said.

"A dance party?" Kikuemon slowly stretched his back on his wheelchair. "Interesting. It's been a few years since we had a party in the house."

"Can we do it?" Daisuke loosened his expression because of relief.

"I'll be glad if it will be useful to your investigation. One thing, make it extravagant." The old man began to speak after signaling to Suzue, who has been waiting in the corner of the study room. "Prepare an invitation right away. Call all the chairs, presidents, and heads of companies and bank which we have business relationships. Call three or four ministers. Ambassadors should be five because it will be more interesting if we have mixed foreigners. Oh, and of course, all of my wife's company. Let's invite a famous actress abroad. I don't know what kind of actress is popular now, but I hope a young and beautiful actress. Call and ask the art director to bring in three or forty young actresses, and for music, the London Philharmonic."

(TL: even though I have read this I am still shookt at the three to forty actresses coz that just escalated so quickly lol and damn, a house party with the London Philharmonic orchestra?!)

"The symphony is a little too much," Daisuke rushed. "There are hundreds of members in a orchestra. We won't need such a large band. Rather, let's have a 50-string orchestra."

"Then, let's do that. Mantovani is a bit old. I don't know who is good now. Paul Mauriat. Let's have him. Then of course, let's call chefs from France, around seven or eight. The entertainment should be good magic. Let's have a circus in the garden. Let's call Hikita Tenko and Kinoshita. What do you mean there is no time now? Make it in time or else, it will not be a party."

(TL: Paul Mauriat and Mantovani are both orchestra leaders while Hikita Tenko is a magician. I don't know who Kinoshita is but it think he's probably a magician or someone who also does circus acts during the Showa Era)

Furthermore, while Kikuemon continued to talk about the plans for the party, he continued to write down notes and when he rested his pen a little, Suzue came to Daisuke. "Suzue-san. I have to get you to play a role."

"What?" Kikuemon showed a somewhat stern expression. "Isn't it a dangerous role?"

"No. I'm happy to cooperate if it will help in the investigation." Suzue's face flushed. "Even if it's  a little dangerous."

"It's not dangerous," Daisuke declared. "The four suspects all seem to like you, so I want you to use the party to approach and lure them."

"What lure?" Kikuemon widened his eyes.

"Hmmm, what kind of lure is it?" Daisuke told his plan to Suzue.

"I'm impressed." Suzue smiled at Kikuemon who's anxious for her. "It's okay. I can do that. I'm not a little girl anymore." Suzue nodded to Daisuke. "I mean, I'll just be a decoy."

"Yes, you'll be the decoy." Daisuke hesitated to add that she will be beautiful decoy, but decided not to say anything after all.

______________

Hatano thought that it was another world. This is another world. A completely different world from the one he lives in. A twelve-lamp chandelier that brightly illuminates the large hall with twenty glass doors open towards the garden. There under, dressed up people dancing, laughing, drinking, and talking. To the left and right of the large hall, rare fruits are on the table and the interiors are adorned with different flowers from around the world. Buckets of food and champagne are being brought one after another. Then, young men and women stroll in the garden lawn illuminated with hundred lights while the nine string melody is playing. The scene made Hatano, who's standing in the corned of the hall, heart sink rather gloomy. It was because he know how unsuitable he is for the place.

"I didn't think this kind of world really exist in our time. It's completely like an old-fashioned aristocratic society. Are we really in Japan?" Suda felt like he sobered up. "I used to know only one side of our society. I didn't even know such reality exist. This is actually why I keep insulting rich people." Embarassed with his clothes and with a glass of champagne given to him, Suda has been sitting in an inconspicious place under the stairs in the entrance hall for some time. It was clear that the young actresses would look down at him with contempt if he went out to the wide area. He's angry at Daisuke for inviting him and at himself for going. He thought maybe Daisuke is busy entertaining the other guests somewhere but he didn't show up and Suda couldn't help being overwhelmed by the number of guests.

Hayakawa wondered if he should return. Tired of being alone and lonely, he stood by the terrace with a frustrated look. Better yet, he could just get drunk but that would be unacceptable. It seemed like the circus has began in the corner of the garden and he had a loud laugh, but Hayakawa felt like a ridicule to himself and he became more depressed.

After boldly asking a young woman to accompany him but didn't accept, he couldn't invite anyone to dance anymore and Sakamoto gazed at his champagne and looked around him with frustration. He's been to business parties but he's always been in a position to serve. Damn, I wonder if I could only put myself on the service side, he thought. He's going to wear his best clothes so he shouldn't be too out of place, He can say to himself that it's not strange at all. After all, he thinks that the people who look at it can only see it as fashionable are those who are poor, so he shrugged. He came to the side of the bar where fellows like him are making drinks, so he finally found his place and felt calm.

"Oh, you're here." Suzue came and stood in front of Hatano. "I've been looking for you for some time."

At first, Hatano didn't think that the voice is calling for him, and he didn't even think it was Suzue. As soon as he felt that someone beautiful in a white dress is approaching him, he immediately turned away by instinct, which hurts him more. "Ms. Suzue," Hatano have bleary eyes but his eyes widened and got distracted when he glanced at Suzue's chest. "Sorry, there must be a mistake."

"No, I'm not mistaking it." With a friendly smile, Suzue looked at Hatano. "You were alone all this time. I'm really sorry for not entertaining you."

Nobody cares about me, he wanted to mutter such words but Hatano shook his head. "That's not true. I’m actually enjoying it."

THIS IS ACTUALLY ALSO LEFT ME HANGING BEC NEXT WOULD BE ABOUT SUDA ALREADYYYY. anyway late upload bec i know i will probably die from overwork soon lol.

[miss-tc-nova]

Feeling Better - Hermod x Reader

Okay, sorry I’ve been a bit slow, but I’m okay! I’ve been kinda busy with adult stuff while prepping the first round of Nova’s KH Fanfic Appraisal, as well as working on something big I’ll talk about later, AND helping out someone with stuff they’ve got. ALL while trying to write some much needed fluffs! So I been kinda busy! But here we go! I’m not entirely sure yet, but I might have some Smarmy comin’ up in a few days too. 

Oh! And check out this Hermod art by  @nokonokooira on Twitter! Definitely stared at it while writing this!

Music inspiration: “Beam Me Up” by P!nk

~~~~~

               “UuuuaaaaAAAAGGGGHHHHHH!”

               Needless to say, this day cannot get any worse.

               Soaked through and through, I squelch into the student dorms as furious as a wet cat and probably looking just as ridiculous. Each step leaves a sodden, slippery trail behind me, leading to the commons area. The running theme of the day—bad luck—ensures that all of my classmates are there to witness the miserable state I’m dripping in.

               Smarmy Fluffcoat opens his stupid, smarmy mouth but I beat him to the punch.

               “Bragi, I swear to the Infernean god, Ifrit, if you so much as breathe at me, I will kick your ass,” I snarl, fully prepared to back up every burning syllable.  

               “Sheesh. Well aren’t you just a ray of sunshine.”

               Fury triggered, I charge towards his chair only for a handful of my classmates to bar the path. Fighting my way through them would’ve caused me no immediate remorse, but they’re lucky that the only one who can stop me is the first I come across. Hands outstretched to meet my shoulders, he’s stronger than I am; that and other current circumstances prevent me from brawling my way through.

               “Woah, woah. Take it easy.” Even just hearing the smooth and steady intonation of his voice begins to soothe the rage. “Look. Look at me.” A gentle finger taps at my chin to encourage breaking eye contact with my potential victim. Instead, I peer up into his cool, slate-colored eyes. “You should go get cleaned up.” My glare just can’t stand up against that gentle expression. “Go on. Go get cleaned up.”

               “No use takin’ a shower,” Bragi calls. “It looks like they already—” Every pair of eyes, including his savior’s, turns on Fluffcoat and he clams right up.

               The tall boy returns to me and nudges me towards the rooms. “Go.”

               Successfully quelled, I trudge on down the hall, distinctly hearing Hermod’s scolding of the antagonist.

               It’s a sheer miracle that I manage to make it to my room, change out of my doused clothing, and convince myself to amble back to the commons without any further mishaps. Hermod receives me with an embrace when I amble straight for him.  

               “Feel better?” My shoulders bounce in a shrug. The true answer is yes; with every beat of his heart against my ear, the coil of distress I’d wound over the day loosens just a little more. “Well, regardless, I think you need to apologize.”

               Trust has been betrayed! Leaning back, I scowl at him; nope, I still can’t argue with his smile. “Come on. You did threaten him.”

               With a defeated sigh, I face the boy who’s wearing the exact same chastised look—behind him, Vor stands with her arms folded.

               “Sorry,” we grumble.

               “For?” Vor prods.

               Bragi groans. “Sorry for teasing you when you were mad.”

               “Sorry for telling you I was gonna kick your ass,” I mumble.

               “They sound like grounded children,” Xehanort says, sitting between equally amused Urd and Eraqus.

               Urd points to the other girl. “Do you want to try to argue with Vor?”

               “…No.”

               My irritation at them is diverted when a soft kiss meets my temple. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

               With that, Hermod leads me away from the others and towards the fireplace. A crackling fire bathes my skin with a wave of warmth, soothing the sting in my freezing extremities. Dropping his haori over my shoulders, the boy sits beside me.

               “Do you wanna talk about why you came back soaking wet? Or why you were angry with Bragi?” Doing a better job than the fire, Hermod’s hands work to disperse the chill in my fingers.

               For a few moments, I resist; surely worse days are to come for a keyblade wielder. A bunch of silly, little mishaps really shouldn’t have resulted in the near massacre of a classmate—I should be better than that. The shame that I let such trivial things overwhelm me only adds to this disastrous day.

               “Hey.” My attention returns to the present, to him. “You can tell me.”

               Gods, I hate that my eyes water. “Today just…hasn’t been the best…”

               “What happened?”

               If I was going to tell anyone my dying secrets, it would be Hermod—not just because he’s my boyfriend. I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what it is, but he has this way of dissipating the weight of all my troubles. There’s yet been a moment of desolation that he hasn’t been able to dispel. Sure, he can’t just wipe away all my worries, but they’d certainly compound to something far worse without his intervention.

               So I tell Hermod about my rotten day, starting with the broken alarm. Lost assignments, failed tests, and punishments for being late add to the list, sprinkled in with missed meals in trying to make up for those mistakes. School aside, a forgotten wallet makes purchasing food in town impossible and someone’s mutt of a dog must’ve thought I insulted its mother. By the time the owner caught up, apparently it was my fault. And the cherry on top—on my way back to the castle, as I passed the fountain, a bunch of rowdy children started a fight. Their confrontation ended in a collision that sent me into the cold, running water—I had my school bag with me. Shortly after that was the threat on Smarmy.

               “And I know it’s stupid to get so worked up over things so petty but—” Fists curl in a terrible attempt to contain the frustrations that only build when my vision blurs.

               It takes him very little effort to slip his fingers into my grasp, replacing my clenched fists with a firm squeeze. “It’s not stupid. That really does sound like terrible day and you have every right to be upset.”            

               Getting even more worked up, I pull away, rubbing at my hazy sight. “I’m a keyblade warrior; I shouldn’t let these crappy, little things break me like this.”

               Keyblade training can be rough and there’s no doubt all of us have our fair share of calluses; despite this, the feel of Hermod’s palms against my face is a calming gesture. While that hint of pity would normally instigate me swatting him away, the mix of understanding and adoration has me pacified in his hold.

               “Being a warrior doesn’t make you heartless. You’re still human; things will bother you just as much as they bother anyone else.” Rough thumbs brush away the water that managed to escape me. “It’s okay to be upset on a bad day.” There’s a gentle chuckle. “After all that, I’d be pretty concerned if you weren’t.” One of those hands slides back through my hair. “That being said, it’s gonna be alright. Tomorrow is a new day and I know my darling isn’t going to let one bad day keep them down.” He leans in to nuzzle noses together. “Right?” Instinctively, I recoil but he’s succeeded in bringing up a smile. His task isn’t done though, not at all. Peppering my face with kisses, he repeats, “Right? Right?” I’m still a mess, but I’m a giggling mess by the time he finally lets up. “There’s my sweetheart.”

               “This is so sweet, I think I just got diabetes.”

               Fire surges beneath my skin as I realize my entire class is still present and has no doubt heard everything. Fluffcoat sits in his chair, grinning at us; what he doesn’t see is that fist Vor is raising behind him.

               “Ow!” She may be little, but I’m sure his shoulder is in some considerate pain.

               “Bragi!”

               “What?! I was just—”

               “Shh!”

               Offended yet not wanting to be struck again, Smarmy pulls his hood up and sinks in his seat. Meanwhile, as innocent as ever, Vor waves at us to continue as if we’re putting on a show. Currently no longer in need of the fire, I can only gawk in embarrassment. Hermod, on the other hand, isn’t fazed. Strong arms pull me into his lap to enjoy the fire and hold me there. Waves of fluffy hair brush against my face as his head dips to press a kiss into my shoulder.

               “Feel better now?”

               Fingers tangle into that mop of hair in an awkward hug. “Much. But I’m still starving.”

               With a small laugh, he nuzzles me again. “Dinner will be soon. Until then—” A kiss meets my cheek. Alongside that, his voice drops. “—I have other ways—” Another kiss to the nose and another drop. “—to occupy those pretty lips,” he ends in a whisper, effectively ending my miserable day.

[mahalkitajohnnysuh]

Resolution

As promised, here’s the next part of my previous post. Although things look like they can wrap up here, it’s only just the beginning for Johnny and Essie. 

Since I don’t write chronologically most of the time, please expect to read snippets before and after their relationship in the coming posts. 

Without further ado, here’s a long read that has a lot of commas and the word ‘really’. Please don’t turn this into a drinking game, okay? Johnny in the GIF will look at you disbelievingly if you do. But then, he might join you just for shits and giggles.

Mahal ko kayong lahat! :) 

–––

Summary: Johnny and Essie continue to be an awkward mess that their other best friend, Kibum, notices this change. He decides to help the two by ‘counseling’ them, and settle their differences – is there any at all? – once and for all. 

POV: 2nd person still. I started writing the bulk of my stories using this perspective before I switched back to 3rd. 

Word count: 2,100 + words 

Genre: Romance, and a teeny weeny bit of angst and hurt that you probably won’t feel it. At all. 

Warning: Mentions of someone smoking, if you’re uncomfortable with characters doing so. And I could use a couple because Lord knows it’s been two months since I’m clean of it. 

–––

Kibum is such a mom, you thought. You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes as he set a huge plate of pasta on the table. He cooked spaghetti with crabmeat sauce, which has edged chicken pesto out as your favorite pasta dish. You couldn’t help but clap your hands in glee as you saw the steam coming out from the plate.

“Well Essie, can you not fawn over the pasta and set the table?” Kibum was annoyed at your dilly-dallying and you immediately got to work by bringing out the fine china.

After all, he was at your apartment with him. The time has come for you to confront your problem with him, and Kibum was generous enough to give some of his time to ‘counsel’ you two.

“Youngho, can you check if we have drinks in the fridge?” The older guy ordered, and the person he asked lazily shuffled towards your red Smeg. “Hmmm, just water and a bottle of red wine. Is that okay? Or should I get some soda or something else?” He said a moment later, his hands running over the tops of the water pitchers.

“No, that’s okay. Bring them out, please,” Kibum said, returning to the table with a wooden board filled with cold cuts and cheese.

You ‘ooh’-ed at how wonderful your meal looked like, with the pasta, cold cuts, cheese, and steak. As Johnny placed the bottle of red wine in the middle of the table, you went to sit at your usual place. He sat across you, and Kibum settled in the middle.

“Thank you, Bumkey!” You and Johnny said in unison, which made the two of you look at each other. You felt your cheeks flush since it has been a while that the both of you said anything at the same time. You looked at your plate, and he did the same.

“Okay, guys? I really need to start this ‘counseling’ session since I don’t want things to become more awkward than they are,” Kibum grumbled, moving closer to the table. “So, what happened to the two of you? Why are you acting like you’re shy of each other?” He continued, hands spread wide to refer to his friends.

When no one answered, he grabbed the bottle of red wine and poured each glass. “Maybe this will loosen you up,” Kibum muttered, taking a sip of the Sangiovese you purposely reserved for special occasions. Although you consider this the opposite, maybe it’s about time that you drink it with your closest friends.

You took a sip and Johnny mirrored you, eyes shyly looking at each other. Kibum groaned again, getting frustrated with the situation. “This! It’s as if you guys are––” he paused as if something in his mind clicked.

“Are you guys in love with each other or something?”

You almost spit the wine you were drinking, and Johnny coughed. He hit the nail on the head, you thought. You set the glass on the table and slowly sank in your seat, wanting to disappear.

“Yeah, Kibum hyung. Well, I’m in love with her, but I’m not sure how she really feels for me,” Johnny said, now playing with the knife and fork. He was trying his best to be engrossed with the utensils, but then you caught him looking at you from time to time.

“You haven’t given him an answer, Essie? And what, it’s been like two weeks since we’ve been hanging out with this awkward air around us!” Kibum was near hysterics, his small eyes becoming bigger with each word that came out of his mouth.

“I’m sorry!” You started, sitting up straight this time. “Well, I really don’t know…I mean, I do love Johnny with all my heart, but I’m not sure if this is the time to start a relationship?” Your voice faltered at the end, and you couldn’t look at them both in the eye after your admission.

“Why not, Essie? You have been single for long,” Johnny said, eyes intently looking at your face.

“Yeah, dear. You haven’t dated in ages, and I don’t mind if the two of you will do so,” Kibum interjected.

Their answer made you feel how lonely you were for the past years, being single after dating a guy on and off until he ghosted you completely. You felt tears running down your face, and you covered it, ashamed at how you were feeling right now.

Since the guy across you does really love you, he went to your side immediately and wiped your tears with his handkerchief. “You really didn’t need to do that,” you mumbled in between his wiping, and he pinched your nose gently.

“But I want to,” he said softly, now wiping the snot under your nose. “And it hurts me when I see you crying.” He patted your head, and you couldn’t help but lean against his touch.

“Not that this is cute, but are we good now? And what were you crying about, dear?” Kibum interrupted your moment, a smirk gracing his features.

You rolled your eyes at his cheeky grin and batted Johnny back to his seat. “You guys had to remind me how lonely I’ve been, and my tears couldn’t help it,” you chuckled, wiping the last of your tears with your thumb.

“Aw, we’re sorry. But you know Johnny’s here, he’s going to take real good care of you!” The older guy said cheerfully, clapping his hands in glee like what you did earlier.

“But won’t us being together affect our dynamic as LBF?” You asked. You saw Johnny roll his eyes, and you slapped a hand on your forehead, realizing that it was a stupid question to ask.

“Well, the dynamic has changed with the two of you being weird for the past weeks. But nothing stays the same, dear. If you two get together, I might feel out of place due to my lack of love life,” Kibum’s honesty made you blush, and you looked at Johnny to see his reaction. He retained a poker face, his right hand cradling his chin.

“But that doesn’t matter. As long as I see you two being your usual annoying selves, then I’m happy,” the blond continued. This made you smile, and the guy across you as well.

You were glad that your closest friends are the most supportive people you have ever met, despite the times they make fun of you as if it was your last day on earth. You stood up, enveloping Johnny in a bear hug, and he returned it with the same intensity.

“I love you, baby,” he said, squeezing your sides.

You laughed first before returning the words he wanted to hear. “I love you too, you dork.”

“Okay…why don’t we eat? The food I cooked for you is now becoming cold!” Kibum once again interfered with your moment, clapping his hands loudly before digging into the pasta in front of him.

You let go of your lover and return to your seat, happily stacking your plate with steak, cheese, and pasta. As all of you load up your plates, your chatter returned to normal: the music you’ve been listening to lately, any art exhibits you can check out now, and even accessories for Kibum’s fabulous dogs.

Your insides felt warm as you watched Kibum laugh in his iconic way, with Johnny biting his lip in the corner trying not to burst into tears. You didn’t mind if you looked ugly while laughing; it has been a while since the three of you had this much fun over dinner.

///

After your scrumptious meal, the three of you hung out. Johnny’s arms were looped around your waist as you stared into the starry sky at the balcony.

Kibum was taking a call inside, which both of you understood as a private moment for him.

“So, Kibum hyung had to convince you otherwise to take a chance on me, eh?” He asked, nuzzling his head on your shoulder.

You tried to shrug but couldn’t since he was so close to you. “Well, it’s not that he’s the reason why we’re like this right now, but…I had to confront my feelings once and for all,” you replied.

He hummed in response, burying his head deeper into your shoulder. You can smell his cologne in this position, and you couldn’t help but turn around and kiss the top of his head.

“You smell really nice,” you started, wrapping your arms around his neck. “And so do you,” he replied.

You know that the two of you can get touchy with each other, but this was a whole new level. You guys have reached lover territory, which you still haven’t fully grasped yet.

Your foreheads were now touching, and he led you to slow dance. Even if there was no music playing, the sound of the city served as the beat to your movements. Your bodies pressed closer to each other, and your hands clasped tighter.

It was a moment you would never forget, and you hoped that he would think the same way too.

When he stopped swaying, he kissed your forehead. You were a bit startled, and he didn’t notice it. Instead, he continued to kiss your face – your eyes, your nose, your cheeks, your chin, until he settled for your lips at last.

It was a chaste peck, and you felt all fuzzy when his lips left yours.

“You’re awfully being too sweet, dear,” you said softly, looking at him straight in the eye. “I always am, especially to you,” he replied, returning the same intense gaze you were giving him.

He was about to kiss you again when you heard knocking on the glass door. Both of you turned around and saw Kibum enter, looking apologetic.

“I’m so sorry to ruin your moment again guys, but I have to leave. There’s an emergency I have to tend to,” he said.

You nodded in response, and Johnny had to pull away from you so the two of you can send the older guy off to his agenda. The three of you exchanged your last pleasantries until you waved him off outside your door.

“Congratulations, you lovebirds! I’m happy for you, but please, don’t make out in front of me and our friends,” were Kibum’s last words before he sped off to his car.

The two of you weren’t able to react to his statement, and he left you two dumbfounded. You looked at each other and laughed at how specific Kibum was about not making out.

“But I will want to make out with you, even if you smell like cigarettes,” Johnny said, pulling you back into his embrace. You felt embarrassed with his revelation and covered your face with your hands.

“No, Youngho, please don’t. Let me have some mint first before you do,” you said, slowly uncovering your face and meeting his. You loved it when he looked at you amusedly as if you were a puzzle that he has yet to solve even if he had already played it a thousand times.

“It doesn’t matter if you take a mint or not, but I also want you…” This time, he leaned so close against your ear that you can hear his slow and loud breathing, “To call me daddy when we’re alone,” he finished, kissing the side of your ear.

You just did not hear him suggest that. You pushed him away and crossed your arms over your chest. “Oh, come on, Johnny! Not that! Anything, but that!” You protested, pouting at his suggestion.

He doubled over in laughter at your reaction, and he even slapped his thighs for effect. “Oh no, baby, I know you will call me that sooner or later,” he said in between fits, “But now, I’m fine with anything you call me.”

“No, I won’t call you that! It sounds as if I’m really calling my dad! And you, sir, are not my dad,” you emphasized, hands on your hips this time.  

“I will be when you become the mother of my children,” Johnny said suggestively as he tackled you for another bear hug.

“Johnnyyyyyy!” You were flustered at the way your conversation was going and buried your head on his shoulder. “You’re making me feel so embarrassed right now!”

“But I do mean all the things I said, baby!” He replied in the same high pitch as you before he kissed your temple.

You stayed silent in his embrace, and he rocked you gently. The movement of your bodies relaxed you, and you closed your eyes in contentment.

This is how life is going to be now with him by my side, you thought. You opened an eye to look at him and saw that he had his eyes closed, but with a smile on his face.

–––

FIN

[feel199x]

don’t trust the b— in apartment 23!

don’t trust the b— in apartment 23!

best friend!minho, e2f2l!au, enemy!chan, college!au

masterlist

♫ summary: what the f is up kyle, no what the f is UP kyle, step the f UP

♫  warnings: brief description of blood, swearing, but overall very light-hearted, bit of a slow burn

♫  a/n: i thought this way funny adjajsdj hope u enjoy! this is basically an idiot plot asdhajdj

♫  song rec: babyface - wsjn, be my baby - sf9, feel - triple h, she is - ovan & shaun

Music is a universal language, that is a fact. There is nothing in this world that can reach the depth and emotion- and universally so- like music. It didn’t matter what language it was- if there were even any words, all that mattered was how you felt. 100 people could listen to one song, and each of those people could describe it differently. Really, was there anything more human than art? The bow pressed down on the violin hard, emitting a deep, vibrating sound that echoed in the auditorium.

Calloused fingers danced upon the violin string, playing by muscle memory and the late night repetition and frustrations. The floorboards underneath creaked as weight pressed on and off into the wood. There were watching, peering, judging eyes on the figure in the middle of the stage. Sweat started to bead, and breath built up in your lungs- clawing at the caverns, begging to be let out. Cheek pressed against the hot pad of the violin, an imprint was starting to form. Heartbeat started to thump, drum- veins coursing loud.

They were older, faces wrinkled and creased. Eyes prying and sharp, eager to note any mistake. They were here to take apart, tune out, absolve of any hope. They leaned with anticipation, fingers almost forgetting the pen to mark mistakes. Their paper was starch white, stark and blank, the creamy notes left blank.

The auditorium, however, was mostly empty. None but ghosts watching over the balcony. A show for everyone, and no one. Large and grand, but utterly unfilled. The seat and rows stacked upon each other, each and every placement made for a glimpse at the stage. All of it remained deep in the shadows, obscured by darkness. But rest assured, it was all there.

The attention was focused on the stage, as always. Bright lights consuming and enveloping the center figure. The high rise of the stage meant- that even for just this once- the experienced would be looking up instead of down at others. The bow’s horse hairs began to loosen, falling at the sides and onto the floor. All of this falling unknown to the shut eyes of the player.

It was a private twilight zone of sorts. In the middle of light and dark, the line between consciousness and reality, a middle ground- a tipping point of fear and knowledge. The chinrest of the violin began to stick to skin and the hot leather becoming moist. Every movement intensely followed with anticipation and an eagerness that should not have fallen unbeknownst.

If it had been any other task, any other subject, it would have not turned out this way. If it had been any subject, then surely failure would have found its way. But it hadn’t. Or, at the very least, not yet. It was ridiculous, this piece, really there was no point to it other than to show off technical abilities. It was extravagant and obnoxious- but in all the best ways. Blood began to drip onto the strings and onto the waist of the violin, slipping off the body and onto the once pale floor.

The finger pad’s skin had split again, abused by the harsh strings and fast-paced, not to mention the abusive nature of the frequent practices. Even through the thin band-aid, the pace had proved too much for the delicate fingers. And maybe, that should’ve been a sign for one to yield, but it hadn’t. It didn’t.

The end was near, in sight. Finally, the light shone at the end of the tunnel. The bright lights of the stage finally coming into view.

You dropped the arm holding the bow, bleeding fingers still pressed upon the neck of the violin. Finally, you breathed. Panting, hyperventilating, you looked down at your judges. The applause was much louder than the music, and your subsequent smile much brighter than the lights that had shone harshly on you. Hair stuck to your face, and with your chest heaving, you bowed again and again.

“Truly, the best rendition of twenty-four caprices I’ve ever heard. Really, there’s no competition. You’ll receive a call, but there’s really no question about it is there? You’ve earned a spot in this university.”

“Thank you for the opportunity.”

You bowed again and left the stage. The next hopeful student walked past you and into the lights just like you had. Hopefully, you’d never have to experience that again. Your attention turned to your bleeding fingers and you grimaced, looking at the heavy sight with mixed emotions. A grim trophy for your achievements. You unwrapped your cute bandaid and pulled another one out of your bag. It was still bleeding, making the yellow bandaid and happy bears tinted red. Pondering the unfortunate circumstance of the little bear, you sat staring at your poor fingers.

“Man, what happened to your fingers?”

 You looked up, snapped out of thought and turned to the inquiring voice. He didn’t look at you, staring with frowning eyebrows at the poor outcome of your fingers. He looked back up you expectantly, and nervously, you unwrapped another band-aid. “Ah, I was playing a sort of hard piece.”

“Sort of? Looks like you put your fingers went through hell.”

“Anything to get into this school, I guess.”

He began to tap his fingers on the armrest, watching as you wrapped your next finger in a new bandaid. “How was it? The judges, I mean.”

“To be honest, I’m not sure. I think it’s best if you tune them out completely.”

“So wise.” he sighed, sulking in his chair, “After hearing you play, I’m not sure singing trot is going to be good enough.”

You tucked your violin back into the case gently and secured the latches. “You’re amazing. You made it this far. Just sing your heart out, and I’m sure you’ll get in. Best of luck.”

“See you soon! Take care of your fingers.”

“Will do, thanks.”

 You slumped on your couch, your violin case resting on the floor beside you. You held up your arms up to the ceiling and stared at your fingers again as they dangled up above you. Your wrists ached as you rolled them, attempting to somehow soothe the sharp pain. There was really no way around it, it came with the hobby. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t complain about it. Sighing, you picked up your aging body and heaved yourself towards making dinner.

 There it was again. That rotten baseline was going to kill you, it really was. You groaned into the pillow you had shoved over your face and kicked your legs up in the air. One of these days you were going to fight your neighbor, you really were.

You sulked in your bed for a few minutes, pondering the fatality of your existence. You had planned on sleeping in the entire day, monument to the inglorious creature you were. But your plans had been follied by that damned baseline. Unfortunately, you knew you were no better. You had to practice your violin piece, and that meant repeating and starting over again, and again, and well. You just weren’t in any place to complain, now were you? In your defenses though, you had been planning to get those fancy violins where you could plug in headphones. You crossed your arms, pouting as the bass shook your furniture. You could still be upset though, but only in your head.

You got up to drink a glass of water, maybe you could finish that Netflix series you had been meaning to get to. If you were woken up, might as well stay awake. It was unlikely you’d be able to fall back asleep anyway. You settled onto your trembling couch, regretting the decision to come out of your bedroom. It wasn’t that the music was bad- in fact, it was good. Really good. But for the love of all good things in this world, did it really need to be this loud?

The next morning, you picked up your violin again. It wasn’t the best decision, but you couldn’t allow yourself to go rusty. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to expand the number of songs you could play. Your abused fingers pressed against the strings at a fast pace as you tried your best to play as fast as you could read the notes. It was no twenty-four caprices, but it wasn’t twinkle twinkle little star either. You could feel the blood soak the small pads of cotton in your bandaid, but you didn’t stop. You were so close, you couldn’t stop before you reached the climax of the song. The song reached its end, and you bowed to the imaginary audience, stepping off one of your dining chairs. Giving yourself a mental pat on the back, you exhaled.

Then, as you started looking for another pack of band-aids, the music started up again. Your soap dispenser almost fell off the edge of the sink. You resigned your search for the disappearing band-aids and opted to take a walk. As you stepped out of your apartment, you stuck your tongue out at your neighbor’s door. Could’ve you politely asked them to turn it down? Sure. But were you going to? No, absolutely not. But you could be passive aggressive and that seemed like the best option.

“Minho!” you shouted, “Minho!” A boy came out from the back, glaring at you. He crossed his arms and looked at you impatiently. He ignored you for a few moments, talking to a coworker before turning to you. “I told you not to visit me at work.”

You huffed, tapping your foot. Noticing, he sighed and stretched out your cheeks. “What’s wrong now? I told you I was going to come over after my shift.”

“You said that this apartment complex was nice and, and full of cool people!” He kept pinching your cheeks, amused at your outburst. “Yes, I did say that.” You groaned swatting and tapping as his hands so he would release the hostage of your cheeks. He let go finally, an amused look still plastered across his face. “Well, my neighbors aren’t! They’re not cool, like at all.”

“Have you even talked to them yet?”   

You pursed your lips. No, you hadn’t. You knew that he knew that, but you weren’t about to admit it. “It doesn’t matter!” you whined, “I wanna move out.”

“You can’t. You signed a lease.”

“You suck.”

“You’re so loving, really. I’ve never met someone as kind as you.” You pouted, sitting on the wood floor. He messed up your hair and sat down next to you. “I know how nervous it makes you, okay? I promise I’ll come by more.” He grabbed your hand, staring at the wrapped fingers. “I just miss you, Minho. Are you coming with me to orientation?” He pulled out bear covered band-aids from his pocket and delicately took off the dirty band-aid from your pointer finger. “I promised you I would, nerd. What did I tell you about pacing yourself? Did you try playing twenty-four caprices again?”

You looked away, choosing to look at the group of dancers stretching and conversing amongst themselves. You felt a fist hit the top of your head, and you whipped your head to look at the assaulter. “Moron,” he murmured, as he finished wrapping the last finger, “I’ll yell at you about it later. I have to get back to class.”

“I’m sorry for keeping you, I’ll make a really good dinner tonight.”

“And Ice Cream.”

“Fine. But only because I owe you.”

You swayed your arms as you walked, thinking about nothing in particular. It was nice out, the air breezy as summer transitioned into fall. As nervous as it made you, the thought of starting at a new school was sort of refreshing. You could sharpen your skills and make new friends, you were determined to have a good freshman year. It was past noon now, the sun leaving a warmth on your face as it shone. You decided to take the long route and go through the park walkway, you had time to kill after all. You crouched down in front of a squirrel, trying to coax it into coming near you with an acorn you had found nearby. You would’ve succeeded in it too, if not for the blaring music that came from somewhere deep in the park. Frightened, the squirrel had run off and climbed the tree in closest proximity. You resigned, placing your arms on your knees, and stayed in that crouched position for a few moments. Curious about the music that had scared your almost friend away, you followed the sound of the music until it got louder. People were beginning to crowd around a small stage. It looked like you had missed the intro, but you caught a glimpse of a poster with the group name on it: 3racha. The music made your heart pound against your chest, and people were yelling along with the lyrics of the rap.

The beat sounded almost familiar, but you couldn’t place your finger on it. On the stage, there were three boys. Men? They looked quite young. There was a scary looking guy to the left, dark hair and rapping quickly. How did he breathe, did he even have lungs? To the right there was another boy, rapping just as aggressively and having the audience rap along key parts with him. In the center was a curly haired boy. Almost to an embarrassing degree, you were captivated by him. You didn’t know what it was about him, maybe just something about his aura, his presence. Whatever it was, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. For a moment then, you thought he had made eye contact with you from the crowd and smiled. This would’ve sent chills down your spine if you hadn’t suddenly remembered what you had left your apartment to do. You made a silent ‘o’ shape with your mouth and stuck your finger in the air, waving it as you mentally scolded yourself for getting distracted. You struggled your way through the crowd and eventually made your way to the convenience store.

It was already the afternoon, the light of the sun dimming and the sky becoming deeper in color. Losing track of time was very clearly something you were very good at. On the bright side, you had stolen a lot of the park’s flowers and now had enough to put in a vase in your apartment. Was it the noblest thing you’d done? No. Did you regret it? Also no. You put the flowers delicately in your shopping basket and looked for the cute bandaids you had bought a week ago.

“Do you need help with anything?”

The voice interrupted your train of thought and made you jump, dropping the small box of band-aids. You recongized him, he was the same guy who had checked out your band-aids previously. “Those aren’t very effective at stopping blood and healing the cut.”

“Oh, that’s alright. I like them ‘cause they’re cute.”

“I noticed. Actually, we got a new stock of them. I haven’t put them on the shelves, but I could get one for you if you want?”

You smiled, and took a peek at his nametag. “That’d be super cool, Seungmin!”

 He motioned for you to follow him after he made sure that there was no one else currently in the store. “You come here a lot for band-aids, you know that? Are you a superhero or something?”

“Oh, nothing that cool. I was playing a hard piece on the violin.”

“You go to the Performing Arts University then?”

“Hopefully! I haven’t received the call yet.”

“Well, you beat the shit out of your fingers, so they should.”

 He handed you the box with the indeed, new design much cuter than the last. “Do you got ther too?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Oh, that’s so cool! What do you play?”

“Piano, and I sing. Still surprised I got in, fair warning: take care of your fingers, they’re gonna go through hell.” He looked down at your fingers again, “Again.”

Your phone began to ring, and you fumbled to answer. “It’s the school!” Seungmin paused as he checked out your ice cream to yell at you to answer the phone, “Put it on speaker.”

“_____?”

“Yes, that’s you- I mean me! That’s me.”

“We judged your performance earlier, just as we said, your performance of twenty-four caprices was extraordinary. Congratulations, you’re in!”

“Thank you! Thanks so much.”

“See you soon.”

Seungmin smiled at you, finishing checking out your items and gave you a smile. “I’ll see you around. Let’s play together some time.” He gave you his number and off you went, doing a happy little dance as you walked back to your apartment.

You prepared dinner just as you promised, and admittedly, went a little overboard. Just as you finished setting the table, the bell rang and you let the boys up.

 “___!” the two boys squished you between their bodies, almost suffocating you.

“I can’t believe we missed you,” Hyunjin complained, “I haven’t seen you in like, months!”

“He saw you five days ago.”

“Which is basically years!”

Minho scoffed, sitting on the counter as he watched the two boys shower you in attention. “You guys are only kissing ass ‘cause ____ cooked.”

You wrapped your arms over the boys’ shoulder and stuck your tongue out at Minho. “You’re just jealous ‘cause they like me more than you.”

“They do not!”

“Yeah, we do.”

 It was a lively scene. The dancers arguing about which transition would be best in their new choreography and you sat listening idly to their conversation. You didn’t mind just listening, it was entertaining to watch them loudly argue about things. The conversation, unbeknownst to you, had turned to the subject of your life.

“So, ____?”

“Huh?”

You turned to look at Felix, who was looking at you expectantly. Minho hit your head again, “He asked you how the audition went.” You glared at Minho, rubbing your head to soothe the pain. “It went good, I think. They liked it.”

“They better have,” Minho said darkly, “I’ll fight them if they don’t accept you. Look at your fingers!”

“Well, you don’t have to. I got in.”

They all started yelling congratulations at you, squeezing you in their arms and telling you how proud they were. They sat back down in their seats, and the air of congratulations quickly dissipated.  All the gazes at the table fell upon your hand, which was mid-air and feeding a spoonful of pasta into your mouth. You cleared your throat awkwardly, waiting for the coming assault of words

“You said you were going to take care of yourself! We wouldn’t have let you move out if-!” Hyunjin cut himself off, slouching in his chair and pouting to himself. “I guess we’re just gonna have to stay here, huh? Keep a watch over you.”

“Like hell, you will, Felix.” Minho shot a look over to the Aussie boy, who only gave him a playful smile. “I’m okay, I’m an adult now. I can take care of myself. You guys can’t even cook.”

“You have rilakkuma on your band-aid.”

“I’m an adult who likes cute things!”

Minho clicked his tongue and shook his head, “You’re like a baby deer- a fawn? Trying to walk on wood.”

“I am not!”

“You are.”

 They left after watching another superhero movie, warning you to take care of yourself or else subject yourself to their wrath. Then the first day came along.

Minho held your hand as he led you to your first class. You hadn’t asked him too, he just kinda grabbed your hand. He squeezed it tight once and then flicked your forehead. You groaned and pouted, rubbing your poor forehead. “You’ll be alright?”

“Of course, I’m not a little kid.”

“You sure act like one.”

You opened your mouth to complain but snapped it shut, turning on your heels to walk into the lecture hall. He pulled you by your collar back and you glared at him as he looked back at you. “I didn’t dismiss you.”

“You suck, Minho. Let me go!”

“You didn’t hug goodbye. Can’t let you go ‘til you give me a hug.”

You gave him a tight, but short squeeze and tried to let go but Minho kept you tight in his embrace, “Minho, let go,” you whined, trying to wiggle out, “You’re embarrassing me, you old man!”

“Just for that, I’m gonna stay like this until it’s time for you to actually go in.”

“Ugh, Minho, you’re crushing me!”

“Alright,” he let go, pinching tour cheeks hard, “Don’t give your phone number to any guys- they’re all trash. And make sure to talk to your teacher after the lecture if you have any questions. If anyone’s mean to you, I’ll deal them. I’m only a call away if you feel panicky, and I’ll be here when class ends, okay?”

“Let go,” you whined, swatting his hands, “I got it. Love you, Minho.”

“I love you,” he corrected.

You rolled your eyes, “I love you, Minho. I’ll see you later, bye!”

“Have fun, kid.”

You stepped inside the lecture hall, looking at all the empty seats. Immediately, you were overwhelmed by the sheer number of them, thinking about how many people would be there. Thankfully, there was someone you recognized. The boy from the audition was in the first row, and you quickly made your way to the seat beside him.

“Hey, you’re the violin player! How are your fingers?”

“They’re alright! And look at you, I bet your trot is amazing!”

 Your conversation was cut short as the professor came in, and orientation started without skipping another beat. All you did was go over the syllabus, and then the professor let his assistant take over. Woojin, the assistant, explained the Welcoming Showcase, an event optional for freshmen, but mandatory for every year after. Essentially, it was just that- a showcase of talents. This sparked an excited discussion and nervous questions to which Woojin was fully prepared to answer. You turned to Jeongin, “Do you wanna work together?”

“Hell yeah, we’re a power duo.”

You and Jeongin exchanged numbers as the rest of the class packed up and set up a time to meet up and go over what you wanted to do. Minho was outside just like he said he would be, and he listened to you ramble about the showcase and all the ideas you had. Hyunjin and Felix met both of you at a local diner and argued over fries over which superhero was the most powerful.

Once you got home, you texted Jeongin asking if he minded if you asked someone else to join. Seungmin joined both of you in the music room, and all of you went over everyone’s ideas for the performance. Together, the three of you created music you were very proud of. You got frustrated frequently, messing up certain parts. Even though everyone had their bad days, you could depend on each other.

As the Welcoming Showcase grew closer and closer, you started to panic. There was nothing wrong, per say, but you couldn’t help but feel there was something missing in the song. It was great, wonderful even- a collaboration piece that was sure to wow everyone. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Your alarm went off and you frowned. You didn’t want to go, you had this awful feeling that came from the pit of your something. You were sure that something was going to go wrong. Unfortunately for you, Minho existed. And this meant you couldn’t back out of anything. You felt a wave of dread when you heard him come in. He pulled at your ankles, yelling at you to get up.

“You have to go.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“You promised you would.”

“I’m a liar.”

“I will not hesitate to carry you there. It’s going to be fun. Also, need I remind you, you promised all of us you would go?”

“Can you carry me anyways?”

He crossed his arms, nodding. “I’m waiting for you in the living room. I’ll bring you there naked if you’re not out in five minutes.”

“Gross.”

“It’s your choice.”

Just as he promised, he compromised and carried you to the car, but that didn’t mean he did it nicely. He took the stairs instead of the elevator, which meant your face was helplessly flopping against his back.

“Put me down, Minho!”

“I’m just doing what you asked me to.”

“I hate you.”

 You were sweating like it was the peak of summer, was it really in fact that hot? No, but your body thought otherwise. Backstage was full of all sorts of performers, some dancing, others hosting last minute rehearsals. The classical players were going first, which meant that you and Jeongin would be starting off the crowd. As you continued to observe everyone else, specifically how lively all of their pieces seemed to be.

You watched Minho and his friends do last minute corrections to their dance. The growing feeling that your piece just wouldn’t cut it wouldn’t leave. You furrowed your eyebrows, mentally going through a list of things you could do to turn this around. You moved towards your group members, determined with your new found plan.

“Jeongin.”

“Do you think you can change your tempo for the song?”

“I mean sure, but-”

“I’ll be right back!”

You yourself weren’t even sure how you were going to pull this off. You wanted to go to the bathroom to calm down, but in your rush, you crashed into someone.

“I’m so sorry!”

The papers scattered all over the floor, and you scrambled to pick them all up. “I’m so sorry,” you repeated, “My mind’s just going a million miles an hour and-! Are you okay?” You finally looked up, nervous to see a fuming performer about to go off at you. But instead, your eyes fell upon the center boy from the park.

“Hey, didn’t you-?”

“Perform in the park? Yes, I did.”

“You saw me?”

“Yeah, I did. I also saw you leave after making eye contact with me.”

You stood up quickly, face hot and flush. “It’s not like that! Your music was cool, I just forgot that I had something I needed to do.” He smiled at you, with dimples and all and laughed. “It’s alright, I just wondered if I’d ever see you again, and why you left.”

“Ah,” you held up your hand, “Band-aids.”

“_____!”

You turned around, Seungmin quickly walking towards you. “That’s me. I should get going.” You started to walk off when the mystery boy called your name. “My papers. And I’m Chan by the way.

“Oh! Sorry,” you added, “Chan.”

“I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

 “Yeah!”

You ran off, meeting a not-so-pleased Seungmin. “Are you sure you can pull this off?”

“I’m confident.”

He flicked your forehead, “If anyone else pulled this stunt, I would’ve fought them. But you owe me, got it?”

“I love you, Minnie!”

“Shut the hell your mouth, we’re up in two.”

Jeongin pulled the collar of his shirt and played with his hair while Seungmin tapped his fingers against his leg as if he were playing the piano.

“I’ll start off. Just follow my lead, okay?”

You walked onto the stage, an awaiting crowd looking to devour you. You turned and faced the eager college students watching you with intent eyes. Seungmin pushed in the chair to his piano and Jeongin stood by your side. You rested your cheek against the pad and breathed.

The music that vibrated off the strings was different than the one that had played during rehearsals. It was much more the likeness of a rap beat that the original classical piece. Fingers played the string fast, changing their positions faster than the naked eye could keep up with. The piano joined in soon, chasing the tail of the violin’s notes, keeping up with it well. The voice intercepted soon after, loud and melodic- seemingly rehearsed, perfected. The audience began to clap along with the rhythm, pleased with the nature of the song. The skin of fingers began to split again, blood coating the unforgiving strings. The bow moved rapidly, horse hairs becoming loose again, unable to handle the hardship of the playing.

The keys of the piano seamlessly changed the key of the song, pronouncing its place in the song. The violin joined, notes intertwining to create an otherworldly, ethereal sound- the voice only accentuating those traits. Together, the trio worked to excite and provide a memorable start to the music festival. The singer held the high note for a while, the violin dragging out the last note while the keys on the piano held its breath for a few moments.

The music came back down harder as if had been holding back, impatient for the song to come to its climax. The bow was nearly destroyed at this point, horse hairs strung all over the place. Cheek firmly planted in the hot, sticking leather, hearts beating so fast it was almost as if they hadn’t been beating at all. The joints of the piano player were beginning to hurt, the outstretching and upbeat tune proving difficult, but not too much- just enough of a challenge. It’s true when they say music is a language in itself, the trio clearly fluent in it. No words were spoken, no queues, only an instinct that had no roots to trace back to.

The audience could sense it, feel the music in their bones, coursing through their blood. The sun was warm, a golden light illuminating the trio in a warm light. The sleek black piano was brightened, brought out from obscurity and into the limelight. The shape of the piano traced by the glow, it’s own player with his bangs wet, glued to his face. It was a wonder really, how any of them did it, how they pulled it off without even a thought of making a mistake.

You could breathe finally, relax even if just for a moment. The applause was comforting, even if the grade you received was less than pleasant, at least you had a memory that made it worth it.

You spoke to Jeongin and Seungmin and then suddenly remembered your quest to find a bathroom.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t get lost, ___.”

“I won’t!”

You did.

It turns out since the amphitheater was outside, the only bathrooms were in the campus buildings. And campus, although in walking distance, was not particularly close. Unfortunately for you, it was also nowhere near the buildings you were familiar with. But easy enough, you could just enter any building and search around until you found a bathroom right? Wrong. You were on the complete opposite of the campus, and actually where the dormitory buildings were. The stares you received for looking utterly lost and peeking in the glass doors were well deserved. It took the kindness of a senior student to grace you with the knowledge of accurate directions. It would’ve been convenient if you had a map, or if your phone had battery. But you were not that lucky.

But, against all odds, you made it back the amphitheater. Two and a half hours later and no, you don’t know how you took so long. All you knew was that none of your friends were around.

“You’re still here?”

You turned to face the voice, desperate for a familiar voice and on the brink of tears. “Chan?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” he laughed, “Do you need a ride or something?”

“You’re my knight in shining armor, Chan. I got a ride with Minho, but he left. I got lost looking for the bathroom.”

“I get it. It took me a while to be able to navigate the campus. The maps are confusing.”

“Right? Or maybe I’m just hopeless, but still!”

“You and me both. You ready to go?”

You nodded, making small talk with the boy as he led you to his car. You offered to help him carry some of the equipment he was carrying, but he refused, claiming that it would help him buff his arms.

You couldn’t for the life of you understand why he would need to buff his arms anymore, but hey, you weren’t complaining- it was a sight to see, the eighth wonder of the world.

You gave him vague directions, mostly pointing which way to go. Minho usually offered to take you to campus, and you took the bus everywhere else. So, in your defense, you never really needed to give directions.

 “Oh, I go this way too! Guess we live pretty close.”

 Finally, the both of you realized that you could just type in your address in the GPS on his phone. But Chan grew more and more quiet as he neared your apartment complex. “Uh, you live here?”

“Yeah,” you chirped, “I moved here a couple of months ago for school. Well, a bit before that too.”

“I live in this complex too, do you mind if I park in my usual space.”

“Not at all, go ahead.”

You almost forget Chan was along your side but quickly reminded as you entered the same elevator and went to click the same floor. “You said you play the violin, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah!” you pointed at your case, “Sure do.”

“Can you keep it down next time?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you connected the dots and you gasped, “You’re the one overdoing the bass!”

“Only after you kept playing that awful piece.”

“Twenty four caprices is not awful! It’s hard! That’s how I got into the school, and it basically murdered my fingers you butt!”

“Butt? How old are you?”

“Old enough to know you’re a butt!”

“You didn’t have to practice here though, especially if you’re going to keep replaying the same piece. Did you even hear us banging on your wall? No, ‘cause your awful playing was basically bass boosted!”

The elevator door opened and you stormed out, and it would’ve been amazing and dramatic too if you hadn’t dropped your keys.

“Look like you dropped something.”

“Shut up!”

He chuckled to himself before opening the door smoothly and disappearing behind it. You closed your door- loudly- and then you heard that rotten bass start over again.

“So, that’s what you were complaining about, huh?”

You turned to the figure who spoke, and even though you couldn’t make out was he was saying, you could tell he wasn’t too pleased. Minho and the boys were sitting on the couch, watching an action movie. You plopped yourself in the middle of them, sulking and sinking into the couch.

“My phone died, Minho.”

His fist hit your head, “I always tell you to bring a charger, but you never listen.”

“What?”

“I said, I always tell you-”

“I’m sorry, Minho. I’ll set a reminder on my phone next time.”

He sighed. Pausing the movie, he banged on the wall several times. “Has no one else complained about the music?” He got off the couch and tapped his foot a few times before impatiently striding for the door.

“Minho, don’t!”

“Why not?”

He looked down at you, waiting for a genuinely good reason as to why he couldn’t snap at your spiteful neighbor. “Oh, um, ‘cause it’s mean?” “You’re the same person who calls me ‘mean-ho’, lest I remind you.”

“We have the moral high ground here! No threatening has to be done! We could file a noise complaint, and karma will get to him eventually.”

“You can have the moral high ground. He’s gonna wish it was just karma that got to him.”

He let go of your hold on his wrist and stepped out your apartment door. “Well,” Felix yelled, “I want to see how this go down.” He sprung off the couch and Hyunjin followed, curious and amused. “I want to see how bad Minho is gonna crush his spirit.”

Like the three stooges, your heads stacked on top of one another as you watched Minho angrily knock the door. When no one came to answer, Minho started kicking the door leaving you wondering if the door would break. Finally, someone came to the door. It was the dark-haired boy, who you had thought was scary. He had swung the door open and came face to face with a very, very peeved off Minho.

“Turn down the fucking music. I’ve had enough.”

“Will do, sorry about-”

“Changbin, who’s at the door?”

Changbin looked at Minho and back at presumably Chan, who had now joined Minho and Changbin at the door. “Sorry, do you need something?”

Minho scoffed, “Shut down the music, Bang Chan.”

“You are aware this is a designated apartment complex for musicians, right?”

“Doesn’t mean rules and basic courtesy don’t apply, asshole. Turn down the music or I’m calling the landlord, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation.”

“Chill, man. I’ll turn it down. Do you even live here?”

“I live downstairs.”

“What’s your apartment number?”

“Oh, dear Chan, do you plan on paying me a midnight visit?”

“Fuck off, dude,” he laughed, “Alright man, I’m sorry about the noise. I’m in the middle of something.”

“Just keep it down.”

You watched as he shut the door and listened to how the music significantly quieted. The three of you stumbled as Minho opened the door and gave a heavy sigh. “Dumb, dumber, and dumbest,” he shook his head as he pointed at all three of you. Then, he smirked, a proud look on his face as he crossed his arms. “You’re welcome, by the way. One day you’re gonna have to learn how to confront people yourself, you know.”

You sat on the couch with him, resting your head on his lap and poking his cheeks, “Why should I when I have you?” Felix lifted your legs and sat with them on top of his thighs and Hyunjin grabbed you a blanket. “You’re spoiled rotten, you know that?” Minho complained, “Absolutely spoiled. I don’t know why I deal with you.”

You cupped your face and blinked, “It’s my charm.”

“Ugh,” he groaned, flicking your forehead, “So gross.”

 You found yourself on your bed the next morning and you were hit with a sudden pang of guilt. Maybe he was just joking, but you were worried that he’d get sick of you- and so would all the other boys. Your window curtains closed but the sunlight still illuminated the room through the holes in the lace. You brought your knees up to your chest and rested your head upon them. Your fingers played with the white sheets that swamped your legs. You closed your eyes, just feeling the warmth of the sun on your face. It was odd to have that this time of year. Even though it must be cold, a shining sun- one not obscured by upset, gray clouds.

You stretched out your legs and wiggled your toes, flopping back down on the bed. You laid in the starfish position for a few minutes, contemplating the ethics of living a life outside of your bedroom. Coming to the conclusion, that you could not, indeed, do everything from the comfort of your bed you hauled yourself off of it.

 It would’ve made for a peaceful morning too, if not for that darned baseline. It had caught you in the middle of pouring juice in a cup, spilling it all over the floor- and most importantly, your feet. One of these days, you promised yourself, one of these days you were going to give him a piece of your mind. In the meantime, though, you were going to stop by Minho’s dance studio and thank him and the boys for just being generally great human beings. More specifically, you wanted to show Minho the ridiculous banners you had made to wave at his next performance. The music was still blaring as you stepped onto the elevator. And you glared at Chan’s apartment door before the closing doors pulled you down to the ground floor.

Figuring Minho would be in the middle of class, you decided to take the long way again and pop into the park. There was nothing much to see, really, the trees sad and bare and the grass turning brown. The good thing about it was the leaves, specifically the crunch and exhilaration you felt as you stepped on the crispy leaves. You jumped around like a wandering child, making a game out of jumping and crushing the poor leaves. Despite the shining sun, the sky began to look dark and the sun grew timid. There was a harsh wind out, cold and mercilessly slapping your bare face. You spent some time trying to coax a cat to come let you pet it, and when it did you probably made it wish you hadn’t. You scooped it up and placed it in your lap, spoiling it with careful and gentle touches. It purred, much to your surprise and leaned into your touch and nudged your hand with its head. You would’ve completely forgotten what you set out to do if the cat hadn’t started pawing at the banner you intended on showing Minho.

“I have to go, Milky. Can I call you that?”

The milk tea fur colored cat purred in response. “I’ll see you around milky, okay?” You picked him up and placed him on the ground, expecting that he would saunter off and find another willing passerby to give him the pets he seemingly deserved. Instead of that, he followed you, keeping up with your pace as you tried to find the original path out of the park. You turned around multiple times, scolding the stubborn cat to not befriend complete strangers. Idiot cat that he was, all he did was meow loudly in response, pawing at your leg and begging to be picked up. You were no monster, though. You obliged, carrying the cat and scratching his head.

“Minho…”

“What did you do?”

“Is your class gone?”

“Yeah, you know what time I teach. We’re just messing around.”

“Before you yell at me,” you held up Milky, his body dangling and he gave an inglorious meow, “meet my friend Milky!”

Minho closed his eyes and held the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “So this is why you weren’t answering my calls?”

“Huh? Oh, my phone must be on silent.” You put Milky down and searched through your bag for your phone. You looked up at Minho and gave him a sheepish smile. “You’re kidding. You’re kidding, right?” he flicked your head, “I even put it to charge when I left.”

You waved him off and waved a plastic bag in his face. “I got you ice cream and look,” you pulled out the obnoxious banner, “I ordered it for your performance at the dance festival! Isn’t it neat? I’m your own cheerleader.”

He picked up Milky, who gave him a stern look but resigned into his embrace as he took the ice cream. “It’s ridiculous.”

“I know! Isn’t it amazing? I’m pretty much your number one fan.”

“Several people would disagree with you.”

“Who else is getting your face on a banner and is ready to wave it around?” You frowned and let the banner drop. “Do you really not like it?”

“I’m just teasing,” he flicked your forehead again, “Maybe some of my admirers can compete to one-up you. I’d like to see it.”

“Oh, okay. Well, I just wanted to thank you for dealing with chan and because so cool and amazing and awesome and-”

“I’m your friend, dumba-”

You covered milky’s ears, “Don’t curse in front of him!”

“He’s a cat.”

“And a baby!”

“He’s fat, look at him.”

“No!”

“Look at how smug he is. I love it. He and I are one.”

“He’s leagues better than you.”

Minho swayed Milky, his legs and tails dangled miserably. “He’s a bastard and I adore him. He is my bastard son. I love him.”

“Minho, no!”

Milky meowed indignantly, “My inglorious bastard, a beautiful testimony to my tribulations.”

“God, you’re so weird, Minho!”

 He laughed at you, and sat down on the floor, scratching Milky’s chin. You scooted near him and rested your head on his shoulder. “How do you even know Chan?”

“We had a collaboration for an assignment. He’s cool.”

“You’re friends?”

“Guess you could say that.”

You didn’t ask any more questions, figuring you had all the information you needed. You talked about nothing in particular, just enjoying each other’s presence for the most part. He took the liberty to show you what he had planned on performing for the dance showcase, and you never failed to be impressed. You held up his banner, yelling out his name obnoxiously to the beat of the music. Even Milky seemed content, watching as Minho danced. Hyunjin and Felix taught you some of the moves, while Minho stood by offering commentary in his own voice, and a made up one for Milky.

The showcase came and went, and school continued without anything noteworthy really happening. Your finals came and went, at the expense of your fingertips, but they went all the same.

 You heard a knock at your door and grimaced, you were in no position to be looked upon by the outside world. Destressing after finals meant letting go, and letting go meant letting go completely. It was no use pretending you weren’t home either, the music could probably be heard by anyone who passed by. It wasn’t your fault that you and Milky were the best dancers out here, okay? You both needed a place to practice, and no one deserved to be graced by your impromptu dancing. In your time wondering if you could just pretend that you had not, in fact, heard the knock, the assailant knocked more urgently.

“I know you’re in there, ___.”

You crossed your arm and gave Milky a look. Blissfully ignorant, he looked back up at you with a woefully blank meow. You opened the door with your most neutral look. “My music isn’t loud.”

“Debatable. Anyway, I’m here because my cat hasn’t been around for a few days and I wanted to ask you if you could keep a look out for him.”

“Oh. Okay. What does he look like?”

“He’s white and-.”

 As if on cue, Milky sauntered over to the door, curling his tail around your ankle. “And that’s my cat.”

“No, Milky is a stray.”

“His name is Tom and-.”

“Tom?”

“Milky isn’t any better!”

“It’s way better.”

“Give me my cat back.”

“Have you asked Milky what he wants?”

Chan snorted, crossing his arms. “Fine. We’ll both call him from either side and whoever he walks to is his rightful owner, fair?”

“Yes,” you clapped, “More than fair.”

Really, you should have expected this outcome. You had placed Milky- er, Tom? In the middle of the hallway, you and Chan at the opposite ends, calling him to walk over to either side. The thing was, he circled around himself and laid down on the spot. After a few minutes of trying to coax him, both of you realized there was no use.

“I guess we should co-parent then. I promise I’ll do good by both of you.”

“He’s my cat, ____.”

“Well, he chose both of us so, now he’s our cat. You’ll get him tomorrow, goodbye!”

“What- wait!”

You closed your apartment door before he could protest to anything.

 Both you and Chan worked around each other’s schedule, trying to take care of the cat the best you could. It was kept mostly professional, swapping the cat every other day. College had been kicking your ass, but at the very least you had your cat to keep insanity at bay.

 An urgent knock came at your door, and you knew it could only be one person. “Milky’s sick. He hasn’t been eating, so I’m going to bring him to the vet. Do you want to come?”

“Oh! He’s not sick. One second.”

You went into his apartment, waving at his roommates who were arguing with each other over a video game you didn’t recognize. Milky was poised on the arm of the couch, front row seats, reveling at the reality show unfolding itself in front of him. You scooped him up and placed him in front of his bowl. He sat patiently, waiting as you kneeled across him and tuned your violin.

“What are you doing?”

“Tuning my violin.”

“I can see that, but why?”

“No one likes to be lonely, why should that be any different for animals? Love exists within all living things and beyond. Plus, I found out he really likes violin.”

You started to play a soft tune for the cat, who obliged to eating his meal. You had realized it about a week ago when Milky came around for his meal whenever you practicing on the violin. Furthermore, he only seemed to eat when you were- or at the very least, within his company. It made sense to you, after all, weren’t meals more special when you shared them with somebody else? You finished the last piece of the song as Milky’s ears twitched and he stretched his body to lay down on the nearby bed.

“You’re not wearing any band-aids.”

“Oh, yeah. I imagine it’s not very pleasant to have someone’s band-aid littered hand pet you. Plus, healed fingers make for a better playing experience.” you scratched the top of Milky’s head, “Isn’t that right, Milky? Don’t I give better pats now?”

You looked up at Chan and gave him a bright smile, then lifted yourself off your knees and straightened yourself up. “I guess I’ll get going now. Knock if you need anything.”

He stared at you for a few moments, a small smile peeking through.

“Is there something on my face?”

He blinked a couple of times and gave you a dimpled smile. “No, but you got it. I’ll knock if I need anything.”

The next couple of days went regularly, but most notably, no more baselines shook up your house. There was nothing notable that happened, except maybe that you finally beat Minho in mortal kombat. He contributed it to a fluke, but you knew better. You knew. And you would hold it over his head for an eternity.

You, Hyunjin, and Felix went out for boba during the week, and you, Jeongin, and Seungmin played around in the music room on campus every day before lectures started. College was stressful, but it was made bearable with the people around you. Even Chan had softened up a bit, coming over without an excuse and sticking around for lunch and dinner, and watched bad movies that you could make fun of. Milky seemed very pleased with the outcome, planting himself in the middle of you two and being spoiled with double the number of pets. You found yourself looking more and more forward to Chan’s company, listening for his knocks every time you were home.

After not seeing him for a few days, you grew worried. So, you knocked at his door. To your surprise, the door creaked open. Normally, you wouldn’t have stepped in, but you were worried about the boy. “Chan?”

You were met with an extremely tired looking boy. His eyes were bloodshot, the bags under his eyes full of rocks. “____,” he croaked, “How are you? Is it my day with Milky?”

“Chan,” your voice softened, “you should go to bed.”

“Can’t.” he laughed bitterly, “I got a deadline.”

 You moved between him and his laptop, your figure blocking his view. “____.”

“Chan.”

He placed his hands on your hips, “Move please, I have to finish this.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling it get hot at his gesture. “You can finish it later, you’re going to collapse.”

He resigned, leaning back into his chair and looked up at you. “Will you leave if I tell you I will.”

“No, ‘cause I don’t trust you. So we’re gonna sleep together.”

He choked, coughing and clearing his throat. “Are you serious?”

“Dead.”

You crawled onto his bed and patted the space beside you. “C’mon,” you urged, “You chicken?”

He snorted, laying down by your side. “How old are you, ____?”

“It got you into bed, didn’t it?”

“You got me there.”

Your bodies laid stiffly next to each other, the bed not quite big enough to hold the both of you in the position you were in. You turned to your side, facing him and found that he was fast asleep. His eyes were closed, his face soft and content. Granted, it was a little weird to be staring at him the way you were, but he looked so beautiful. His curly hair was sticking up everywhere, cheek squished against the pillow. Your eyes were growing heavy, and you fell asleep quickly.

You felt a hand around your shoulder, and your face was pressed against his chest. You could feel his heart beat gently against his chest, lulling you back to sleep. His fingers were tracing shapes on your arm. Realizing your position, you jolted up. To your surprise, Chan was fast asleep. You rubbed your eyes, embarrassed by your reaction at the dream. You were careful as you crawled around his body and off the bed. Luckily for you, neither of the boys were up and about, making for a clean break.

Things proceeded between the both of you as if nothing happened. You swore that each time you touched it seemed to linger, but you chalked it up to your longing imagination. You thought about the scene constantly, rambling about it to Milky who had no choice but to listen to your grievances. The days went on though, and so you decided that you had in fact dreamt about his touch.

You and Milky were having another impromptu dance party in the living room, (today was the best of the early 2000s), when a knock came out the door. It was different, softer and more hesitant. You were met with a slightly nervous Chan, who looked almost surprised when you open the door.

“Hey, is something wrong?”

“No.”

There was a bit of awkward silence and Chan scratched the back of his neck, looking up to avoid your gaze. “Um,” he coughed a bit, clearing his throat, “I was free today, and I was wondering if you wanted to go out.”

“Sure! I’ll be right out.”

“On a date,” he added quickly, “I mean on a date. A casual one. A walk in the park. Literally.”

 “Yeah, I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

“Seriously?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Chan relaxed and threw a thumbs up, “Cool, cool. Cool, cool, cool. I’ll see you in an hour.”

 It was not, in fact, cool.

You closed the door, and low, closed mouth scream came out. You were panicking, and a lot. Milky was no help either, he had no opinion to offer for any of your outfits. By the time you decided on what to wear, your bedroom looked like the aftermath of a retail store’s black friday. You were scrambling to find your shoes when the dreaded knock came at your door. You struggled to catch your breath as you opened the door, and you hoped for the life of you Chan couldn’t hear you fighting for your life.

It didn’t help that he looked so good either. Well, he looked good in anything, but still, this was an attack to your well being. The top buttons to his black shirt were unbuttoned, revealing his chain and a bit of his chest. How were you expected to make it to the elevator?

“You ready to go?”

No!

“Yep. All set.”

You made light conversation and Chan discussed his current projects- an album he was working on with his roommates. He never failed to impress you. It didn’t matter what he talked about, he always seemed so knowledgeable. The air was cool, the sun getting ready to set. You played nervously with your fingers, listening intently to what he was talking about.

The park was getting ready to bloom, all the snow had already been melted and the various colors of springs were getting ready to be in play. You started to relax more, and let go of your hands, leaving them dangling by your sides.

His hand brushed lightly against yours, fingers feathering against yours. He leaned into your cheek, lips softly against it, “Can I hold your hand?”

“Ah,” you jumped, shivering at the near touch and grew the space between the two of you, but stuck out your hand, “yes, please.”

“Are you gonna look at your date?”

“No,” you mumbled, using your free hand to rub the heat out of your cheeks, “I can’t.”

In a swift movement, he pulled you towards him. Encasing both your hands in his, he made you face him and brought his face close. You shut your eyes closed, unaware of what was going to happen. You felt him inhale, leaning closer to your face. He brought his thumb over your lip, going over it lightly. And then he started laughing.

Confused, you opened your eyes and gave him a puzzled look.

“I’m sorry,” he said between breaths, ‘I had to. It’s so easy to tease you.”

“You’re so mean,” you whined, “I thought you were-!”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused at your antics. “Thought I was going to what?”

You flailed your arms desperately and huffed, “I don’t-! I don’t know.” You started to walk off quickly, storming off. Then, you realized, that for many reasons this wasn’t helping your case. You turned around slowly, looking for Chan. He stood in the same place, hands in his pockets with a dimpled smile growing on his face. He caught up with you quickly, taking your hand more confidently. “I’ll buy you ice cream to make up for it, yeah?”

“Matcha green tea.”

“Okay, I’ll buy you matcha green tea ice cream.”

 You sat at a nearby bench as you waited for him to buy the peace-making gift. The scene played out in your head again and again. “Ah,” you murmured to yourself, “I shouldn’t be this flustered.” Your hands massaged your cheeks, unable to forget the gentle, flittering touch of his fingers.

He came out dancing, waving around the ice creams in the air. You wanted to hate him, you really did- for Milky’s sake. But he wasn’t so bad after all. Watching him dance like he was your uncle at family reunions while people stared at him was amusing. After his freestyle dad dance, he sat next to you on the bench, knee pressed against yours.

“Why did you ask me out on a date?”

“Because I like you. And,” he sighed, “I was being immature.”

 He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and lightly traced your shoulder. “Let me take you on a good honest date, please?” he smiled at you shyly, “It’s okay if you don’t want to, no hard feelings.”

 “No, I want to!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

“But, are you sure you’re sure?”

“Yes, I want to go on a date with you Chan!”

“Okay, but are you sure you’re sure that you’re sure?”

“Yes, Chan!”

“I’m sorry, you’re just too cute.”

  You huffed, letting go of his hand to open your ice cream and take a bite. “When you finish your ice cream, let’s go.”

“Now?”

“Yep.”

You looked at him, waiting for him to elaborate, but he didn’t offer any explanation. Instead, he offered you a cute smile and opened his ice cream. When you finished, he took your hand confidently and lead you back to the complex to get in his car.

A carnival.

The sky had become dark, speeding past the sunset, impatient for the moon to take place of the sun. A million and one lights were on and flashing, fighting for your attention. You didn’t even know there was a carnival in town. He held your hand tightly, paying for tickets and dragging you to all the rides.

By the time you got to the Ferris wheel, you and Chan were carrying an absurd amount of stuffed animals. For some reason, Chan was determined to get you as many stuffed animals as you and him could carry and then some. He took them back to the car, waddling off and promising to come back. You held your place in line, and he joined you soon after.

“Are you having fun?”

“I could have fun with you anywhere.”

He looked taken aback for a moment and took a bit for the phrase to digest. He let it sit in the air for a while, and in the meanwhile, the Ferris wheel turned slowly until both of you were on the very top. It overlooked the entire carnival, the people looking like ants instead of humans. You could see all the games you and Chan had played and observed all the rides you hadn’t got on.

“Thank you for coming with me.” He held your face with one hand, and you leaned into his touch. “Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” It was going to happen, you were so sure. He was going to kiss you. Finally, finally, kiss you and for real this time. He leaned in, and you shut your eyes, ready to let it happen. And then you felt him lean back.

“Oh, c’mon Chan!”

He smirked. “What? What’s wrong?”

“You know exactly what!”

“I don’t. Please enlighten me.”

“You were going to,” you gestured desperately, “you know!”

“No, I don’t.”

“Kiss me! You were going to kiss me.”

“You can kiss me.”

You shut your mouth, short-circuiting. You crossed your arms and thought over his words. It was all you could think about, even on the ride back home. Chan didn’t mind the silence, he was very clearly amused about the effect he had on you.

You arrived at your apartment door shortly after, and he grabbed both your hands. “Thank you for coming out with me, I had a really good time.”

It was now or never. You cupped his face like he had done with you and gave him a quick kiss and then ran into your apartment. Was it the most romantic? Maybe not, but you had done it.

“So, I’m guessing you had a good time too?”

“Yes!” you shouted from inside  your apartment, “Now go away!”

 Every date was better than the last, how that could be, you didn’t know. All you knew was that the butterflies in your stomach never rested, even after the second, eight, and sixteenth kiss. Minho teased you about it frequently over the mandatory phone calls after every date. He wasn’t too keen on you dating but figured that he could always beat up Chan if anything went wrong. And Minho’s threshold of things going wrong was very, very low.

“You mean it was raining and he didn’t pick you up?”

“He was a state away, Minho.”

“And he’ll stay there if he knows what’s good for him.”

Minho came over more frequently, claiming that it was because he liked his cat more than you- and of course, to bring over his newly adopted cats for play dates. Not that you minded, of course, both of you had been so busy and it was nice to spend time together. Not to mention, a newfound love for people watching dictated most of the time you spent together. You would head over to cafes and observe people, trying to figure out their stories and what was going on with them. It was one of those days when Chan knocked urgently on your door. You and Minho were on your balcony, watching the people below and arguing whether they were arguing with a parent or significant other.

Minho was the one to open the door, meaning he had pushed you on the couch so he could get there first.

“State your business, peasant.”

“Good to see you, Minho. Can I borrow ____ for a while?”

“Nah.”

You stood by the door and failed to nudge Minho away. “Hey, Chan.”

“Babe, I need you and your violin for something. It’s important.”

“We’re in the middle of something very important. Actually- come in Chan. Settle it for us.”

 Chan shot you a look and you shrugged. He sighed and stepped in. The three of you leaned over the balcony, listening into the conversation.

“Who do you think they’re talking to?”

Chan leaned back over the balcony, trying to listen to their conversation for any eye-opening clues. “Mom. Definitely their mom.”

Minho turned to you, smirking. “You may leave now, let me relish in my superior detective skills.” You shook your head, but left anyway, grabbing your violin.

“Let me know how their argument ends!”

“You don’t deserve to be graced with that knowledge.”

You sighed, shaking your head as you closed the door behind you. “So, what did you need me for?”

“I’m working on this track,” he explained, “But there’s something missing. I think it’s you playing.” Your heart skipped a beat. Chan had never asked you to help out with his music before, you could feel yourself smile so big it hurt your cheeks. He led you into his room, a makeshift recording studio. He played the track for you, and you understood what he was talking about. It wasn’t bad, necessarily, but it sounded only half full in a sense. Like it was waiting for the last piece for it to be complete. You stood behind the microphone, replaying the track in your head.

“Whenever you’re ready, okay? No pressure. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

You closed your eyes and shook your head. You started to play, not knowing where it was going to end or even what your next note would be. There was no hesitation or pause in the way you played, even if your head didn’t know what to do, your fingers did. It was different than what you were used to playing, reminiscent of your improvisation back at the Welcoming Showcase. You don’t know where it came from, but you were grateful for it- even if you weren’t sure exactly what it was.

You dropped your bow, opening your eyes and looked at Chan inquisitively. He nodded, his eyes heavy on you. “That’s it. That’s exactly it. ____, you’re a genius. Do you think you could do that at the Farewell Showcase?”

The Farewell Showcase was the end of year performance, and just like the Welcoming Showcase, all of the art departments showed off the culmination of their lessons. Both technical and creative skill were displayed for everyone to see. Even with the weeks you had practiced in advance, fingers once again becoming the expense for the bill of your playing, you were nervous.

“I don’t know about this, Chan.”

“Hey, babe,” he cupped your face, “It’s gonna be brilliant, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you cupped his face, “ ‘cause you’re brilliant.”

 He snorted, squishing your cheeks and planting a kiss on your lips.  “So, corny.”

“Really? I thought it was pretty good.”

Jisung came over and clapped your hands, “You’re up.”

Chan held your hand and gave it a tight squeeze. You expected him to let go before the both of you stepped on stage, but he held it well onto the stage. You stood at the opposite side of Chan and he smiled at you before you adjusted your face onto the leather pad.

 The stage was different, the audience more eager. Intentful, perceiving, waiting for something that was worth their time. A pin could’ve been dropped, and it’s clattering would be heard for miles on end. There were no fluorescent light to blind, but instead an indifferent sun. The stage was not wood, it did not creak under steps, not the kind of floor feet could sink into. This stage was different, undoubtedly. The first note was low, almost growling at the crowd. It was dragged out, long, tensing the air. Everyone in the audience collectively held their breath, expectant. And then it started, before anyone could exhale. The playing was a lot more than practice, and the product of nothing but emotion. Feral. That’s the best way to describe the music that echoed. Just like the stage, it was different, unaccustomed. It was made to defy, not exceed expectations. Even the player was elsewhere, something else. Not here, or there- instead, in a little world far off from what anybody knows. Memory was not at all what motivated fingers to manipulate the strings the way they do. It was exhilaration, euphoria.

On the other side of the stage, words became something more. More depth than definition. For a moment, maybe even minutes- everyone, even the ones on the stage- could relate. Find common ground. It became a dance, the way they moved around each other on the stage. It was no longer a performance, it had become something much more intimate. It was a confession.

A smile was exchanged, a knowing look. Telepathy, but not quite. The boy had become almost erratic, the onlookers on the tips of their toes, awaiting the next word, the next verse with an insatiable hunger. But they knew not to bite the hand that feeds them. The air was electric, all but lightning being spewed out of his mouth and speaking from the fingers of the violin player.

The ending was only a start, the moment the bow dropped, the second the voice quieted- it was ignition for the applause that roared.

You were panting, a huge smile displayed on your face. It was rewarding in a way that you’ve never felt before. Hearing hundreds of people clapping for a performance that you didn’t know you could give.

“Before we leave the stage, I just wanted to say one thing,” Chan took a deep breath and turned to you, a dimpled smile shining on his face, “____. I am deeply, disgustingly, one hundred percent drowning in love for you.”

Your face immediately flushed, hands running to cover your flustered face but Chan caught them. He cupped your face again, rubbing your cheeks softly with his thumbs. “You don’t have to say anything right now, but can I kiss you?”

“I guess I love you too,” you smiled sheepishly, “And yes, always.”

Chan’s boxes were in your living room, still untouched even days after he claimed he had moved in. Instead of unpacking, he was here, assaulting your face with kisses, squishing you with his body on the couch. You had received a callback from the city symphony, congratulating you for your new position as first chair. Chan found that rewarding you with kisses was much more important than unpacking his belongings.“It’s not a big deal, Chan. Get off!”

“It is,” he said between kisses, “It is very much a big deal. My baby has first chair.”

“Yes,” you kissed him back, “And you’re going on a world tour!”

You were glad he was the b— in apartment twenty-three.

[iridescentseawitch]

CH. 25 Here To Stay

Chapter 25 of my MysMe Fic - Star Crossed Entertainers This chapter has a lovely piece of art done by the magnificent @irageneveart and I cannot thank her enough! This fic is also on AO3 under the username: MonotoneManday. Enjoy!

"Hey! It doesn't look half bad!"

Samantha glared at Seven. He put his hands up in surrender and Vanderwood nudged him with a hard elbow.

"Really, it's not half bad."

"Give me more credit. You both just put me in a situation where we had to blowtorch half of my hair off and I cut it myself to get this result." Samantha held up a mirror and swayed her hair side to side. "It looks damn good."

"Well that means more easy to forgive!"

"We don't have anything to be sorry for, moron! She offered to come on the mission!"

"Ms. Mary, hush! I invited her!" 

"Alright, alright!" Samantha shouldered her way in between the two men, trying to push them at least arms length away from each other. "Seven's right. I'm not mad. I mean, this blows, yeah. However, I went on the mission voluntarily. Just like I have been for the past couple of months. I just, miss the action, ya know?"

Vanderwood's eye's narrowed and the now short haired redheaded woman. 

"I still don't understand this sudden change. You've decided to take over the family business, you have decided to reign as a Mafia Queen but, peacefully. You're not as hot headed as you were before and lately, you've acted like a lady more than anything else. It's weird. Creeps me out."

Samantha rolled her eyes and began to gather her things. 

"I've just made some changes and decisions that benefit my future."

"But won't you miss you're old life? Even a little? And isn't this new life...complicated?" Seven crossed his arms and looked at Samantha with concern in his eyes. A sadness that almost seemed like pitty. Samantha simply chuckled.

"Don't you worry about me and what I'm doing."

"I mean, sure, okay but that stuff in the states, how does-"

"Saeyoung. What's the point of having money and power if you can't live the life that you want?"

The woman didn't wait for a response. She shot a wink and a smirk at the two men and disappeared out of the front door.

"What do you think, Vanderwood? What is she accomplishing by doing any of these things?"

"Oh she has some sort of plan cooking. Trust me. But for now, I hope what we got tonight helps you get a little further."

"Do you think we should tell her that what I'm finding could involve 'He who shall not be named in front of her'?" 

"I'm sure her, and the rich kid will find out eventually. And he'll only get involved if you tell him about his friend. Which, speaking of, where is the mint haired guy?"

"I think I've found him. But I don't want to scare him away. Especially if he has the information I need. Which." Seven took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. "I truly think that he does."

Vanderwood hooked his jacket over his shoulder and opened the door to leave.

"Hey, aren't you going to stay and go through what we found?"

"No. This bunker is filthy." "Mr. Han..." The security guard outside of his office didn't try to exchange pleasantries. He simply greeted, nodded and opened the door for his boss. Jumin shuffled around papers mindlessly. He sporadically ran his hands through his raven hair. Pacing. Loosening his tie. Exhaustion began to rear it's head and he heavily clunked into his desk chair. A gentle knock came from the heavy office door.

"Come in."

"Mr. Han, I gathered all of today's major newspapers and tabloids and looked them over for you." A nervous intern with armfuls of paper material stood in front of Jumin's desk.

"What is the damage? Anything we have to get in front of?"

"Well sir..."

Jumin arched his brow, not thrilled with the boys nervous and hesitant tone. "There were quite a few stories about your father and even one or two about you and a rumored engagement to that popular young actress..."

Leaning back Jumin began to rub his temples. He could feel a dark anger rising in him. Sheer frustration and humiliation at his father's actions.

"However, Mr. Han." The intern continued. "There was other news that overshadowed these things. Something that took over most all the major headlines."

He began to spread the reading material out on the desk for Jumin to look over as he explained what he had read.

"Remember when business tycoon Kang Dae announced his adoptive daughter would take over the business but then herself and his other daughter just kind of disappeared? Well not really disappeared, Kaeli actually ran off with musical actor Zen and I'm a huge fan of there's and-"

"Get on with it." 

"Oh right." Wiping the sweat from his brow and stopping his rambling, the intern continued. "There were all those rumors and speculation about gang involvement, mafia ties, Russian mobs, and no one really knew what had happened to Samantha."

Jumin felt himself clam up. He broke into a cold sweat. Hearing all these specific words along with her name. Knowing that big news laid before him, he could only imagine worst case scenarios. 

 "Seems like they finally figured out what she was up to."

 " Thank you that will be all. "

 "Of course Mr. Han. Thank you." 

The intern left the room and Jumin scrambled to get through as many headlines as he could in a split second. 

FEATHERS TO FINANCE

BURLESQUE TO BUSINESS

DADDY'S LITTLE SHOWGIRL

 "After a long absence from the family business, tycoon Kang Dae's oldest daughter has returned to sit on the board and claim next in line to run the company."

 Jumin was reading the words but didn't understand why he was hearing them out loud.

 "The heiress disappeared out of public eye in the corporate world but was quite busy overseas. For the year she was gone, Samantha Dae spent time building a problematic reputation as a showgirl in The United States. Mainly in Las Vegas, Nevada. Famously known as Sin City." 

 Jumin put down the newspaper in front of him and looked toward the front of his office. The doorway. Someone was leaning in the doorway. He followed red stiletto heels up long pale legs. A cobalt blue dress that laid above the knee. They were holding up the same newspaper Jumin was just reading himself. They dropped the newspaper from their face, folded it in half and tossed it to the side. Jumins breath caught in his throat. 

 "Tsk. If you read more, they try to make me sound like a real harlot." 

 She slowly walked toward the center of the room. A confident air surrounded her. A million dollar smile graced her face. Before she could make it anywhere near where Jumin had been sitting, strong arms wrapped around her and weighted her down like a ton of bricks. 

 "Samantha..." Jumins voice was barely above a whisper. He had his hand gently stroking her hair. It was shorter, but it was just as soft as he remembered. He inhaled deeply , trying to intake her scent he was always so fond of. 

Samantha wrapped her arms around his back and shut her eyes tight. For a year, everything she had done, all the moves she had made, everything was to get here. She was overcome with relief and unbelievable bliss. She pulled away and placed her hands on Jumins chest. He refused to let her go. She looked in his charcoal eyes. His bottom lashes sparkled, wet with tears.

 "Is my haircut that horrible?" Samantha chuckled as she wiped the tears from Jumins eyes.

 " It's lovely. You're beautiful. You're real. You're here. " Jumin could barely get the words out. His energy was dark and heavy. Samantha peered into his face, scanning every bit of him. Her heart broke. He was overwhelmed and under distress. She wondered what he had been going through in the past year, and knew he most likely had been shouldering it all himself. She was overcome with tremendous guilt. Pulling her body flush against his, Samantha spoke more tenderly than she ever had before.

 "There is no world that exists, where I would not come back to you. I'm here. To stay."

[vgckwb]

ML: Are They Worthy? Chapter 17: Putting the Pieces in Place!

Marinette and Vlad were in Mr. Chastain’s office. “So, I was thinking, I could maybe create some designs for the art exhibition” Marinette said.

“Of course Marinette” Mr. Chastain said. “I’m surprised you didn’t come to me day one.”

“Well, I thought I might be too busy” Marinette said. “Vlad kind of talked me into it.”

“Don’t drag me down like that. You wanted to do this, right?” Vlad said.

“Of course” Marinette replied.

“Then just do it” Vlad said.

“So, who are you going to use to model your clothes?” Mr. Chastain asked.

“Well, I was just thinking of using models” Marinette said.

“Nonsense. I’m available” Vlad said. “And I think Adrien wouldn’t mind doing this either.”

“You...think so?” Marinette said.

“Sure, let’s go ask him” Vlad said.

“Of course I will” Adrien said.

“Really?! You mean it?!” Marinette said.

“Yeah. I model professionally all the time. It would be nice to do something just for fun” Adrien said. “In fact, why don’t you come over after school today? We can ask my father if you could borrow some of his things. He’s actually been pretty cool lately.”

“Your father? As in Gabriel Agreste? As in THE Gabriel Agreste?” Marinette said, panicking. “There’s no way he’ll let me-”

“Of course I’ll help out” Gabriel said, later at the mansion.

Marinette’s mouth hung agape. “Told ya he’s been cool lately” Adrien said.

“Of course, I’m not going to buy anything new for this, nor will I allow you to use anything new” Gabriel said, “but I have plenty of unused material if you need it. Also, you have access to my machines.”

“Are you sure, Mr. Agreste?” Marinette said. “I’m just some high school girl.”

“Nonsense Marinette. From what I’ve seen, you’re an excellent designer” Gabriel said. “You're better than everyone else.”

“What he means to say is ‘don’t sell yourself short’” Adrien said, covering for his dad. “Marinette, you designed a derby hat that Audrey Bourgeois loved. You’ve designed an album cover for Jagged Stone. You are amazing Marinette, and you deserve the best.”

Marinette couldn’t stop blushing. “Thank you” she said.

“You can get started right away, if you want,” Gabriel said.

Marinette checked her phone. “AH! I forgot. I’ve got to babysit this afternoon. I’m going to be late! At my own house nonetheless!”

“In that case, our driver can take you home” Gabriel said.

“We should come along too” Vlad said. “If we’re going to be your models, you’d need our measurements, right? Besides, I’m great with kids.”

“Vlad, you’re not great with people” Adrien retorted.

“Yeah, but kids are different” Vlad said.

“We can have this conversation later!” Marinette said, angrily.

“Marinette’s right, let’s go” Adrien said. The three of them left.

Gabriel walked back into his office. He approached a metal case, opened it, took out his miraculous, and put it back on. “I’m sorry I have to do this Nooroo, but since you’ve told me that this Beyyo can sniff out other kwamis, I have to be more careful than ever.”

“Yes master” Nooroo said. “But just a reminder, it is possible for you to pass his standards.”

Gabriel quickly responded “I can’t take that chance Nooroo. Remember when I Akumatized myself to keep people off of my trail?” Nooroo nodded. “If there’s any chance that I could get caught or lose my powers, I have to eliminate it. If I were powerless, if I couldn’t get the ladybug and cat miraculous, I wouldn’t be able to bring back Emilie. I don’t know what I would do if I actually had to let go of her.”

Meanwhile, a little after the three of them arrived back at Marinette’s, Nadja was telling Marinette “Thanks again for babysitting Manon.”

“No problem Mrs. Chamack” Marinette said. “And thanks for understanding why I got here just as you arrive.”

“I get it Marinette” Nadja said. “Everyone has a lot of things to do at times. I’m just glad you could make it work.”

Marinette lowered herself to Manon. “Ready to go upstairs Manon? I have some quick work I need to do, but after that, we can do what you want.”

“Who is that guy? I feel like I’ve seen him before, but I don’t know where” Manon said.

“Who, Vlad?” Marinette said. “He’s a model, like Adrien. He just moved to Paris recently from Toulouse.”

“I remember now!” Manon said. “You were in a magazine! Mommy was looking you up to prepare for an interview. She says you can be rude sometimes.”

“Manon!” Nadja said.

“It’s OK Mrs. Chamack, I can be rude sometimes” Vlad said.

Nadja replied “Yes, but-”

“Don’t worry about it Mrs. Chamack” Adrien said. “Vlad prefers that level of bluntness. He’s not one to take to common courtesy.”

“It’s part of my charm,” Vlad said. Adrien rolled his eyes. “So, we’re still on for that interview then?”

“Yes” Nadja said.

“Good” Vlad said. “I’m heading upstairs.”

“Come on Manon, we should get upstairs too” Marinette said.

“OK” Manon said. The two of them headed upstairs.

“Nadja” Adrien said. “I know Vlad can seem rude at times, but he has his reasons. He’s a nice guy once you get to know him. And once he gets to know you. Just relax and be yourself.”

Nadja nodded. “Thank you Adrien” she said.

“Don’t mention it” Adrien said.

“Well, I’m off. Take good care of Manon for me” Nadja said, leaving.

“Will do Mrs. Chamack” Adrien replied. He headed upstairs.

Marinette was getting Vlad’s measurements, while Manon was playing with the Ladybug-related dolls. “Did you make those dolls yourself?” Vlad asked.

“Yeah” Marinette said.

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Vlad asked.

“Play croquet” Marinette answered. Vlad was surprised, but then laughed. “Don’t laugh! Now I have to do the legs again” Marinette said, frustrated.

“I’m sorry” Vlad apologized. “I just wasn’t expecting that answer.”

“Well, it’s true” Marinette said. “I’m too scared of it to do it well.”

“Scared?” Vlad said.

Marinette sighed. “When I was about Manon’s age, my parents bought a movie from when they were younger. I wanted to watch it with them, but they wouldn’t let me. So I snuck down and watched it while they weren’t looking. Turns out, my parents were right. It was a gruesome movie. I had nightmares for weeks. It starts out with croquet, and I’ve been too afraid since. And done.” Vlad started to relax.

Adrien got up. “Hey guys. What’s up?”

“What took you so long?” Vlad asked.

“I had to cover for your behavior” Adrien said.

“Adrien” Vlad said. “When will you stop doing that? People need to see me unvarnished.”

“I don’t think most people are ready for you unvarnished” Adrien said.

“You were” Vlad retorted.

“Yeah, but I’m not most people” Adrien said.

“I know” Marinette said, joyously.

“What was that?” Adrien said.

“Ah! Nothing!” Marinette said. “Let’s just get your measurements.”

Adrien got ready to be measured. He was used to people doing this to him a thousand times over. But this time, it felt different. Maybe because this was his friend doing it this time. Maybe it was because he knew that this would result is something just for him, and not a product to be sold. Whatever it was he felt happy. “Oh, I just remembered. Nathalie found my parents’ old croquet set. Wanna come play sometime? I can invite everyone else.”

“Croquet? Uhhhhh, sure” Marinette said.

“But I thought you just told Vlad that you were afraid of croquet Marinette” Manon said.

“WHAT?! No I didn’t” Marinette said.

“You most certainly did” Vlad said. Marinette groaned.

“Don’t worry Marinette. We can do something else if you want” Adrien said.

“Thanks” Marinette said. She finished getting Adrien’s measurements. “And that’s done. Well Manon, what should we do now?”

Manon thought about it. “Why don’t we go to the zoo?” she asked.

“Sounds like a plan” Marinette said. “Do you guys wanna come with?”

“Sure” Adrien said.

“I got nothing better to do today” Vlad said.

“Thanks” Marinette said. “We should go then.” Marinette and Adrien left.

Manon was just about to leave as well, when Vlad stopped her. “Manon” he said. “Can you keep a secret?”

“What kind of secret?” Manon said.

“Well, it’s just, Marinette and Adrien like each other a whole lot” Vlad said.

“I know” Manon said.

“You know?” Vlad said.

“Yup. I just know that they were meant to be together forever and ever” Manon said.

Vlad smiled. “Right. But they don’t know that. And they’re afraid of asking each other out because they don’t want to be rejected.”

Manon looked sad. “That’s terrible.”

“I know” Vlad said. “I’m working on a way to get them together, and I was wondering if you had any ideas?”

Manon thought about it for a little bit. “I would invite them somewhere, but not tell them the other one was showing up. Then you can set it up to be super romantic, and when they get there, they’ll realize they’re on a date.”

Vlad chuckled. “What a great idea Manon. I’ll keep that in mind. But first, there are a few other complications I need to work out first. Is that alright?”

Vlad reflected on a meeting he had with Master Fu. “So, when do you think Marinette and Adrien will be ready to know each other’s identities?” Vlad asked.

“Well, there are two big problems” Master Fu said. “They aren’t ready to be honest with each other. But in different ways.”

“How so?” Vlad asked.

“Well, think of it like this: Marinette is a pot of water” Master Fu said.”Normally, she’s boiling at the right level to interact with  noodles, or people. However, when it comes to Adrien, she’s boiling over before the noodles are even in the pot.”

“I understand,” Vlad said. “I’ve definitely seen that in Marinette.”

“Adrien’s situation is a bit more complicated” Master Fu said. “As Cat Noir, he is a lot more free-spirited. A lot more loose. As Adrien, however, he is stiff. He creates this aura of perfection around him.”

“I get that as well,” Vlad said. “It’s the same when he and I are goofing around backstage. He needs to loosen up a little more when he’s among friends.”

“So until they’re ready to be honest about themselves in front of each other, I would advise not telling them” Master Fu said.

“Sure. But, it wouldn’t hurt to maybe help move them in that particular direction, would it?” Vlad asked.

“If that is how you want to proceed” Master Fu said.

“Great. Thanks Master Fu” Vlad said.

In the present, Manon said “Of course! If it means they won’t be afraid.”

Vlad rubbed her head. “Thanks for understanding” he said.

Marinette popped back up. “Manon! There you are. What were you doing?” she asked.

“Do you want to tell her Manon?” Vlad asked.

Manon looked at Marinette, said “It’s our secret”, and giggled.

Marinette panicked. She pulled Vlad aside and asked “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

“Tell her what?” Vlad asked confused.

“That you’re Judgement Wolf!” Marinette whispered.

Vlad burst out laughing. “Oh man! No. Just no.”

“What are you talking about?” Manon asked.

“Well, it’s our secret” Vlad said.

Manon was stunned. “OK” she said kind of sad.

“Come on Manon. We’re about to go to the zoo” Marinette said. The three of them went downstairs, met Adrien, and the four of them left for the zoo.

Thy had an exhilarating day at the zoo. Manon loved every second of it, and the three teens loved seeing Manon so happy. When Marinette had to take Manon to the restroom, Vlad and Adrien found themselves alone.

Vlad took this opportunity to try and move Adrien closer to honesty. “So, when do you break out backstage Adrien?”

“Vlad, what are you talking about?” Adrien said.

“Come on man, you know what I mean” Vlad said. “Yes, you’re always the gentleman, but where are the jokes? Where’s your ability to relieve tension?”

“That’s Cat Noir, not Adrien” Adrien said. “I don’t know what father would think if I started doing that all the time.”

“Even among friends?” Vlad said. “I mean, you do it with me.”

“Yeah, but you know me better. We’re in the same boat” Adrien said.

“Yeah, but I always act the way I do backstage” Vlad said.

“I guess” Adrien said.

“I know you’re worried about your dad, but you’ve gotta open up more” Vlad said. “Maybe Ladybug will like you more if you spread yourself out more, instead of overpowering her and only her with your true self.”

“I thought you told me to give up on Ladybug” Adrien said.

“Yeah, well, I know you well enough to know when you’re actually listening to me” Vlad said.

Adrien giggled. “Maybe. I might be listening to you. A little bit.”

“Ooooo. Do tell” Vlad said.

“Well, lately I’ve been thinking that if it doesn’t work out with Ladybug, I might just ask Marinette out” Adrien said. “She kind, considerate, funny, diligent. There’s a lot to like about her.”

“You know that’s right” Vlad said.

“Still, I’m slightly holding out hope for Ladybug” Adrien said.

“Well, it would help to loosen up either way” Vlad said. “Everyone in class thinks you’re this perfect being, including Marinette. If you asked Marinette out now, she would explode.”

“I’ll keep that in mind” Adrien said.

Marinette and Manon returned. They spent the rest of the afternoon at the zoo. They went back to Marinette’s place. Nadja came and picked up Manon. Adrien decided to leave as well. He had an early morning fencing lesson and wanted to get some sleep.

“So Marinette,” Vlad said, “why do you get so intense around Adrien?”

“Intense? What me. Pshhhh. I don’t get intense” Marinette said.

“Marinette, you said you would play croquet with him after you just got done telling me how it gave you nightmares” Vlad said.

“Yeah” Marinette relented.

“Why can’t you treat him like you would me?” Vlad asked.

“Because Adrien’s perfect” Marinette said. “The way he walks, talks, eats, down to how he smiles. I, uh, I’m not saying you’re bad.”

“Relax, I get it,” Vlad said. “You’re in love. But remember, no one's perfect. Not even Adrien.”

“Well, there’s also the fact that there isn’t a chance the two of us will go out anytime soon” Marinette said.

“True” Vlad said. “So, what about someone who you might date? Like Cat Noir, for instance.”

“Cat Noir?” Marinette said.

“Well, you did kiss him” Tikki said.

“TIKKI!” Marinette said.

“When did this happen?” Beyyo asked.

“Well, a supervillain named Oblivio wiped our memories” Tikki explained. “They kissed after figuring out how to use their powers again and defeating Oblivio, but before the magic ladybugs could fix everything, including their previous memories.”

“I see” said Vlad.

“Look, Cat Noir is great and all, but…” Marinette said.

“He’s just a friend to you” Vlad said. “I know. What I’m asking is how do you maintain a cool head like that when talking to Cat Noir? Or anyone else?”

“Well, with Cat Noir, I’m usually focused on stopping a supervillain” Marinette said. “I don’t have time to think about all the things. But when I’m near Adrien, it feels like time slows down, and everything piles up.”

Vlad nodded. “I get it. But maybe I can help you work on that. So you won’t be as much of a nervous wreck if and when you and Adrien are alone.”

Marinette got an inquisitive look on her face. “Is this what you and Manon were talking about?”

“Maybe” Vlad said. “Like she said, it’s our secret.”

Marinette smiled smugly. “Well, whatever you’re planning, I wouldn't mind some help.”

“Anytime” Vlad said. “I should get going too. Seeya.” Vlad left.

Marinette sat down. “Tikki, do you think he’s right?” Marinette asked.

“Well, you do go overboard when it comes to Adrien” Tikki said. “Maybe it would be helpful to learn how to calm down around him. Treating him like Vlad or Cat Noir might be a good idea.”

“You’re right Tikki” Marinette said. She started to sketch possible designs.

Vlad was on his way home when Beyyo popped up. “I just don’t understand. How can any two people be like this? It’s almost infuriating” Beyyo said.

“Yeah, but that’s where we come in,” Vlad said. “We’re there to help. If they’re going to continue being Ladybug and Cat Noir, they need to be at their best. Otherwise, we’d have to take away their miraculous. And we don’t want that, do we?”

“I guess you’re right” Beyyo said. “They are great superheroes.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask you something” Vlad said. “If I’m not affected by miraculous powers, how was I able to travel through time with Bunnyx?”

“Yeahhhhhh, soooooooo” Beyyo began explaining. “You’re able to interact with the powers, but you always have to maintain a balance.”

“Meaning?” Vlad said.

“Well, in this case, since you went through time, you will disappear from that moment and appear in the same place you were right before you appeared in Alix’s room during the time you missed” Beyyo said. “You can’t exist simultaneously on the timeline.”

“Well that’s something you could have told me sooner” Vlad said.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t expecting she’d take you that far out” Beyyo said. “It’s been a bit since Fluff and I interacted.”

“Well then, I guess that’s another thing we need to prepare for” Vlad said, walking through the night to his place.

[fandomlife-giver]

Toxic Veins (Alucard x OC): Ch.11

Warnings: Language, Abuse, Violence, Child Abuse (Emotional)

Pairings: Alucard x OC

@redryderdesigns

Word Count: 4336

Integra was in that mood again. By 'that mood', I mean she was acting pretty bitchy again. The second Alucard and I separated, she grabbed me by the arm and dragged me out of the room and down the hall towards her office.

So, even though you're probably not even thinking about this because you don't really care, the reason I'm just letting this happen is that frankly, when she gets like this the wise choice is to not do anything that would piss her off more because that...that could be bad.

At the moment we reached her office, she didn't even bother being classy about opening the door. Nope, she decided to kick the damn thing open and I will admit just once that it kind of made me straighten up. She was all business right now.

Deciding to yank me inside to emphasize how annoyed she was, I stumbled to stand still as she closed the door and locked it. When she turned around, my eyes were as wide as a deer's in headlights. Crossing her arms, her sharp glare hit me and it felt like she was practically stabbing it through me.

"Would you care to explain why I walked in on you in Alucard's arms?"

Wow, she would make a pretty intimidating mother. Or even a school principal. 'Cause she's doing a damn good job as a boss.

"Integra, calm down. It was a hug. You're always lecturing me about talking out my issues, that was all we did and it's all good now, okay?"

I held my hands up in defense with the great hope she would drop the entire thing as I began moving over to the door.

Yeah, you should know by now that she most definitely did not drop it.

I was caught by surprise when she snatched the back of my hair and believe it or not, this bitch pulled me back to look at her face...By. My. Hair.

Her lips curled up to sneer in anger now.

"Don't you even try me with your crap today, Phyre. I don't want you and him ever becoming that close again. He's a damn monster, Phyre."

I...I couldn't even tell what she was really saying around this time because she had unintentionally triggered something in me the moment she grabbed my hair.

Flashback…

Yelping at the top of my lungs from the quick pain inflicting on me at the hard way he pulled my hair, I kept my eyes wide open, knowing how much he hated it when I tried to keep them closed.

"Stay still, you damn brat. Let me work my art on you."

Then the tears rolled down my cheeks as he managed to use his other free hand to snip the ends of my hair.

"Looking better...but it's not enough."

"Phyre! Are you even listening to me? I'm serious right now, don't try me."

A short gasp left me as my eyes once again focused on Integra, but she could see the expression on my face, because the second she did, she let go of my hair and stepped back.

"Phyre...I didn't mean to do that."

I knew I was on the verge of crying and it took everything to hold the tears back and not cry like a baby in front of her.

"It's all right."

Putting on the best smile I could at the time, I sniffed in an attempt to clear my head and turned towards the door.

"I'm sorry to upset you, Integra. I won't do it again."

"Phy-"

I didn't give her a chance to respond and I took the time to open the door and get out of the room as fast as I can.

She stared at me as I left the room and I could make out the sound of frustration as she slammed the door shut.

Walking down that hallway was about as fun as walking down a path on broken glass barefoot. So, it wasn't unless you're a weirdo. Not that there's anything wrong with that…

I was so close to just screaming at every step because that heaviness inside your chest and throat when you know you're about to cry was building up the further away I got from that office.

Lucky for me, though, my room wasn't too far down from her office. In fact, I was there in less than a minute, but at the second my hand touched the doorknob and opened the door, my body froze.

"Miss Laurifer, there you are. I had Alucard return to his room in the basement. I'd like a word if that's alright."

I managed to give him a glance over the shoulder.

"Of course. What is it, Walter?"

He had a very serious expression.

"Well, I'm sure Sir Integra already gave you the lecture, but I'll simply state my opinion. I believe it would actually be wise to grow closer with Alucard."

My grip on the doorknob loosened.

"Unfortunately, that isn't why I'm here."

He outstretched his arm and gestured to my attire.

"You may want to get dressed. We've been summoned by the Vatican."

I felt my brows furrow as I fully turned around to see the slightly annoyed look on his face.

Oh no. Don't tell me it's...

°°°

Enrico fucking Maxwell.

My arms were folded over my chest as I glared at the stupid painting in front of me. The damn Vatican was making us wait and to pass the time, for some unknown reason, Integra, Walter and I stood intently staring at this pointless painting until he bothered to show up.

It's not that I have anything personally against Maxwell...actually, it is. Purely because he had a sick liking to use me like a prized possession. Could care less about me, though. So definitely was not looking forward to that ass again.

Beside me, I heard Integra sigh out of irritating boredom.

"What time is it, Walter?"

From the corner of my eye, I saw Walter check his watch.

"It's just passed three, ma'am."

Bringing her hands behind her back, she scoffed. "They arranged this meeting and still manage to be late."

Tilting her head, she turned her gaze to me. "Phyre, you've worked with them before. Do you think it's a trap?"

I couldn't help but raise my eyebrows as I shrugged my shoulders. "Well, I can't say for sure, but I doubt they'd try anything during the day. Especially in public."

Closing her eyes, she exhaled through her nose, meanwhile, I had to adjust my shorts and pull them down because damn, it was cold enough to freeze a tit off.

"I mean it is the heart of an enemy’s territory, after all."

In the middle of my sentence, the faint sounds of people talking came to our ears, making Integra and I turn and see Maxwell and one of his priests coming down the hallway towards us. However, the second Maxwell caught us in his vision, they stopped talking and he chuckled.

"I think we're a little late."

The priest grunted in agreement. "It appears so, sir."

He laughed again and stepped closer to us with an apologetic smile. "Oh dear, so sorry to keep you waiti-"

"That's close enough!"

The command laced in Integra's voice gave even me the chills and I unintentionally stepped back from her.

"What business does the Vatican have here? And why send the Iscariots, the dirtiest of their dirty little secrets?"

He put on that stupid fake smile as he slowly removed his glasses.

"How unfortunate. It seems our reputation has proceeded us. Allow me to introduce myself." The hidden smirk on his face was enough to make my teeth grind.

"That won't be necessary."

Instantly his eyes snapped to me and slightly narrowed as I pressed my lips into a thin line.

"We already know who you are."

He took a second to close his glasses, then cock his head to the side.

"Miss Phyronela Manchester. A true surprise to see you here. With them of all people." All amusement that was present in his expression quickly disappeared. "You still have much to learn about holding your tongue. Honestly, I don't know how many times I've told you that it would be in your best interest to keep that pretty mouth of yours shut."

This cheeky bastard seriously made my blood boil, but I still didn't dare say another word. Why? Because despite how badly I wanted to get in his face, I was raised in a church to show respect to those above me.

"And what is with that attire? No one gave you permission to flaunt around in such disrespect. I should make a reminder to send another agent to fetch you, the Lord knows you will never put any effort into anyone besides yourself."

I unknowingly lowered my head and bit my bottom lip, keeping back the words I wanted to share with him and trying to block out any thoughts of doubting myself. That was one thing Enrico Maxwell was good at doing to you.

Glaring sharply at him, Integra turned her body towards him. "That's enough of the harassment towards my agent. If there's anyone here who needs to keep their mouth shut it's you because I for one don't care who you are. Just tell us what you want."

The dick actually laughed again and waved his hands in defense. "There's no need to be so rude. We didn't come all the way here to pick a fight with you, Sir Integra."

She took a step forward to him. "I don't believe you. You've done nothing but show contempt for our treaties. This latest incident with Anderson in Northern Ireland was inexcusable. He killed two of my best men in Badrick. He nearly killed your precious church jewel here due to his own recklessness while I barely made it out with my head still attached. And you have the--"

"Would you shut up!"

My eyes went wide when he first had the balls to interrupt her and second, crushed his own glasses with one hand as he shouted.

"You really expect us to just let you do as you please? Two men? If I would kill a million of you present scum, I would not have shed a tear. I'm here under direct orders from his holiness. Otherwise, I would not bother with you, filthy creatures."

That was a breaking point for me. "You may be the head of Iscariot, but being a spoiled child of a man with an accent doesn't give you the right to disrespect anyone you come across--"

"Coming from a mouthy, selfish crybaby who destroys everything she touches, I wouldn’t talk."

My breath hitched in my throat and that line alone was enough to shut me up for the rest of the day.

A large grin crept over his face. "So just shut up and pay attention, you annoying boor."

"A boor...?"

I momentarily flinched when a figure emerged from the wall directly in front of me and stepped through to where he stood right beside me with his head down, his hat and glasses covering his eyes.

"Nothing like Iscariot to inspire the fear of God. Such fearsome insults. Two thousand years of your same prattle. Truly, some things never do seem to change."

Raising his hand up in a graceful manner, he instantly returned to his princely appearance. "Ah, the great vampire Alucard. The Hellsing family's pet creature. I don't believe I've ever seen you in person before."

He placed a hand over his heart and bowed his head. "It's a great pleasure to make your acquaintance."

I felt the pressure of a hand reassuringly squeezing my shoulder which made me look up. It only took a second to realize it was Alucard's but his eyes were moved on to Maxwell from what I could tell.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well. And now, I must say goodbye."

And like that, my eyebrow shot up when he pulled out one of his guns and aimed it directly at Maxwell.

Maxwell was pretty surprised at the sudden gesture as well.

"You dare to call Phyre a boor and expect me to allow you to continue living? I'm afraid I'm going to have to put a bullet in you, you foolish little man."

There was a lot of things from his words I know I should've focused on, but all I could was the fact that this was the first time he referred to me as my name when talking to others. And I won't lie, I was very glad he appeared at that moment because it made me feel special inside.

Meanwhile, Maxwell wasn't shaken from the weapon being pointed at him in the least. In fact, he grinned.

"Oh, how absolutely terrifying. How is a man supposed to deal with people who point a gun in his face?"

His attention moved on to Integra. "I think you'll agree on the turnabout this fair play." Bending over, he stared Alucard directly in the eye. "So why don't we make this fight interesting?"

Snapping his fingers, he turned and let out a summoning shout.

"Andersoooon!!"

A strangled sound erupted from my throat when I actually let the name process in my head. Oh, come on. Not this guy again.

All eyes snapped to the figure who began strolling down the hallway, directly towards us.

"Ask of thee and I shall give thy of their inheritance."

Hell, you've gotta be kidding me here!

"Serve the Lord with fear. And rejoice with trend. Kiss the son lest he be angry--"

As he approached with growing speed, Maxwell realized his little bluff was about to go too far and immediately stepped in front of the bloodthirsty priest in an attempt to stop him.

"No! Anderson, stop!"

Yeah, of course, he didn't stop. Dammit, this is a public place, a civilian could come anywhere at any--oh shit!

Face stretching in a very unattractive way I'm sure, I yelped as Anderson grabbed my arm and pulled me forward to him, keeping me on the side of Iscariot with a very strong grip on me.

Again, I could try to struggle, but I think we all know it would be pointless. The guy's a freaking Irish mountain.

"That which belongs to us stays with us. A cherished possession to handle shall stay within our hands."

Oh, boy. And now Alucard was beginning to step up. He walked passed Integra and Walter, his eyes focused on me as that sadistic grin stretched across his face.

As I stood with his stomach to my back, Anderson collided his two bayonets together as if shielding me off from him. "This can be over with one swing of my sword. Iscariot doth not shook when the enemy presents itself."

Reaching inside his jacket, Alucard whipped out both guns, the force enough that it knocked his hat and glasses off his head. And he let out a deep laugh.

"Neither of us could ever back down from a fight. Touching her would soil her beauty. Lay another hand on her, I dare you. Come on now, Judas Priest!"

Woah, woah, woah! I know it's the thought that counts, but I would like to not be in the middle of it!

"You won't be so lucky this time, you monster."

*Whistle*

Huh?

I instantly leaned back and further into Anderson when out of nowhere, Seras came skipping in with an entire crowd of old Japanese tourists.

Well, that was rando--shit!

For the second time, I was yanked, this time by Seras and pulled over to the Hellsing side of the battlefield. As she continued blowing her whistle and guiding the oblivious foreign elderly crowd, I stumbled and ended up falling into a hard chest.

Can you guess who's? Yep, it was Walter's.

He managed to catch me before I could fall and we watched as Alucard and Anderson lowered their weapons. Alucard was the first to speak.

"This isn't the time or place, so for now, I won't engage this battle. But if you try taking Phyre away one more time, I promise I won't hold back."

Anderson snickered at his words. "You may have a point."

Turning around, Alucard made one final statement. "I'm going back to sleep."

That was the most relatable sentence I've heard all day.

Quickly leaving Walter's hold, I ran to catch up with Count Chocula. "God, wait up, I could so use a nap right now."

He deeply sighed as we walked side by side towards the wall. "Waking up in the middle of the day is exhausting."

I could hear the tiredness in his voice and automatically agreed as a yawn made it's way past my lips. "I hear that."

I gripped onto his coat as we neared the wall and I'm pretty sure he could sense the mixture of fear and excitement that swelled up inside me because he laughed as we went through it.

Oh boy!

I couldn't help the reflex of closing my eyes when we made contact and the second they opened back up, we were in the hallway of our rooms and...I was wrapped around his arm and waist like a monkey. I automatically let go of him.

"Uh, sorry."

He grunted a tired "No problem," and he turned away, moving down the hall towards the basement.

I turned away also, but I stopped myself before I actually started walking. It took a few seconds of contemplation, but I spun back around and blurted out what I wanted to say.

"Thanks for standing up for me back there."

He went on pause for a moment and there was a long moment of silence. He wasn't saying anything, so I kept talking like an idiot.

"It's just, nobody's really done that for me before and the fact you did, I just feel really grateful and also kind of like an ass because of the way I treated you and stuff, so at the same time I'm sorry and--"

"Phyre."

I looked back up to him. "Uh, y-yeah?"

Da fuq, did I just stutter?

He was smiling widely over his shoulder. "I always have stood up for you and I always will, no matter what."

My eyes widened as my hand shot out and I menacingly pointed at him. "Hey, don't go thinking this changes anything about what we talked about, got it?"

Letting out a chuckle, he continued down the hallway. "Sleep well, Phyre."

"You’re damn right I will!"

Oh my God, I need to learn how to shut up.

°°°

"Phyre, I need to discuss something with you."

"Mah, crom on!"

I swallowed the last bit of cookie that I happened to shove into my mouth right when Integra decided to walk in my room and I sat up to look at her.

"What is it?"

She paused to enter the room and throw down a few small boxes on the bed. That immediately caught my attention.

"Remember the stories my father told us as children about what really happened in WWII?"

Sighing, I rested my chin in my palm. "About Alucard and Walter fighting the Nazis who were trying to make a vampire army, right?"

"Yes. Actually, Maxwell revealed to me information regarding Millennium. We have a lock on a base of theirs, so you, Seras, Bernadotte, and Alucard are going to Brazil. You leave in one hour. So hurry up and get dressed in this."

As she finished speaking her last word, I placed a finger over her lips. "Hold on a second. You didn't say who was behind the attacks."

She stayed silent and only crossed her arms. I felt a grin creep across my face.

"It's the Nazis, isn't it?"

She snapped her head in my direction. "No! We don't know who it could actually be yet."

"Ha!" Letting out a laugh, I moved my attention to the boxes and lifted my arm up to open one of them.

"So what kind of clothes are..."

I had to stand up and hold up the very short and what looked to be skin tight black dress, then the matching black heels with red soles.

No way…

"Your job on this trip is simple. Search and destroy. Your cover will be the rich, gold digger wife of J. H. Brenner, who is Alucard's cover. That was not my choice--"

Of course.

"The reason for this is that you may have some seducing to do should you become too suspicious."

I became very quiet when she said that word. She didn't seem to notice as she turned and walked out of the room.

"Don't waste any time and please put on some makeup, put your hair up real nice, you need to look the part of a pretty girl after all. I'll see you off in an hour."

And with that, she shut the door and the room was so silent her footsteps walking away could be heard. My hands suddenly began to shake uncontrollably.

A pretty girl…

Flashback…

"Oh, Phyre~"

My body automatically tensed up by habit at the sound of him calling my name. Slowly, I rose my head up from where I sat at the age-old table, the wood that built it slowly rotting away as the cheap paint covering it was chipping.

Almost every time he called my name like that, I had found myself sitting at this table, probably because I related to that table as to how I always felt when he did call it. I died inside when he said my name and walked over to the table.

He leaned against it and turned his head to me, that evil look that made up his entire face was there as always.

"How would you like to be a pretty girl?"

I audibly gasped and looked up into his eyes, catching what I thought was a sincere look in them. He knew how I always talked to myself about being pretty. All the other girls did things like wear makeup and put their hair up in fancy styles that always made them pretty. I couldn't help but desperately want to be like them.

"W-Would you be able to make me one?"

He let out a laugh which, looking back at now, had hidden darkness in it. "Of course I can. But I'm gonna need you to be good and not try anything, all right?"

I nodded vigorously like the naive little girl I was. "O-Okay, whatever you say, Lucan."

He gestured for me to stand up and I shot up from my seat. He then turned and walked out of the room towards the basement. "Follow me and don't wander off."

When we got down there, it didn't resonate with me how sketchy everything was like why the hell he would want to do something nice for me.

There was only one bulb lighting the room, the rest was in darkness and...basically everything escalated and it happened in no way I would imagine.

When I sat down in the only chair in the room, he turned on the rest of the lights and I soon realized it was all a trap when the faces of all his equally sadistic friends came into view and they were eagerly waiting for what was about to happen. Trying to escape was pointless because Lucan actually had back-up now.

And what he did was wrong, and scarring for a naive little girl like me.

He cut my hair, he sloppily put on makeup on my face, he dressed me up in a short dress, and he threw me to the wolves by leaving me in that room to put on a show for his friends. Nothing happened except me being forced to dance for them, but it was enough to forever scar a 10-year-old.

Staring down at that dress was enough to make the tears form in my eyes. My vision went blurry fairly quickly and before I knew it, I was actually tearing apart the boxes to see what else I had to wear. What included was just a bracelet that just so happened to have flowers printed all over it.

That was the worst thing I could've found, considering the physical scar that was seared into my shoulder.

And just like that, I lost it. I lost everything. The tears fell, the gross sobbing, the screaming, and that feeling of pain overwhelmed me. I hated every second of it. As much as I tried to hold it in, the pain came out like an uproar from my throat in the form of a silent scream. The beads of water started falling down one after another, without a sign of stopping.

It got worse from my view when I heard the faint sound of boots hitting the floorboard. I knew who it was. I just didn't have it in me to yell at him to get out.

There were no words spoken as he knelt down on the floor with me and wrapped his arms around me. At first, I was so protestant, I wanted the bastard to let go of me so bad that I pounded on his chest but it did nothing as much as he did nothing. Eventually, I lost all fight I had and I aggressively held on to him, now desperate for someone to hold.

I sobbed into his chest unceasingly, hands clutching at his jacket. He held me in silence, rocking me slowly as my tears soaked his chest. A tiny lapse let me pull away, blinking lashes heavy with tears, before I collapsed again, my howls of misery worsening. The pain came in waves, minutes of sobbing broken apart by short pauses for recovering breaths, before hurling me back into the outstretched arms of my grief.

And for the first time in forever, I had a shoulder to cry on.