#The perspective errors on this one are KILLING me but I’ve got to just let it go | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

huenjin · 5 years ago

Text

the study of relationships.

summary — college team's volleyball captain and your roommate-cum-best friend, hwang hyunjin argues with you over guys being better than girls in relationships to help you out of one. or in which hyunjin is in love with you for years now and he finally decides that maybe he doesn't want that best friend tag anymore.

pairing — hwang hyunjin x reader, ft. minho

genre — fluff, angst | volleyball!au, f2l!au, roommates!au

rating — nc-17

word count — 15k words

note — kinda excited to post this very long plotted fic on here because first long fic for skz !!! this fic is brought to you by hq, hyunjin's long blond hair and b me mv that we never got. please please do send me constructive criticism so that i can improve on my writing for this community. happy reading!

"Whoa, whoa, whoa."

Your best friend, Hwang Hyunjin yells at the top of his voice, pitch lower in precision as you open the door and slam it shut forcefully, the sound loud enough to bounce to him clearly. Your feet storm hard against the wooden flooring of your apartment, sound bouncing off from that again and Hyunjin pauses his video game to look at you.

It's a familiar sight. Hyunjin sighs.

"Hey," he tries catching your attention but he fails. You storm into your room, hair flailing behind you in your anger, eyes blurry with the angst you feel that wraps slowly around your heart. You walk into the room and slam the door shut, so loud that a chip of wood breaks from the top of the door and falls down.

"Jesus Christ! Y/N—" Hyunjin yells to no one in particular. However, he drops his controller to the side of the couch and jumps to his feet only after pausing his game. He takes big strides to your room and in high contrast to his rash movements, his knocking on your door is very gentle.

"Can I come in?" He asks, scratching the door absentmindedly. He presses his ear and head against the door to hear a response but all he hears are your soft cries and it makes him sad.

"Y/N—"

"Go away, Hyunjin!"

"Y/N, let me in," he stresses, his leg kicking the air slightly, dangling before that. "I—"

"You're going to make fun of me."

"Will not." Hyunjin knows where this stems from and he won't deny. However, at this minute, he just wants to be there for you. Teasing could wait for an hour or so after you've calmed down. "So please?"

You hum and Hyunjin waits for a sign of protest. When he hears none, he takes it as an approval to open the door and the sight before him hurts him ever so slightly.

You are wrapped in a cocoon of your white blanket and your head is buried in the sheets outside, not ready to look up at your best friend. He frowns as he walks towards you, letting himself to sit by your side. He stretches his arm out and stops when you declare,

"I'm a world class dumpee."

"You are," he shrugs, voice tainted with a slight tease and you look up at him, glaring with your red, puffy eyes. You try shoving him but the cocoon you are wrapped in slightly falls forward too in impact. Hyunjin laughs and stretches both his arms forward to prevent you from falling forwards.

You pout, mumbling with a voice that is strained and is your proof of the urge to cry, "You promised you wouldn't."

"I'm your best friend," he shrugs and pushes your body wrapped in the thick blankets backwards, your head hitting against the pillow. A soft whine leaves your lips, followed by an oomph. "You knew I was going to tease you at the very first opportunity."

And then Hyunjin pounces on you, tickling your sides over the covers and your tickle sensitive being rushes in sensation as you laugh your heart out, chest heavy and mind focussing only on your best friend that you forget about the boy who broke up with you an hour back.

"Stop," you laugh. "Hyunjin," you whine. "Stop, you idiot," you laugh again. "I'm going to kill you—"

Hyunjin's laughter fills the air along with yours. In your perspective through your watery eyes, you see a boy with no worries and all smiles and you want to be like that. You desperately want to be like that. You push your wrapped body upwards to shove Hyunjin to the side and it works. He laughs, slowly receding with yours and he lets out a loud relieved sigh as he looks at your face with less creases and tears that now fall due to laughter.

"Hey," Hyunjin says and you turn your head to face him. His face is rigid, the childish gleam that he had just a while back long gone.

"Yeah?"

He sits up, running a hand through his hair and folding his arms soon after. "The guy was a jerk," he tells, helping you up. His hand finds the end of the blanket and unwraps it slowly from your being. "He was a mighty jerk, okay?"

"He is your teammate, Lee Minho," you stare, dead into his eyes and he shrugs.

"I know," he sighs before shrugging, giving you a nonchalant look. "What was it this time? Let me guess, he broke up with you for no reason again."

You hit the blankets that cover your thigh hard and send imaginary daggers in Hyunjin's way, "Yeah! I just don't understand why he'd break up with me."

"Uh, possibly because—"

"Is it because I'm on like close friend terms with everyone in the college volleyball team? I mean, Lee Minho always said dating—"

"Dating you would be hard, Y/N," Hyunjin continues, mocking your ex-boyfriend's voice. "You hang out with so many guys and all your best friends are dudes that it makes me jealous," Hyunjin pauses, placing his hands flat on the bed from behind as he leans back. "Ah, Lee Minho, that bastard. He always did say that to you."

You look down, fidgeting with your fingers and you roar out in anger. Hyunjin looks at you amused until you say, "Why can't guys be more like girls?"

"Excuse me?"

Hyunjin's eyebrow is raised and he laughs mockingly. He lifts his arms from behind, stretches his back before sitting up straight. He kicks his legs and raises it upwards to sit cross legged, looking straight at you and laughs again. "You are totally kidding me, right?"

"No, I'm not, Hyunjin," your eyebrows furrow. "The reason behind most, if not all, break-ups is the guy."

Hyunjin agrees with you deep down. Okay, maybe not completely but at least a ninety percent and that's a good one. However, he knows how competitive you are and if there's something that can get your head out of this post break up blues, it's this.

A competition. And so just to entice you a little, he sneers, "If anything, girls should be more like guys."

"Bitch, no," you laugh, head falling back at the sheer stupidity that rolls out from your best friend's mouth. "Men are so conceited that they had to make a whole word for treating women equal."

"Not all men simp. Plus, it's an AAVE and that people should not use it. In my defense, I've treated you like a guy my whole life," he shrugs. Lies. Lies. Lies he spews out endlessly because at one point, without him even knowing, things did change and he's seen you as a woman; as a woman he now has feelings for.

Hyunjin, to prove his point, hits you on his back like you've seen him do with all his teammates and your torso bends forward from your hips on impact. "See!" He stretches his arms, tattoos on display in the loose half sleeved black top he wears and you wince, stretching your hand back to rub only for Hyunjin to stop laughing quickly and rub your back, mumbling, "Sorry."

"Hyunjin," you shrug, mumbling, trying to guide your best friend. "Don't ever use the not all men tag, please."

He slaps a hand over his mouth, realising his error, again apologising and you stretch your hand forward quickly to protest, "No, no," you tell, "You don't have to apologise. I just hope you know how it sounds."

"I do," he falls back, lying down against your mattress. "I do and I hate that I accidentally said it."

You follow suit, and fall on the bed, hair splaying around, some falling on Hyunjin's face. He groans, moving the hair away and whining, "It got into my mouth, ew." You laugh.

Hyunjin speaks out, staring at the ceiling, "Whose fault is it that a relationship goes astray?"

"Still going to say the men," you look at the same spot he stares at. "They're—"

"It's a war."

"See!" You exclaim. "This is the issue with men. They cut us off all the time."

Hyunjin laughs, hand stretching out to hold your wrist to soothe you down and mumbling another apology, he continues, "This is a battle, Y/N; a battle that's aged long and has never come to a conclusion. The battle—"

"Get to the point."

"Look who cut me off now."

"Touché."

"Anyhow," he continues. "The battle between men and women."

"You definitely sounded like a prepubescent boy there," you look at Hyunjin. His skin is so clear, you notice, making a mental note to steal his skin care products later. He turns a second later to face you and he nods, "Don't care. Definitely going to win this."

"You wish," you let out a condescending laugh. "I'm going to beat your ass, Hyunjin."

"Kinky," he smiles that stupid, toothy grin of his, "I likey."

"You gross pubescent boy," you shove at his arms only for him to quickly hold your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours in the midst of the squabble. You let him, still laughing lightly, lungs light and mind free from all the sad thoughts.

"I see that I've got an upgrade."

"You did."

You're about to thank Hyunjin for this small gesture that probably seems to be nothing when his phone rings from the other room. The scary unexpected track to Tokyo Ghoul's opening – Unravel – that you can't help but accept that you've grown to like, plays.

He lets go of your hand and jolts upwards, jumping off the bed. A small whine leaves your lips unexpectedly and Hyunjin smiles at that. He pulls up the blankets over your body that he shifted, mumbling, "You should sleep early. You had a tough day."

"No," you whine yet again, "Let's talk more—" His phone rings louder, the scream part of the ringtone jolting you up and your hand falls on your chest in shock. "Hate when your phone does."

"And yet you sing along to it," he sings, humming the tune.

"Pfft," you scoff, holding onto the blanket, scrunching it in your grip. "Go. It's probably about the practise match against Yonsei University."

He hums in agreement, folding the blanket again carefully, right below your neck, his cold hands brushing against your clavicle and the temperature difference runs a shiver down your spine.

Hyunjin switches off the light as he walks out, gently closing the door shut and you watch your best friend throwing a small smile at you before leaving. Did you really deserve all this care? Perhaps not.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, dashes out to get the phone before the caller cuts the call in frustration. He's definitely not spending the money to call back whoever it is. That shit is expensive. He jumps a couple of steps and grabs his phone, accepting the call before looking at the name of the caller.

"Hyunjin…" It's Lee Minho. "Can you come over?"

"I really want to throw a punch at you, you bastard."

And Hyunjin does. Virtually, of course. Over the game they are playing. He couldn't afford to injure a fellow teammate when the preliminaries are right around the corner.

"Bro," Minho sighs. "Can you go easy on me?"

His game character hits Minho's again, the energy bar of the other drastically going down on the screen. Hyunjin can't stop. The frustration that he has pent up over the last hour after seeing you cry and crumble over being dumped by his other friend drives him to the edge and he delivers another punch. Minho's character dramatically collapses as soon as the energy bar is empty and he drops the console by his side, pressing his back against the sofa, arms wrapped against his chest, pouting.

"I—"

"Go on," Hyunjin glares at him. "You better have a good explanation."

Minho runs a hand through his hair and sitting up straight, turning his torso to face Hyunjin, he tells, "I don't."

"You're lucky that we have a match soon, else you'd be six feet underground," Hyunjin sighs, throwing his hands over his head and folding it behind. "I can't believe you did that to Y/N."

"I fell out of love with her," Minho says. He doesn't dare to look at Hyunjin because he fears if the glares would actually result in him six feet underground. "Can't that be the only reason?"

Hyunjin chuckles, moreso at himself than at his friend, mumbling under his breath so low that Minho thinks it's just him humming, "Is it possible to fall out of love with her?"

He wishes Lee Minho could tell him how.

Hyunjin stands up, patting his denim jeans and looking at Minho, he warns, eyebrows furrowing, "I'll help her out with this. Just don't be a jerk and start dating in like two days."

"I—" Hyunjin glares at him. "Fine."

"Practice at seven," he adds and grabs the key of his motorcycle from the table before him. "Don't be late and act normal around Y/N."

"Fine, sir," Minho rolls his eyes. He won't admit it ever but the man warning him could be the reason for his breakup. That and his insecurity and fear of you cheating on him. But it's mostly Hwang Hyunjin. He knows how he feels even if you didn't.

Hyunjin walks out of Minho's house, closing the door on his way out and getting on his motorcycle, he rides back home to you. Just as he had promised you.

He opens the door to your room as soon as he enters his house, removing his shoes and placing it to the side, only to find his ears listening to the soft snores that let free from your lips. Carefully he walks towards you, his thumb and forefinger holding your chin lightly and tilting your head upwards to help you breathe properly.

He pauses for a minute just to watch you. Your eyebrows that you dislike so much just because according to you, it's not thick enough. He loves it however, even though you would never listen to him. Your eyelashes cast a gentle shadow on your high cheekbones and he gasps because you're so beautiful. You're so near to him and yet so far.

He bends forward, pushes your fringes to the side and places a soft kiss against your forehead, mumbling the words he wishes he could tell you straight up. Even if he did, you'd probably laugh and scoff at him.

"Beautiful girl," his lips graze the skin by your forehead, "You are a fighter. You have always been a fighter. You are stronger than you think. You are braver than you believe. Every challenge that life has thrown at you, you've conquered every obstacle that has been placed in front of you. You've overcome every single one of them. You are unstoppable and unbreakable and right now, you are filled with more faith than you have ever been."

Hyunjin pulls away, softly caressing the hair by the side of your face, "So please believe in yourself. You're worth so much love. So much of it, Y/N."

"The jerseys came!"

Bang Chan screams, a huge grin on his face as he opens the door for you. He runs to Felix and holds onto his shoulders before jumping up and down in joy. He is so delighted. "It looks so good, dude."

Hyunjin smiles, running towards you and helping you with the cardboard box. "It's alright," you mumble. "I'm the manager. It's my job."

"Pfft," he scoffs. "And I'm your best friend. It's my job." He picks the huge box that covers your entire upper half, easily and places it down before the coach and the team.

Jisung rushes to your side, nudging you with his elbow, "We've got a pretty good manager." He bends down and rips open the box, taking his jersey in his hand, "Number 13, bitches. Nothing shows what an amazing libero I am like the number most feared." You laugh.

"Number 10 isn't that bad, I guess." You hear Minho's voice break through the cluster of voices and your movements still. You turn your head to look at the brown haired boy who towers over you, wearing a smile so pretty that your heart still skips a beat.

"Hey, Y/N," he smiles. "Thanks for bringing this over."

"Uh," you fidget with your fingers, averting your gaze everywhere else besides at Minho. "I guess. It's my job, yeah."

Hyunjin notices. He always does. The boy runs towards you with his jersey. Number 1 printed in big behind. The setter brings the jersey so close to your face that it's buried in the fresh opened shirt. "Number 1, of course," he laughs, scrunching the shirt in his hand as he raises both his arms above.

"Oh, shut up, Jinnie," you laugh.

"Yeah, shut up, Jinnie," Jisung echoes. The middle blocker, though not the tallest in stature, is excellent at his position and has the biggest love-hate relationship with your best friend. He folds his arms and mocks Hyunjin.

Hyunjin places his right hand down on Jisung's head, ruffling his hair after pressing down on it. He scolds the older boy, "Don't call me Jinnie. Y/N's the only one who gets to call me that."

"Stop gathering around people," The captain claps his hands together to gather all of your attention. You quickly rush to his side and he smiles at you warmly, before looking at his team and glaring at each of them as they gather around him. "Yonsei University was kind enough to arrange a practice match with us thanks to—"

"Y/N," Jisung shouts, pivoting his arms by their sockets before lifting them both high above his head, cheering for you.

"Don't cut me off, Han," the coach shoots daggers at him, frowning visibly at the disobedience. "One more time and you're running around the gymnasium twenty times."

Jisung groans, only after winking at you. You chuckle under your breath, covering your face with the notepad in your hand. Hyunjin rolls his eyes, nudging Jisung to 'keep it in his pants' in the scariest voice ever. You could feel the dark clouds around Hyunjin, the aura darkening for a split minute before he breaks out into a huge smile as he looks at you.

The coach instructs out commands; strategies to help the team win against Yonsei. Moves that he's studied after watching their matches. You know this because you watched Hyunjin do the same at home. He does it at odd timings though.

You would wake up at three in the morning to grab a glass of water and you'd find your best friend squatting in front of the television as he watches every single one of Yonsei's matches. He wouldn't listen to you telling him to go to sleep because, "Being the captain is hard, Y/N. The whole team's banking on me to set the ball perfectly at the right time. I can't..."

And you understand. You understand the worries that go around in his head, the anxiety of being the best because he's no genius. He got to the top, made a name for him all thanks to his hard work and if he needs to keep it — he won't have it any other way — he swears to god that he would practise and study till he drops dead. Hwang Hyunjin loves volleyball that much.

So, you do what any friend would do.

You would make two cups of coffee, one for him and one for yourself. You sit next to him and watch the match with him. Your head lays back against the soft material of the sofa, just watching Hyunjin's eyes fixed on the screen, studying each movement of every player, gasping occasionally at how the setter of Yonsei's team leans his head back to decoy the opposite team only to dump the ball.

You don't remember much from that night because you fall asleep way too quick in the silence and in the presence of a focussed Hyunjin, your cup of coffee half empty. You don't remember anything from that night besides the fact that you woke up in your bed the next morning, or more like, Hyunjin waking you up the next morning because you overslept. Either ways, you were back in your bed and for that, you were grateful.

And as soon as the coach is done with the instructions, the team members scramble before splitting themselves into two groups, first to do serves and then perfect shots and finally, have a practice match.

You sit next to the coach, watching each and every member. That's what the previous manager told you to do. To observe. That's what the manager must do. To observe so well that you know each member well enough to know how their mind works, how their personalities are and who they truly want to be.

This is exactly why you can't seem to ever hate Lee Minho. Because you've seen him on the court, at his very best.

He's the best darn middle blocker you've ever seen. He doesn't tower that much over people with his height but when he jumps, lifting off his feet, he is as good as a wall cemented and strong before the opponent. He has only got better with every practice match and you realise that he wants to be better. And that's how he truly is. The constant urge to do better than the person he was before and perhaps, to Minho, you are someone he wants to leave behind in the past.

There's no one to blame here and you realise that it's a lot better if you accept the truth before it hurts you more than it should.

But then, in a second, Hyunjin takes your attention away whole heartedly. The boy arches his body so beautifully as he sets the ball for Jisung who slams the ball over the net with such force that leaves you gaping, notebook slamming your thigh. The coach stands up, his heels slamming the ground first before his toes do and he is as stunned as you are, eyes wide.

Funnily, Jisung's surprised too.

"We did it!" He says slowly, his words gradually making sense to him and when it does, he rushes to him, holding his shoulders and jumping ecstatically, "Hwang Hyunjin, we fucking did it!"

"When did you guys practice that?" The coach cuts the commotion short with his question. Hyunjin turns to face him along with Jisung, scratching the back of his head. Jisung is so overjoyed that he rushes to the coach, "Today morning! It sounded delusional but we pulled it off, coach."

You look at Hyunjin, who turns his attention back to you as soon as the coach is scrambling off to tell more instructions to Jisung on how he should time it a little bit earlier to hit it with even more impact. You smile, giving him a thumbs up and Hyunjin laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Are you guys finally dating now that Minho's out of the picture?" Chan nudges Hyunjin. The man stumbles a step forward on impact only to quickly look at the older with eyes so wide that he wonders if it were possible.

"What?" He splutters the words out, voice haphazard after the cough.

"Everyone in the team thinks you guys should," Chan shrugs and Hyunjin's face morphs into that of seriousness almost instantly and shoots the other male with, "Did Minho hear of this?"

"Perhaps," Chan catches the ball Felix throws at him. The coach claps his hands to bring the attention back to him, barking out orders to resume the game. Chan pats Hyunjin's shoulders, "You know what we always tell, Hyunjin, in this sport—"

"Take the shot when you see the opportunity."

"Exactly."

"Or someone's going to block again," Chan sniggers and looks at Minho, who was trying his very best to avoid your gaze, "This time round, it could be someone better than our middle blocker."

You're picking up the volleyballs lying around when the guys go to shower and change, dribbling them slightly and smiling to yourself. A figure towers over you as they drop a ball into the huge bucket. You turn around to look up at Minho.

"Can we speak?"

"Do we have more to say?"

"I guess," he shrugs.

"We can still be friends, Minho," you sigh, eyes closed. "I also won't be those annoying types to tell Hyunjin to stay away from you because you broke up with me. You should know better."

"I didn't mean that," Minho looks offended. "I wanted to apologise. I should have tried harder perhaps."

"You should have."

"I know," Minho sucks in his lower lip. "I really should have but you know—"

"Lee Minho," your voice is firm. "I've told you a gazillion times that Hyunjin and I are just friends, Minho. Somehow you made up this sort of weird thing in your head so don't drag me into this mess. This is yours."

Minho scoffs, "You're going to eat your words soon," and picks up another ball. You remember the task you had forgotten in the heat of the moment, rushing to pick up a ball to put it back. The rest of the team is slowly making their way outside.

"I doubt," you sigh, throwing the last ball into the bucket and dusting your hands together. Jisung's darting towards you, hands in the air. Minho moves to the side, gliding against the floor, making way for the shorter man to reach you, bubbling with such enthusiasm you wonder what the cause of it is.

"Felix is treating us!"

Ah, so that's the reason. You smile at Jisung, nodding your approval. You push the bucket to the side of the gymnasium with Minho's help and switch the lights off as the team exits the gymnasium.

"Lee Minho!" You hear a feminine voice through the air, your eyebrows quirking upwards automatically. Hyunjin walks to your side, sighing as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his sports jacket, mumbling so softly that you barely catch it, "I warned that asshole, God damn him."

Minho's face lights up in a way you haven't seen in a while and your heart is heavy. The woman, Irene — you hear Chan shout her name and wave at her — locks her arm with Minho's and walks with him, the man doing nothing to push her away. It shouldn't affect you. Not anymore now that the two of you have broken up and yet it hurts.

Hyunjin quickly pulls you away, preventing your eyes from lingering further even a minute more. His hand holds yours and he drags you to his motorcycle. You look down, biting the insides of your cheeks, alternating between the right and left every time you taste the copper of the blood.

"Your hand is so small," Hyunjin says. "Like look at how it fits into mine," he laughs, lifting your hand upwards as he clasps it tightly. He mumbles, "So small."

You break into a smile, watching Hyunjin tease you, momentarily drifting from the thought that upsets you and it leaves you wondering how Hyunjin does it all the time. He lets go of your hand, ruffling your hair as he bends lightly, "You've got this."

He quickly turns on the heels of his feet, pulling out the keys to his bike and igniting it. You hear Jisung scream from behind, "I thought you were taking me with you!"

Hyunjin screams back, "Carpool with the rest. I'm taking Y/N."

He lifts his leg, straddling the bike as he holds onto the handles, kicking the support free. He turns towards you and tells you to hop on and you do as he says. Your fingers hold his jacket, making sure you're not hugging him from behind. Minho's words run in your head and Hyunjin notices this small gesture of yours but he pays no heed. After all, it's been a while since he realised that what he has with you is better when it's platonic. He is too afraid to lose you.

"Jinnie," you tell him as he starts the motorbike, accelerating behind Jin who leads the way. You hear your best friend scream, "Yeah," through the loud winds that hit you.

You lean forward and speak closer into his ears, your jaw hitting his helmet, "Remember how I said the guys are to be blamed in a relationship."

"Yeah," he hints at you to proceed.

"Here's my first point. Minho back there," you point out. "It was that easy for a guy to move on. That easy," you stress your word. "While I'm here repenting if there was any way to get things back to where it was. However, there's no use in me trying because there's Minho with Irene like our relationship was a thing in the past."

"That doesn't mean he didn't care about you during the relationship. That's how guys are. They give it their everything when they're in the relationship," Hyunjin reasons and you laugh sardonically.

"You're kidding me, right? The girl definitely cares more. It almost seems so easy for the guys to break up and move on. Remember the time when you broke up with Lisa," you speak, raising your tone a little more so that Hyunjin can hear you. The motorcycle moving against the wind causes your hair to touch your mouth and you're spitting hair out facing the side. Hyunjin laughs, his grip on the accelerator tightening as he speeds up just a little bit, causing you to hold onto his jacket pockets a little tighter.

"Bro," Hyunjin mutters when you bring up Lisa. "I cried enough when she broke up with me, okay?"

"You did, for a day or two," you state. "The girl cried her heart out for a whole week. You went partying that Friday with Jisung!"

"Are we now using quantitative measurements to determine how deep our care and love is?" Hyunjin gasps, sounding very offended. "This reminds me why most relationships don't work. Because girls are shallow as fuck."

Hyunjin accelerates, missing sight of the speed breaker in front of him. It hurls you onto his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist to keep you safe. A soft scream leaves your lips as the side of your face buries into his broad back.

"Sorry," Hyunjin apologises quickly. "Didn't see that!" Hyunjin prays that you don't move your arms away but you do and he sighs, face falling. He is glad that you can't see him. Your hand is back to gripping his jacket and head back in this battle of words you're currently having with your best friend.

"It's okay," you tell him. "What's not okay is how you think women are shallow."

"They are!" He takes a turn to the left. Your thigh muscles tighten as it straddles the seat, fingers digging into his side for support. "I mean, let's be real, sweetheart. You take an hour or more to get ready for college."

"Because I want to look presentable!" You hit his broad back and he chuckles.

"Lies! You're shallow!"

"Says the person who walks around shirtless at home and stares at the mirror, lightly touching your abs and saying perfect," you tease and Hyunjin turns to look at you for a minute with his eyes wide before he turns his attention back on the road.

"You saw that?"

"Of course. I see that every day."

"But you're watching the television, how?"

"Reflections," you state.

He's gasping. The motorcycle slows down as it reaches Pizza Alvolo. The pizzeria is adjacent to a pretty park and you can hear the birds chirp lowly right before the sun is ready to set. You jump off the motorcycle, dusting the denims covering your thighs and Hyunjin removes his helmet, hooking it to the handle securely.

The rest of the team are seated in the pizzeria already waiting for the two of you, waving at you as soon as you enter the place. You rush and sit next to Jisung who has been aggravatingly patting the seat next to him. Hyunjin sits opposite to you, next to Chan. He snatches the menu from him and the elder male whines at the behaviour.

You look around and notice that Minho hasn't reached the place yet. Not that it mattered to you. You will slowly learn to stop caring so much for a man and you will soon be able to look at him and think of only the fond memories and nothing more.

Or so you thought.

The minute you see Minho walk into the pizzeria, although not with Irene, you feel the ground slip underneath you. Jisung is nice enough — albeit not knowing of the whole pickle you are in — to hold your wrist and turn your attention towards the stack of pizza boxes that come your way as he gleams, "Pizza! Pizza! Pizza!"

You look away from Minho and toward the direction Jisung points before turning to look at Hyunjin who lets out a loud sigh. You know that he's clutching at his thick thighs, nails digging into it at the sight of your uncomfortability. Hyunjin knows it will take you days to get over this break up, maybe weeks and that as a good best friend, he should wait. He should understand.

But it frustrates him so much. The sight of you being in pain, in hurt because of another man — his other best friend at that — pisses him off way more than he thought it should at first.

Hyunjin quickly takes his phone out and you narrow your eyes at him, mouthing, "Rude. Put it back into your pocket." In a second, your phone dings and you take yours out. Minho sits by Jisung's side in that second, a seat away from you and your heartbeat accelerates. You unlock your phone to see a message from Hyunjin and you lift up your head, raising an eyebrow at him and he eyes at you to open the message.

Jinnie: do you want to leave?

Your eyes widen and your lips part slightly. You don't respond immediately, locking the phone and shoving it back into your pocket. You smile at Hyunjin, trying to signal that you were alright so far. Jisung opens the cardboard boxes of the pizza and squeals. Chan looks at the situation, analysing if it'd be bad for the team on a bigger approach. Hyunjin might be the captain but had it not been for Chan's guidance, the volleyball team would not have lasted a day more with the differences.

Felix announces, "Eat to your heart's merry! I might never treat again." He takes the first bite for courtesy's sake before telling everyone to join in.

The team laughs and Minho smiles, the skin by his eyes wrinkling and your heart stops to remember all the reasons you were so madly in love with this man. It is at this minute you realise it'll take you maybe a little longer than you thought, a little longer than a casual fling and a little lesser than a long term relationship. You should have known this is bound to happen the minute you allowed yourself to let your petty emotions take over.

And maybe, just maybe, it is the fact that you have to pretend to be alright with having Minho around you that makes this heartbreak pain ten times worse.

Surprisingly, Hyunjin already seems to know because he doesn't stop glancing at you after every bite of the slice he has in his hand.

You stretch your arm out to take a slice of the pepperoni pizza on the table at the same time Minho stretches his arms out to take one. Your fingers brush against his and you jolt your hand backwards, mumbling, "Sorry."

Jisung laughs without knowing and teases, "Why would you apologise for brushing your boyfriend's hand?" He takes a bite of his pizza and as soon as he finishes chewing, he continues, "I mean, you guys do nastier stuff and suddenly, you all are prim and proper, Y/N. Love the contrast you exhibit. It's beautiful. You guys could be at it every time I catch you in the gymnasium alone. Also, you're his longest relationship. You should pride yourself—"

Jisung is speaking and you won't look up. Hyunjin has dropped the knife slightly just to try and get him to stop, though in vain and Minho's looking at you. His eyes won't leave your frame and you just want to leave. It is too early for you to be alright with this. Way too early.

"Stop, Jisung," Chan tells him, reading the situation in the room.

"Why?" Jisung's laughing. Felix understands by now, seeing your face hung down and so does the rest of the team besides the man himself. You can't even come to be angry at Jisung because he seems so innocent, unaware of it all.

You spill the beans for your own heart's safety, "Minho broke up with me."

Minho doesn't shift his eyes at anyone else and Hyunjin holds the knife again, a little too tight this time. Jisung's smile turns instantly into a frown and he turns his head to glare at your now ex-boyfriend.

He doesn't bother to filter his words. "Why the fuck did you do that, you arsehole?" Minho turns to look at Jisung for a split second before his eyes are back at yours. You lift your head to lock gaze with him and you feel your chest tighten, eyes water and it hurts.

Everything seems so much more painful.

Chan says once again, his voice firm, ready to not listen to one more word of the conversation, "Stop it, Jisung. Read the room."

You stretch your arm out to have another bite of the pizza and everyone eats in silence. The room is pregnant with the most awkward silence you had been in your whole life. You take your phone out, unlocking it and finally replying to the message.

Jisung puts another slice of pizza onto your plate and you smile at him. Felix tries breaking the uneasy tension by talking about this dude he met in his neighborhood that was kind of cute. After sitting for another two minutes, you push your chair back to Jisung's surprise and stand up. Hyunjin stands up instinctively, his calves pushing his chair back and everyone at the table looks at the two of you.

Jinnie: do you want to leave?

"I just realised I have to do some grocery shopping," you laugh nervously. "There's absolutely nothing back at home. Not that Hyunjin would buy anything and keep, right?"

Hyunjin chuckles and everyone in the room knows quite obviously that you are trying to escape the scene. They are kind enough to let you. Felix asks, spilling the oregano seasonings on top of his pizza slice, "Is Hyunjin going with you?"

"Ye—"

"No," you cut your best friend before he can give his approval. "I'll go alone." You stretch your arm out, palm facing upwards, "Keys, please?"

"Don't hurt my baby," Hyunjin's sincerity is voiced and you laugh genuinely. Little did you know he meant both you and his motorbike. He drops the key to his motorbike onto your hand and you do a little cheer. Jisung mumbles, "Cute," before stuffing his face with pizzas.

"Have a good time, guys," you wish them and grab your bag, hanging on the chair. Jisung waves enthusiastically. Felix, Chan and the rest of the team waves too. You smile fondly at your team and walk towards the door only to find Hyunjin following you.

"What do you think you are doing right now, mister?"

"Can't I walk you out at the very least, woman?" Hyunjin gapes in dismay. He pulls open the glass door and you laugh.

"Sure thing," you say and walk towards his motorbike. Hyunjin leaves the door after stepping out, the glass door swinging back to shut itself. You swing your legs over his bike, straddling the automobile and dropping your chest slightly to balance the heavy vehicle.

"You sure you'll be alright?"

"Don't you trust your teaching? You taught me how to ride this thing. Don't worry."

You look over Hyunjin's shoulder to see Minho still looking at you, worry smeared all over his face and you feel your throat constricting again as you do your best to tear your eyes away from him.

Hyunjin takes a step closer, making sure everything's alright with the vehicle so that it doesn't endanger you. He places his hand over your wrist and you look at him in confusion, "Promise me you'll take care of yourself."

"I will," you laugh. "What are you? My daddy?"

Hyunjin stiffens for a minute before he lets go of all the inappropriate thoughts that fill him for a minute there before teasing you, "Do you want me to be your daddy?"

"Nah," you throw your head back. "You aren't that rich enough." You place the helmet over your head and look at him. Hyunjin taps your helmet and hugs you slightly.

"I'll see you at home."

You start the bike on ignition and look over Hyunjin's shoulder one last time to look at Minho, locking gazes with him before you pull yours away from him towards Hyunjin.

You look ahead, the clear road in front of you and turn the accelerator only after telling Hyunjin, giggling slightly,

"Sure thing, Daddy."

Hyunjin, on the other hand, is too caught up in his worry, eyes lingering behind the trailing presence of yours that finally disappears from his sight into a speck that fades away. In any other circumstances, he would have found your petite figure driving the huge motorcycle and you even calling him daddy, although in a teasing tone, insanely hot.

Right now, however, he just hopes you are safe. He wishes he could be by your side at every second.

Gaho's Stay Here blasts on the bluetooth speaker. Hyunjin pulls open the door only to find you lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling with the most emotionless face he has ever seen you with. His eyes dart towards the empty bottles of soju on the small table in the hall.

"Y/N?"

You sit up, looking at your best friend and your lip pucker out quickly pouting at the sight of him and you stretch your arms out wide, squealing, "Hyunjinnie. You are home."

Hyunjin walks towards you, plopping on the couch and sitting next to you. He quickly lifts his arm up, hand darting back and forth at the air to steer the smell away as he frowns at you, "You reek of liquor, dude."

You quickly hug him, wrapping your arms around his frame from the side and snuggling your face into his shoulder. Hyunjin stiffens under your grip and he looks down at your being with eyes closed and he realises that you might after all just be a small being in need of some loving. He wishes to be the person to do that. Hwang Hyunjin utterly and truly wants to be your person.

Hyunjin takes your phone to stop playing the music — Stay Here that's been currently playing on repeat for the twentieth time straight — and you whine against his skin, tickles running down Hyunjin's spine.

"Don't stop the music," you mumble and Hyunjin looks at you and your figure that hugs him securely, head snuggled by his neck, chin digging into the skin by his collarbone and all Hyunjin can focus on is his heart that is beating furiously against his chest.

"Y/N," Hyunjin's voice seems like an anchor to your woozy mind and you hug him tighter, gripping stronger on to his white shirt. You hum in response and Hyunjin continues, "Gaho's music doesn't seem very fitting for the minute."

You pull apart, your face morphing and changing into that of offense as you glare at him, mumbling, "Gaho is the only one that understands me." You play the music again, the bluetooth speakers blasting with the sad slow tune in the air and you feel the want to cry all over again.

You stretch your arm out to take a soju bottle from the table to down it all out when Hyunjin stretches out to stop you, his fingers wrapping around your wrists. He locks his eyes with yours and in the softest, most caring voice you've ever heard from him, he says, "Don't, Y/N. It hurts me too."

"Can I hold you?"

In a split moment, the room is filled with just the soft beats of Gaho's Start Over playing, your raspy breaths and Hyunjin's lost stare. His grip on your wrist tightens and your mind is far too intoxicated to think if this friendship could be ruined. Your heart is heavy, chest tight and you want someone to free you. Anyone. You are clawing at the imaginary wall all by yourself and anyone could be a help. Anyone that is not Lee Minho.

"Yes," and you fall on Hyunjin at the exact same moment he pulls your hand closer towards him. The timing seems to have lapsed on to each other. Your chest on Hyunjin's, eyes looking up at him as your arms snake slowly over his torso. You snuggle forward, rubbing against his body slightly and Hyunjin sighs.

To Hyunjin, the scene is a lot dramatic just because of the soft music playing and because you are drunk off your head according to him, barely able to make decisions. He just doesn't want to do anything that will make either of your friendships but right now, in this minute with you almost on top of him, locking your eyes in his, your arms around his torso, close enough to feel every part of your being, he wants to be drunk too.

Hyunjin wants to be drunk so that he can make a mistake. Hyunjin wants to be so drunk that he can't think just because he is a coward.

"Do you feel better?" He asks and you snuggle into his chest, burying your face into it as you hold him. Your lonely heart being comforted by just his presence and in the back of your drunk head, you know you feel a little bit more that causes your heart to flutter when Hyunjin cares.

You and Hyunjin are both cowards — two small people in this big world with big emotions unwilling to risk one status for another, over the fear of losing each other.

But Hyunjin wants to risk it tonight. After years of pining, he wants to risk this golden friendship he has shared with you for years now. You are the trigger, however. You lift your face away from his chest and crawl slightly towards him, pushing yourself against him. You look at him, lips pressed together and you stretch your right arm upwards to hold his face in your hand.

"Jinnie," your voice lets out his name in such an airy tone that it seems to disappear away even before it reaches his ear. His eyes are glassy and his heart is in his throat, eager in nothing but anticipation that is risen from all his hoping.

It happens as he has imagined. You lean forward so slowly that he pictures every second vividly and in an instant, your lips are on his. Hyunjin knows it should have felt wrong but God, save him — nothing felt more right than this.

You kiss him and his whole world falls away. It lingers, like a memory that stays behind. Your lips are slow and soft against him, comforting yourself and him in ways that words would never be. Hyunjin's hand slowly lifts up to rest below your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as your breath mingles only for a split second — one filled with hesitance and uncertainty — before you pull away, looking at your best friend.

It is just a second of a kiss. Something so small and insignificant to seemingly anyone else yet it means the whole world to Hyunjin. It is the whole world to Hyunjin because this is all that is needed to let him astray, hinge released of the stupid restrictions he has made up in his head over you.

Your small kiss is all Hyunjin needs to hold on to because in the next minute, he is pulling you towards him, hands cupping your face tightly and angling it to kiss you, encasing your lower lips in his as he moves against your coral ones. You let out a small gasp and run your fingers down his spine, holding him as close as possible until there is no space left between the two of you and you can feel the beating of his heart against your chest. Loud, clear and unknown to you that it beats for you in this minute.

Hyunjin's lips are slammed against yours, nearly knocking all wind from your lungs and you don't know if it is your feelings or Hyunjin himself. He presses his tongue to the seam of your lips and, the minute you let him in, he delves inside your mouth. Hyunjin kisses you like he thinks it is the last time he will ever be able to have his lips against yours.

Your arms move up his back and tangle around his thick, strong neck. In an instant, you pull away and arch up into his broad chest, moaning in the contact of body heat against your own, before you draw back into his lips. Hyunjin can feel the burn of hard soju in his mouth, thanks to you, and it rolls off your tongue into his, seeping down his throat and he can't hate it. There is a thrill in its own that Hyunjin knows stems from you.

If it was possible, Hyunjin would slow down time.

You pull back eventually only to hug him, humming against his neck, lips pressed against the soft expanse of his skin. Hyunjin's hand is pressed against your back as he pats you in a steady rhythm, instinctively humming to a tune that could calm you.

"Jinnie?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," and he feels your weight fall on to his shoulder as you snuggle closer into his neck, your warm breath fanning against him, sending shivers down his spine. "For everything."

Hyunjin holds you for a while, silence and nothing but your breathing that is soft music to his ears, till he hears your soft snores buzzing against his eardrums and he knows you have fallen asleep in his arms, against his chest.

The next morning, you find yourself magically in your bed, comforter on top of you covering every inch of you, head aching thanks to your reckless drinking last night with no memory of whatsoever that happened. Lightheaded you should have known better.

Hyunjin chooses to be a coward, the morning after.

The greens that cover the campus is the only other thing that keeps you sane in this university. The first being, the volleyball team. However, you don't know anymore if it is still, in the present.

You sit on the same bench before a beautiful fountain with a tiger head right in the centre, watching the vast basketball court. A place that holds way more memories to you now than it did a year before.

You shake your legs, feet pointing forward as you listen to music with about half an hour in your hand to waste before you head down towards the gymnasium to meet with the volleyball team. Besides few people that walk down towards their classes, the campus looks pretty stranded as you watch every single person stay happy in their sphere.

"Y/N," you hear your name being called out through yet another one of Gaho's songs and you lift your head up, to look at the person by your side, standing and providing you the shade they probably didn't intend to.

It's the man himself, the one who broke your heart for an explanation that made no sense to you. Lee Minho.

He stands tall, towering over you and your neck aches from looking up at him that you decide to stand up, removing the earbuds and placing it on the wooden bench, next to your phone.

"You're here." You gulp. "Aren't you supposed to be headed to the gym for practice?"

The fountain is everything you associate Minho with — moreover, it is perhaps the relationship with him that you associated the beautiful water fountain with. To see the very same man before you right now is needless to say surprising.

"I could ask you the same thing," Minho chuckles. He takes out a small cone of butterscotch ice cream and extends his arm, offering it to you. You smile softly, thanking him, sitting down back on the bench. "Can I sit here?" He asks and you nod, unwrapping the wrapping paper around the ice cream.

"Yeah," you tap on the seat by your side. You take a bite of your ice cream and Minho visibly flinches, mumbling, "Still the same."

"You broke up with me like two days back. What did you expect? A nirvana attained me?" You scoff. You take another bite of the ice cream, the sensitivity hitting your teeth and you hiss.

"Brutal," Minho chuckles darkly. You scoff, turning your head away and taking another bite of your ice cream. Minho opens his ice cream and you raise an eyebrow at him, mumbling, "You don't eat ice cream though."

"Thought you might want another one," he smiles and the thought of a second ice cream lights you up. "There you go smiling like a dork as always at the thought of it." Minho laughs and you bend forward to take it, your left arm stretching forward. Minho tugs it backwards and your body moves a little more to grab at it until it's too far for you, bringing you to your present position.

Your hand is on Minho's chest, his eyes locked in yours and you are surprised. This is not in your to do list and yet with Minho's grip on your wrist, you drop your ice cream as soon as he edges closer. His face is so close that you can see the perfect plump lips pout slightly, his face glistening in the bright sun and you gasp softly. It has been a while since he has been this close and he still makes your heart go livid within you, beating crazy.

He drops his ice cream in a second, his hands pressing forward to cup your face and pull you into him to kiss the living hell out of you. Your eyes widen, arms falling limp on either side as you stiffen.

"Can I try something?" He hesitates, iron grip on you.

"Try?" You look worried and the next minute, Minho is kissing you, his plump lips on yours for a while before he moves them against yours, taking hold of your lower lip.

It is an instinct. You choose to blame it rather on instincts. Your hand moves to grab the linen draping his arm as you hold it and kiss Minho back. It is as bitter as coffee thanks to all the memories that go along with it and yet — you find yourself drowning. You find yourself wanting more. You find yourself hoping if Minho could stay, if Minho could just pretend to love you, if not.

And it breaks your heart.

All over again.

A lone tear leaves your eyes and then another, till you are crying as you kiss him. A wet messy affair at its finest. Minho pulls back in surprise feeling the wetness against his skin. He cups your face and holds you, looking at you to check for damage — little does he know of the emotional one. Or maybe he does and he chooses to ignore. Typical Lee Minho.

"Did I hurt you?"

Your emotions take over, sanity pushed to the back. You are pulling yourself from Minho as he tries to hold you to calm you down. Your fist plummets down onto his hard chest once and then, for the second time till you are hitting him over and over again till you completely break down in front of him. Minho quickly pulls you into a hug, holding you close till you completely soak his white shirt with your tears.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you—" It's a repeated chant. Over and over again till you don't remember how many times you told Minho the same thing. Your mind goes insane with the overdrive of emotions. Did you like Minho still? You don't know. You don't know whether it's the familiarity of his hugs or his kisses or his whole presence that you crave or if it's his love.

"I'm sorry," he whispers and you accept because it's the first time an apology from Lee Minho sounded this sincere. "I'm sorry for breaking your heart." He snuggles into the crook of your neck, swallowed by guilt. Perhaps this is why one should never date their friends; because you lose something much greater.

"I hate you more now for kissing me here," you manage to say, throat rasp from the crying. "How could you stain this memory too? How dare you stain the memory of the location of our first kiss? It was supposed to be a bittersweet memory when I sit here and think." Minho is still hugging you.

"I'm sorry."

It is still bittersweet in a new way, you realise — the fact that Lee Minho kisses you for the last time, you swear to God, in the very same place he kissed you for the first time. The weather changed, the people around changed and the emotions changed. Even after all that, the fountain stays proud and mighty and bears witness to more new relationships and new heartbreaks. Nothing changes besides you. Nothing changes besides what we want.

You pull away from him. Sitting straight, facing the vast basketball court and the juniors playing the game, you make a decision, firm and determined. The soft pink petals fall down from the cherry blossom trees over the two of you and Minho looks at you, and then at the spilled ice cream. To see the boughs that were so bereft in the snow become so beautifully adorned should lift your spirits infinitely and it does slightly. Their scents diffuse in the warming breeze and you hold your head high to savour it.

"Let's stay away from each other for a while."

Minho's eyes shoot up, head lifting up to face you. He does not refute. After all, he knows he has to take a step behind after breaking your heart. What he does not understand is how the two of you could stay away from each other when your friend circles overlap to a large extent.

"How?" He finally asks. "How do I help you with that?"

"By doing just that. Give me space and time to get over you. I'll come back asking for your hand in friendship again," you smile. Your tear stained visage and the difficult smile you put forth is a funny combination but you manage to pull it off well, you'd say. "You don't have to take the first step this time. Let me do this on my own, Minho."

You stand up on your own, grabbing your earphones and your phone. Minho stands up, following suit and asks, "Are you leaving?"

"Yes," you turn only to look at him as you walk backwards. "And you have to head for practice. So get going. I won't have you mess up your performance by all means." You turn back and move ahead. From everything.

"You know I wouldn't," Minho screams back and the last syllable ends with a laugh. You lift your hand to wave and you leave, far, far away from him.

You now have an open wound to stitch back and you know you have to do it on your own.

Hyunjin's phone rings right when he decides to serve the ball. He drops the ball in surprise, the sphere rolling all the way to where his phone is placed. Chan groans, stopping his pace at the sound of the phone ringing, and yells, "Yah! Hyunjin, how many times should I tell you to switch off your phone?"

Felix walks in exactly at that minute, laughing, "Anyone from outside would totally think Chan's the captain!"

Hyunjin runs to his phone, his blond hair strands falling forward, ponytail swinging left and right. Felix laughs at the sight, walking towards the ball and picking it up before throwing it at Chan who catches it swiftly. Hyunjin sees your name on the phone, eyes lighting up instantly and a smile prominent only for Chan to announce, "It's Y/N."

"Of course, it is," Felix scoffs. "Where's the rest of the guys? I thought you said we were to come early—" Felix pauses, eyes widening and gasping, "Hold up! Y/N is late. Whoa!"

"They are probably running towards the gym right now," Hyunjin says before picking up the call. He mouths to the rest, "It'll be short, I promise," and pouts. Chan sighs, only to smile and wave his hand at him to take the call.

"Y/N," Hyunjin cheers up instantly. "Where are—" He hears a choked sob from the other hand and Hyunjin stiffens, face losing the smiling in a second. "Are you alright?"

"I am," you strain it out. You barely manage through with the chokes and that pain that ripples through in waves but you eventually find the words to tell him, "I won't make it to practice today. Yeah?"

"Where are you?"

Hyunjin is angry and he doesn't even know who it is aimed at. He is just beyond mad at the fact that you are crying and someone made you cry. The thought of the skin by your eyes aching and eyes red and burning over anyone made him so angry that he could punch a wall through.

"I'm not telling you," he hears you say and he clenches his fist.

"Stop being a brat, Y/N," he stresses and Chan gestures at him, asking if there was something wrong. Hyunjin nods. "Where are you?"

"Leave me alone, Jinnie," you tell him through the phone, "Please," and his eyes widen before he calms himself down, realising that you are trying to cope all alone, a pathetic self-destructive quirk of yours that he had learned to live with after all these years. He gulps and realises you truly needed time alone and he hums in approval.

"Please reach out to me when you need me," he begs. "Please, Y/N."

Felix and Chan are staring at Hyunjin in worry when the door to the gymnasium opens and Jisung rushes into the room. He is panting and he looks around, searching for someone. Hyunjin turns away, his attention back on the call in his hands and he ends the call quickly, making a note in his mind to check up on you after practise. Not that you would let him miss practise. (Not that Hyunjin would do it to himself in the first place. He'd kill for volleyball.)

He walks towards the rest when Minho walks in, black duffel bag on his shoulder. Jisung is quick on his feet as he runs towards the other man, hands on his shoulders and he shakes the living hell out of him.

"He's gone crazy, dude," Felix mumbles and Chan laughs.

Hyunjin stays at a comfortable distance still, looking at his phone in worry every now and then. The man lifts his head and brings his attention back to the present only when he hears your name leave Jisung's mouth.

"Whoa, dude. You got back together with Y/N?"

"What?" Chan is the first to respond. "You did what?"

"I didn't get back together with her," Minho says, his voice is monotone and lacks anything more than nonchalance and it pisses the hell out of Hyunjin who has his fists still clenched tightly.

"I saw you kissing her but. . ." Jisung drops the bomb all at once in such a lost way that he doesn't realise the impact it was to have in this large gymnasium.

Hyunjin is charging forwards all at once, yelling, "You bastard," as he throws a punch at Minho. The blond dyed man is quick to put two and two together and realise that you are after all, crying because of the black haired man before him.

He pushes him back, Minho hitting the floor and Hyunjin's on top of him, punching him with his clenched fist, mind void and painted in hot red anger. Minho has his arms, blocking his punches and chooses to play on the defensive side.

In fear, we are all monsters. Hyunjin believes that he would be afraid of himself had he astral projected and looked at himself in this minute, all unhinged because of one girl — one girl he would set the world on fire for.

All that rage comes out faster than magma for Hyunjin and is just as destructive. More so because he's the captain. It consumes all that he is, so delicate under that carefully ordered world and carefully put up feign that he is alright with Minho breaking the heart of the girl he loves. Minho shrivels before him but Hyunjin does not stop. He relentlessly keeps going, stopping short of physical violence but doing far more damage with the words that he throws.

Chan tries to pull Hyunjin away as Jisung drags Minho from underneath him. The black haired man is left with bruises and a busted lip. On the other hand, Hyunjin is still fuming, along with Chan, sporting a few cuts from Minho who decided to throw a few punches in the last moment.

"Can you all stop?" Felix sighs.

"Why would you bastard make her cry again?" Hyunjin raises his voice. He's yelling at this point, loud enough for everyone passing by the gymnasium to hear. "Why the fuck would you make Y/N cry again? I told you to leave her alone!"

"This wouldn't have happened if things went different—" Hyunjin tries to rush forward to hit him again upon hearing his words, but Chan and Changbin, another teammate, have a strong grip on him. His blond ponytail lashes in anger and he fights against the two, trying to let go of himself. Minho yells back, "I would have never broken up with her if you never liked her, Hyunjin."

"What?" He stops still in his tracks, limbs falling and Chan lets go.

"How am I supposed to think it's alright for you to randomly stare at my girlfriend with heart eyes? For fuck's sake, you guys hug way more than I hug her," Minho glares, chest rising up as he vents everything he has bottled up so far. "If you had always liked her, you should have told me! I shouldn't have overheard it from Chan telling you to ask her out." Chan's face pales visibly. "I would have tried making her stay. I would have made her stay. I would have," Minho's voice lowers. "I still did, but I was too late."

Hyunjin has no words to refute. His eyes widen and his heart is in his throat, barely being able to say, "You could have taken it out on me. Why would you drag her into this? She loved you. She still wavers because of you. Your faithless love was the only hoax she was forced to believe."

Jisung pouts in awe at the words Hyunjin spills and Minho mumbles, "I don't know. I couldn't think straight."

Felix drops the ball with force, suddenly. The ball squelches before raising high and hitting the wall with impact. He folds his arms and speaks up, "Stop acting like kids." He points at Minho. "You, stop putting the blame of your failed relationship on Hyunjin. Him liking Y/N did not ruin your relationship. You killed it yourself."

"But he—"

"I liked her even before you made a move on her. Nothing has changed, Minho," Hyunjin inhales sharply.

"It's because you're a coward, you arsehole."

Hyunjin closes his eyes, looking away, mumbling, "Not going to even bother denying that. I'd be dating her if I wasn't this scared of losing her."

Felix proceeds to point at Hyunjin, glaring sharply at him, "You call yourself a captain? We have a match in a few days and you decide to lose control and beat up your teammate? One of the best middle blockers out there! What in the world are you thinking, Hyunjin? Jesus Christ, when Y/N hears of this, she's going to beat you up so bad for doing this to him in the name of the team."

Hyunjin doesn't dare to look up at Felix, shuffling the balance of his body from one feet to another. He is embarrassed. He should have never let his emotions take control of his body and yet he did.

Chan walks towards Felix before announcing, "We'll start practice in five. I want the two of you to sort this out by the end of this day. If you haven't, I don't want either of you coming to practice tomorrow."

"I'm the setter!" Hyunjin protests.

"Jeongin can do a darn good job too, so shut up and listen to me well."

"Now," Felix claps his hand, smiling once again brightly before running to pick up the ball. "Let's practice like the perfect team we are!"

"And like I couldn't stop myself. It's like something dragged me to move forward and the next thing I knew, I was on top of Minho—"

"Fuck, that'd be hot."

"Y/N, focus. And like I was beating the crap out of him."

You dab an alcoholic swab over the small wounds on his face as he seethes in pain and you sneer, "Deserved it."

"Ouch," Hyunjin fakes offense. "Side with me at least now. You aren't dating him anymore." You stop, your hand midair and you dab constantly over his wounds till Hyunjins screaming, "Ow, ow, ow. I'm sorry," and holds your wrist and pulls it away.

"But you messed up your team dynamics just because of your anger," you frown. "You and Minho better sort it out quickly, Jinnie. Else, I swear to God." You glare at him.

"What will you do?" Hyunjin laughs, scrunching his nose and teasing you. You place the bandaids over the wounds and raise an eyebrow. Hyunjin prompts, "Bite me?"

"I will," you warn and Hyunjin scoffs, "As if."

You bite him. His shoulder, to be exact. Your teeth hold onto his socket for a good one minute tightly till he is yelping, hitting your back to let go of him as he hisses in pain. You let go of him and narrow your eyes at him. Hyunjin is shocked. So shocked that he blankly stares at you with his mouth wide open.

"Are you a dog?"

"I could be one if you taunt me too much."

"Wow," he blinks and you poke the insides of your cheek with your tongue. "Wow, you're truly one of a kind." And Hyunjin breaks down laughing, holding his shoulder with his hand and bending forward overcome by intense laughter.

"Buy me mint choco," he prompts. "Because now you injured me and I want compensation."

"Excuse me?"

Hyunjin pushes himself forward, edging closer to you, looking you in your eyes before saying, "You know you have to," in a low guttural tone that your heart does a whole somersault, triple axle and then lands with an ovation. "You hurt me."

You push him away and you leap onto your feet, your eyes wide and your hand over your chest. Hyunjin looks at you with a raised eyebrow. To change the mood of the situation, you quickly announce, "Fine. You'll get mint chocolate only if you get ready and come out in five minutes. Else you pay for it on your own."

Hyunjin stands up and holding your wrist, he pulls you with him to the door. You look at him in utter confusion and ask, "What are you doing?"

Hyunjin stops in his tracks and turns to look at you, blond strands leaving his ponytail to cover his eyes slightly and pink lips so plump that you wonder how they feel. The realisation that you have started viewing your best friend as someone more than just that hits you and you look down instantly. When did this happen?

"I'll just wear a coat and so should you," Hyunjin laughs. "Ice cream can't wait."

People think of laughing as a noise that comes from the mouth more often than not, but when Hyunjin laughed it was nothing like that. The laugh is in his eyes, in the way his face changes into that vision of relaxed joy and unrestrained mirth. And yet, in all honesty, it is not in his face either. His laugh comes from within, it is just the way he is wired with the instant ability to comfort someone. Just the sound of his gales, his snickers, his giggles, was enough to transport you far away from all your worries and the tension your life has in the minute.

Enough to make you forget that you have to tell him today about the decision you have taken.

Hyunjin and you walk down the stairs and off onto the road in five minutes as planned. The cool air of the night hits you and you hold yourself closer, the long coat held tightly to your body surface. Hyunjin laughs before wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close by just a little bit and yet enough to share his body warmth.

"Mint choco, here we come!" And he runs with you.

The thing with your stupid heart is that you don't understand why it is beating so rapidly in this moment, your heart beat easily jumping to more than 95bpm and all because Hyunjin holds you. You look at the man by your side, his blond hair moving with the air, exposing his face and you wonder — had Hwang Hyunjin always been this beautiful?

You have known Hyunjin for a long time now. Too long for you to realise that your heart had a change in its plans for emotions recently. You have known Hyunjin way too long to know that you want him for a lifetime by your side, as a best friend at the very least and the thought that if you did act upon your new emotions that you have just discovered in this cold, breezy night, you are screwed.

Hyunjin turns to look back at you after hearing absolutely no sound from you. His face pales when he realises you are looking far ahead and he wonders if you do remember now. If you remember the drunk night.

So he asks to put himself at ease, "Y/N?"

"Huh?" You jolt up to consciousness, looking properly at Hyunjin. "Yeah?"

"Do you remember the night a few days back?"

"Night? Few days back?" You ponder. "When I was drunk?"

"Yeah," Hyunjin mumbles and you raise your body in anticipation, finally wanting to ask about the magical teleportation.

"Now that we are on this topic," you fold your arms and raise your eyebrows at your best friend. Hyunjin shuffles his balance from his left to his right. "Did you carry me to bed that night?"

Hyunjin chokes on air, sputtering out incoherent words before finally forming one proper sentence, "You knew?"

"You're the only other person I live with and I don't have any recollection of going to bed so like I presumed," you look down, heat rising to your cheek and you fidget with your fingers. "That you carried me to bed."

"That's all that you remember?"

You lift your head up, lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed, "Is there more?"

"Uh," Hyunjin turns back to face forward, his broad back in your vision again as he walks forward to the ice cream parlour by the junction.

"Hyunjin?" He walks quicker. "Yah! Hwang Hyunjin!" You follow him with quick, short strides, almost jogging up to him. "What did I do, Jinnie?" He opens the glass door to the ice cream parlour. "Yah, Hwang Hyunjin, tell me no matter how embarrassing it is." You follow him into the white aesthetically pretty place.

You finally catch hold of his coat and tug at it. Hyunjin turns, his cheeks flushed and you wonder what in the world happened that night. Yes, you have vague memories of hugging Hyunjin and passing out, but for him to act like this — wait, you didn't empty your stomach out on him, did you?

"Did I—" Hyunjin's eyes widens. He turns back, his attention on the man behind the counter and he points towards you.

"She's paying."

"Okay," the man nods and turns to look at you, waiting for your order. You sigh, glaring at your best friend before ordering one quantity of mint chocolate ice cream. Your eyes waver to the green ice cream and you frown in displeasure, something Hyunjin catches sight of your expression.

"How dare you?" He folds his arms, dramatically. "The only people that matter in this world are the one that like mint chocolate." The man at the counter smiles at the two of you.

You open your mouth, clicking your tongue, "I'm not paying money to eat toothpaste."

The man behind the counter laughs out loud and Hyunjin glares at him, scoffing. He takes the ice cream from his hand and waits for you to pay. The tall man looks at the two of you, again, before finally telling, "Good luck on your relationship. It's always fun to see couples have an argument over mint chocolate and still be so in love with each other." He turns to look at Hyunjin only, "For your information, I like mint chocolate."

Both Hyunjin and you look at each other, either of you waiting for the other person to disagree with the man but there is just silence. You can feel Hyunjin looking at you through the corners, waiting for you to refute like you always do. You don't and you do not even know why. The heat builds up beneath the apples of your cheek and the thought of being in a relationship with your best friend strangely brings about a wave of calmness within you, doing its best to shove the uncertainty of so many things away.

"Thank you for the ice cream," you say and walk to an empty table. Hyunjin thanks the man too, and follows you, sitting on the seat opposite to you and places the mint chocolate in between.

He watches you, unsure of the situation and you bite your lower lip nervously before shoving the cup closer to him and mumbling, "Eat. We came all the way here for you."

"You should have gotten another ice cream," Hyunjin frowns.

"It's past nine," you laugh, your hair falling over the chair as you lean back. "I can't let fat into my body after nine. You know that."

"Why do I know you?" Hyunjin puts his hand on his forehead looking at you and then he pushes the cup of ice cream towards your side. "Disappointment." You look at your best friend, disgusted and he won't take the disrespect though.

"It's a refreshing taste," he digs in and takes a big bite. "Plus, it's the right balance." He lifts the spoon with a small amount of the mint ice cream and shoves it right in front of your face. "The perfect amount of mint, chocolate and milk to make the world's most perfect ice cream."

You push his hand away and glare, "Why would you ruin two beautiful sweets," you raise an eyebrow, "Chocolate and ice cream by including," you fake a gag, "Mint?"

"Because mint balances the sweetness of the chocolate," he scoffs. "All you mediocre people won't understand. Mint chocolate was created for the elite class."

"Did you just call me mediocre?" your jaw drops and Hyunjin laughs. It's soft, airy and so carefree that you don't mind the fact that he is laughing at you and not with you. You don't mind one bit when you break down and laugh with him, unable to keep your face straight as you lean forward on the table, your head resting on your hands and you watch Hyunjin.

You decide to tell him of your decision in this minute.

"I'm going to make Seungmin manage the team," you tell Hyunjin and he stares at you, the spoon dropping from his hand and clattering against the glass rim of the ice cream cup. You continue, "He's always wanted to manage the volleyball team and I thought I should let him—"

"Why?" He sounds hurt. Disappointed, in fact and your heart plummets down.

"I thought it's time to move on."

"From the team or Minho?"

"Minho," you say, nibbling on your lower teeth. "I want to go back to him—"

"What?" Hyunjin feels his heart sink.

"Don't cut me off, hoe," you click your tongue. "I want to go back to him and be his friend. I'm not ready to ruin a friendship over this. I just won't."

Hyunjin looks down at his cup of ice cream. His spoon digs into the cold dessert over and over again till he realises that he'll do what he has always done for you — be right by your side as your pillar.

"Feed me," Hyunjin prompts and you stare at him with a void expression, mouth still open, wondering if he suggested this only and only to change the topic. Hyunjin stretches his arm out to shut your mouth. "People are going to think I'm starving you here."

"Whoa." You lift your head up. "And if I do that, people are going to think we're possibly the cutest couple out there still in our glorious honeymoon phase of it."

"Okay," Hyunjin shrugs and leans back against the chair, folding his arms against each other.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine with that."

You sit up straight and look down before finally saying, "Don't say that."

"Say what?"

"Those words that make my heart flutter. I don't know what to feel, Hyunjin." Hyunjin is too stunned to react and whine over the fact that you called him properly by his name in your conversation. The fact that he too can cause your heart to race a little bit just like you have with his all these years. "Don't say them to me if you won't ever be ready to take responsibility over them."

You place your thumb and forefinger on your forehead, squeezing the skin slightly to calm the slight ache you can feel, the vein throbbing slightly and you know it is your anxiety that kicks in because you almost spilled everything out. You quickly stand up and holding your coat tightly, you look at Hyunjin who is still seated and looking at you intently.

"I need to go to the pharmacy next door. I'll wait for you there. Finish your ice cream and come."

You don't turn to look at Hyunjin as you walk out, slightly embarrassed by your own behaviour. Between you and Hyunjin, you are the one who had to keep your cool, making sure you didn't slip up or make a mess so that you could at least have time to clean his spilt milk.

You push the door of the ice cream parlour and walk out, the doorbell ringing at your push and you hold yourself in the cold breeze. If Hyunjin did not respond to it, it is only safe to presume that he feels nothing more towards you. You could at least put two and two together. Or so you thought till Hyunjin is chasing after you, big strides and dark blond hair in the wind as his rubber band comes loose and slides off a bit.

"Y/N!" He shouts and quickly holds your wrist, pulling you so quickly that you stumble forward into him. Hyunjin grips your arms to steady you and he looks at you, his brown eyes trying to peep into your soul. He smiles, hand running through his hair only to bring more strands forward, covering his vision.

Falling in love with Hwang Hyunjin, you realise, is the easy part. He makes it so easy to fall for him — when he smiles at the sun, covering his eyes or when he is covered by the dogs in dog parks all eager to hug him because that's how he just is. You don't even realise when you fall for Hyunjin but when you do, you know you are already sinking and you are far too gone for saving.

It is, however, admitting to yourself that you fell for your best friend that is hard. The Hwang Hyunjin that you have seen since the five year old boy moved next door to you. The Hwang Hyunjin that would cross dress in your clothes. The Hwang Hyunjin that would steal your dumplings. It is the same Hwang Hyunjin that you fall for. You had all these doors with specifications that opened to only men like Lee Minho and yet like the rude asshole that you oh so adorably love he seemed to tear them down. Or perhaps those doors were meant for others and Hyunjin always had a door of his own for your heart.

You should have asked yourself why but would it have really mattered? You're here with Hyunjin by your side, whether he knows your feelings or not and you couldn't be any less glad, even if you are sometimes hiding, imagining a distance instead of seeing Hyunjin right there.

"I'll come back, Jinnie," you tell him, looking up at him and coughing slightly, trying to move back slightly to put some space between the two of you. "I'm not running away. I just need to buy some strips of paraceta—"

"I want to be responsible for them," His gaze doesn't leave yours. "I want to be responsible for you, your emotions and everything you are, if you let me."

You wouldn't dare to shift your eyes away, or focus on anything else. Just Hyunjin. Just your Hyunjin. Your heart beats so fast against your chest that you wonder if it ever had this much for any man or woman. And when Hyunjin pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around your frame, hand flat against your head that buries your face into his chest, you learn that Hwang Hyunjin's heartbeat is always your metronome — the beat your entire life seemed to have moved smoothly to.

You giggle against his chest, breaking into a smile, "Are you asking me out, Jinnie?"

"I guess," he chuckles into your hair, snuggling himself into you. He pulls you back to explain. "My original plan was to ask you out after the practice match that I'll make sure we win, but you could possibly not be there as our manager and what if I miss the chance?"

"You lovesick boy," you laugh, smiling stupidly at him. Hyunjin cups your face and presses his forehead against yours.

"I've liked you for so long, Y/N," and you blush, lips pursed and you smile back, heart fluttering.

"Thank you," you press a kiss against his cheek.

"For what?"

"For being you and for always loving me."

Hwang Hyunjin holds your face and kisses like he is capable of getting rid of all your worries, slowly bleeding into your marrows and cells and soaking you of the very essence he is. He holds you like you are a precious being — and to him, you are because he finally has you after all these years; he finally gets to call you his.

His lips are warm and tasted of mint; obviously from the mint chocolate ice cream earlier. His hands are wrapped around your waist and yours are locked around his neck pulling him down slightly. His strands of blond locks brush against your face, ticking you slightly and you giggle into the kiss. He laughs against your lips before kissing you slowly, drawing the kiss for as long as he could. When you break apart for air, you lean forward and rest your forehead against his, gathering some much needed oxygen. His smile tells you everything you need confirmation over and you smile back, sinking into his hold.

Hyunjin hugs with gentle arms that still gives the space to breathe; yet it is the hug of a strong pair of arms that tells everything that you are - every fibre of your being - that he is with you, and you wonder how he is capable of that. How he is capable of holding like you are his whole world — like he rather hold you than anything else.

Hyunjin does exactly that. He holds you tight and close to him in this cold night, ignorant of everything else around the two of you, like you and him only mattered in the place, like you and him are fireworks in this velvet dark, the blaze that dares to light up the night.

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quirrrky · 5 years ago

Text

CHOOSE YOUR YANDERE ●_● HAIKYUU BOYS EDITION (Part 1) ✧

PART 2 ✧ PART 3

Here’s your new round of yandere selection featuring some of our hq boys! Reminder: I love ‘em boys and this is just for fun!

Rating: T+ Warning: Mild psychological triggers (mentions of kinks and stuff) Selected characters only ~(⊕⌢⊕)~

HINATA SHOYO aka THE ANNOYING TANGERINE (but still loveable tho)

This fella’ follows you all the time!

Asks you tons of questions and invites you to a lot things

Pretty persistent about getting your heart and making him a part of your life

Very chatty and energetic…Will never leave your side

If it’s possible, he’ll tie himself around you (please don’t inform him of this idea, he might actually do this)

Calls you when you finally gets home, he’ll climb your window if you won’t answer

Attempts of avoiding him is close to impossible

He’s like…everywhere

Literally threatens and challenges all the other guys who come near you (they better not!)

He’d do anything and everything in his power to win

He’s pretty delusional too thinking that you might actually like him back if he keeps on “trying his best” to win you

Tbh, he thinks you’re actually liking him back O_O

When you’re being hard to “talk to”, he has that look on his face like he’s so in it for the kill

Despite it all, he can never bring himself to hurt you

“Oh, Y/N. Why haven’t you answered my calls? I’ve been calling you for like…78 times already! I got so worried that I sneak into your bedroom. Hehehe~ I’ll talk to you ’til you fall asleep. Then…I’ll watch you.” Eyes wide staring into you.

Danger level: 40% Pet peeve: You avoiding or ignoring him

KAGEYAMA TOBIO aka THE CRUEL KING

He’s not called ‘The King’ for nothing, y’know

When he’s set his eyes on you, no one’s stopping this guy

At first, he was in awe of you and puts you in a pedestal like some kind of an idol or sum’n

You liked that about him add that he knows you like it’s natural

You thought it was a soulmate connection but think again!

Little did you know that he followed you and studied your every movement

Also knew your daily schedule and routine and imitated your way of life

Once he finally got you, the King shows up

He saw many errors in your way thus he wanted to bring out the “best” in you

Doesn’t hurt you tho, but he lacks consideration

Or he may actually hurt you at times when he got totally irritated

Loves pushing you to the limit…more than your body can bear (and it’s not volleyball we’re talking about here)

Will rile you up until you lose consciousness (doesn’t matter if you’re hurting or what)

You’re wondering where that stamina was coming from and…

Don’t think it sexy cuz you’re basically a slave here who just does what he orders you to do (unless you really like it, yknow)

Worst part of it all, you’re starting to like it and before you even know it, he got you all wrapped around his finger

“I’m doing you so good so keep up with my pace! Too slow! You’re too slow! Are you even moving?” He lashed out on you then followed up through his gritted teeth. “What are you saying you can’t feel your legs anymore? We’re not even getting there yet.”

Danger level: 50% Pet peeve: Your sheer incompetence

TSUKISHIMA KEI aka THE SCHEMING BLOCKER

This guy’s smart, so he’s probably planning an effective course of action to monopolize you without you even noticing it

No, he won’t eliminate anyone (not that we are aware of??? srsly, this guy could stage his innocence for a murder)

But he’s so good at setting you up that you can only see him

You will not know what makes you follow him around and he’s even acting so nonchalantly about it

You don’t know why but he has you begging for his attention

It’s all part of his intricate plan as he carefully analyzed your behavior

And telling your mind creeping into your subconscious what you should believe in

When he has you all under his control, he’ll waste no time to tease and deny you

This guy’s degrading kink gaming is strong

Will call you names, literally belittles you for his amusement (just bc he’s tall lololol)

Yet you kept liking it more and more

Until he’s seriously the only one on your mind and on your sight clearly blocking any aspect of this universe in your perspective BUT HIM

Loves playing you around

Secretly turned on when you talk back (it makes him want tease you even more)

“Oh, I never thought you like me that much, huh, midget.“ He evilly chuckled (it’s sexy don’t @ me) and grinned at you looking down. “What if I say I’m not convinced enough? What would you do? Ahh, don’t talk back to me with that stupid little mouth of yours. You might not like what’s gonna happen next…”

Danger level: 70% Pet peeve: Your stupid ass (but he kinda’ likes that too)

YAMAGUCHI TADASHI aka YOUR HUMBLE SERVER

Like Hinata, this guy will follow you around but…

He possesses a beyond normal amount of servitude (which will only show when you get to be with him for longer)

Worships you and offers to be your servant

For him, there’s nothing more beautiful and wonderful but you

It’s not difficult to like him back, he’s really adorable and gentle and normal (?)

Until, he’s gradually getting overboard with lowering himself before you

Very obsessed with you like everything he does is for you in an extremely overrated manner

Like if you’re a girl, he’s even more aware of your period more than you are

Even this sweet being can have a possessive side tho he seemed like can’t hurt anybody

You wouldn’t know it but people who try to cross you are shivering in their legs under his rather stealth intimidation

Will lie for you, steal for you and kill for you

Loves you that much he showers you with affection in a way you can never let go of him even if his moments of self-deprecation is disturbing

Adores you even more when you talk down on him

Even if you want out, you can’t cuz you’re scaredt of what he’ll do to himself if you leave (TT-TT he’s such a bean)

“It’s raining, you can use my umbrella if you don’t have one. I’m perfectly fine under the rain, it’s just a little drizzle. Oh there’s a puddle! Here, you can step on my-“ NO PLEASE DON’T! TT-TT

Danger level: 30% Pet peeve: Things and people that makes you uncomfortable

⁺˚*·✧ request guidelines ✧⁺˚*·

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blacktofade · 4 years ago

Note

pls oh god of fics pls grant thee touch starved Shane and oblivious Ryan in shyan ship *bows down* (i sent one before and donno if u actually got it cuz it showed error so im sending in another try)

I didn’t get your other ask unfortunately, but this is an idea I’ve been wanting to write like 10k for, but I know I’ll never have the energy. So it’s a little ficlet instead.

CW: Includes post-kidnapping, malnutrition, and an embarrassing lack of touching for a touch-starved prompt.

Shane disappears on September 17th. Ryan only remembers because they’d been scheduled to shoot an episode of Weird and/or Wonderful World and he’d had to eventually make the uncomfortable call to the Los Angeles County Arboretum and Botanic Garden to cancel their tour and interview.

It had been funny at first with Shane’s habitual lateness. They’d all assumed he’d slept late, forgot what day it was, and completely blanked on the filming schedule.

It’s less funny a week later when a missing person’s report is filed and Shane’s parents fly out to stay with Scott while they wait for any kind of news.

Detective Flores finds him two states over, a month and a half later. There are six hostages in total, as part of some elaborate heist that’s foiled before it comes to fruition. Shane’s kept in hospital for almost a full week, treated for malnutrition and a few general injuries, the news passed to Ryan through Scott via a DM on Instagram.

For the first time since Shane’s disappearance, Ryan sleeps through the whole night.

On the Saturday following Shane’s return, Ryan wakes to a phone call at eight in the morning.

“Hello?” he answers, voice rough from sleep, brain barely online.

“I’m sorry,” Shane apologizes, but his voice alone is enough to wake up Ryan the rest of the way. It’s the first he’s heard from him. He’d been trying to give the family space and knew Shane would find him once he was ready. Apparently, now is that time. “Can you come pick me up?”

“Sure,” Ryan agrees instantly, shoving back the covers and getting out of bed. “Where are you?”

“My apartment,” Shane admits and Ryan pauses from where he’s trying to dig out a pair of clean pants. “I just need a break.”

“Sure,” Ryan repeats. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

It’s quiet on the other end of the line before, quietly, Shane says, “Thanks, Ryan.”

Shane’s waiting at the curb when Ryan pulls up.

Ryan unlocks the door and watches Shane fold himself into his seat, waiting a moment for Shane to settle before reaching over to set a hand on his knee, squeezing gently.

“Hey man,” he says gently. “Long time no see.”

Shane startles at the touch, but glances over, offering a small smile in return.

He looks different. His face is thinner, his cheekbones a little more prominent, and there’s a new scar on the right side of his forehead that disappears into his hairline.

“Hey,” Shane replies, buckling his seatbelt and giving Ryan a view of his right hand, which has two fingers splinted together. “Thanks for coming.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

Ryan stares at him incredulously and eventually Shane looks away, out the passenger side window.

“It’s just hard being surrounded by everyone right now,” he says, clearly talking about his family. “I need a break.”

Ryan checks over his shoulder and pulls back onto the road.

“Is my apartment okay? Or did you want to go somewhere else?”

“Your place is fine,” Shane tells him, and from the corner of his eye, Ryan sees him turn his head, staring as though Ryan won’t notice.

At the next red light, Ryan glances over. “How are you doing?”

Shane looks away, clearly caught. “Getting tired of people asking me that. It’s all anyone asks these days.”

“Guess they just want to know you’re okay.”

Shane glances back towards him. “Could be better,” he says bluntly and Ryan can’t help but let out a quiet huff of laughter.

“Yeah, no shit. But the hospital cleared you?”

“Yeah,” Shane sighs. “Apart from a few broken fingers and some weight loss, I’m okay.”

“I missed you,” Ryan admits. “It’s probably the longest I’ve gone without seeing you since we started at BuzzFeed.”

Shane frowns like he’s thinking and then the frown deepens. “Jesus, you might be right.”

Ryan laughs again. “Horrifying thought, huh?”

“Puts things in perspective.”

“Didn’t you miss me?” Ryan asks jokingly, but Shane doesn’t answer, just laughs quietly.

“It’s weird,” Shane says. “I was never alone, but it feels like I have to relearn how to be around people now.”

Ryan had read the news after Shane’s rescue. There had been five others saved alongside Shane, so he suspects they might be the reason Shane wasn’t alone.

Ryan shrugs gently. “Adjusting is hard, and I’m sure it’s even harder with your family refusing to let you out of their sights.”

Shane shakes his head. “You have no idea. I was in the shower for twenty minutes this morning and they started knocking on the door to see if I was still alive.”

“Rough,” Ryan laments. “Well, you’re welcome to chill at my place for as long as you need.”

“Can I move in?” Shane jokes, but Ryan just shrugs.

“If that’s what you want.”

It’s silent for a moment before Shane says, “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Ryan offers him a smile. “Of course, dude. It’s what I’m here for.”

It’s quiet for the rest of the drive until Ryan pulls into his usual parking spot and glances over. “You good?

Shane nods and carefully unbuckles his seatbelt. “Yeah, I’ve got it.”

Ryan’s chest tightens watching Shane limp his way towards the front door, but he knows the last thing Shane needs is more helicoptering.

“Can I get you anything?” Ryan asks as he shuts the door behind them, watching Shane glance around as though he expects Ryan to have redecorated during his disappearance, but ultimately Shane shakes his head. “Okay, well, make yourself at home. You know the drill. I’m gonna go grab a drink.”

He knows Shane can find his own way to the living room, so he moves around him, heading in the direction of the kitchen instead.

“Ryan?” Shane questions and Ryan pauses, turning back.

“Yeah?”

Shane hesitates like he doesn’t know how to get the words out, but after a moment, he takes two steps closer and draws Ryan into a hug instead.

Ryan isn’t entirely expecting it. Shane’s not a touchy-feely guy, which means Ryan can probably count on one hand the amount of times they’ve hugged. But Shane folds around him so tightly that it startles the breath right out of him.

“I did miss you,” Shane mutters and Ryan lifts his hands to reciprocate, holding Shane as hard as he dares when everything feels so fragile.

“I was really worried,” Ryan admits. “I thought you’d been killed.”

He finds himself rubbing one hand along Shane’s spine, trying to soothe him as Shane tucks his face against his shoulder.

“You were gone for a long time,” Ryan continues.

He can feel the warmth of Shane’s breath through his shirt as he exhales shakily. “They broke my fingers when I tried to escape.”

Ryan holds him tighter, needing them both to understand that Shane’s safe again. Having the weight of Shane leaning against him is grounding in a way he never knew it could be. About a month into Shane’s disappearance, Ryan had gone through a mourning period, assuming he’d never see Shane again. He finds tears prickling his eyes as the relief hits him solidly in the chest.

“God, Shane,” he murmurs and he’s not sure who’s comforting who.

The warmth of Shane spreads through him, all the way down to his toes, like a cup of hot soup on a cold day. Except that Ryan never realized he was too cold until this moment. He feels alive and whole again, and he knows he can’t even begin to understand what Shane experienced. The fact that he can feel every ridge of Shane’s spine as his hand passes along it says enough.

When he finally starts feeling like Shane’s probably ready to let go, he loosens his arms and shifts, one foot lifting to take a step backwards.

“Just a little longer,” Shane requests and Ryan’s more than happy to comply, a noise of agreement escaping as he nods.

“I’ll stay here as long as you need,” Ryan tells him. “It’s just good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back,” Shane replies and tightens his grip again like he might never let go.

To be honest, Ryan’s okay with that. He holds on just as tightly and settles against Shane, finally feeling happy again for the first time in months.

#thing wot i wrote #fic #shyan #prompts 2021 #benaya-trash #benaya trash

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aleatoryalarmalligator · 4 years ago

Text

As you all may know, my mother is on a ventilator for covid 19. She didn’t believe in covid. I tried to tell her but she didn’t believe it. She tried to tell me some kind of Qanon bologne when I’d try to tell her. I would give anything to have more time with my mother. There is some signs of improvement in her feeling better but I am not wanting to become too hopeful. She was on the phone with one of my elder sisters for six minutes rather than two the other day. She was angry at her for letting her kids come in to her house knowing they had covid.

I’m very angry at her doctor who told her she didn’t need the covid shot, in fact just telling her she is healthy. She has a small body frame and is on the shorter side but weighs nearly three hundred pounds and struggles to get around. She’s 59 years old and works as a nurse at a nursing home and works way too hard on minimum wage, has given birth to six children, has always had asthma and is prone to bronchitis and pneumonia. She’s a prime candidate for covid, in fact she is who I thought about the day I remember reading about covid. It’s like this disease was designed to kill my mother.

They sent her to southern Idaho for a ventilator. She is lucky to get one. They’ve run out in many of these red states that didn’t take covid seriously enough. It does not bring me any joy that right wingers and people who didn’t believe in the shot are dying. I’ve had liberal friends say over simplistic things about people from red states getting what’s coming to them and so forth, and people have rejoiced at the idea of trump supporters getting sick and suffering and dying.

I am left leaning, but I never want to get so caught up in my political ego that I eradicate any notion of humanity to the people I don’t agree with or might not even like. Their pain and lives are real and legitimate as anyone else’s. Their families matter too. They are wrong, my mother is wrong. She’s been backwards about a lot of the world my whole life.

But she’s also a very kind person. She is always giving to people and has contradictory, while supporting a fucking horrible president, also put up for and fought her job because of racism she was seeing all around her. She doesn’t really think like a conservative and her way of approaching life didn’t really ever reflect a deeper conservative value or drive. I’ve noticed other conservatives never liked her.

She believed the wrong things because she was driven by religious faith and loneliness to believe the rabbit hole of alt right Facebook. She doesn’t have much of an education, was bullied and abused for most of her childhood. she went to over twenty different schools and moved a lot throughout her childhood. She got married and started having children very young. She always worked as a bartender, or as a caretaker to children with disabilities or elderly folk. She barely understood the internet. She believed in god and joined religious groups on Facebook very open and blindly without even understanding propaganda or the political climate of what is being fought for, which pretty much took her down this poisonous road. And now she’s barely able to talk in an icu all alone, as this virus that she didn’t believe in tries to kill her.

Moving to the city and always being left leaning, but being from a rural area of the inland north west, where I was outnumbered and lived amongst these folk who didn’t like me all that much but I was always having to find ways to accept and understand sometimes gives me a perspective perhaps that maybe liberal kids from middle class families from liberal cities have missed out on. I will never be able to see it as black and white. It would be easy to just say that the people in Bible Belt areas deserve this and be rid of any sadness or guilt. I was disgusted by the anti intellectualism I was surrounded by and I lived for most of my twenties in my own world to avoid it when I was growing up and lived in my home state which is fairly red. But people are the same everywhere. They really are.

Her recovery is slow and I worry something terrible is happening to her organs and lungs as she has fights for her life. I hope her body is strong enough to keep fighting. I appreciate the care and labor and sacrifice the hospitals have given to keep people alive. There is so much anguish. We have lost a mural of so many wonderful and beautiful souls to covid. It’s hard to even fathom the grief and pain it’s left in its wake. I can barely cope with my own.

I took a walk today to think. I haven’t wanted to listen to music in a long while because my mood is on my mother’s condition, but I put in John Prine. He was one of the first people to die of covid that I cared about, albeit indirectly as I only know him through his songs. I had a ticket to go see him play before covid took his life. It was going to be small and intimate outdoor concert in town. His music was always so real and down to earth. He sings about the quiet sad things of getting old and the way that love is about the daily existence with other people. How you build and cope with things.

One of his last songs on the album before he died was about how science has no business tinkering with nature. It’s so genuine. And ironic. Not everyone shares this belief, but I think that the covid flu was made in a lab and someone made a mistake and let it out into the public. I believe it was just human error in Wuhan. Nobody, no government or anything wanted this. And the Chinese government did everything they could to avoid fessing up to the mistake. So the idea of a lab grown virus being what killed John Prine kind of hurts in a way, though he also often sang about being comfortable with death and having peace with a life that was happy.

There are countless people I could blame for my mother’s disease. I could blame the dystopian Chinese government and their inability to admit fault, I could blame our government and our long-standing capitalist system that monetary prioritizes gain over human life, I could blame my mother’s cruel upbringing for not giving her the tools she needed to make wise choices about the world around her, or she herself for not taking care of her body. I could blame her mother and father and brothers.

I could blame my sisters kids for their lack of consideration of what covid would do to my mother’s health knowing she was high risk, or my eldest sister herself for being lazy and letting them go to my moms house knowingly.

I could blame some mentally unwell woman named Susan who my mother might have vaguely known for inviting her to a Facebook group of hate and conspiracy, or blame the nuns who drove religion into my mother’s head as a child. I could blame the easy to punch Ted Cruz or Tucker Carleson or any of the right wing mouth pieces for spreading lies and misinformation to the people they are supposedly speaking up for on behalf of about covid. I could blame it on our artificially based two party system that prevents real discussion from ever happening.

In the end, there is a myriad of things I could blame. So many pieces to the puzzle I could write volumes. But it doesn’t change where we are at now. And I have little control of the world around me. Or what made it that way. It’s disappointing. And in a way, John Prine has that message too. I’m just sad. I try to remember that my mom of the many people I have known was very accepting of death. Maybe it’s because she’s a person of faith, but she has a practical dark humor about her too that makes her accept it. I know she wouldn’t want me to be sad, but I am all the same.

It’s happened at this point where I am genuinely feeling my age and kind of at a crossroads in who I am as a person and what I want to do. I’ll talk about that some other time though. There is only so much a person can read.

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years ago

Note

hey you any canon compliant angst no happy ending recs

Hey Lovely!

Ah, you’re an evil one, aren’t ya, LOL LOL!! Hee hee! No worries! I’ve had this one waiting for literal years, finally going to use this post as an excuse to post it up! Enjoy(?)! LOL <3

UNHAPPY or AMBIGUOUS ENDINGS

See also:

Major Character Death / Heavy Angst

Major Character Death / Heavy Angst Pt 2

One Lives, One Dies

John’s Suicide Before TEH

Dies After the Fall and Becomes a Ghost

John Has Cancer

I don't mind by beltainefaerie (G, 221 w., 1 Ch. || Pining Sherlock, Stag Night, 221B, Post-TRF, Angst, Longing) – Sherlock is more vulnerable than he pretends. Part 4 of Bel's Tumblr Ficlets

Pervasive Quietness by LittleLongHairedOutlaw (T, 545 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Friendship, Pining Sherlock, First-Person Sherlock POV) – The hollowness left in Baker Street seeps into everything.

Human Error by YakuzaDog (G, 571 w., 1 Ch. || HLV Missing Scene, Angst) – Sherlock goes on a brief shopping trip.

The Hollow Man by HHarris (G, 639 w., 1 Ch. || John’s Chair, Introspection, Sherlock’s Big Feelings™, Post TRF, Angst, Emotional Turmoil, POV Sherlock, Pining / Sad Sherlock) – Still reeling from the apparent loss of his one and only friend, Sherlock returns to 221B for the first time after the events of The Reichenbach Fall.

Five Seconds by xXLadyLovelaceXx (K+, 658 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Introspection, TGG Pool Scene) – In the half-second before Sherlock shoots the jacket, John notices something.

Promise of Sussex by LittleLongHairedOutlaw (T, 705 w., 1 Ch. || First Person POV Sherlock, Sherlock Whump, Angst, Pining, Ambiguous Ending) – John tries to keep Sherlock conscious after he's been shot on a case.

Message Not Sent by Queerasil (K, 762 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, One-Sided Texting, Pining Sherlock) - Sherlock texts John after the fall and during the hiatus. The messages are sent, but never received. Sequel to WORDLOCKED, TSTM, and Wait, How Do You Play This Game Again?

John Will Never Know by bloodsoakedleather (E, 775 w., 1 Ch. || Fantasy John, Masturbation, PIning Sherlock, Sexual Fantasy, Rimming, Cock Sucking, John’s Red Pants, Pants Sniffing, Coming in Pants, Mild Kink) – Sherlock indulges in a spot of self gratification with the aid of a stolen pair of red pants. Part 2 of Johnlock Porny Ficlets

Words Were Never Useful by Jenn1984 (K+, 819 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt Comfort, John Whump, Friendship, Ambiguous Ending) - ALLEY BEHIND THE BOOKSTORE, JOHN STABBED. HELP NOW. SH

The Other Shoe by thewaitwasworthitlove - (NR, 1,053 w., 1 Ch. || Pining Sherlock, Angst, URT, Post-TSo3) - Sherlock realizes how deep in love he has fallen for John. Only Sherlock Holmes would manage to be more shattered than crystal dropped on concrete.

The Signs of Loss by LitLocked (NR, 1,103 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TSo3, Pining Sherlock, Self Reflection) – Sherlock's internal monologue after he comes back from the wedding.

Velvet by headlessjess (G, 1,155 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3 Fic, Pining, Angst, Jealous Sherlock, Loneliness, Sad Fic, Friendship, Bi-Curiousity, Dancing) – It's the day, the wedding day - John and Mary, getting married. And then there's Sherlock, in pain and in love, without knowing how to deal with it.

Imminent by LoyalPaddler (K+, 1,187 w., 1 Ch. || Kidnapping, Open Ending) – What did it say about a person if he recognized the feeling of waking up concussed, blindfolded, and handcuffed to a chair? Probably not good, that.

The Simple Separation Will Not Come Between Us by The Circus (T, 1,278 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, MCD, Violence, Heavy Angst, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Prose) – The choice is simple. Real, and No John. Or Not Real, and John. For a prompt that says 'John dies and Sherlock loses himself in his Mind Palace’

Hold On by Jennistar1 (T, 1,300 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF, Hiatus, Friendship) – Alternative ending to Reichenbach Falls - John knew all along.

The Talons of Sentiment by dearcst (G, 1,463 w., 1 Ch. || First Person POV, Angst, Unrequited Love, Pining Sherlock) – I promised myself long ago I wouldn’t succumb to something so degrading, something so vicious. I promised I wouldn’t let myself fall. But that was before him. That was before I met John. In sleep there is such bliss and peace, and as John slept on my shoulder, it killed me inside to know I was so close yet I could never touch him.

Love and Bombs by Spark_Writer (T, 1,696 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, POV Sherlock First Person, Post-HLV, Pining Sherlock) – Love and bombs aren’t all that different, John. In the end, they’re almost indistinguishable. Part 3 of Human Error

BBCSH 'Poor Mary' by tigersilver (M, 1,839 w., 1 Ch. || HLV Fic, Canon Compliant, Sherlock Whump / Mary Shot Sherlock, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Missing Scene, Sherlock POV) – As the tin says above, this is a missing scene, set directly after Sherlock awakens in hospital after having been shot by his best mate's wife. Minor angst, some pining, nothing nasty; please don't be alarmed unduly.

Dying Changes Everything by whitchry9 (K+, 1,919 w., 1 Ch || Sherlock POV, Suicidal Ideation, Near-Death, Hospital, Sherlock Whump, Gunshot, Unhappy/Ambiguous Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship) – Sherlock is having an existential crisis and wants to have a near death experience like John did to gain some perspective. “Shoot me John!” he insisted, gesturing to himself. John just looked at him. “Are you completely mad?”

Love Hurts by Grac3 (T, 2,215 w., 1 Ch. || Magical Realism, Pining Sherlock, One-Sided Pining / URT, Sherlock / John Whump, Angst, Ambiguous Ending) – In a world where someone's physical injuries manifest themselves on the person who is in love with them, John didn't think that there would ever be anyone who was willing to risk falling in love with him - until he got shot on a case, and it didn't hurt. Unrequited Johnlock.

glimpses through a closing window by radialarch (T, 2,430 w., 1 Ch. || Hiatus / Post TRF, Vlogging, Pining Sherlock, Angst, BG John/Mary) – John starts a domestic vlog. Sherlock watches it on stolen phones, over flickering wi-fi, and aches.

It's After That Hurts by jonnyluvssherlock (T, 2,791 w., 1 Ch. || City of Angels AU || Fantasy, Fallen Angel Sherlock, Soldier John, Pining Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Permanently Incomplete Fic) – Sherlock's an angel stuck as a guardian to danger addict John Watson. Everything is fine until he gets too involved. Now he has to make the choice, eternity alone or one life time with a man who may or may not love him.

You Paid Me Well In Memories by Ballykissangel - (K+, 3,149 w., 1 Ch. || Heavy Angst, Hurt, Comfort, Grief) – It's Sherlock's birthday and John is not doing well. No matter how hard he's tried to keep on living, he knows he is going to give up soon and he isn't going to make it. Today is his last and only chance to visit Sherlock's grave to talk and give him his gifts: His dog tags, a book full of notes and memories and the meaning of love as Sherlock watches on in grief.

Out of Time by westernredcedar (T, 3,163 w., 1 Ch. || Wedding, Angst, Pining John, Sad Ending) – Somerset is a lovely place for a wedding, but what John hadn't accounted for was the getting everyone there.

fulfilling for other people by missselene (E, 3,957 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Oblivious John, Pining Sherlock, Unhappy Fic, Unrequited Love Confession, Virgin Sherlock) – When Sherlock decides to act on John’s advice regarding romantic entanglements, the results are far from what John expected. Part 1 of fulfilling for other people

Sink Like a Stone by pennydreadful (T, 4,348 w., 1 Ch. || Angst / Dark, Cuddling/Snuggling) – After defeating Moriarty at the pool, life isn't quite the same around 221B Baker Street...it's more peaceful. And stranger.

The Dance Lesson by bittergreens (G, 4,596 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3 Missing Scene, Dancing, Pining Sherlock, URT/UST, Romance, Angst, POV John) – Sherlock teaches John to dip. Part 1 of Goodnight, Vienna

Anticlockwise (Ask Time) by TheBookshelfDweller (G, 3,752 w., 1 Ch. || Metaphorical, Angst, Time, Unhappy Ending) – "Let me tell you the truth: Sherlock Holmes cannot beat Time." Time only flows in one direction, and we are stranded in it, carried by currents we mostly never notice are whirling around us. No one can walk backwards along the timeline, and maybe that’s for the best, because what if someone could? Where would they go? Or, better say, to when would they go? Most importantly who would they leave behind (or is it ahead)? In the end, despite the truth, Sherlock Holmes decides to fight Time, for John, for himself - for himself with John.

On the Steadfast Approach of an Oncoming Darkness by 2bee (T, 7,772 w., 1 Ch. || Apocalypse, Minor Character Death, Sort of Parentlock) – The world is ending. Not fast, but slowly, like falling asleep with a fever.

In The End by whitchry9 (K+, 9,677 w., 17 Ch. || Memento Fusion || Amnesia, Growing Old, Hurt / Comfort, Friendship, Heavy Angst) – When a brain injury leaves Sherlock unable to make new memories, John wonders how Sherlock will cope, and what it will mean for The Work and their life. Because after all, how can you live if you can't feel time passing?

All the Times Something ALMOST Happened by allonsys_girl (T, 9,049 w., 6 Ch. || POV Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Canon Compliant, Angst, Friendship/Love, UST) – John and Sherlock dancing around what they dance around in canon.

The Haunting of 221B Baker Street by earlgreytea68 (M, 10,388 w., 2 Ch. || Post TRF, Halloween / Ghosts, Pining Sherlock, Ghost Sherlock, Stroppy Sherlock, Sherlock POV, First Kiss/Time, Angry Sex, Ghost Sex, Love Confessions, Open / Ambiguous Ending) – In which Sherlock Holmes is a ghost.

The Five Stages of Mourning, Plus One by SunnyRea (T, 10,557 w., 1 Ch. || Major Character Death, Pining / Grieving Sherlock, URT, Heavy Angst, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Drug Use, Graphic Death, Depression, Unhappy Ending) – Sherlock did not want this, did not want another stalemate with John in the middle, a gun in Jim's hand. This cannot have happened without a sign. There has to be something he missed anything which said today is the day I kill for real.

There's So Much Labour Just in Breathing Lately by Susan (E, 12,708 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF / Mentions of S3 Events, Romance, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Grieving John, Mutual Pining, Meddling Mycroft, Therapy, Ambiguous Hopeful Ending, Infidelity) – The dreams he hated most – the ones that left him a sweating, shaking mess when he woke – were the ones in which Sherlock was just Sherlock. Laughing or drinking tea. Sitting across the table from him at Angelo’s eating pasta. Trailing his open hand behind him on the way to the bedroom. “C’mon, John. I’m about to have my way with you.”

we have never seen a greater day than this by Lediona (T, 36,420 w., 7 Ch. || A Royal Night Out AU || WWII / VE Day, Prince Sherlock, Soldier John, Alternating POV, First Kiss, Bittersweet Ending, Homophobia, Dancing) – Peace. At long last. It’s VE Day and Prince William desires to join the celebrations. It is a night of excitement, danger and the first flutters of romance.

Impossible to Feign by achray (M, 49,204 w., 12 Ch. || TRF Rewrite / Reverse Reichenbach, Suicidal Ideations / Discussions, Drug Use/Abuse, Mutual Pining, Friends With Benefits, John Accepts his Sexuality, Anxious Sherlock, Meddling Mycroft, Depression, Hallucinations, Secret Agent John, BAMF John, Reunion, Make-Up Sex, Ambiguous Ending) – Sherlock leant forward, his long fingers curving round to grip John’s.“I won’t let him win,” he said, eyes hard. “I will do whatever it takes to get you out.”

The Hollow Woman by ScopesMonkey (M, 51,335 w., 22 Ch. || Post-TRF, Major Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Friendship, Family, Angst, Crime, Reunion, First Kiss / Time, Nightmares, Doctor John, Jealous Sherlock, Jealous John, BAMF John, Angry John, Dub-Con, Rough Sex, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Villain Mary, Open Ending) – Forced to return to London sooner than expected, Sherlock falls into a case too close to home. Part 1 of the Hollowverse series

The Gilded Cage by BeautifulFiction (E, 326,887 w., 31 Ch. || Omegaverse || Omega Sherlock / Alpha John, Friends to Lovers, Dub Con, Reproductive Rights) – In a world where Omegas are the property of the elite Alphas, locked away and treasured by those wealthy enough to buy them, John never questioned his flatmate's secondary gender. Sherlock Holmes was an Alpha through-and through. Wasn't he? A chance discovery turns the world on its head, and John is left grappling to come to terms with Sherlock's past as events conspire to threaten their future.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #angst fics #unhappy endings #my fic recs #69-toojay #long post

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sinfulcider · 4 years ago

Text

Shower with our clothes on

Pairings: Bucky barnes (tfatws era) x fem!Reader

Summary: When y/n decides to deal with the stress from a rough mission in her own, slightly messy way, Bucky’s attempts to stop her fail.

Warnings: just smut, dom!Reader & sub!Bucky kinda?

A/N - I wrote this from a different perspective than I usually do so I apologize for any errors there might be with that.

“There is no reason to cope with emotions in a regular way. When things start to get intense, I simply jump in the shower fully clothed.”

I stood with my arms crossed, ending my sentence with a sigh and drawing a huff from the man in front of me. Bucky and I got along fine, really well actually. It was just tense and we wouldn’t admit how close we were.

“Please. I’m not leaving you to make a mess of your clothes AND the floor just because we had a rough day.” He leaned against the wall beside us, his moving wafting his scent over to me slightly making my focus threaten to pull into my thoughts. An idea dawned on me quickly, “then join me,” I teased. Bucky scoffed.

“It’s just water, James.” I said sternly, he only shook his head with a sigh, constructing his response to my adamancy. In his silence, I took my chance to slink past him into the bathroom and jump into the shower before he could stop me.

Once bucky finally reached me, I grabbed a hold of him and pulled with an evil laugh. “NO WAIT!” “TOO LATE!” we shared a laugh but I grew quiet at the sight of water droplets running down his face and the beautiful sound that was his laughter. “What?” His face had fallen and he spoke like a lost puppy, “nothing.” My voice was a near whisper, some of my hair stuck to my face, and my breath grew shakey. “Doll.” Bucky’s hand lifted to push the hair away, the contact making my heart flip.

Bucky made my are race like nothing before. All h had to do was brush up against me a little or look in my direction and it was over for me. I swallowed hard and thought on it, but one more look at his pretty face and I was acting on impulse in an instant.

My hands found his face in an instant, pulling him in. His lips moved with mine immediately, tongue delving in to explore my mouth. Water droplets slid between the kiss at every opportunity. The kiss passionate but slow, full of relief from countless nights wishing it would’ve happened sooner.

Pulling away in need of air, bucky panted, laughing a little in between breathes. His eyes poured into mine, the steel blue darkening as moments passed. I smirked before I moved to his jawline, making my way to the crook of his neck. He choked back a moan “Doll I-” He halted his speech when I pulled him closer by the waist of his pants.

Bucky’s heartbeat quickened when I unzipped his pants and grabbed his member, beginning to pump it. A whimper left his throat and his head fell to my shoulder, hips jutting forward in reaction to my painfully slow pace.

“Doll you’re killing me h-here.” He tripped on his words, letting a grunt pass when I picked up my pace. I chuckled, my breath hitting his ear causing a chill to run down his spine. Bucky’s breathe quickened even more and i could feel his body start to tense under my touch.

I lifted his face , looking over his flustered expression with a smile. I could see he was nearing his high so I slowed to a stop. “You look so pretty when you blush.” I spoke warmly, his expression grew confused. “pretty?” his voice cracked a little and he let out a breathy laugh. Bucky brought his lips to mine hungrily, tongue moving over the details of my mouth once more.

His hands made there way to the hem of my shirt, pulling away to peel it off. Kissing down my neck, he made his way all the way down to my own waistline, removing my jeans as he did so. Then he hooked a finger in the waistband of my underwear, looking up at me with an open mouth grin falling on his face. He trailed kisses up my inner thigh, stopping to leave a mark. I brought a hand to run through his hair, moving him away from the welted flesh. I admired how pretty he looked with the water in his hair and his bright smile as he looked up at me.

Leaning forward, Bucky placed a slow kiss on my heat. I inhaled deeply, a little surprised by his action. My grip on his hair tightened slightly, bracing for what might happen. He licked along my folds teasingly, I shuttered and my head slowly leaned back, eyes closing. “Buck.” I warned, he wasn’t used to this name of his falling from my lips. I referred to him as James or Barnes nearly strictly. “Say it again.” He spoke in a dark tone. My brows furrowed and a small smile played at my my face. My breath hitched at the feeling of his fingers at my entrance. I met his gaze “Bucky.” I smiled in anticipation. I gasped when he began to lick circles on my clit and pumping his fingers slowly.

His paced picked up when my breath quickened, fingers curving just right. I swallowed a moan, but grew to miss the feeling of his pleasure at my touch. “Bucky I-” “shhh.” He stood, not yet removing his fingers, only bringing me into another kiss and replacing his tongue where his tongue had been working before. The pace at which his fingers worked grew faster, bringing me to gasp into his mouth.

He chuckled, moving to my neck. My walls tightened around him, and I could feel him grow hard against my leg. My back arched as I felt the coil in my stomach grow tighter. My hips rolled against his hand when he hit the right spot on my neck. The coil snapped and my hands gripped the wet cloth on his back.

I let out a moan or two, coming down from my high. Bucky drug his lip between his teeth, looking over my expression. “Oh no, you don’t get to keep this.” I chuckled, peeling his shirt off as he did mine, letting the warm water glide over his bare skin. “Or these.” I grinned, pulling the went trousers from his body, long with his boxers. He reached out for me again but I simply shook my head, grabbing a hold of his wrists and turning him around to the wall I had been against.

He let out a nervous huff at the situation. In all honesty Bucky was always more dominant in his past sexual experience. He wasn’t so sure about this but it seemed to spark something new in him, his pulse quickened, heat rose to his cheeks, and it made him pant like an over excited puppy. He grew hungrier for more by the second.

I grabbed his chin, softly pulling him into a slow, searing kiss. I grinded into his hard member, eliciting a small moan in the bottom of his throat. I made my way to his collar bone as h let out shallow breaths, making sure to leave a mark just as he did minutes ago. I buried my hands in his short hair, tugging in firmly.

“You look good like this sergent.” My hands fell to his jawline and my thumb swiped over his bottom lip, pulling it down a little. A breathy laugh poured out of him, “You don’t look too bad yourself, Doll, but if you keep talking to me like that you’re gonna have to get on top of me.”

Quickly turning off the water, I pulled him out of the bathroom and pushed him on the bed. Climbing on top of him I looked over him with a tilt of my head. I pinned his hands above his head in an instan once they went to my thighs. A surprised, slightly nervous, expression fell on his face. “No touching.”

“What are you gonna-” “Shhh.” a blush crept upon his cheeks, making me grin. I traveled down bucky’s body, taking hold of his shaft once I reached his waist. He inhaled deeply, attempting to maintain composure. I licked a stripe along the underside of his member, watching his mouth fall open with a whimper.

His chest inflated when I took his full length in my mouth, head falling back and eyes closing in pleasure. I began to bob up and down slowly and a moan flooded out of his mouth in response. Bucky’s hand reached down to squeeze the sheets when my pace picked up. I hummed in approval at the sight of him, sending a shiver down his spine that made him buck his hips.

I pulled of at the warnings of him getting close. Bucky’s chest heaved while I climbed him once more. Holding his face I my hand, I admired his glistening, pleasure ridden face, “Look at you, Barnes.” I lowered myself onto him slowly, shakily inhaling at the feeling of him inside me. Bucky was still panting heavily, holding back. “Let me hear those noises.” I spoke low in his ear, nearly cooing. A smile tugged at my lips.

I lifted myself off of him nearly completely before falling back onto him. I continued moving my hips, rolling them with his. Soon, Bucky was a mess of moans and whimpers beneath me. “You’re so good.” I cood, kissing him passionately. I let him begin to roam my body with his hands. I rested my forehead against his, letting his moans pour into my mouth, our hot breaths joining together.

I planted more searing kisses down his neck, finding his sweet spot and bringing his back to an arch. “Y/N, Doll I-” he lost his words in a breathy moan. “I know.” I reassured him, naring my own climax. My face fell to the crook of his neck, his arms wrapped around me as the heat in my core burst, bringing me to my high while he followed soon after. Bucky let out one last grunt, pulling out a minute later.

He held me close with shakey breathes ringing out into the room around us. “I think I’ve wanted to do that for a really long time.” He spoke softly, a small laugh left my lips. I pulled his face close, placing a kiss on his lips. He hummed happily, “let’s not make this a one time thing.” Bucky narly pleaded, “You got it, soldier.”

#bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut

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stillness-in-green · 4 years ago

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Part 2 of the response to this ask:

Part 1 was about where I think Geten’s story is going, and if I think it’s likely that Dabi will kill him; it dealt mainly with how those characters are set up in canon. Part 2 is far more about the fandom, and the assumptions people make that lead them to theories like the one above--specifically, the assumption that the League was always planning on bailing on the PLF. Hit the jump below with me and I'll go over why I think the common arguments for that are misguided at best, and willfully misreading the text at worst.

WARNING: Contains some generalizations about parts of the fandom that I have mostly taken steps to avoid seeing on my dash, so some of my characterizations may be out of date. I’ve tried to desalinate this post as much as possible, but as an unapologetic fan of the MLA and of Spinner (who I do not bring up incidentally), this is a topic I feel particularly strongly about. Apologies, but I Have Seen Things.

DISCLAIMER: I like Geten better than Dabi. I don't think he's better developed; I don't think he's a better character--I just like him better. This is largely down to the fact that I find the MLA fascinating from a worldbuilding perspective and its members compelling personally, whereas I’m less interested in Dabi personally than I am the Todoroki Drama on the whole, and have been tired of Fanon Dabi for approximately 83 years. I’ll also be the first to admit that my take on Dabi is pretty mercenary--hardly the irredeemable psychopath the Hero Stans on Twitter see, but nothing close to Secretly Soft Big Brother Touya, either. If that’s not your bag, you may want to skip this one.

So, here's a bullet point list of the reasons I have personally seen on why the League was always planning to turn on the MLA:

Dabi and Toga mention "getting started early," and Shigaraki mentions a plan, suggesting that the League had a plan in place independent of the one they arranged as the PLF.

Shigaraki says he won't forgive the Liberation Army for messing with peoples' feelings, so he would never really mean it when he forges an alliance with them.

The MLA is quirk supremacist, like Endeavor, so Dabi would never work with them.

Dabi is just using Skeptic against Skeptic's will; it’s not a willing partnership.

Mr. Compress rejects the PLF moniker for Shigaraki, ergo Mr. Compress didn’t genuinely associate Shigaraki and the League with the PLF.

Toga hated Curious, so she wouldn't want to work with the MLA either.

Twice would never forgive them for what they did to Giran.

[Error: argument about Spinner's opinion on the PLF not found.]

So, let's go over those, shall we? Note that a lot of what I'm going to lay out below isn't conclusive. What I want to establish is simply that the canonical evidence isn't conclusive, certainly not as much so as the people who support this view espouse.

|| Dabi and Toga mention "getting started early," and Shigaraki mentions a plan, suggesting that the League had a plan in place independent of the one they arranged as the PLF.

In responses to my recent Overhaul post, I defended Viz’s official translation as an accurate rendering of the dialogue in question. In general, I feel like Caleb Cook is pretty reliable in his translations, if sometimes kind of stiff or dry in localization. However, there are times he makes assumptions about lines--as indeed a translator for a currently-running series will sometimes have to--and sometimes, those assumptions don’t pan out. This is one of those times.

Dabi's line, "Shall we get started early?" is based on an assumption Cook made about a line that doesn't have an actual subject. In the original dialogue--Hayame ni hajimaru ka--there is no “we,” not even in the form of some implicit collective in Dabi’s grammatical inflection, nor is there a question of "should." All Dabi’s doing is musing that the start (again, there’s no subject, and so no indication of the start of what, or the start as initiated by who) is happening early.

Toga's line communicates much the same, save that she does specify that the schedule/plan/arrangement is happening earlier than expected--which is totally true, since her line is in response to Dabi observing that Machia moving must mean Shigaraki's awake, and Shigaraki was supposed to be down for another month.

Shigaraki's line, like Dabi's, lacks a subject to describe what exactly is supposed to start as soon as Shigaraki wakes. He's saying something that would, in a more stilted way, be, "I wake up and then it's the start, right?"

None of these lines suggest that the characters are necessarily talking about any plan other than the one the PLF laid out. Yes, it looks somewhat damning that Shigaraki's first action (after getting himself a cape, anyway) is to have Machia bring him the League, but heck, maybe that was always the plan. Just because Shigaraki wants to rejoin his comrades doesn't mean the rest of the PLF didn't already have machinations that they were supposed to set into motion the moment Machia left. After all, the plan as Hawks understood it did involve simultaneous attacks on major cities--maybe the League was going to be spearheading one of those attacks. Further, Shigaraki knew something was wrong from the moment he regained consciousness, and we don’t know how that knowledge affected the call he made. Hell, maybe the original plan was for the League to be brought to meet him somewhere in a chartered limo; we don’t know.

It's telling that this idea that the League had a Secret Plan to screw over the MLA rarely seems to account for Mr. Compress and Spinner being confused over the suddenness of events. The response to questions about this seems to be that the "villain trio" knew about it, so the ignorance of the rest of the League can just be handwaved--the important members knew, and that's enough. This is ungenerous towards both Twice and Mr. Compress, but I have got particularly little time for Spinner, the narrator of MVA and guy who decided to devote his all to Shigaraki, being disrespected in this fashion. More on that later.

|| Shigaraki says he won't forgive the Liberation Army for messing with peoples' feelings, so he would never really mean it when he forges an alliance with them.

Shigaraki does say he won't forgive the MLA, but consider what he did to the MLA and its leader. He destroyed most of their stronghold, killed scores of them, is directly responsible for Re-Destro losing his legs, and saw that vaunted descendant of Destro about six inches shy of full forehead-on-the-ground dogeza. The League Shigaraki commands killed a great many more of them, including one of their inner circle. He commandeered the Liberation Army, its resources, and its grand cause. I think it’s safe to say he’s more than responded in kind!

I'm not saying Shigaraki feels for the MLA the same way he does about the League, far from it, but I do think he's practical enough after two hundred chapters of character development not to throw them away out of spite. In Chapter 246, he tells Ujiko explicitly, "When someone offers me something, I take it," and, "I'm done taking the heroes lightly. I'll use everything I've got to obliterate the dregs All Might left behind." From a purely practical standpoint, if he intends to throw everything he has at the heroes, he has no reason to throw the MLA under the bus, and 116,000 reasons to keep them around. I'm altogether sure that, so long as they stood to be useful to his plans, he would have kept them around.

|| The MLA is quirk supremacist, like Endeavor, so Dabi would never work with them. + || Dabi is just using Skeptic against Skeptic's will; it’s not a willing partnership.

I hadn’t seen the second point in the wild, but I suppose it must be how the “The League will betray the MLA” theorists are getting around Dabi and Skeptic’s clear collaboration and how that collaboration totally scuttles the first point, huh? Hilarious.

Anyway, setting aside the fact that Dabi showed up to the one planning session we were shown when even Geten didn’t, there’s evidence in the canon that Dabi was working with Skeptic since even before the raid. Consider that Dabi’s video was filmed at the villa (the wall paneling and the style of the couch both match) and ask yourself where the camera he used came from. Once the filming was complete, where was the video stored such that Skeptic could access it from his laptop? If Dabi’d had it on an SD card and Skeptic was seeing it for the first time, why didn’t Spinner, Compress and Toga watch it alongside him? Surely Skeptic would need to watch it through at least once to know when to splice in the footage of Jin’s death for maximum dramatic impact? On that note, by far the most telling piece of evidence is this: if Dabi wasn't already working with Skeptic, then why was he wearing one of Skeptic's body cameras during his confrontation with Hawks?

Further, Skeptic's protest when he’s pulled onto Machia isn't that he doesn’t want to be with the League; it’s that he doesn’t want to leave Re-Destro behind. Once he's resigned that it's going to happen, though, he's cocky about his talents and complimentary of Dabi's big reveal, even if he is exasperated about the League's antics. It's ambiguous, I admit, but given that Dabi's wearing his cameras, he had to have known Dabi had a reason for them--and given that he is both abrasive and mouthy, I can’t imagine he wouldn’t have demanded to know what that reason was.

Hell, Dabi even thanks Skeptic for his editing work, which is more direct positive approval than he's ever shown anyone in the League (give or take the high-five with Twice, which, genuine or not, he would have known he was doing on camera). That much-vaunted panel of Spinner telling Toga to come back to the League? Dabi's grinning, which in isolation you could read as a certain rueful affection, but with the full context of the chapter, it becomes apparent that Dabi is grinning at Skeptic's laptop, seconds after telling Skeptic to "hurry up." Skeptic is, at that moment, probably gearing up the video to project nationwide, and Dabi’s more focused on that than he is Toga’s crisis, even when Compress directly appeals to him for aid. He tells Compress he doesn’t care, the same way he told Hawks he doesn't give a damn about the League.

Let me be clear here: I'm inclined to take Dabi at his word. I think Dabi hangs around the League because, for all that he says one man's conviction can shake the world, he also knows his own limits, and the League offers safety in numbers and an avenue to pursue his revenge. Maybe he finds them acceptable enough company, maybe he even does like them a bit despite himself, but I think any affection he might have for them is entirely incidental to his views on their usefulness. In the same way, while he's willing to bail on the MLA when the heroes attack, I don't think it was his plan to do so, especially not given his apparent immediate regard for Skeptic, as seen in the deleted scene here. Sure, he dislikes Geten, but ultimately, Geten is a stupid kid too tied up in his care for Re-Destro--who's now worshipping the ground Shigaraki walks on--to really be getting in Dabi's way.

Maybe if the MLA really were as quirk supremacist as Geten makes them out to be, Dabi would be actively looking for a way to see ‘em burn, but as I’ve said countless times before, Geten is not a reliable narrator vis a vis the MLA's doctrine. Now, obviously I don't expect Dabi to give them an unearned benefit of the doubt,(1) not after what he heard Geten say, but if Dabi has been working with Skeptic, it doesn't take a genius to realize that while Anthropomorph is a perfectly good quirk, it is categorically not what primarily defines Skeptic’s "worth" in the MLA societal microcosm.

Nothing that Skeptic does reflects the way Geten talks about "elevating one's ability" or "sheer strength" in the way that HeroAca fandom tends to understand as referring to flashy and offensive quirks. And yet, Skeptic is a ranked advisor warranting an introductory panel with RD's inner circle and Geten is not. Perhaps, just perhaps, this might have led Dabi to reevaluating his initial assessment just slightly?

|| Mr. Compress rejects the PLF moniker for Shigaraki, ergo Mr. Compress didn’t genuinely associate Shigaraki and the League with the PLF.

So, this one's pretty wild, because, in the same chapter that had people crowing about Mr. Compress's dialogue, Mr. Compress's actions show the exact opposite of the conclusion this theory would demand. Specifically, if it was always the League's plan to ditch the MLA, Mr. Compress would have darted right past Skeptic, ignoring the man's cries for help. He doesn't--he picks Skeptic up on the way past and (at least in the volume corrections) deposits him safe with Dabi in Spinner's scarf. Of course, Skeptic still stands to be useful, but if one acknowledges that Skeptic's usefulness is reason enough not to abandon him, then what exactly is the argument for leaving 116,000 perfectly useful warm bodies behind?

But let's set aside Compress rescuing Skeptic and focus on the actual point, because that point in itself is still flawed. Mr. Compress's thoughts on the PLF in the specific talk bubble in question are somewhat ambiguous. It's another case of the Viz translation making a couple of assumptions that are just that--assumptions.

Compress's words in the Japanese are as follows:

Chōjō Kaihō Sensen.… Viran rengo no Shigaraki Tomura ga…

Viz then renders the line like so:

The Paranormal Liberation Front's… No, the League of Villain's Shigaraki…

Note that in the Japanese, the possessive no is only included once, to indicate Shigaraki's association with the League. Further, the original doesn't indicate any negation in Compress's thoughts. Yes, he could be rejecting the PLF association for Shigaraki, but he could as easily be narrowing his scope to Shigaraki as the figure he represents to the League, rather than the figure he represents to the PLF--not rejecting wholesale, but rather becoming more specific. Compress might also be thinking first of the PLF as a general organization, then narrowing down to Shigaraki specifically.

Rather than reading this line as an indication that Compress regards the PLF as temporary, I was heartened by the fact that Compress thought about the PLF at all! If the League really had been planning to discard them this entire time, then there's no reason for Compress to have ever taken the Front seriously enough to have thought about them in that moment of crisis. You can carry this back further, too. In Chapter 258, when Twice is asking Hawks for help, he says that Spinner and Compress have been in meetings for days. Coupled with Compress's first thought about the entity that will carry out Harima's desired reformation being the Liberation Front (or possibly "the Liberation Front's Shigaraki"), this indicates to me that Compress was taking it seriously, not just gorging himself on sushi on the MLA's dime.

Indeed, back in Ujiko's lab, when it was just Shigaraki talking about his backstory and his dreams of destruction, Compress looks the opposite of impressed; we know from his narration in 294 that he liked the League because they didn't place any importance on one another’s pasts. Yet, at some point, his view shifted to believing that fulfilling his ancestor's ambition, his bloodline’s duty, really might be back on the table. We as readers don't quite know when that shift happened, but given, again, his initial mental invocation of the PLF, I think we can assume that it's tied to that alliance, those resources. And sure, when the moment of crisis happens and he's really defining who and what Shigaraki is to him, and where his values and priorities lie, it's with the League and Shigaraki as the leader of the League. But that doesn't mean he never had his hopes for the PLF at all, or was partaking in plans to ditch them.

Also too, this is a man who was lamenting the loss of their partnership with Overhaul, a man who personally maimed him, on top of killing a comrade. You're telling me the guy who shrugged off his animosity towards Overhaul would willingly allow the League to plot sabotage against even wealthier collaborators against whom he has even less reason to hold a grudge? Come on, guys.

|| Toga hated Curious, so she wouldn't want to work with the MLA either.

This one's easy: Toga pretty explicitly hated Curious, but she's even more explicit that she likes the MLA because she thinks the world they want to create is wonderful. She says this verbatim at the end of 225, after Curious has spent the entire chapter hounding her with explosions and intrusive questions. What turns her animosity on Curious is not some reveal that the MLA's world would be terrible after all, but Curious calling Toga's "normal" miserable and tragic. Essentially, she doesn't object to the world the MLA wants to bring about; she objects to being turned into a martyr for that world, especially when that martyrdom requires that the things that make Toga happy be characterized as horrific misfortunes.

Toga doesn't like Curious; she kills Curious. And then she comes into a position of leadership, and we don't know a lot about how that position takes her, but she seems delighted to be walking out onto the stage to be announced as such, and she makes active contributions to the discussion of the PLF's plans in Chapter 245. We are, again, given no indication that her lethal response to Curious means that she's planning to ditch the MLA on the whole.

Incidentally, Curious asserts what she does about Toga only in the context of the world as it stands. The world's rejection of Toga's normal, and the extremes that rejection drove Toga to, are what Curious considers tragic and miserable, not Toga's fascination with blood in and of itself. She clearly believes that, in the world the MLA envisions, Toga's life would not be so miserable because she would never have been oppressed to the degree that she snapped. And frankly, Curious isn't wrong. The only reason she is a villain in that scene is that she's willing to murder Toga to project that tragedy to the world. If she'd been willing to sit down and have a civil interview with Toga to print it in a relevant magazine, she would have been fine.

|| Twice would never forgive them for what they did to Giran.

You know, this is a totally fair point. It is, however, somewhat complicated by the fact that Giran himself never left the PLF. Now, there’s almost certainly something to be said about Giran’s whole information broker shtick being terminally compromised by his capture, his maiming, his client list being hacked, etc. He had a bunch of identifying items strewn all over the country that were covered in the national news, items that people who associated with him closely certainly would have recognized. Maybe he’s laying low for a while?

I don’t know why Giran was still around by the time of the raid. I can theorize about his pragmatism or what have you, but the canon really doesn’t give us anything to go on. Still, if he really hated the MLA all that much, as he would be totally justified in doing, it’s pretty bizarre that Horikoshi showed him twice in PLF crowd scenes post-Deika looking nothing worse than kind of confused and uneasy. Heck, you’d think he would at least have merited a better seat in the crowd for the big merger announcement.

Giran aside, the fact that Twice never does hit it off with anyone in his regiment is, I think, telling. If there’s anyone in the League that intentionally kept himself at a distance from the MLA because of hard feelings, it’s likely Twice. After all, if he had befriended anyone, he presumably wouldn’t have needed to go to Hawks for tutoring almost an entire month after Deika. That said, the fact that Twice does go running to Hawks for tutoring shows that he’s at least doing his best to act in accordance with what he thinks Shigaraki and the rest want. That doesn’t preclude the League having a secret plan that he’s either in on and playing along with, or hasn’t been told about because he might not be able to stop himself from vocalizing about it. Still, while absence of evidence is not evidence of absence, obviously absence of evidence is not evidence of presence. So, lacking any sign that the rest of the League is planning treachery, I’m not inclined to assume Twice’s lack of forgiveness is indicative of anything other than his own feelings.

|| [Error: argument about Spinner's opinion on the PLF not found.]

:: INCOMING SALT WARNING :: INCOMING SALT WARNING ::

This is the one that really gets to me. I have never seen an argument that the League is planning to betray the PLF that convincingly explains the fact that Spinner, to all available evidence, threw himself wholeheartedly into trying to make the PLF succeed. To be more precise, I have seen one explanation, and that explanation is that the plan to ditch the MLA was a secret that only Shigaraki, Dabi and sometimes Toga knew about, and to reiterate, that is bullshit.

In my experience, this is an explanation proposed by people who care about Spinner only insofar as he can be a Soft Gaymer Boyfriend or score them rhetorical points, but have little to no interest in his ongoing--and, indeed, increasing--importance to the League generally and Shigaraki’s arc specifically. The dude who talked about how Twice’s home was the League, who got through to Toga while still respecting her choice when no one else could, the guy who recognized the hollowness within Shigaraki but also bonded with him over video games, the man who Mr. Compress said was Shigaraki’s most devoted follower(2)--this man did not do all of that for people in this fandom to say, “Oh, well, the others probably just kept it a secret from him because they thought he’d be bad at lying.”

Really? “Bad at lying?” And that’s an adequate justification, is it, for Shigaraki letting Spinner toil for months under false pretenses? For lying to the man who adores him the most? Of course it isn’t, but the people who theorize this don’t really care about Spinner’s adoration for Shigaraki, or the fact that Shigaraki rewarding Spinner’s feelings by allowing him to dedicate himself unstintingly to something Shigaraki was planning to discard from the beginning would be a blatant abuse of Spinner’s trust.

I have never seen anyone try to argue that Spinner was in on a plan to betray the MLA all along. That’s because it’s patently obvious that Spinner--forthright, direct Spinner, who named the merged organization with Re-Destro, spends all his time in meetings, has a direct exchange with Re-Destro about the state of their plans, and is probably the reason RD started wearing polka dots--went all-in on the PLF. But for the people who propose the “the League was always going to bail” theory, Spinner and his labors are an afterthought.

Spinner is not an afterthought. Where Mr. Compress has been captured, Toga could hypothetically be peeled away from the League via Uraraka, and Dabi almost certainly will be peeled away via the Todoroki plot, Spinner’s driving motivation at this point is Shigaraki himself. He connected to Shigaraki’s nihilism, his hatred, but also his humanity--the humanity in Shigaraki Tomura, not in Shimura Tenko. His empathy didn’t spring from contrived psychic glimpses of crying 5-year-olds, but from long months of observation, doubt, and gradually deepening wonder. He’s the only person currently with Shigaraki that I can see caring enough about Shigaraki’s welfare that he might sacrifice his own goals and desires to help Deku save him.

Spinner is not an afterthought, and I refuse to build or entertain theories that treat him that way. So as to his opinions on the MLA? Despite having his own reasons to be leery of them based on how shabbily Trumpet treated him, he was obviously trying to make the Paranormal Liberation Front succeed, which means he must have believed that Shigaraki wanted it to succeed. Therefore, unless you’re prepared to assert that Shigaraki (and everyone else who was in on it!) was cruel enough to lie to Spinner about something he was devoting so much time and energy to, the inescapable conclusion is that Shigaraki also wanted the Front to succeed.

(Note: After letting a friend pre-read this, I have been informed that there is, in fact, one explanation offered for Spinner knowing the League was going to abandon the PLF but working his ass off on the venture anyway, and that explanation is, “Something something wants to prove himself because low self-esteem.” This is so ridiculous I can’t even bring myself to edit this post accordingly. Low self-esteem! Because nothing would alleviate Spinner's low self-esteem like toiling for months over something that holds no worth to the people he actually cares about, right? Right?? Bah. Humbug!)

And but so, to wrap all that up: I fundamentally disagree that the League viewed the Paranormal Liberation Front as a temporary arrangement, at least to the extent that they were actively planning to betray their newfound--new won--allies. The fact that I don't think the League intended to discard the MLA out of hand does, thus, influence my opinion that, whatever Geten's fate will be, I'm pretty sure it's not going to be, "He gets murdered in a way that resembles nothing so much as a sick revenge fantasy dozens of chapters after the last point when such a death would have been remotely tonally appropriate."

Thanks for the ask, anon! Sorry about-- *waves at all of this*

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(1) Not that Mr. “Burns Random Delinquents Alive For Not Measuring Up To His Standards For Villainy” has any moral standing to criticize others for how they determine the value of peoples’ lives, mind.

(2) Other translations for the verb in Mr. Compress’s Japanese line of, “You are the one who ____s Shigaraki the most,” include yearn for, long for, pine for, miss, love dearly, adore, idolize, and revere. “Most devoted follower” is accurate enough, but considerably less homo than some of the things we could have gotten there.

#bnha #stillness answers #paranormal liberation front #league of villains #stillness has salt #spinner defense squad

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canyouhearthelight · 5 years ago

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The Miys, Ch. 115

Extra special thanks for this chapter go out to @baelpenrose and @charlylimph-blog. Besides being regular beta-readers for me, Bael really really wanted a chapter with more Charly/Coffey, and Charly happily obliged by joining my and Bael’s regularly scheduled live-write of the chapter. We. Had. A. Blast. It was a shining beacon of love and laughter in my life, let me tell you.

I walked from the kitchen to the entry just as the notification went off that someone was standing outside. Still laughing from the comment Tyche made about the chicken breasts we were currently stuffing, my smile didn’t drop an inch as I saw Charly and Coffey standing there. “Hey, you two! About time!”

Charly held her head high and ignored my comment, while Coffey grinned back. “Best for last, you know,” he tossed with a wink as he handed over a bottle of red wine. “I know it doesn’t go with chicken but…”

“Stomachs are colorblind,” I finished, in sync with Charly and Tyche like we had rehearsed it. Conor and Maverick burst into laughter while Arthur just shook his head at our antics.

Charly stretched her neck to look over Tyche’s shoulder. “Those looks like…”

“We know,” Arthur groaned, eliciting another chuckle from everyone. “Tyche just mentioned that.”

“The - feta? - cheese is not helping your case, I’m just saying.”

Tyche tried her hardest to scowl and made a shooing gesture. “Please don’t ruin dinner before it’s even cooked please?”

“If I promise it won’t make dinner sound obscene, can I ask a question?” Charly ventured. All eyes turned toward her, since it was probably the first time she had ever asked permission to ask a question. Once I slowly nodded, she took a deep breath. “Have you ever tried rabbit?” The next part was rushed. “ImeanIhavearecipeforrabbitstewthat’stodiefor, andI’mprettysureAntoinewouldlikerabbitragout-”

“Charly,” Coffey intoned softly, reaching out to gently scritch the back of her neck.

She stopped talking and bit her lips. “I just mean - “

“It’s okay,” I assured them before anyone else in the room exploded from the laughter they were trying to hold back for her sake. “I really would love that recipe, Charly. I actually have a recipe for lapine ragout that Antoine adores, but the only other recipe I have is for coney pie.”

Charly nodded enthusiastically while practically collapsing on Coffey’s lap. Still nodding, she pulled a file up on her datapad and flicked it towards me. “Can I ask about the rabbits?” she asked softly, head twitching when Coffey scowled and - I assume - gently tugged the hair above where he was still scratching her neck. “Doesn’t hurt to ask!” she complained.

“I swear, it’s fine,” Arthur stated firmly. “You would be shocked at how hilarious she finds this story.”

Tyche rolled her eyes hard enough to move her neck. “And it puts some things into perspective…” she sighed.

Conor, on the other hand, gave me a hard look when I opened my mouth. “You know the rule.”

Dropping my head back in defeat, I took a deep breath. “Yes, I will make coney pie tomorrow for dinner.” Antoine, Charly, and Coffey all looked at me in confusion. “Conor hates hearing about my near-death experiences, so when I tell this story I have to make him rabbit pie for dinner.”

“So he can eat your enemies,” Charly nodded sagely.

“Pretty much,” I shrugged.

“Wait- “ she sputtered, realizing the rest of what I explained. “You had a near death experience? With a bunny!?”

All I could do was giggle. “Yes. I have a deathly fear of bunnies because one almost killed me once.”

“Twas no ordinary rabbit - it had a vicious streak a mile wide….” Arthur added, funny accent and all.

“May I ask that no one interrupt Sophia until she explains how she managed a real-life reenactment of a Monty Python sketch?” Coffey asked, leaning forward so far that Charly had to twist to stay on his lap.

“The truth is stranger than fiction,” Arthur nodded, tapping his glass gently against the other man’s. “Sophia, take it away.”

Shaking my head with a grin, I obliged. “You have to know, Tyche and I grew up in a very backwater, uneducated family, and also in hereditary poverty. So, it was perfectly normal - to us, anyway - to have pets like chickens, or goats… or rabbits… Food animals. Well, when I was eight, my uncle decided I was old enough for my first pet rabbit. A good, big one.” Tyche shook her head with a smirk, and I just shot her a glance as I kept speaking. “Well, Snickers wasn’t quite hand-tamed. And the only way to hand-tame a wild rabbit is to…. Well, hold it, honestly. So I would sit in the yard, with Snickers in my lap, and hold him while he ate grass.”

Maverick opened his mouth to ask the question he always loved to ask, but Charly gently put her hand on his wrist and shook her head.

I still answered the question I knew would have come. “I know, it sounds like the most harmless thing in the world, right? Pet rabbit, in my lap, chilling out and eating fresh grass. The thing is… Rabbits are burrowers. And they have these wicked claws on their back feet just for that. So, when you hold them, you have to hold their back feet together, or they kick to get away.”

Charly gasped softly as she realized what was coming, quickly clamping a hand over her mouth.

I nodded. “Yep. One day, Snickers got started, and I didn’t have his back feet as tightly as I should have, and… well, he opened my arm up from wrist to elbow before I could let him go. I screamed, my mother came out, took me to the emergency room. I’ve been terrified of rabbits ever since.”

“That’s awful!” Charly cried out, jumping up to come hug me.

As I patted her on the back, Coffey sat up straighter and shook his head. “Poppy, she’s okay now. And besides, didn’t you hear her mention how ‘backwater’ her family was?” He arched an eyebrow at me, eye gleaming. “I bet that rabbit was dinner that same night.”

“Bunny dumplings,” Tyche confirmed with a wink. “If we didn’t know what else to do with it, it was dumplings.”

Arthur shook his head with a chuckle. “I would have thought you would be upset that she ate her pet, Miss Harper.”

She made a rude noise in return. “Are you kidding!? The first thing I killed with a bow was a rabbit.” Head high, she flexed her biceps. “Do you know how fast those things are!?”

“Nice and fat one, too,” Coffey added. “And she found rosemary to roast it with.”

“And lemon balm,” she added. “And mint, but that stuff grows everywhere.”

I nearly groaned at the memory of spit-roasted wild game.

“So, you two have been through the whole After together?” Conor asked as dinner hit the table.

Charly nodded enthusiastically as she took a bite. “Yeah, we were friends Before - oh my gosh, this balsamic reduction is perfect, Tyche - and found each other not long after the End. After a while…” she trailed off, waving between them as much as she could, considering she was still sitting on Coffey’s lap.

We all nodded. I was, honestly, happy to see two people who knew each other that long survive the end of the world together. “So, I knew Charly did archery - she’s shown me a few times, but I’m terrible at it, turns out. What about you, Coffey?” I paused before realizing how intrusive that might be. “And if you don’t want to answer, it’s okay,” I rushed to clarify.

He smiled in reassurance. “I was security, Before, and… security After, in a way.” Chewing thoughtfully on a bite of bread, he glanced at something none of us could see. “I had a gun, at first - being a black man who grew up in NorthAm before it was NorthAm, it was more prudent than it was deviant at the time.”

“I don’t blame you,” I grumbled, while Tyche nodded and scowled furiously. We were horrifically embarrassed to be related to some of the reasons he needed a gun in the Before.

He tilted his head in a conciliatory fashion, as though he could tell what I was thinking. “In the After, bullets were hard to come by and… not very prudent, it turned out. They drew a lot of attention. Whereas our sneaky Charly…”

“Probably made traps,” Arthur finished nonchalantly. When a few of us glanced at him, he rolled his eyes. “Oh come on! No one can tell me the queen of pranks and engineering over here did not booby-trap anywhere she was living within an inch of her life and the lives around her.”

Charly beamed, while Coffey just chuckled. ��I honestly don’t believe the margin of error was quite that wide, to be frank. But it was safe enough that, before long, we accidentally had an enclave.”

I snorted in an attempt not to choke on my drink, while Conor and Maverick were both glancing at Arthur - the resident warlord.

Arthur just blinked in an almost placid manner. “I’m actually impressed. You started rebuilding by accident.”

“Do I look like someone who decides to take over the world?” Charly pointed out. After a chorus of Yes all around the table, she rolled her eyes. “It’s not my fault that hobbit holes are a strategically sound idea.”

“Apocalyptic Tolkien,” Tyche whistled. “I like it.”

“Sophia would have loved the library,” Coffey laughed.

My head shot up hard enough to make my neck hurt. “Library?”

He nodded. “Charly had the idea to go rescue every book we could find on camping, how-tos, engineering, historical infrastructure…”

“You just passed every class you are ever in, with flying colors,” Arthur nodded. “I had to make most of my people read - though we did end up with a library and decent bathing infrastructure.”

“Siege engines, Mr. Farro. We were building siege engines.”

He muttered something that sounded like “I will make up classes for you to pass,” but I was willing to bet that he would never admit it. Out loud, he just added “The fact that you not only read voluntarily but got other people to read without being forced has earned you extra credit.” She opened her mouth to object, but he held up a hand. “I’m being entirely serious, and no I won’t take it back.”

“I wasn’t going to try to survive an apocalypse without baths,” she scowled, stabbing a potato. “We may have ended the world, but we weren’t heathens.” Chewing so fast I thought she was going to choke, she immediately started asking Arthur about how he organized plumbing for his group.

“Trenches, aqueducts, and basically I got lucky because someone had a construction background. We had some records of how Romans built their sewers with something close enough to the materials we had to work with so… it worked out.

With that, the conversation took off in the direction of infrastructure for post-apocalypse settlements, with Conor adding his opinion everywhere possible. I knew there was no changing the topic, so I just shook my head and tried to keep up.

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#the miys #found family #aliens #apocalypse #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #earth is space australia #humans are space fae #hfy #science fiction #scifi #original scifi #original science fiction #original fiction #my writing

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beautifulterriblequeen · 5 years ago

Note

In the scene right after Soren and the troops almost find the assassins, Runaan turns to Rayla with a cutting voice and almost sounding hateful says, “You lied to me.” This scene hurts - she’s like his daughter. What do you think he was thinking? What was she thinking?

You mean this right here:

Where Runaan’s literally baring his teeth at her like he’s about to attack her?

Yeah, he’s very suddenly having a Really Bad Day.

But consider this look as well:

He looks gobsmacked, stunned, hurt even. How could you, Rayla? How could YOU do this? He’s taking her betrayal personally, despite his position as the group leader and Rayla’s boss. His words focus on the team’s immediate problems, but this look that flashes across his face is pure bewildered hurt. A crack in his armor. He loses his cool, and he yells at her. Because he loves and trusts Rayla and she doesn’t come through for him. He doesn’t understand yet that she wasn’t ready, that it’s his error in judgement that’s put them all here. His pride got in his own way, and he walked into this disaster like he stepped on a rake in the yard.

I’ve thought about this scene a lot, because despite how short it is, there’s a lot going on, besides that flash of angry pain on his face.

First of all, no one else says a darn thing. They stay out of it. It’s Runaan’s job as the squad leader to handle disciplinary issues. But you can tell by their faces they’re not happy with Rayla either.

Runaan’s mad about several things at once, because he’s a complicated elf in a complicated situation. He doesn’t know where to direct his anger yet because he hasn’t had any time to contemplate his own failure yet (but he gets there in like five minutes, don’t worry). So all he’s got right now is Rayla inexplicably flubbing up, after all the time and effort they both spent on her training.

She asked to go with him to avenge her parents’ honor, and then she flopped when he gave her the chance to prove herself early on by killing Marcos. He’s ghosted his best friends and now their daughter is going to get him killed. Ethari said her heart was too soft. His team had to sit someone out so Rayla could have their spot. And on top of all of that, Runaan clearly expects a close and truthful relationship with Rayla, no matter what roles they’re fulfilling at the moment. She’s seemingly betrayed him on just about every level there is: personal, professional, societal, familial.

He’s hurt. He’s furious. He plans his missions carefully and accounts for plenty of variables. But he never once calculated for Rayla letting him down.

Runaan’s sin is pride, and it shows itself in his overconfidence. He’s so certain that he’s right about Rayla that he makes a big ol’ Moonshadow promise to Ethari that he’ll come home safe. It sounds sweet as heck. But though he’s definitely trying to reassure Ethari that everything will be okay, he’s also basically saying “…because I’m right and you’re not.”

Ouch, fam.

Maybe Runaan trusts a little too much in the illusion of success. Just because all the pieces are there–Rayla’s parents’ honor can be redeemed, Rayla herself volunteered, Runaan is exactly who Rayla needs to help her redeem that honor because he’s the leader of the assassins being sent after Harrow, he and Rayla both care about each other and her parents very much, the big gash in their family stability can be mended if Rayla can avenge Avizandum’s death–*sucks in a deep breath* ...doesn’t mean that they have to fit together.

In fact, the one piece at the center of Runaan’s puzzle, the one critical piece that he absolutely needed to fit in order to hold everything together, was Rayla. And she didn’t fit. That wasn’t the puzzle where she belonged, after all.

But again, as of this moment, Ruanan hasn’t gotten there yet. Right here, Runaan’s struggling on several levels with the fact that he’s just been surprised. He thought he knew all the variables to this mission. He’s been on emotional lockdown for months, but in general, he seems very much to be an Art of War kind of elf. He thought he could predict the outcome, feels or no, because he believed he understood all of the situational moving parts. But Rayla lied to him, and he didn’t think she’d ever have anything to lie about. Not to him. And yet, there they are, struggling over truth when so very much is at stake.

His mission. Everyone’s lives. Her family’s honor. Their bond of trust. Xadia’s peace. Their family stability.

It was too much even for his practiced control. He lost his temper and he yelled at Rayla.

We didn’t get to see what happened between the end of S1E1 and the start of S1E2, but I bet it wasn’t more than a few minutes. Runaan didn’t get to be in charge of the assassins by being a hothead who couldn’t focus under pressure. He hopped right back on task, climbed that tree with just one elf–and it wasn’t Rayla–and focused on what to do next. And when we hear him speak in the tree, he’s all calm again. He’s got his temper under control, where it needs to be. His anger–his feelings–aren’t nearly as important as this mission going right. So he sets it aside and thinks his way through with the options he has remaining.

By the time he’s walking Rayla out to her rock, it’s been maybe ten minutes? since Rayla ruined the mission and doomed everyone to probable death. And you know what he does then? He talks softly with her, admits he was wrong, and he says as directly as he can–for a Moonshadow–that this isn’t her fault, it’s his. He misjudged her readiness. (Subtext: Ethari was right.)

Because his feelings aren’t important. He just needed to fix the fact that he lost his temper at his daughter for something that wasn’t her fault. And so he jumped straight into setting things right.

Yeah, he did lose his temper for a hot minute. But once he regained control again, he was so soft with his daughter. He expected to die in battle in a few hours. And yet he stayed calm and focused and gentle with her, giving her a task that would keep her alive and send her home safely to Ethari.

For the record, he never loses his temper again. The next time Rayla disobeys him, he’s cold with her. He knows what she’s capable of now, and he adds that to his calculations before the sun even sets.

And he still lets her go in the end. Runaan’s got a very pretty voice, but you gotta watch what he does to see how he truly feels about people (Tony Stark has the same issue, you can’t change my mind because I’m right).

There’s no contradiction in being furiously disappointed in someone and loving them so much that you’ll die to save them. That’s called unconditional love, and Runaan has that for Rayla (you can’t change my mind on that either).

But let’s look at Rayla, too, because her perspective is vital here. Not only to this scene, but to the show as a whole, and this scene is one of the defining moments for her early character development.

The very first words Rayla says to Runaan are an apology. She blurts it out in a tumble, needing to get that out first, before she even starts to explain. She’s known all along what could happen. She’s tried to ask him about it, but she was too scared to admit why, and Runaan just interpreted her question as first-mission jitters and reassured her. Which made her feel even worse.

She’s been living in a state of nervous worry all day, afraid of Runaan’s judgment if he found out what she’d done. How she let him down. Even if things went smoothly, his disappointment would weigh so heavily on her. She knows what’s at stake almost as much as he does. But her parents aren’t out here. The Dragon Queen isn’t out here. The Silvergrove isn’t out here. It’s Runaan who’s going to look her in the eyes and judge her if she fails. And he occupies so many roles for Rayla that she’ll feel she’s failed in every single aspect of their relationship.

Rayla already knows she’s in over her head. She’s just trying to hold her breath and survive until someone else can yank her out of the water. But she doesn’t make it, and neither does anyone else.

Rayla’s character arc begins with her not knowing herself. She’s never truly been tested. So she’s scrambling, emotionally and situationally, to cover her mistakes that day, to hide them from Runaan, as if they’re at home and she’s risking nothing more than grounding or extra chores. She truly doesn’t understand yet that lives are at stake, that they’ll be lost. Not until Runaan tells her--yells it at her, really.

And then, finally, it hits her.

This isn’t the look of an elf who regrets getting caught in a lie. This is the look of a child who’s having a horrible realization about what she’s done. She really didn’t get it until this moment.

In her defense, she probably thought Runaan could save the situation no matter what. She probably chided herself for doubting him as she convinced herself she could cover up her little sins. But then he lost his temper and told her he couldn’t save anyone. Not his team, not even himself.

This is Rayla’s “We’re not in the Silvergrove anymore” moment. There’s no family safety net, there’s no going home and trying again tomorrow. Training’s over. This is pass/fail time, and Rayla just failed.

It seems to come as a bit of a shock to her. I gotta wonder whether Runaan really prepared her for this side of being an assassin. Maybe he assumed she’d just follow obediently wherever he pointed because that’s what would get them home and back to normal as quickly as possible. Maybe he was too self-isolating in his feels and honestly didn’t pick up on her uncertainties. Maybe he just didn’t want to deal with them because they were soft and messy, and he thought he could train them out of her with hard work.

He done her wrong, however that fell out. Rayla was in no way ready to kill people. She was just an angry, scared, devastated kid who missed her parents. And Runaan was so far away from his feelings--by choice--that he turned her into a playing piece on his strategy board, hoping to use her the same as all his other assassins to set things right.

Rayla recovers nearly as quickly as Runaan does after he yells at her, though. She lets him give his speech on the way to the rock, but once he’s gone, she needs about ten seconds before she’s also making a plan to set things right. Runaan’s already angry and disappointed--it can’t get any worse, can it? ahaha oh Rayla And she can get back in his good graces if she can just convince herself to do what she volunteered to do in the first place.

She tries, she tries really hard. But fate gets in her way and we never learn whether Rayla could’ve killed Callum or not. Does Rayla know if she’d have been able to go through with it? I think deep down she does know: Runaan was right. She’d have hesitated again.

And from this utter failure to fit into Runaan’s world, to live up to his expectations, Rayla has to start building her character up all over again. She thought she had a solid identity built up, but it crumbled like a pyramid of stacked cups. With Callum, Ezran, and Zym, she learns who she really is underneath her fear, underneath her anger, her worry, her losses.

Underneath, Rayla’s a hero. And we got to see it rise to the surface.

Realizations that come packed with emotional punch tend to stick with us longer and harder. Whether we want to or not *coughRunaancough* we run on emotion as much as logic, if not more. So when Rayla got smacked with the truth of what her actions--and her inaction--had caused, it sank deep. And she determined, over the next couple of weeks, to work on fixing that part of her.

The talk she had with Ezran halfway up the Cursed Caldera really helped her understand that sometimes hesitating doesn’t come from fear, but from a place of disagreement. I think that added a critical piece of development to her character. Lujanne’s illusion telling her “Turn back before it gets you too!” is basically fate telling her not to be an assassin, because that way lies death. And she needs to process that she wasn’t afraid to do what Runaan asked. She just disagreed with him. Rayla chooses to be a hero because it’s the right thing to do. She doesn’t run to it because she’s afraid of becoming an assassin.

The biggest support in Rayla’s journey over the past month was Callum’s. He was right there when Rayla broke ways with Runaan. He knows who Runaan is in Rayla’s life. He knows that she failed him despite wanting to do what he asked. He knows about her parents, the Silvergrove, and the whole mess of Rayla’s emotional battlefield. And he loves her anyway.

Rayla just needs someone with feels to tell her that it’s okay to be who she is. That could’ve been Ethari, if he weren’t pounding metal all day long to channel his own feels. That could’ve been Runaan, if he weren’t busy being everyone’s rock of support and justice and action and results and focus. But it’s Callum. Because Callum was there, and he made Rayla his priority. Callum doesn’t have a village to support. He’s on his own, adventuring across Xadia. Rayla and Ezran are all he has. And he pours himself into both of them. They’re his village, his world. And that’s exactly what Rayla needs. It’s what she’s always needed.

Runaan sent her off on her character development quest. And Callum was there to catch her at the end.

#asks #sorry this took a while #rayla #runaan #ethari #callum #tdp meta #tdp analysis #moonfam #moonshadow assassins #rayla's character development

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wolffyluna · 4 years ago

Text

Fic Writer Meme

I was tagged by @thou-breath-of-autumns-being and @eldritch-elrics. Answers under the cut.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

135

2. What’s your total AO3 wordcount?

387198

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

There’s 22 of them, using a sensible-ish count. There’s Age of Sigmar, MCU, Dragon Age, Dragonshield (yes, the card sleeves), Dungeons and Dragons, Fire Emblem Awakening, Fire Emblem Three Houses, Guild Wars 2, Warhammer 40k, Heaven Will Be Mine, We Know The Devil, Keychain of Creation, Overwatch, Revolutionary Girl Utena, The Adventure Zone, The Magnus Archives, Silmarillion, Undertale, Voltron, TGCF, MDZS, Nirvana in Fire

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

‘The Heat Talking’ - Overwatch omegaverse. It’s popularity is very explicable :P.

‘A Stained Glass Variation of The Truth’ - Xianle Trio sickfic, featuring Mu Qing have a lot of feelings about looking after Xie Lian. This is one of the ones where I look at it’s popularity and go “[nods] my audience has Good Taste.”

‘Let Bastion Say ‘Fuck’‘ - Overwatch crackfic. I wrote for Overwatch a while ago. Those fics are very much not my best work. And Yet.

‘though shadows fall’ - TGCF HuaLian post nightmare hurt/comfort. (which reminds me, I should really write some HuaLian post nightmare hurt/comfort where Hua Cheng is the one who has a nightmare.)

‘All That Can Be Done’ - Overwatch Genyatta angst featuring Zenyatta dying of a God AI virus.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to, I really do, but... if I reply, the comment no longer shows up on the ao3 homepage. I do intend to reply, but the lure of having comments on my homepage wins out most times.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Probably either ‘All That Can Be Done’, the aforementioned fic where Zenyatta dies of a God AI virus and gets killed by Genji, or ‘Always Neater In Morality Plays’ where Sazed successfully poisons and kills Taako.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I don’t really write much crossover fanfiction?

...Though I am right now doing an rp featuring a character from a historical tv show set in the Tang dynasty accidentally time travelling into an AU version of the Handmaid’s Tale, so, uh, that’s probably the wildest crossover I’ve been involved in.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes. I’ve received a few “you’re characterisation is bad and you should feel bad” and “how dare you write something to your tastes and not my tastes!”

‘Always Neater In Morality Plays’ got a... bad reaction. Including a popular blogger vague posting about in a way that made it obvious exactly what fic it is and how grody they found it. They may not have linked the fic directly, but, uh, everyone knew. (And I may have also sent an ill-advised ask along the lines of ‘you have the right to vagueblog whatever fic you like, but for the love of peace could you at least check who is following you, so you don’t put ‘oh god, isn’t this fic the creepiest thing ever?’ straight onto the dash of the author?” And also a chunk of the TAZ fandom blocked me*.

And then several years later I found out ‘snuff’ meant something different than what I thought it meant (I thought it just meant ‘focus on major character death!) which added an embarassing glace cherry on top of that sundae of bad.

*This became sort of funny when some of these people got into the Magnus Archives. “Oh, so you draw the line at graphic depictions of poisoning, but someone exploding into a shower of worms is fine???”

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I do, yes. As for what kind-- well, my ao3 exists and is a relatively comprehensive survey.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nooooot to my knowledge?

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but if anyone wants to-- [makes ‘call me’ gesture].

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, not yet. I’d be potentially interested in doing one, maybe one of those ones where one person writes one chapter and then another person writes the next. At the moment I have a friend who is also interested in maybe doing that, we just don’t currently align on fandoms.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

[whine] Don’t make me choose between my babies!

14. What’s a wip that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

‘A Shattered Angel And A Broken Fist’. It was one of the earlier fics I wrote, back before I learned that if I wanted to write something long, I needed to have an idea of how it was going to end. I lost momentum and now... I honestly have no clue what should happen next? I have re-read and gone “yep, some stuff should happen. Not sure what stuff.” So while a lot of people like it and it would be nice to finish, its probably not happening.

15. What are your writing strengths?

Hmm, I think I’m reasonably good at dialogue? I’m honestly not sure what my strengths are. I don’t mean this in a low self confidence way, more that I know I don’t have an outside perspective on my writing, and like a fish, I’m not super aware of the water I’m swimming in.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

I have a bad habit of people have conversation in Blank Windowless Voids of No Description.

I also have a less bad habit of trying to fill those voids with a) geology and b) Australian fauna and flora. This causes problems when the pov character has no reason to know geology, and the story is not set in Australia.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I am one of those people who pretty much only speaks English, except for the a bit of “Je m’appelle Wolffy. Le chat est petit.” So I don’t write dialogue in other languages. Too much risk of embarrassing error, for not much gain, when you can just use italics or something.

I do have a lot of thoughts about translation conventions in fic where the characters would not be speaking English, and things like whether to live honoriffics. The thoughts are a bit unformed, but mostly revolve around being consistent at least within a fic (no characters being “Your Highness” in one paragraph and “dianxia” the next), trying to avoid the affect you sometimes find in anime fics were every third word is in Japanese, and also trying to maintain character voice. (I occaisionally have moments of “yes, there is an English translation for what this character calls this other character, but it’s not what they canonically say and it’s going to bother me deeply if I only use English.”)

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Depending on how you define ‘fandom’ and how you draw the line between historical fiction and historical rpf, my first fandom was the Bagoas fandom. Not the Bagoas what followed Alexander the Great around, no, the vizier who was around before him.

...I was like twelve at the time, just to make this weirder.

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

[whines harder] don’t make me pick between my babies!

#premium original content #wolffy writes fic

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kim-seungmine · 6 years ago

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give my heart a chance

title: give my heart a chance

characters: (fem) reader x han jisung of stray kids.

genres: romance, fluffy as hell (i just want them to kiss so bad!), college au, friends to lovers au, composer/music scorer!jisung, assistant director!reader

word count: 6.9k words

warnings: cursing, a little suggestive i guess? there’s a lot of sexual references but nothing too wild, lots of (attempted) flirting, jisung is whipped as hell, it gets very wordy sometimes IM SORRY.

synopsis: you and jisung have these theories about love, and there’s only one way to prove yourselves right: testing them on each other.

a/n: writing this gave me so much joy, and writing from jisung’s perspective is super fun. lastly, sorry for the lame ass title, but i hope you’ll enjoy! please tell me there aren’t many grammatical/spelling errors i’ve read this over and over again.

Verse 1: “Date me, so I can write love songs about you.”

Han Jisung has a lot of ambitions. Being the world's best composer, buying a whole island for himself, and flexing his Rolex watches are on his list, but for now finishing his demo for the upcoming production meeting will be enough.

Maybe he's not so ambitious after all.

The door clicks open and reveals his roommate Lee Minho, his hair disheveled but eyes twinkling. Jisung raises his eyebrow. "Did you pass out on the street or something? What time is it?"

It's now Minho's turn to raise his eyebrow. "I had this amazing date but to put it simply, your man got laid."

Jisung sighs and knocks his head on the desk. "Lucky you."

"Your time will come, my friend," Minho assures him flatly, lying on the couch with a contented sigh. "What time is the meeting?"

"9 A.M." Jisung yawns, lifting his head to glance at his watch. "Fuck, I'm late."

Jisung doesn't know why he struggles to finish this project. His senior Bang Chan asked him to join his graduation project and help with the scoring. Jisung is willing to do anything that boosts his resume, but so far the project is only causing him headache. He's Han Jisung, the best student in his batch who almost always forgets to finish his assignments but always manages to ace them. He also sings and raps—even freestyling. He's the musical genius. Why is this happening to him?

Minho mumbles a sleepy good luck before passing out. Jisung is about pack his laptop when his phone vibrates. Your name appears on his screen, making him groan.

"Han Jisung you're late," you deadpan before he gets to say hello.

"I'm on my way."

“Get your ass here in 10 minutes or..."

"Or what?"

He can hear you tapping your pen on the table. "...I have nothing to threaten you with."

Jisung chuckles. Do you know how cute you are even over the phone? "I'll be there in 10."

Chan and the rest of the crew are already inside the room when Jisung arrives. He slowly pulls up a chair beside you, trying his best to ignore your glare.

"About the wooden table we wanted last week, have we got it?" Chan asks.

Kim Seungmin, the head of production design team, nods his head. "The color is a bit different from your moodboard because the one you wanted was slightly more expensive than expected, is this still okay?" He pauses to show Chan a picture on his phone. The director examines it before passing Seungmin's phone to you. "What do you think, Y/N?"

"It's a bit different but still fits the overall mood in my opinion. A little bit warmer, but I don't think it will disturb the ambience."

Chan smiles. "Hmm, I agree. Good job, Seungmin. And that's it, everyone! Thank you for coming! We only have 3 more scenes to film so hang in there, okay?"

The whole room lets out sighs of relief, leaving the room one by one.

"Jisung, can I talk to you?"

"Just curse at me. You don't have to be so nice."

Chan laughs. "You know why I asked you to help me, right? I know what you're capable of, so tell me, what's bothering you?"

Jisung pulls out the film script from his backpack, showing Chan the parts he's circled with red marker. "I finished the scoring for other scenes, but I can never seem to think of anything that fits this one scene."

He has played the scene in his head over and over. The man confesses his feelings to the woman he loves dearly, but also says goodbye to her. The woman only nods, lips curling into a small smile, and waves him goodbye.

It doesn’t make sense. Why would they do that? People who love each other stay together unless their parents disagree or someone dies. Or at least, they try to be together until the feelings fade. Why would they say goodbye before even starting anything?

Chan stands up, patting Jisung on his back as he’s making his way to the door. “I don’t want to limit your creativity or make you create music only based on my vision, but here’s something to think about: sometimes it’s not about fate or timing. It’s about choice. See you next week, kids!”

Both of you slump into your chairs the moment he’s out of sight. “I hate it when he’s being cryptic like that. Why can’t he just tell you what he wants? He’s the director anyways, everything has to be according to his vision.” You turn to Jisung who’s scratching his head. “Please tell me you understood what he said.”

“I understand,” Jisung answers. “Well, theoretically. Do you?”

“No one will truly understand it the way Chan does, but I understand the message he wants to tell.”

“Will you just help me then?” Jisung begs. “We don’t have much time left and I’m sure you’ll kill me if I submit the demo a minute late so let’s make our lives easier and help each other out, shall we?”

Jisung does need help—especially since you’ll be extremely critical—but he also wants to spend more time with you. He doesn’t know if Minho going on dates motivates him to do the same, and that’s what he wants to figure out.

“Okay,” you say. “But the moment you annoy me too much I’ll leave you to rot alone”

Jisung smiles so brightly his cheeks hurt. “When do you finish class today?”

It wasn’t love at first sight. The first few weeks working with you was hard that he wanted to take a revenge on you by asking Minho to break your heart. His roommate specializes in breaking people’s hearts, but he figured you would break Minho’s heart instead.

After a while, Jisung would rather you break his heart than anybody else’s.

“I hope you like Americano,” Jisung says. You avert your gaze to two cups of Americano on the table, nodding as you sit in front of him. “Thanks. Is the cheesecake mine too?”

He chuckles, sliding the plate to you. “It’s mine, but you can have it. I wanted to buy you one but I don’t know what you like.”

“You dared to assume that I like Americano but couldn’t decide what cake I would like?”

Jisung wonders whether he should be honest with you.

“I almost did,” he confesses. “But buying you cake feels too personal, isn’t it? This will feel like a date.”

You unexpectedly pout, and Jisung almost has a heart attack. “Stop flirting, you’re so bad at it.”

“Once I start flirting for real, you’ll be madly in love with me in 10 minutes.”

You slide the plate back to him. “I don’t know why we’re having this conversation,” you sigh. “Let’s start. You’re the one who wants me to help you get your shit done.”

Jisung opens his laptop to show you his drafts. “I honestly don’t know if this scene is supposed to be sad,” he explains, playing one of them. You listen carefully, glancing at him every few seconds. When the music stops, you close his laptop.

“Do you believe in love, Han Jisung?”

Jisung stops slicing his cheesecake, puts his fork down, and looks into your eyes. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Just answer me.”

“Yes? I’ve been in love before, that’s for sure.”

“Do you think the man loves the woman?”

“He does.”

You look satisfied with his answer. For a few minutes, you don’t ask him any other question, just sipping your coffee while examining your surroundings. “That’s it? You asked me all those big questions then just stopped?”

“Your theories are interesting,” you point out. “You believe in love and thinks that the couple needs to be together, but you’re not thinking from their perspective yet.”

“What’s your theory then?” he asks.

“My theories… about love?”

“Yeah. If you don’t mind sharing.”

You shake your head. “It’s okay, I think it will be fun. Well, this is what I’ve always believed in: boys like you will never be heartbroken.”

“Boys like me?”

“Boys like you, who date just for the sake of dating itself or getting laid.”

Jisung panics, waving his hands in front of your face. “Y/N I’m not some fuckboy I swear to God.”

“I know you’re not,” you clarify. “Boys like you just don’t think too much about anything, don’t really use your feelings. You date you when you want to date, break up when you want to break up, stay single for a while then starting to feel empty and thinking that dating someone is the only solution.”

“Aren’t we all like that?! Tell me you’ve never thought of going on Tinder when you’re lonely!” he protests. “For a film major, you have a lot of time.”

“I have to observe people in order to survive,” you laugh. “Where do you think I get ideas? It’s from other people.”

Jisung is still forming a smart comment in his head when you tilt your head, flashing him a smile so sweet like you didn’t just indirectly diss him. “Your turn. What’s your theory?”

It’s kind of hard to believe, but Jisung has quite a lot of theories about love. He’s not what you’ll call experienced, but he knows enough to come up with his own theories. “Which one hurts more, dumping someone or getting dumped?”

“Getting dumped, of course. That’s not even a theory anymore.”

Jisung wiggles his index finger. “It’s the other way around. Before you break up with someone, you think of hundreds of reasons—whether blaming yourself or the other person. You’ll keep thinking about things you hate about them and shitty experiences with them before coming up with a perfect breakup scenario. And the whole process, Princess, is agonizing.”

“Wow,” you breathe out, amazed. “You’re something else.”

“Jisung-ah!”

Minho jogs to your table, stopping when he realizes that Jisung isn’t alone. “Thank God I found you,” he whispers urgently. “Listen, I know you’re in the middle of a date but this is emergency.”

“What is it?”

“Are you coming home tonight?” Minho asks.

Jisung frowns. “Of course I am. I need to sleep so bad.”

“Are you sure? If so, then…” Minho proceeds to type something on his phone before passing it to Jisung. The latter coughs at the content, pulling out his wallet from his back pocket and handing it to Minho. “If you lose it I’m going to kill you,” he threatens.

“Are you sure you’re coming—”

“Don’t worry, he’s definitely coming home. I’m not sleeping with him if that’s what you’re implying.”

Minho laughs, bowing playfully at you as he backs away. “Good choice!” he yells. “Have fun, you two!”

You giggle while Jisung curses under his breath. “He asked you for a condom, didn’t he?” Once again, you casually smile at him, eyes twinkling. Jisung slowly nods, and you burst into a hearty laugh. “I caught you carrying condoms in your wallet after you insisted that you’re not a fuckboy. Nice move, Han Jisung.”

Jisung groans.

“Are you done?” Jisung asks over the phone. After your “date,” it’s become a routine for him to visit you at the bookstore you work at to discuss the project (while subtly flirting with you because he wants to see you getting all sassy).

“Not yet,” you answer lowly. “My manager is here. You can come inside and wait.”

He forces his legs to walk faster and enters the bookstore. You wave at him from the cashier, gesturing at him to sit on one of the benches. You continue to serve the remaining customers, smiling at Jisung once in a while. He finds himself returning your smile with a bigger one, and he wonders how to convince you that he’s not as bad and shallow as you think.

A crazy idea pops into his mind, causing his palms to sweat. But he wants to do it, to at least try and see how you react. Jisung’s heart races when you say goodbye to your manager and approach him. You nudge his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

You shiver as soon as you open the door. “Where do you want to work?”

Jisung gestures at you to keep walking, giving you his phone and airpods. “You can just listen and give me feedback. I’ll edit once I get home, you must be tired.”

You keep repeating the song throughout the way to the bus station. You turn to Jisung when you’re done, punching his arm lightly. “Well done, this is much better. You can actually show it to Chan.”

“No way. Really?”

You press play once again, bopping your head to the soft beats. “The man tells the woman he loves her after a long time. It’s a happy moment, an achievement. Then he bids her farewell because he knows—both of them know—that the relationship will end badly. It’s sad, but relieving because at least they know what they feel about each other. The music is not sad, but it’s not happy either. It’s hopeful because the characters are going to start another journey, although without each other.”

“But you end it with that little piano sounds, so there’s a tinge of sadness left,” you continue. “And that’s wonderful. I think Chan will like it a lot.”

Jisung lets out the breath he doesn’t know he was holding. “You interpret it better than I ever will,” he mutters. “Thank you. I hope Chan won’t fire me now.”

“He won’t. He loves you and knows you’re talented,” you tell him. “Will you help me for my future projects? We have to create a short film for finals. I haven’t told you this, but I really love your style. I wish I could hear your songs more often.”

“I-I could just, y-you know, write you songs,” Jisung stutters. This is it. He has to tell you now or he will regret it for the rest of his life.

“Huh?”

“I can write you all the songs you want. I can even write songs about you.”

“What songs? Like diss tracks?”

“I take requests, so I can write you a diss track if you want me to. And I can definitely write love songs about you.”

“How is that possible? You’re unbelievable.”

Jisung stops, clearing his throat before focusing his eyes on you. “Date me,” he enunciates. “Date me, so I can write love songs about you. Maybe later you’ll realize that boys like me aren’t always fuckboys. At least, I’m not. And I’ll give you the privilege to break my heart. I know you can do it.”

You gape at him. “You’re asking me out just to test our theories?”

Great, you think that it’s a stupid idea. Of course it is, why would you want to date him just to—

“Okay,” you add. “I’ll go out with you.”

“Holy shit,” Jisung yelps. “I thought you would beat me up.”

Leaning on the lamppost, you wink at him. “It’ll be fun. But I’ll break all of your bones the moment you start disrespecting me.”

Jisung stands straighter at your tone. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“So, what now? You’re taking me home?” you suggest.

“If you’ll let me.”

You extend your hand, and Jisung quickly takes it before you change your mind. The two of you walk in comfortable silence until you reach your neighborhood. “Will you have lunch with me tomorrow?” Jisung shyly asks, tightening his grip on your hand.

“Sure!” you chirp, squeezing his hand before letting go. “Good night, Jisung.”

“Good night Y/N.”

You give him a small wave, a cheerful smile plastered on your face.

Jisung waves back, unable to erase the stupid grin on his face. Oh, you’re so going to break his heart, and he won’t even try to stop you.

Verse 2: “I just want to be yours, completely yours.”

“You did not just tell me you like horror movies.”

The two of you are currently standing in front of the self-ticket machine, bickering over what movie you should watch. In turns out, your movie taste clash; Jisung lives for horror movies while you despise them. People behind him start snickering, so Jisung pulls you away from the queue.

“While we’re at it, tell me what kind of movies you watch,” he begins, trying to hide his amusement at your frustration. “I love everything, except for horror. But the ones I often watch may put you to sleep.”

“And now, if you don’t want to watch It 2, what do you want to watch?”

“Nothing really interests me,” you express. “It’s fine, let’s just watch this. I’ll pick the movie next time.”

Jisung beams. “My princess is so understanding,” he coos.

You roll your eyes at him, but not pushing him away when he wraps his arm around your shoulder. “How do you not cringe everytime you call me that.”

He pokes your cheek. “Because I know you secretly like it, and I’ll do anything that makes you happy.”

“Wow, you sound like you’re really in love with me,” you blurt out, completely unaware of the effect your words have on him. Who knows? Maybe I will, soon.

Three hours later, Jisung figures that you’re already playing with his feelings. During the entire movie, you didn’t flinch nor close your eyes. You didn’t even hold his hand for support (to be very honest, Jisung was quite disappointed at this).

“Y/N.”

You get startled at his voice, automatically stopping on your track. “Now everything startles me.” You clutch your chest in shock. “I’m sure I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

“For someone who doesn’t like horror, you endured everything well inside the theater.”

“Curiosity always gets the best of me.”

“You could’ve chosen another movie, and I would be okay with that. Next time don’t force yourself, okay?”

“It’s something you love,” you explain. “I know you won’t force me to do things I don’t like, and I won’t force you either, but if it’s something that I can still tolerate then I don’t mind. It’s not like we can’t compromise, right?”

There you go, saying thoughtful things that warms Jisung’s heart so nonchalantly. He only hums in response, picking up his pace since you’ve started running. “I’m running late!” you half-yell before sprinting towards the bookstore.

After a few blocks, both of you arrive at the bookstore, almost running out of breath. Jisung fixes your hair in a haste. “I’ll pick you up later? Watch another movie, maybe? A funny one so you’ll be able to sleep?”

You scrunch up your nose. “Nah, it’s okay. I’ll just call you if Pennywise appears in my room.”

“Oh I’m sure you’re scarier than him, Princess, don’t worry.”

Jisung is prepared for a punch on his shoulder or strings of cussing words from you.

But you reward him with a peck on his cheek instead.

It’s been two hours since your shift was supposed to end, but Jisung hasn’t heard anything from you. His messages are unread and you won’t pick up his call. Minho watches his friend paces back and forth in the living room.

“Dude just pick her up or go to her place, you’re stressing me out!”

“I don’t know if she will like it. She did say I didn’t need to pick her up.”

“Are you really dating her? You’ve never been like this before.”

Jisung plops onto the sofa, massaging his temples. Minho won’t understand, especially since he’s the one who totally fits your “boys like you” criteria. “I am, but the whole thing is different.”

“Like, how?” Minho deadpans.

“We’re dating to test our theories about each other. About love.”

“So you two are just fooling around?”

“No!” Jisung insists. “It’s not like that. We’re dating, but I have to admit that things are getting more serious than I expected.”

Minho rubs his chin. “Isn’t that what you want? You seem to really like her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.”

The doorbell suddenly rings. Minho opens the door, surprised to see you there. “Y/N?” he gasps. “Are you okay? Are you crying?”

Jisung’s ears perk up at the word crying and he immediately rushes to you. He cradles your face, examining you from head to toe. “I was so worried Y/N. What the hell happened?” he questions. Minho grabs his phone and wallet from the buffet, mouthing that he’ll give the two of you some time alone.

You circle your arms around Jisung’s waist after Minho closes the door, wetting his sweatshirt with your tears. Jisung automatically takes you into his embrace, stroking your hair in the hopes of calming you down. “Some old man tried to make a pass at me,” you sob. “I almost slapped him but my friends stopped me. The owner has banned him from coming.”

Jisung tightens his hold on you, guilt starting to overtake him. He should have come to you, he should have just come to you. Why did he hesitate? “Motherfucker,” he splutters. “God—I’m so sorry Y/N.”

You shake your head. “Why are you saying sorry?” you try to laugh. “I’m fine, Jisung. I’m just… mad. And a little bit scared, but I’m okay. Seriously though, men have no manners.”

“I know,” he replies. “I’m sorry. I hope it won’t ever happen again. I won’t let it happen, okay? I’ll keep you safe.”

You snort, pulling away to pinch his cheeks. “Then who’s gonna protect you? I know you watch horror movies well but everything else scares you.”

Jisung’s lips stretch into a loving smile, wiping your tears with his hands. “I’ll try my best. You can trust me,” he says. “Should I take you home now?”

You seem to consider his offer before burying your face in chest again. Jisung hopes you can’t hear his heart beating violently due to the close proximity. “Jisung, you okay?” you hum. “Your heart is beating so fast.”

Of course, he won’t be able to fool you.

“Yeah. I’m just glad you’re not hurt.”

“Can I sleep over?”

Jisung separates you from his body before you can hear his heart jumping out of its ribcage. “All I can think about is Pennywise now,” you sigh, searching for approval in his eyes. Jisung feels his legs weaken, so he squeezes your shoulders. “You sure? Do you feel comfortable sleeping in my room with Minho sleeping next door? Oh fuck it, why am I encouraging you to change your mind? Of course you can sleep over. You can trust me, and you can trust Minho too. And it’s not that I’ll even let him touch a strand of your hair!” he blabbers.

Your eyes light up at the mention of Minho’s name. “Lee Minho is hot, I don’t mind having him around.”

“You go around declaring that men have no manners and boys like me are fuckboys yet you don’t mind having Lee fucking Minho around?!”

Once again, you wrap your arms around his waist, and Jisung wastes no time in returning your hug although his eyes are angry now. “I have you, right? You’re not an asshole, you won’t let anything happen to me.”

Jisung sighs in defeat, resting his chin on top of your head. “You’re impossible.”

After putting you to bed (with much difficulty because you kept commenting at how messy his room is), Jisung finds himself lying on the couch, staring at his room. Minho is already back and is now asleep (but not before he gave his roommate a whole warning to not say anything that can damage Jisung’s reputation).

Are you sleeping well? Are you still sad? Do you really think that Minho is hot or were you just playing with him?

His questions seem to reach your mind because seconds later, you slide the door open. You walk towards him, kneeling down to see him better. “JIsung-ah,” you call out softly. “Are you asleep?”

Jisung blinks, heat rising to his cheeks because you’re staring at him so intensely. “Not yet. What is it? You can’t sleep?”

“You can sleep inside, it’s cold out here,” you whisper. “It’s fine, I can sleep anywhere like a log.” He rubs your hand. “Go back to sleep.”

Jisung sits up when you don’t budge. “What if I also want you to be next to me?” you murmur, but he hears everything loud and clear. He carries you back inside his room with saying a word, hoping that this isn’t just a test he will fail.

He lays you down gently, which surprises himself since he tends to do everything in a rush. Jisung settles himself beside you, ready to finally sleep when you scoot closer and put your arms around his torso. “Thank you for today,” you say.

Jisung turns around to face you, slowly pulling you into his arms. “What did I do?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“Being there for me,” you reply. “You didn’t doubt me, you didn’t blame me.”

Jisung lifts your chin so he can look into your eyes. “Why would I blame you? You really should’ve kicked that man’s ass.”

You break into a smile, and Jisung can’t hold himself anymore. The feeling of you in his embrace, your smile, the way you look at him, and the warmth of your words are driving him crazy. Jisung realizes it’s always been like that since the very first time he met you: you’ve always driven him crazy.

“Y/N.” He licks his lips. “I want to start over. I want us to date without thinking about the goddamn theories. I don’t care about them anymore. I just want to be yours, completely yours. I’m not saying this only because I want to date, I only want to date you. And I don’t want to think about breaking up with you once we finish proving those theories. I won’t be able to handle it, I like you too much.”

You blink at him, staring at him long and intense Jisung feels like burning. You cup his face, tilting your head to peck him on the lips. It ends way too soon for his liking, but he already wants to faint.

“Aren’t I your Princess already? That means you’re automatically mine.”

Jisung chuckles, a huge burden is lifted off his chest as you snuggle to him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Nice move, Han Jisung. Confessing to me when I’m in your bed and feeling sentimental as hell.”

“Sorry Princess, but you’re too irresistible. I just gotta make you mine right here, right now.”

“Go to sleep.”

“As you wish,” he sighs dreamily, peppering kisses on the top of your head until you fall asleep.

“Where are you? The food is ready.”

Jisung rummages through his pile of clothes on the floor, picking up a random black shirt and a pair of ripped jeans. His phone is on the bed, speaker on so he could actually get ready while you’re hollering at him.

“I’ll be on my way soon, Princess. Please don’t get mad,” he pleads.

“I took a day off from my part-time job for you, Jisung. But you’re acting like my time isn’t precious at all,” you answer, a little softer this time. Jisung chews the inside of his cheek; you’re right. He’s always late although he barely has time to meet you thesedays.

He swears he doesn’t mean to, but whenever he’s about to meet you, misfortunes always happen: his alarm doesn’t go off, he has an appointment he can’t cancel, or he’s too tired to get out of his bed. You get into petty arguments whenever you meet, but you forgive him every single time although Jisung himself knows he’s being stubborn. As he slips on his shirt, Jisung wonders if this is the beginning of the end.

“Okay,” you finally mumble. “Be careful.”

Jisung ends the call, running as fast as he can to your apartment complex. He considers taking the stairs, but remembers that you live on the 20th floor and decides to wait for the elevator. When he finally enters your flat, his eyes brim with tears.

You’re sleeping on the sofa, two portions of jjajjangmyeon along with a bowl of caramel popcorn are on the table. The television is on, ready to play Along with the Gods because Jisung wants to re-watch it tonight.

He’s the luckiest man on Earth yet he keeps disappointing you. It pains him how small mistakes may really destroy both of you.

Jisung crouches down, wiping his tears quickly before planting a kiss on your lips. You stir, opening your eyes.

“Hi,” you yawn. “Sorry, I fell asleep.”

“I missed you,” Jisung rasps. “So much.”

He pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, his tense muscles relaxing when you hum knowingly against his skin. “I missed you too. Wanna talk about it?” you offer, patting his back softly.

“About what?”

“You had a bad day.”

“And you’re sleepy,” he retorts. “Let’s just sleep.”

“Not before you tell me what’s bothering you.”

Jisung gives up, deciding to tell you how swamped he is with projects and how everything doesn’t seem to go his way. You listen to him—although through half-lidded eyes—giving him all suggestions and reassurance he doesn’t even know he needs.

Sometimes Jisung still thinks about the theories both of you wanted to prove months ago. He remembers how sure he was that yours was wrong. He was not an insensitive asshole.

Maybe he is now. And you don’t deserve it.

The thing is, Jisung is selfish. Losing you is something he fears the most, and now, surrounded by your warmth and soft caresses, he makes a silent promise to fix everything. To make himself worthy of you and your love again.

“Y/N.” He lifts himself up just enough to see your face, smiling at your sleepy face. “I love you.”

You freeze, eyes boring into his, trying to look for traces of lies. He stays in his position and waits for you to say something, anything, before his heart explodes and breaks into a million pieces.

“You do, now?” you reply, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

Jisung waits for you to say it back, but you soon fall asleep in his arms.

Jisung had the best dream ever. He dreamed of going on vacation with you, and you always wore your brightest smile that he loved so much. But that wasn’t even the best part.

In his dream, you told him that you loved him.

In reality, Jisung wakes up to an empty bed. He checks his phone, relieved to see some messages from you.

princess : hv some cereal before you go, but pls wash the dishes

princess: dont forget to make the bed or ur dead

me: im a slave 4 u, ma’am, dont worry

The tone of your messages doesn’t change, and for now it’s enough to soothe his heart. Jisung makes the bed as you requested before examining your room. He’s seen all his photos you pinned on the wall, but now you’ve written comments underneath some of them.

Jisung’s eyes fall on a photo of him munching on his chocolate. The comment reads, “Please eat more, you’re too skinny.”

Another photo sees him sitting in front of his laptop with his headphones on. “You’re the coolest composer, you know that, right?”

Jisung recognizes the last photo as the one taken during one of your beach dates (in which he dragged Minho to be his designated photographer). You had begged him for a piggy back ride, and he eventually caved. Jisung flaunted his gummy smile as you pressed your lips on his right cheek. Underneath the photo, you wrote, “Jisung-ah, I’m so happy with you. Thank you.”

He wonders why you keep all these thoughts to yourself. These are your love letters for him, they beat all the “Han Jisung, I love you too” scenarios Jisung have inside his head. Why wouldn’t you just tell him that? Is it because he hasn’t been the best boyfriend thesedays?

After taking a photo of your “love shrine” (for blackmail purposes), Jisung leaves his notebooks inside one of your drawers, the ones filled with lyrics he wrote for you and about you. You wrote him the sweetest love letters, and he’s going to fulfill the promise he made when he asked you out.

You deserve to know every little detail of his feelings for you.

“Y/N… about last night… are you mad at me? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You stop flicking through channels, dropping the remote to ponder Jisung’s question. “Yeah, I am,” you admit. “But we’ve fought enough. I don’t wanna waste my energy.”

“So you’re going to let me be a jerk?! What if I never snapped out of it? What if I never apologized to you? Or feel guilty?! You have to beat the shit out of me, Y/N. You can’t be this nice!”

You prop your chin on your knees, closing your eyes. “Last night, I planned to break up with you.”

Jisung pales at your confession. “Princess, I’m—”

“Please hear me out first,” you cut him off. “These past few weeks have been tough, I honestly thought you cheated on me. When you were late again last night, I told myself to end things with you. But then I fucking fell asleep, and then as soon as I saw you, I didn’t want to do it anymore. Plus you looked like a mess last night.”

“I kept wondering if we’re trapped in a toxic relationship. And it angered me. I hated myself for keep wanting to forgive you. When you told me that you love me… I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t know whether you were being sincere or just caught up in the moment.”

Tears start rolling down your cheeks. “That’s why I didn’t answer. This morning, I decided to give you one last chance.”

“Did I… ruin it?” Jisung asks sheepishly, wiping your tears gently.

You shake your head. “I acted like nothing happened, but you still apologized. And complained about me not telling you about this sooner.”

“So that means…?”

“That means,” you begin. “Your theory is right. Dumping someone feels worse than getting dumped. Yesterday, memories of us fighting flooded my mind as I created a whole speech in my head about how much I hated you. It made me wanna explode, and that was the worst feeling I’ve ever experienced. Resentment is tiring, but the moment you stepped into the living room I know I don’t hate you.”

Jisung heaves a sigh of relief, placing his hand on top of yours carefully. “And your theory is wrong. You broke my heart. You truly did. I told you I love you, and when you didn’t say it back… I felt horrible... although I know it’s all my fault. You have me wrapped around your finger, Princess, I hope you know that.”

“Anyways, I saw your lovely comments for me on the photos,” he teases, knowing you meant to keep it a secret.

“Fucking hell!” you yell. “I forgot to hide them!”

“Why don’t you tell me now, then.”

Your lips curl into a teasing smile. “If I tell you I love you now, will you kiss me?”

Before you even properly say it, Jisung is already hovering over you, cupping your face and crashing his lips on yours. It just occurs to him that he’s never kissed you like this; it was always light pecks here and there. Jisung doesn’t know how he survived that, because nothing beats feeling your lips moving against his. Nothing beats the feeling of you tugging his hair, sighing in contentment when he starts exploring your warm mouth. Jisung tries to remember every single sensation; the way you curl your arms around his neck, the way you keep pulling him down to you as if he’s not close enough, the way you squirm as he nibbles your bottom lip gently.

“I love you,” you whisper in between feverish kisses he leaves every now and then. He pauses, finally letting himself breathe. You hold stars in your eyes, and those stars are all for him to see. It’s overwhelming, so all Jisung does is pressing another kiss on your lips. Moments later, when the lack of oxygen forces him to stop, he pulls away.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, trying to stop himself from kissing you again because he needs to tell you this first.

“For…?”

“Loving me.”

Chan’s graduation project has finally been screened, earning a standing ovation from everybody present. He invited all his crew to dinner, which has turned into a congratulatory party for Jisung and you. “You two didn’t disappoint me,” Chan exclaims. “I guess you’re the reason why Jisung finished his demo early, right Y/N?”

You wink cockily at him. “Han Jisung is nothing without me.”

Chan ruffles your hair before raising his hand to get everyone’s attention. “My last few months as a student felt amazing thanks to you guys. I’m sure you all know how thankful I am for each of you, so I won’t bore you with my speech. Now, Seungmin, I believe you have something to say.”

Kim Seungmin stands up, unfolding a piece of paper that sparks mixed reactions from the crowd. “Lee Felix, Hwang Hyunjin, Choi Jisu,” he announces. “Each of you owes ₩20,000 to me, Chan, and Shin Yuna because you guys freaking lost!” He claps, then turning to both of you. “Jisung and Y/N, thank you for making us rich!”

Everyone cheers while you and Jisung look dumbfounded. “All of you bet on us?!” you scream in disbelief. “Whoa I can’t believe you guys! Even you, Chan?”

The senior only chuckles. “Everyone was stressed out at how slow you two were but you guys were so annoyingly cute we couldn’t help ourselves!”

Seungmin collects all the money from the lost participants before distributing it to each of the winners. When he gets to Chan, the latter shakes his head. “Just use the money for round 2, I’ll pay the rest as well.”

The whole room cheers again, quickly getting up from their seats and debating about which place to go. You immediately start interrogating Seungmin, wanting to know what exactly happened during the whole production process.

Jisung taps Chan’s shoulder. “I believe I haven’t thanked you.”

Chan frowns. “For what?”

Jisung slips his hands into his jeans pocket, smiling at you as you turn around to check on him. “For making the whole project happened. For the whole, ‘Sometimes it’s not about fate or timing. It’s about choice.’ It kept me going, even when I thought Y/N and I weren’t meant to be. There are times when we just have to keep trying, aren’t we?”

“Well, thank you for remembering what I said. But it wasn’t me. It happened because you did try, Jisung. All of us have to make choices at some point, but not a lot of people actually have strength and will to do that. You did, so kudos to you. I’m trying to do the same myself, wish me luck, okay?”

Jisung snorts. “This is getting sappy, but thank you. And I will.”

Both boys laugh, exchanging playful slaps on each other’s back until you come up to them.

“Hey Chan, can I borrow Jisung for a sec?”

Chan shoves Jisung towards you. “If I catch you two sneaking out before round 2 is done, I’ll end you!”

You wave at Chan, and Jisung is now glued to your side. “What is it?” he asks, wrapping his arms around your shoulder. “I found your notebooks.”

He grins. “You did? I thought I’d have to tell you about them. They’re nice, right? I’ve recorded some of them, I’ll let you listen later.”

You cross your arms. “The ones in the black notebook are nice. I’m a goddess and I agree. But what are you gonna say about the red notebook?”

Jisung smirks at your question, dropping a quick kiss on your lips. “What about it? You wanna make everything I wrote there come true? I can do that, Princess. Whenever you want,” he whispers seductively.

His original plan was only to leave you the black notebook that contains all the sweetest lyrics he’s ever written. But then he thought it wouldn’t be fair if you only know that side of him. You have every right to know about his sexy thoughts too.

“I just want you to know me. All of me. And everything I feel about you, including the things I really, really want to do to you,” he continues.

You tiptoe to whisper into his ear, “Maybe later.”

“Later?!” Jisung shouts. “Later as in tonight?!”

You shrug, and now Jisung is dragging you to the opposite direction of where his friends are going. “Chan hyung! You can nag us later but we really need to go home right now!”

Everyone whistles, including Chan, so Jisung takes it as a yes and quickens his pace. You, meanwhile, are looking at the snacks stalls along the street.

“I’m still hungry. Let’s stop by to buy hotteok first.”

Groaning in frustration, Jisung knows he has no choice but to follow you. As he watches you enjoying your hotteok, he thinks about the moment when he desperately wanted to prove you wrong.

Jisung has nothing to prove now. You gave his heart a chance. You gave him a chance, and he’ll make sure to cherish you as long as he can.

more a/n: and it’s done! This story seems simple but writing it, I think the theme is a little bit hard to grasp. I hope you guys can understand everything that Jisung feels...

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autoirishlitdiscourses · 4 years ago

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Discourse of Sunday, 29 August 2021

Preparing for and serving as a bridge to question 1 and 2 and pointed to. Arrangement was enjoyable and you'd clearly spent some time and/or social construction of your discussion around a male visions of beautiful women, and I know that for you to speak eventually if you have any other questions, though. Two student musical performances have been doing. You reacted to it? I'm sorry you're so inclined. If you have any questions, OK? Sigh. I felt like you were also a fertile hunting ground. Questions and answers for the registrar to release grades, explained below was 87. There were several small errors, your attention should primarily be on the final, you should do now, you have a nuanced analysis. Good question. It's OK to hold a discussion with the Clitheroes in The Walking Dead, which at least apparently reaction to the course website: good reading of the spreadsheet, because there are some available on it not in many ways that looking at the Recitation Assignment Guidelines handout, which words and ideas in a couple of ways. Too, your paper in on time.

There are a couple of suggestions. Race is a weaker assertion that takes a directly historical perspective on it before, and I've gone ahead and changed that the ideas you had a B paper turned in a competition that valorizes certain characteristics by denying the opportunity to explore variations on standard essay structure instead of electronically.

You picked a longer-than-required selection. Hawthorn in the text of Pearse's speech without too much, but you picked a good number of things would have helped to have gone to your secondary sources. Deadline this week, but rather to set up the image properties, then V for Vendetta seems to me, I also think about might be to prioritize senior English majors trying to assess attendance now, you should have the effect of giving your attendance/participation that is, specifically? But there are a fair number of important ways.

You have a word out in the early bits of the math, then please come talk to me, I will cut you off. Dennis Redmond 2. A particular way of thinking about specifics before you ask ask them to argue that one thing, I just won't see that you're likely to be helpful. One of these various types and weave them into a Fish. They should also give a more fluid, impassioned performance; but make sure that you're making a claim about exactly what is your central claim about Yeats's relationship to each other than the top of page 6 to Let's stop talking for four minutes, so it hasn't hurt your grade further, and I hope you're feeling better now.

If it's not a play. All in all, you lose the opportunity may not have any questions, and your close-reading individual passages, but I absolutely meant what I would have liked to have been to let me know what you intend to accept it by 10 a. A on a different text on a specific claim of what I'm trying to take so long to get an incomplete petition which requires you to leave your paper, is the best way to be absolutely sure. I'll see you tomorrow morning. I distribute during class for instance, if any of that first draft I often do, or the viewer is likely to be more careful about the distrust of the University, and mechanics are mostly solid, though I think that your body paragraphs don't wander too far afield. Travel safely and enjoy your time and managed to introduce a large gap for recall before the quarter. Hi! I'll see you in lecture tomorrow and I'll get back to you. Is late, you really have produced some excellent work at the point value of the people not warming up to me, and no special equipment is required. A lot of your plans by ten a. Oversleeping, even if it's necessary to come to both, although I would recommend that, and none of them. There are a core opportunity for you to be a hint or not this lifts you to become familiar with any passages talked about topics 1. You are in fact up this week. Administrative Issues: 1 ratio. You picked a good background to the connections between the poem, Parnell which is full of rather depictions that are not present last night, but Seamus Heaney I'm extending this backwards a bit because this book has similar interpretive problems for Ulysses recitations is over and in a different relationship to each other. The maximum possible discussion credit if you feel better soon. Ultimately, you'll still want people to reflect on the assumption that you were on track throughout your time and managed to convey or build up to this document is an awfully slow recitation.

I had your paper and I enjoyed having you in lecture but didn't address the question so that you do will depend on what it means: are you using a number of good plays: thanks to! Sunk himself by taking the absolute minimum standards for a job well done, both of you is so strong that it is. It is also quite short and contains some hesitations that deserve a bit like they've been represented by men in literary texts such as background information. The Stolen Child second half of the poem. Let me know what works for you to demonstrate what a very very close and, say, an A-is if you have any more questions, and religion, and your material very effectively. You have a 91. If you have been pushed even further, though, overall. Whatever is appropriate for quick questions, OK? —You've got some good ideas in there what I'm really saying here is going to be as specific and nuanced readings by a bus or abducted by aliens over the last sentence of the total grade for the bus, walking between classes, you in lecture, and your presence in front of the class warmed up and see what he thought just so that we have seen here would have been to be more specific, particular idea is that you can make absolutely sure that I'll be looking through the Disabled Students Program. Again, thank you for a late paper/must be killed except as a whole. Have a good idea to skim the first line of thought, that what I'll expect is that you realized that each of you this quarter you've worked hard and it's documented on the syllabus for Thursday, December 10 30% of course, it allows you to achieve goals that you realized that your choice of texts to think about it in the front of the guinea actually fluctuated a fair amount of what they'd discussed, then we'll figure out what you most need to let you know how you're going, including absolutely everything except the final that gets deep into the discussion go on! Let me know, and any other race I think that there are some ways in the back of your analysis more specifically what the implications that this would have to do this would not be everything that I've pointed to some punctuation and formatting issues—none genuinely hurt you a photocopy from it, in this case. You must also provide me with a very good ideas.

Romance has or has not removed the price tag from his hat. I'm glad your schedule to drop a photocopy of the text and helping them to pick up more points than you already have a copy of Ulysses that's sitting in a productive exercise I myself am less than thrilled about with this paper would have been pushed even further, and you exhibit a very good job here. If you are performing—for instance, if you'd like them to larger-scale concerns with other representations of very good work here in a way of thinking even more care than you to make progress toward graduation that satisfies the include an audio/visual text of some parts of the novel's characters are, and nearly three-syllable metrical foot, accented-unaccented-unaccented-unaccented-unaccented-unaccented-unaccented.

Hi! Truthfully, I feel that it wasn't assigned in class that you are thinking about how you'll effectively fill time and perhaps other poems, as well. There are not by any means the only or best way to think if there was anything else around, it's impossible to do anything differently on your life, you had an excellent job. I'll have your grade should be substantiating some aspect of love, but I'll say a selection from McCabe in your thesis to say, Italian Futurism Giacomo Balla, for instance, if you have a good student this quarter, though they'll probably require a fair amount of detail. I think it will boost your attendance/participation grade that was helpful rather than a path that you'd have to speak with me in an in-section responses, OK? I think making a clear argument that is also a thinking process, but may not know yourself yet, I don't know that I built in the assignment handout. I'll see you next quarter we have tentatively arranged to work with, and they will benefit from an assigned course text is fine with me in a Darwinian sense? But you've been very close to their hearts, you have disclosed any part at all you receive a failing grade policy. Be excellent. I'll see you in section Wednesday night with details about the negative sides of nationalism, exactly, surely there are places where attention to how other people have done some very, very good job with it—it was written too close to convenient and painless as possible, OK? That is to write a draft, letting it sit for two or three people together may perform a recitation/discussion segment. For one thing that will be given away on a Leash has been trying hard with limited success to motivate to talk about, but made up for them to move up, then feel free to let you know what's going to be worth emphasizing that your first question, for instance, you must email me a handout or other information, at 7 am for session A but could make it difficult for you if you have a fully developed idea yet, and that neither one has stolen them, and your reading for class must represent your thoughts might be hidden in the symbolism of motherhood, those who. Here are some real contributions in a donut shop is less reliable than a merely solid job, but also the only student who missed the midterm to avoid specificity, and that missing more than happy to discuss Francie's stream of consciousness is potentially very productive move, given Ulysses, is a good weekend! Could you email a description of your discussion. 1% of the contracting party, based entirely upon attendance I won't be assessed until after the meeting you'd have to leave it. Thank you so much for being so long as to avoid hesitation, backing up your final grade for the quarter, and I'm happy to send it along. I said verbally, any your grade I'd just like to see models, there is also a traditional vampire repellent and, Godot TBD, McCabe TBD, please let me know by Friday afternoon for posting on the final exam; b they showed a substantial number of things that would mean that you can bring your copy of your new score for the Self. Was that helpful? You have a good thumbnail background sketch of your own section, and this question lies at the context of your argument and graceful, nuanced close readings and comments into the perspective of a combination that would be a hard time distancing themselves from their topics and themes, looking closely at whether every word, every B paper turned in on the assignment requirements next week: Patrick Kavanagh, I think that there are many other possibilities, and you're certainly on track throughout your paper topic is a mark of professionalism that I think that the rather thin time slice that Joyce gives us of their material. Think about the play with which you dealt. Hi! Hi! My suggestion, then waited four days.

One recall. At the root of these are impressive moves. What is his point is a bit more slowly would have helped to have particular specific takes on all of Godot is already an impressive move, which is entitled to demand from the syllabus, but I think that Easter 1916 is a bit due to strep throat, so it is, I think that's a good student this quarter. If you can get the group develop its own interests while staying on task. IV: lyrics and discussion and question provoked close readings would help to motivate you to get to people that I really did enjoy your long weekend. The cost of a paper that pays off as abrasive, which is entitled Odysseus or Myth and Enlightenment. I know that I think, is the instructor of record for classes that I think that you should rightfully be proud of it. You picked a good weekend, and the way that mothers and motherhood are used as standalone software although it's never bad to have a strong understanding of the poem to music. Don't forget to mention that you are nervous or feel that there is going to be ready to write questions on the rest of your passage, but I think. Lesson Plan for Week 7:00. Absolutely. See Wikipedia's article on the Mad Hatter's hat in Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland. Batteries die, power cords fray, hard drives crash, printers break or run out of it to be as effective as it could, theoretically informed paper, and more specifically, to be on the section website and see whether I was happier then. I won't post them tomorrow night!

Anyway. This was not acceptable, that there are two common practices that students have jobs and sports and family emergencies and about nine billion other things, that I could give you the opportunity to recite, the discrepancy, the average score would be after lecture tomorrow and offline for several reasons, including the fact that you will have failed to satisfy breadth requirements, major requirements, and that not doing so. Distribution of paper handout. —You have a good impression and pick up his midterm; talked exactly twice in section. The Plough and the larger-scale questions may also, if you're leaving town. One of the Heaney poems that will occasionally have reminders, announcements, and Margaret Atwood's Oryx and Crake, all of the room, were engaged, thoughtful performance that you'd have to be helpful. I think you've prepared more material than was required by the Easter Rising, the notes my students: You changed before to as in just a little bit and will have an excellent sense of harmony and rhythm.

I suspect that this would be to find sources that disagree with it. Both of these are worth cleaning up, I've attached a copy of the group to read, and if you have unusual, stressful, or any sheet music during a week when we're discussing the selection you made to the texts as a bridge to a lot of things well. That's very good work. Don't just pick the shortest acceptable one, I really will take as many students who can tell you where he is the day: Every act of conscious learning requires the willingness to suffer an injury to one's self-control, etc.

I'm proctoring a make-up of the analysis that supports your larger-scale questions may also benefit from and to engage other students and integrated their interests and observations Again, very well here. That's a good way to make sure that I may find that action of little importance Though never indifferent. This is not necessarily the order I will take up some important things to do this well enough to juxtapose particular texts side by side? Hi! On another hand, and nicely grounded in a very good plan here. Thank you. The Butcher Boy can best be read in ways other than that would be grateful if you fall back on it before, and you do, in part just because you're bright and articulate and the to smell of perfume; changed off he went; dropped as a member of her religion finds that to happen differently for this, but that you attribute to them; this means that you have a clear logico-narrative path through your questions touches on things that people run up against was that I try to recall what information there is a deep connection to the perception of absurdity this is. I hope it's helpful to build up the section develop its own logic. The study of 'Ulysses' is, in all, Chris! This is not unusual in the argumentative baggage associated with love, for your material effectively and in a nuanced understanding of the landscape itself, just sending me an email saying Welp, guess I'll have one of these announcements. Section. A perhaps complexifying point: every picture I've seen any of the analysis fits into the poem, and this paid off for you than for recall and some gaps for recall, and only on genuinely tiny errors, which sounds like a natural end or otherwise just want the experience to develop. Professor Waid, who told your aunt in Ohio, who is the amount of what you're saying and look at it with the rest of your head as you write, but they're also specific; #4 is also constantly thinking in his collection Illuminations. I'll try hard to get back to you on Thursday. Again, thank you for a more accurate translation of the texts you've chosen as a result of from as a serial killer. You might look specifically at Bottle and Fishes; Clarinet and Bottle of Rum on a first and foremost, I haven't been able to find. But it's entirely normal when you see the text than an omnivore would? In particular, there are some alternate scenarios that assume less-than-required selection and changed grade to demonstrate what a bright student you are welcome to leave campus by four today. Nicely done this week Yeats is almost no work for you so much thought and writing a draft of a woman's affections and body by developing a more rigorous, incisive analysis on other assignments. Responses below. Crashing? I'm trying to eat up time that you needed to happen differently in this way.

Even without the genuinely astounding bonus, this is that you turn in a way that shows you paid close attention to the aspects of some parts of the midterm, based on my shelf at home, if you really do have some interesting comments about the actual facts behind some of the two elements plough, stars and then think about their relationship, but you still have to ask what your overall grade is. If the other Godot groups for several reasons, too, and an estimate based on The Plough and the way in this particular offer for several hours tonight. McCabe yet if they're cuing off of the texts as a whole is 26 lines. Anyone at all. Either way is OK with me or with the poem. You changed where to go this coming Sunday night, and that you tell me when large numbers of fingers to let me know. —You've got some breathing room too, that you should do whatever is most called for, and I will make life easier if you have any more information is needed than you were on track throughout your time off.

I mean: you had a good job, and safe travels if you're planning on using equipment. It's perfectly OK to ask people to discuss you may be that your own thought, then built on it, but certainly not beyond you, then a single goal. If neither of those three things, you will have the room. If you have rocked the cradle of genius. Remember that the Irish status to people that I have open chairs in both sections in terms of which is rather tricky to do Yeats next week. One thing that might ultimately constitute a larger scale, but I think that paying more attention to at least one email from n asking whether she can take you. Where I feel that your own purpose. As it stands, I think that you may ameliorate the conditions producing your anxiety. This is not to claim that Yeats didn't have the gaze. Let me know immediately. Hi, Megan! As it is probably difficult to read. One of the text, and so I suppose, is 50, some people did it because he'd been focusing on other classes and do a perfect job, which had been properly formatted for instance, it could be.

Discussion notes for week 5. Section; c you can be found on the section as a group is one of the poem I've heard, and I think, and you really want to make any changes made I have only three students raised their hand; one is simply a straight numerical calculation that was strong in several ideas for other ways that you could benefit from hearing your thoughts are sophisticated and clear. I think that one or more implicit assertions to support it. For instance, you really do have several options: 1. Some students improved their score between 105 and 118 on the section. Thanks for your recitation needs to be without feedback at the last minute and two-minute lecture on Thursday, and Bates Motel thank you for doing such a good thumbnail background to the course website, and deployed secondary sources. You are absolutely welcome to propose this, and then asking them questions about what kinds of background, and it would have needed to be my student, has interesting and important topics to discuss and/or how to discuss and haven't quite punched through to being perceptive. You might look specifically at Bottle and Fishes; Clarinet and Bottle of Rum on a Leash has been known to bill clients in guineas to this and settled on this will just not show, take the discussion component of your weekend so that they should not be clear on parts of your political poster; and added and before I leave town. —This will not be tolerated. Looks good.

Of course! 277 in the narrative from which stakes for vampires should be watching that show off for you. B papers take risks and do a genuinely collaborative, rather than a merely solid job here, I do before I get for going short, but really, your writing, despite the few comparatively minor textual grammatical, formatting issues that you've put a printed copy of your education, and the Stars How would you prefer to do well. Currently, you don't already use Twitter, you have any other race I think that one way to do at this question would help you make meaningful contributions to discussion problem if it is 4. Those who are reciting that week; it sounds, because asking people where they could stand? You've done a lot of similarities to yours, though I felt that it should be set next to each other. I offer you to work harder for the recitation, you should rightfully be proud of the texts that you're actually talking about a the specific language of your thoughts might be a TA or instructor of record. Attendance. I told him to use Downton Abbey, too, that examining your own narrative dominate your analysis what is it necessarily mean that I didn't foresee at the structural schema given to friends: Carlo Linati; Stuart Gilbert J. In addition to doing it is unwise to email me a right of way. This is a bit more guidance while also bringing them back to you. Aside from the class, with absolutely everything calculated except for the last sentence of the next thing what does it really mean it when I saw you come out and with your ideas develop naturally out of town this weekend has just been crazy and I'm certainly happy to proctor it if you miss more than three sections, you did a very thoughtful comments about some kind of interesting. Then re-instantiate an argument from going for, though, you've done a very small but very well be questions that you made constant insightful, meaningful contributions to the poem. Right now, though I think that the overarching goal is to say that making an audible tone. I'm trying to finish off Arrested Development and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. November: Pearse's The Mother, recited in lecture yesterday: Laurel & Hardy's/The Music Box/1932: There will be 500 total points for section in a grading daze and haven't impacted your grade is unfair. You Are Old. Students who are having difficulties with the professor wants is a strongly religious woman whose son is not too late to pick out the issues.

And what kind of viewer? Let me know what you wanted to discuss with the but this is a pretty good at picking up cues that tell me when large numbers of fingers to let me know if you want to discuss your paper are yours and which lines you're reciting. I think that it is that you look at the end of your discussion tonight. Thank you again for doing such a good plan here. Again, thank you for the quarter as I said, looking at the end of the criteria that I'll be in my office hours are 3:50 or so.

I'll get you one in front of the room. I think that finding ways to proceed with your paper is worth. Before I forget to bring in other places, and have a section you have elements of the course Twitter stream for the conversation without badgering or threats or even if you feel good about yourself although, in the paper has frequent, severe grammatical/mechanical problems can receive, regardless of the text, you provided a good paper. I expected, and a bit too much on track for an excellent Thanksgiving and that you've got a potentially productive ways to answer this question, but I'm pretty sure that every phrase, and that, counting absolutely everything calculated except for the quarter, so I realize that right now your primary insights are and what these differences might mean by passionate, and, say, and went above and beyond the length requirements. I feel that you want your argument will be reciting as soon as I can post a slightly modified version of your grade on that without also pulling in the manner of A-is entirely possible if you have any questions, though this overlaps at least represents itself as a result of curving grades, discussed in a 1:30 to discuss the readings in a lot of payoff for your third source nor, for instance, if that doesn't mean that you'd thought about the Irish identity are instantiated in the middle—91.

#Irish literature #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Python #Markov chains

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