#also I’m still working on giving these guys an updated story but my basic idea is that they’re a professional tower control team that has | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

soramei · 3 years

Text

From Resentment (hhj)

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader (she/her)

Summary: After a fated meeting involving a cute and fluffy puppy, you found yourself drawn to Hwang Hyunjin: the school prince. Everybody in high school loved him. It was hard not to. Not only was he rich, smart, and athletic, but he was also incredibly kind-hearted.

However, one day seemingly out of the blue, everything that you thought Hyunjin was came crashing down.

Now a freshman in university, you were excited to live out your dreams. That was, until Hyunjin came hurtling back into your life like an uncontrolled meteor. His presence threw a curveball on all your plans, and would eventually change your perspective on everything that you thought you knew.

Genre: studentl!hyunjin au, angst, enemies to lovers

Warnings: cursing, tw puking

Word Count: 8.8k

Masterlist

A/N: Not an Intentional update but a hyunjin oneshot!! disclaimer: no aspect of hyunjins personality here was drawn from real life — irl hyunjin is a ray of sunshine <3

You looked at your math homework, proud that you got all the answers correct. Since it was a slow afternoon at your job today, you had extra time to focus on your homework. The boss at the convenience store you worked at allowed you to have your homework out, as long as it was hidden behind the cash register.

As you stared at the rest of your homework, you started to feel the weight of tenth grade pile up on you. Because it was your first year of high school, you were still trying to adjust to everything; your grades, your teachers, and all the new students walking around the halls.

You stuffed the rest of your homework in your backpack. It was the end of your shift, and you wanted to go home as soon as possible to start with the rest of your studying. Crap. No matter how hard you tried to zip up your backpack, it wouldn’t close. After trying one more time, the zipper tore from your backpack.

You cursed under your breath. You couldn’t afford to buy a new backpack right now.

You had just been able to afford your new school uniform by taking up extra shifts at the convenience store, and you still needed money for your grandmother’s prescriptions. You sighed, annoyed to have another monetary stressor weighing on your shoulders.

Walking outside with your now torn backpack, your eyes widened at the group of boys in front of you. You immediately recognized them from behind.

The school princes. These three seniors were all known for three things: being extremely smart, handsome, and talented.

On the left was Seungmin, and from what you’ve heard, he was the smart and quiet one. He was always helping the teachers, being the class president and all. Any time a girl or a boy needed academic help, Seungmin was there and happy to assist.

The person on the right was Jisung. With his charming and charismatic personality, he had dated tens upon tens of girls in his grade. Just in the last year. It helped that he was really good looking — and also stinkin’ rich. His father was a notorious restaurateur, and with him being the first son, he was basically given unlimited spending rights.

The only person richer than Jisung was the boy in the center of them both: Hwang Hyunjin. This boy was the school prince. The prince of princes. He somehow managed to participate in music clubs, engage in study groups, and captain the soccer team all the while keeping up excellent grades. Every girl that Jisung had dated was said to have been rejected by Hyunjin first. That was his only flaw: he was notoriously cold to any and all romantic confessions.

You followed behind the three princes, staring at your torn up sneakers. You knew you didn’t exist in their world, but even being near three handsome and rich teenage boys made you nervous.

Suddenly, you heard a whimper coming from behind a bush to the left of you. It sounded like a hurt animal.

Worried and curious, you walked over to the bush to see what it was.

It was a puppy. Small and fluffy, it looked up at you with it’s beady black eyes and cried out. His paw was bleeding.

You panicked. Having never seen a hurt puppy before, you had no idea what to do. You called out for help.

“Help!” you cried, hoping that somebody had heard your call for help. You desperately wanted to help this hurt puppy, but you hesitated to touch it, afraid that you would hurt the animal even more.

The puppy howled in pain, making your panic rise. You were about to call out for help again, when you heard somebody running up behind you.

“What is it?” The voice asked.

“I-I don’t know. I just saw this dog here, and-and his paw is bleeding,” you anxiously stuttered.

“Here, let me take a look.”

You heard the voice behind you, so you shuffled over to make room.

It was Hwang Hyunjin. The person that responded to your cry for help was the most popular and well-liked person in the school. You were shocked, a bit intimidated actually, so you silently moved to the side for him. His black hair shone in the sunlight as he bent down to examine the dog.

“Come here, boy,” he chirped. The puppy listened, and started limping to him. “Something hurt you, didn’t it.”

He stood up, picking the puppy up along with him.

“C’mon,” he gestured with his head, “my vet isn’t too far from here actually. We can make it by walking.”

You silently nodded and followed him.

He was right. The walk to the veterinarian clinic, though very awkward, wasn’t too far. The clinic was empty at this time of day, with the receptionist being the only person in the room.

“Hyunjin! Always a pleasure,” the receptionist beamed. It seemed like Hyunjin’s likeability wasn’t only confined to your school. “My, what do we have here?”

“There’s something wrong with his paw,” Hyunjin tried to show the receptionist where the blood was coming from, “is the doctor free right now?”

“As a matter of fact, he is,” the receptionist said whilst checking the schedule. “I’ll take this little boy to the back where he can get prepped for the veterinarian.”

Hyunjin handed the puppy carefully to the receptionist. The receptionist took out a crate for the dog, put him in, and then disappeared through the back door. The two of you were now left alone in the waiting room.

“Uhm,” you coughed, “thank you. I know you probably want to get back to your friends, so you can leave now.”

“No, I’ll stay,” he looked at you and smiled, “those idiots are just playing LOL at the PC room anyways. Plus, I want to see how this little boy turns out.”

You smiled back at him, nodding your head. A few moments of awkward silence passed.

“I’m Hyunjin by the way,” he said.

“I know. I’m Y/n.”

“You’re in your first year, right?” he said, looking at the colour of your uniform.

“Yeah, it’s so hard to get used to though. I’m trying my best with my homework, but I think this school stuff just doesn’t click with me,” you rambled.

“Oh?”

“I want to go into dance. I’ve never been able to afford professional lessons, but I’ve always wanted to go to university for dance. My grandparents said they would let me if my school grades were high.” You didn’t know why you were giving your life story to Hyunjin. He just had this natural charisma that made you want to spill everything to him. It was the way he looked at you with those cat-like eyes.

“I know what you mean. It took me forever to convince my parents for me to major in dance. I got in by early admittance, but I’m sure they still have their reservations about my major.”

“You’re majoring in dance?” you asked, eyes wide.

He smiled. “I’ve loved dancing ever since I could remember. It’s my passion, and truthfully, the only thing I’ve got going for me.”

You were shocked. At school, Hyunjin was known for so many things other than dancing. Hell, you didn’t even know he enjoyed dancing and you thought you’d heard everything about him already.

The two of you chatted for a while longer before the vet came out with the now happy looking dog.

“It seemed like this little guy got into a fight with something, and he got a pretty large gash on his paw. Luckily, it wasn’t bleeding too much so I just gave him some anaesthetic and stitched it right up.”

You sighed in relief. “Thank god he isn’t too hurt.”

“Yes, it’s good that it wasn’t too bad,” the veterinarian agreed. “I’m assuming this is your dog? As soon as you finish with the bill, I can release this little guy and the both of you are ready to go.”

Oh yeah. The bill.

Although you knew you couldn’t afford to pay the vet bill, you didn’t know where this little dog would go if you couldn’t take him home. You did the mental calculations, and if you worked some extra shifts, you could probably be able to pick up the bill today. Buying a new backpack could be saved for another day.

“Sure, where can I pay?” you asked.

“Just over by the receptionist.” The veterinarian pointed.

You walked over to the receptionist, and she handed the bill over to you.

You almost fainted.

Just the anaesthetic and the stitches alone cost over two hundred dollars. This was extremely over your budget, and probably even more than the amount in your savings. You felt uneasy.

“Uhm, actually, I don’t think I can-”

“Do you take cash?”

Hyunjin had interrupted you, walked up to the receptionist, and pulled out his wallet. He peaked over your shoulder and took out a huge wad of cash to hand to the receptionist.

“Hyunjin, you don’t have to,” you begged. You felt bad that this guy you didn’t even know had just offered to cover you for over two hundred dollars.

“Think of it as a good luck gift from a fellow dancer.” He smiled.

That was when it clicked. You didn’t know what clicked, but it just did. It was his smile. It was the way the corners of his eyes crinkled up and how the corners of his lips pinched at the end. You now understood why all the girls at school were in love with him. He was quite literally perfect.

You thanked him profusely, even after the two of you had left the clinic. With the dog in your hand, you walked side by side with Hyunjin.

“So,” he started, “have you thought of a name for this guy yet?”

Oh yeah — he was your dog now. “Hmm, I don’t know yet.”

“What about Coco?”

“Coco?”

“Yeah, let’s see if he likes it.” Hyunjin leaned in and cooed at the little puppy. “Hi, little Coco!”

The puppy’s eyes lit up, and with his tongue stretched out, he started panting.

“I guess he likes it,” Hyunjin smiled. God, his smile could melt all of Antarctica.

“Coco it is.” You poked at Coco’s nose.

Hyunjin was about to say something back to you when his phone buzzed. He took a peak, rolled his eyes, then smiled. “My friends are god awful at games. I swear, they can’t even win one round without me. You’re okay with going home alone?”

He was going to walk you home? Could he be any more perfect?

You nodded your head. “Thank you, Hyunjin. I’ll pay you back for the bill one day.”

“No need,” he winked. “Like I said, it’s a good luck gift. Oh, and you can ask me if you need help with any school work. Anything to help a fellow dancer.”

He waved goodbye, then went running off in the other direction. You held Coco close to you, heart pounding. Although you didn’t want to be like all the other girls who fell for him, you felt like you were already falling for Hyunjin.

The next day, you had planned to go shopping for dog supplies after school. After a really long and arduous debate with yourself, you decided to sacrifice all of your savings in order to buy everything that Coco needed. You knew Hyunjin owned a dog himself, so throughout the whole day, you worked up the nerve to ask Hyunjin to come with you.

At the end of last period, you gathered all your stuff from your desk and headed to the soccer field where you knew Hyunjin and his friends would be. Whilst you crossed the field, you noticed Jisung staring at you. You found his stare intimidating, but you tried to brush it off. He then whispered something in Hyunjin’s ear.

“Hi, Hyunjin,” you said anxiously, biting your lip. “Umm, do you want to come with me to shop for Coco?”

He stared at you for a couple seconds, then, a look of disgust appeared on his face. “Why? So you can use my wallet again?”

You stared back at him, wide eyed. Who was this person? It wasn’t the Hyunjin that so graciously helped you out yesterday.

“W-what? No!” you exclaimed. “I-I just wanted your opinion…”

“Sure,” Hyunjin smirked coldly, “opinion my ass.”

“Hyunjin,” tears were pooling in your eyes, “I don’t understand.”

“If you need money so much, here.” He reached in his pocket and turned up a wad of cash, throwing it at your feet. “Just don’t come to me next time. And buy yourself a new pair of shoes while you’re at it.”

You looked down at the money, trying to hold back your tears. Why was Hyunjin being like this? You didn’t understand. His two jockeys beside him didn’t even bother to stop him. As you tried to stop yourself from crying, you felt your sadness turn into rage.

“I don’t need your stupid money,” you said, kicking the cash back to him. “Maybe you can use your daddy’s money to buy yourself a new personality.”

Hyunjin’s two friends tried to hold back their snickers at your words. Hyunjin heard, turned around, and gave them both death stares.

You didn’t bother to listen to whatever he was going to say next and simply stomped away, rage burning inside you. Everything about him was a lie. His charming and charismatic personality, his generosity, his kindness. They were all lies. He really was nothing but a rich, spoiled boy living with his father’s money.

There was rage behind every step you took. Wiping away your tears, you headed to your locker. You didn’t need him anyways; it was better to realize his true personality earlier rather than later. Hands shaking from anger, you dialed the combination to your locker.

“Hey, sorry about what happened earlier.” A voice came from behind you. “He can be a real jerk sometimes.”

It was Jisung. You rolled your eyes. You didn’t want to see him either.

“Why didn’t you do anything about it then?” Your voice came out shaky. It was obvious that you had cried.

“Once he starts, there’s no stopping him. It’s usually better to let him finish uninterrupted, or else he will get more mad.”

“Oh,” you said. Your hatred for Hyunjin grew even more.

“I could come with you, though. I don’t know much about dogs, but I can help you carry your bags.”

“I don’t know…”

“C’mon, no way you can carry everything by yourself.”

You hesitated. “Okay, I guess.”

And so, you left for the pet store with Jisung, still confused about everything that had happened. It was strange with him. He was nice and cracked a joke every now and then, but it was just different from being with Hyunjin. At least he was nice, you thought.

Your trip went well. You managed to buy everything you needed for Coco. In a turn of events, Jisung had actually come in handy as he offered to carry the huge bag of dog food you bought. He even offered to buy you a coffee.

“Thanks for all your help, Jisung.” You stood outside the door of your apartment, smiling at him.

“No problem, gives me an excuse to work out my guns.” He pretended to flex his arms.

You choked back a laugh.

“You should get going now. It’s late,” you said.

“Alright,” he started to leave. “Hey, if you see me in the halls, feel free to say hi.”

You nodded and waved to him as he turned and walked away, remembering his words. Every time you saw Jisung in the school hallways, you gave him a small wave in which he happily returned. However, whenever you saw him walking with Hyunjin, you made sure to purposely avoid them. You didn’t want any negativity in your life.

You kept up the waves, and soon, waves turned to small conversations which soon turned to flirting. By the end of the semester, you and Jisung somehow ended up as a couple. Jisung was polite and sweet, unlike a certain person. With every free moment you had, you hung out with Jisung — all the while avoiding Hyunjin.

The two of you stayed a couple for the rest of Jisung’s senior year. Somehow, the two of you had even kept up your relationship throughout your whole high school experience. It was hard at times as he went to university, but with a lot of effort, you had made your relationship work out. You barely had time to talk with him, but you enjoyed the little time that you did have. Jisung had never even once mentioned Hyunjin when you were together, and with time, you had totally forgotten about that jerk. You weren’t even sure if they were still friends.

You worked hard in school and reaped all the benefits. Your rank had consistently been in the top twenties amongst all the other students, and you even had time to practice your dancing. You remembered the day that you received your acceptance letter from university. Hands shaking, you had barely managed to open the letter all the way before you screamed. You had gotten into university with your dream major: dance.

Because of your excellent grades, you were able to pay a lot of your tuition with scholarship money alone. You hesitantly decided to quit your job at the convenience store to focus on university. Although quitting meant that your bank account would take a big hit, you decided that it would be best in the long run. There was a lot in your savings, and you even had a little extra to buy a new outfit for your first day of school.

Jisung had been busy on the first day of university. He had previously promised to show you around campus, but with him being a no-show, you wandered around by yourself to try to find your classes. You had trouble with the campus map at first, but after walking around for a bit, you were able to find all your classes with ease.

Your first few classes were a snore. Because they were all theory, you had to down two cups of coffee in order to stay awake. Somehow, you managed to take coherent notes despite being bored out of your mind. You just wanted to dance.

The good thing was, after sitting through many classes, your time to dance finally came. Your last class of the day was an introduction to dance course, and you couldn’t wait to go. You wanted to know your teacher, your peers, and most importantly, express yourself.

The dance class was in a studio in the university’s fitness center. It was huge, way bigger than the tiny gym in your high school. Upon entering the studio, you were immediately met with the sight of students, exactly like you, already stretching. You chose a spot in the room and started stretching as well, making good use of your time before the instructor comes in.

After some time, most of the students — including you — had finished stretching and were sitting in silence waiting for the instructor. The door swung open, breaking the silence. The instructor had come in.

“Hello new students,” he said, “welcome to Dance 100. Today, I will go through the curriculum with you as well as introduce your final project.”

The instructor whipped out a projection of the curriculum and started explaining the purpose of the course, what you would be graded on, and how you would be graded. He then read through his class expectations before moving to your final project.

“This final project will act in place of a final exam,” he explained. “You will be required to create a dance that includes everything we’ve learned in class and write an essay explaining all the elements in your dance. It will be worth half your grade.”

The class gasped in surprise. Not only did this project sound extremely difficult for a first year course, but the fact that it was worth half your grade made it borderline unfair.

“I know it might seem difficult, but worry not, you won’t be doing this alone. Every year, the first year dance students get mentored by the third year dance students for the final project. Each student has already been assigned a random mentor which will be introduced this class.”

The whole class murmured, talking amongst themselves and expressing their opinions on this project. It was definitely an interesting project. You hoped that you would be paired with a good mentor that would actually care about how well you did.

There was a knock on the door.

“Ah, this must be them.” Your instructor opened the door and a wave of third years came flooding in. Each one of them had a name tag pinned on their shirts. “Class, these are the third year students.”

You all politely greeted them.

“Now,” the instructor continued, “I will put the class list on the projector, and each of your names will correspond to a third year mentor.”

The instructor put out the list for display. You scanned down the list of names, eventually finding yours. Following the dots to your corresponding mentor, you almost choked on air when you saw yours.

It was Hwang Hyunjin.

You were at a loss for words. Just when you thought he was out of your life forever, the man that was so incredibly mean to you — the man you hated with your whole soul — was now your mentor. Just the thought of being in the same room as him filled you with disgust.

You scanned the sea of third year students, and your eyes immediately found him. He was staring back at you with the same shocked expression that you had on.

He looked different. Not only had he grown taller, but he had lost all his baby fat as well. His hair was different too. It was bleached blond and it almost hit his shoulders. What was the same, however, was his intense stare and his plump lips.

You walked over to him.

“You look different.” His eyes scanned up and down.

“So do you.” You clenched your jaw and sighed. “I guess we have to work together.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he said flatly.

“Listen,” you copied his tone, “I’m not excited about this either, but I want to get a good grade for this class. If you don’t wanna help me, just say so and I’ll just work alone on this.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he rolled his eyes, “this is part of my grade too. I can’t let you fuck this up for the both of us.”

You rolled your eyes back at him and pressed your lips in a thin line. Ignoring what he said, you asked, “where do we start?”

“Let’s find a time to meet every week.” He pulled out the newest iPad model from his bag. Of course he would have the newest iPad. “I’m busy every day except Saturday, so let’s meet then.”

Way to consider your opinion. He was lucky that you weren’t busy on the weekends.

As Hyunjin worked on sorting his schedule, you took your time to look at how he had changed. With his hair blonde, he looked like a completely different person. You didn’t understand why he kept his hair long though. It kept falling in his eyes.

“Stop staring at me. It’s freaking me out.” He narrowed his eyes at you.

“I wasn’t.” You crossed your arms, defending yourself.

“Whatever.” He tucked his hair behind his ear and put his iPad back in his bag. “Don’t be late on Saturday.”

And with that, he left. You looked around the class. Most of the other students were still with their mentors, presumably getting to know each other and discussing the project. You almost wanted to ask your instructor to switch with somebody else, but that would mean passing on the nightmare known as Hwang Hyunjin onto a perfectly innocent person. You had your moments, but you weren’t evil.

The interaction with Hyunjin had left you in a sour mood for the rest of the day. You tried to study, but you were too distracted by the thought of having to work with that monstrosity for a whole semester. It was worth so much of your grade, too. You had just hoped that Hyunjin was as good at dance as he previously told you. You remembered him saying how dance was his passion in life. That was when you still liked him. Who knows, maybe he only said that so he could play you like every other girl he played with.

For the rest of the week, whenever you thought of the dance project, you were filled with dread. You tried to ignore it, and sometimes it worked, but most of the time it kept reappearing in your mind like a virus. The way Hyunjin had infected your mind bothered you to no end.

Time passed fast though, and before you knew it, Saturday had already come. Searching through your closet, you picked out a simple outfit for practice today. You slid on your tattered old sneakers and headed off to the studio that Hyunjin had told you to go to.

Entering the dance studio, you noticed that you were right on time. However, Hyunjin was not. Great… He made such a big deal over you being on time that he himself forgot to be punctual. You sat on the wood floors and started to do some stretches to warm up.

Eventually, after you finished your stretching, he entered the studio. With a girl. Holding a textbook, Hyunjin handed it to the girl and put on his signature deceitful smile. His ugly, perfect smile. The girl batted her eyes and waved her fingers goodbye before strolling out the door. You rolled your eyes at this, feeling bad for the girl. Hyunjin was playing her right in front of her own eyes and she didn’t even realize it.

“Were you really late because of a girl?” you sneered.

“Why do you care?” he retorted, flinging his bag to the corner of the room.

“I don’t.”

“Sure you don’t.”

Not wanting to waste time with that childish banter, you decided to end the conversation then and there. “Okay, well anyways, I’ll show you what I learned in class this week.”

Hooking up your phone to the speaker, you chose the song that you’ve been practicing with for the whole week. As the song progressed, you found it hard to not get lost in the music. Just dancing was the easy part; incorporating everything learned in class was another story. Although it was fairly difficult, you thought you executed everything very well as the song came to an end. Finishing up, you panted from exhaustion and looked at Hyunjin for his comments.

He stood, with his arms crossed across his torso, leaning against the speaker. There was a blank expression on his face.

“Not bad.” He started to walk up to you.

“But?”

“But you’re too stiff. You’re too focused on perfectly executing the technical moves that you forget to just move your body. Do what you did half-way through the song again.”

You turned the music on, trying to do the dance with Hyunjin’s criticisms in mind. Looking in the mirror, you did your best to show as much emotion as possible, all the while moving more fluidly. The room was filled with heavy bass and the squeaks from your sneakers.

Suddenly, the music was abruptly cut off.

Hyunjin had stopped the music and was making his way over, face still unreadable.

“You’re still trying too hard and it shows.” Hyunjin shook his head.

Clenching your jaw, you did your best to hold back your anger. Were you just not supposed to try? This annoyed you. Just because he didn’t need to try to be good at anything didn’t mean you couldn’t.

“Well,” you tried to say calmly, “how can I do this then?”

“You have to relax.” He put one hand on your hip and started to guide you. “Don’t focus on each individual aspect, but try to imagine everything as a whole. Then, things will come naturally.”

You followed his hand, allowing Hyunjin to guide you to his own rhythm. After a while, every movement felt so fluid and you didn’t even notice that your face started to match your movements. Glancing at your reflection, you gasped, noticing how different your dancing looked. You whipped your head to face Hyunjin, the two of your inches apart and breathing heavily.

“See,” he mumbled, looking down at you. “Once you stop thinking, everything just comes naturally.”

You looked back at the person inches away from you. It almost felt as if he was being kind. But you knew the type of person he was. You weren’t going to let this happen again. Snapping out of what weird trance you were in, you pushed him away in an act of self perseverance.

He didn’t say anything.

“I’ll try again,” you said.

Hyunjin strolled over to the speaker and turned on the music. This time, you didn’t think about anything you learned in class or Hyunjin’s criticisms. You just trusted in your body. Everything else was blank.

Taking a step forward while still in your trance, your shoe lost its grip on the floor, causing you to fall right on your knee. You cried in pain, holding on to your knee.

“Fuck,” Hyunjin hissed. He ran over and bent down to your level. “Can you move it?”

“I think so.” You tried to straighten your knee. It hurt, but you were still able to do it. There would most likely be a nasty bruise there the next morning.

“You’re still wearing those scraps that you call shoes? They’re literally coming apart at the seams. This is going to happen again if you don’t get new ones.”

You blushed in embarrassment from his remarks. “I’m not going to spend money on things that I don’t need.”

“Well, you need shoes. Just go buy a new pair later.”

Was he being serious? Or was he just spoiled?

“Hyunjin, not everybody can just go spend money whenever they want,” you loudly sighed. “Unlike you, I need to consider my budget for most things.”

“Well, why can’t you ask your boyfriend to buy it?” he sneered. “Seems like you’re good at doing that.”

How did he know you were still dating Jisung? What did he mean by ‘good at doing that’?

“What?” You crossed your eyebrows. “Do you think I’m with him just for his money? Do I really look like that kind of person to you?”

“You used me for my money,” he mumbled under his breath.

“What?” You couldn’t hear him right.

“Nevermind, rehearsal's over.” He stomped off, leaving you alone in the practice room holding on to your injured knee.

You busied yourself with everything and anything you could do over the weekend in order to forget what happened during rehearsal. However, no matter how hard you tried to forget, Hyunjin’s comments on your shoes stuck in your mind like glue.

During your shift at your job, you couldn’t help but keep staring at your worn sneakers. You never paid attention to your shoes before until now. They did the job, so why would you need to buy a new pair? Still, you unconsciously paid attention to every step you took.

On Monday’s dance class, you decided to go early. It was always nice to warm up in a room with other try-hards. They felt less judgemental than the others.

The studio barely had anybody in it this early before class. Everybody was either stretching or had already started going over what was taught last week. Shuffling your way over to your locker, you couldn’t help but compare everybody else’s shoes to your own. You’ve never cared about trivial matters such as shoes, but you couldn’t help but feel a little self conscious as your worn-in sneakers squeaked its way over to the lockers.

Opening your locker, your eyes widened, shocked at what you saw. Inside was a box containing a brand new pair of sneakers. It was an expensive brand as well, a brand that you never thought you would be touching in your life. You turned your head around, scanning the room. Everybody seemed to have been busy with their own thing.

Did somebody put these in your locker by mistake?

Taking the shoes out, you noticed a small slip of paper fly out. You picked up the note.

Keep these. I was a jerk.

You knew who had sent this. It was Hyunjin. You didn’t know what game he was trying to play at, but you weren’t going to fall for it like you did that day in high school. Gingerly putting the shoes back in your locker, you decided to return these back to Hyunjin at your next practice.

“No, I gave them to you as a gift.” Hyunjin turned his nose up at you, refusing to take back the shoes.

“Why would you give these to me if you think that I only use people for their money?”

“Because,” he rolled his eyes, “if you’re unable to dance then my grade is screwed as well.”

He made a good point, but you were stubborn. “Still…”

“You know what? Keep it, give it away, sell it, I don’t care. Let’s just start practice.”

After that dance practice, you threw your old shoes in the trash.

It was midterm season a month into school. You thought you had gone to hell and back with high school, but this was even worse. Each day consisted of waking up, studying, and going back to sleep. You lived on coffee and toast. It wasn’t much, but it gave you the energy to sit at the library for hours to study.

You didn’t see anybody during the midterm season, Instead, you chose to hermit yourself up at the library for days on end. This meant that, at least for a couple of weeks, your dance practice with Hyunjin was put on hiatus. Not that he minded, of course. He happily deleted the practices from his schedule.

You also didn’t see much of your boyfriend, Jisung. Ever since school started, he seemed to always be missing in action. He would almost never have time to be with you, and with the few moments that he was, it seemed like he was always so apathetic towards you. You brushed this off as stress though, as you finally knew what it was like to experience university exams.

It was a clear and sunny day on the morning you finished your last midterm. Leaving the exam room, you looked up to the sky, basking in the sun. Today was going to be a good day. Not only were you now stress free, but you were also invited to an end-of-midterm party for your dance class tonight. You had never gone to a university party before, so when a classmate asked if you wanted to go, you eagerly accepted.

Wrapping up your dance class, you stood at your locker, gathering the rest of your stuff.

“Hey.” An arm wrapped around you.

“Hey, Jisung.” You smiled, turning around to face him.

“You’re done all your midterms?”

“Yup.” You nodded happily.

He took a look at your shoes.

“New shoes?”

You hesitated in answering his question, not knowing where Jisung was with Hyunjin in terms of friendship. It was better to be truthful now rather than apologizing later.

“Hyunjin gave it to me.” You looked down, fiddling with your fingers. Why were you afraid of Jisung’s response?

“Wait, what? Hwang Hyunjin? Like from high school? Y/n, I thought you hated him.”

“I did! And I do,” you tried to explain, “but he had a reason to give me this.”

“Bullshit, Y/n. You’re really gonna believe any reason he pulls out of his ass? I thought you actually matured from high school.”

“Well, you would understand if you were around more often!” you yelled. You knew it was wrong to address other problems and blow this out of proportion, but you couldn’t think straight. Your mind was clouded with anger.

“What does this have to do with anything?” Jisung barked back. “What we’re talking about is how you, no matter how shitty of a person Hyunjin is, keep going back to him! Y/n, all that man does is take. He takes from you and he sure as hell takes everything from me. I won’t let that happen this time.”

When had he taken anything from you? All he had done was give.

“Jisung, let’s end this.”

“You’re right. Let’s cool down and talk later tonight.”

“No,” you shook your head, “I mean, let's end us.”

Jisung looked at you in disgust. “It’s Hyunjin, isn’t it?”

“No,” you vehemently denied, “Jisung, you never have time for me, and the little time we do have together you act like a different person. And now you’re being all possessive just because Hyunjin gave me a gift? I’m sorry, I just don’t see us recovering from this.”

“Fine, whatever.” Jisung turned around. “We’re done. But Y/n, don’t come running back to me when Hyunjin screws you over like he does with everybody.”

After Jisung left, you stomped your foot on the ground, tears pooling in your eyes. It was for the best — breaking up with him. For the past month, you hadn’t been happy with where your relationship was going, but this wasn’t the way you wanted to end an almost three year relationship.

Wiping away your tears, you tried to compose yourself before heading over to the pub. Jisung wasn’t worth the tears.

The walk to the pub wasn’t far as every establishment catered to students was a short walking distance from campus. For your entire walk over, you kept your head down so as to not receive looks from others. The headache from your cries and a blush of anger still lingered with you. Hopefully you’ll look somewhat normal by the time you reach the bar.

Checking your reflection once more in your phone camera, you fixed your hair a bit before going inside.

The bar was filled.

With students from both your dance class and the third year class, there was not an empty corner in sight. The music was loud, but the sounds of chatter coming from the students were louder. The place was dark, with the only source of light coming from very dim, bright blue LEDs.

It was surprising to see everybody in a different setting. You were used to the sight of your classmates being only in sweats and workout clothes, but now that they actually had time to get ready, everybody seemed like a completely different person.

You saw a few of your classmates wave at you, beckoning you over to where they were sitting. As soon as your butt landed on the chair, they spared no time to push a shot glass filled with clear liquor in front of you. You gladly took the drink, wanting to just let go and forget about everything that happened today. Holding back a cough, you scrunched your face as you felt the alcohol burn in your throat. It had been so long since the last time you drank.

After five you stopped counting. Partly because you knew you were going to drink more, but mostly because your head couldn’t even count to five anymore. Scrunching your eyes, you tried to focus on the blurry figure of your classmate complaining about her professor. Bored out of your mind as her mindless babble went on forever, your eyes started roaming around the bar. As your eyes wandered, you noticed somebody behind your classmate staring at you.

Hwang Hyunjin.

Even in your inebriated state of mind, you knew that it was Hyunjin. What other university student had the balls to bleach their whole head blonde? Your eyes met, and he ran a hand through his golden locks. Why do the most beautiful people harbour the most wretched personalities?

You tried to ignore his staring by focusing your attention back on your classmate, but eventually, you couldn’t help but glance back at him. He was still looking at you.

You saw a girl come up to him. She was the same girl that showed up with him on your first ever practice session. Because of the dimly lit bar and your drunken vision impairment, you had to really squint to make out what was going on. The girl, all smiley and giggly, put her hand on his shoulder, making Hyunjin break his eye contact with you. He smiled at the girl, mouthing words that were drowned out by the music. For some reason, this made you furious. Why was he so nice to everybody else but you? What had you ever done to him to make him hate you so much?

You kept your eyes on the girl, knowing full well that you shouldn’t have. You hated that — even on your night off, even when you had just broken up with your boyfriend — Hyunjin was still in your mind like an unkillable parasite. You hated the way he tucked his hair behind his ears. You hated how the corners of his eyes crinkled up when he smiled at her. You hated him.

You watched as she leaned in and whispered something in his ear, causing him to laugh. That was the last straw. In a drunken haze, you took your phone and bolted out the door, ignoring the concerns of all your classmates. Maybe it had been a mistake breaking up with Jisung. Maybe he really did know what was best for you.

Stumbling out onto the street, you tried to dial Jisung’s phone number. It proved to be too difficult of a task, however, as your drunken fingers could only tap on random numbers on the screen. You cried out of frustration.

“Y/n.”

The voice coming from behind you startled you, causing you to lose your grip on the phone. It dropped on the cement with a loud crack. Tears welled up in your eyes as you bent down to pick up your phone. There was a huge crack right down the middle of the screen.

“You cracked my phone,” you said, trying to keep your composure.

“So? It’s not like it’s worth much anyways. Just ask your boyfriend to buy you one.” Hyunjin’s evil eyes squinted down at you.

“Why are you still on about this? Hyunjin, I’ve never used anybody for money and I never will!” You couldn’t control the tears flowing down your face. “Plus, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I broke up with Jisung today.”

You didn’t know why you were spilling your guts to the last man in the world you would trust. Surely, it was the alcohol.

“Y/n.” His tone had completely changed. He almost looked — concerned?

“Whatever, Hyunjin,” you slurred. “Just leave me alone. You can go back to that girl and have your fun with her.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t care.”

“Y/n, why do you care?” His tone got louder.

“I don’t!” you yelled at him. Your tears made everything even more blurry.

“Y/n! Tell me, why do you care?!” He spat back at you with just as much fury.

“Fuck you, Hyunjin. News flash, not everything in the world revolves around you and your rich and prestigious life. Maybe you wouldn’t be so toxic if you would just understand that.” You screamed at him through your sobs. “Also, I don’t know where you got this stupid story of my being a cash whore from, but I will say this one last time: I have worked for everything in my life and I have never and will never use anybody for their money.”

Hyunjin looked back at you, shocked. You stared back at him in disgust. Not wanting to waste anymore time on him, you stumbled down the street to look for a taxi. However, as you wobbled down the pavement, everything became even blurrier than before. You felt nauseous. You couldn’t control it anymore.

You threw up. All over the sidewalk. You couldn’t stop. Every time you thought that it was over, more and more came out. Your throat burned, and it wasn’t just the alcohol.

As you hurled out all the remains of today’s lunch, your hair was held back.

“Get away from me, Hyunjin,” you groaned. You didn’t want him to see you this weak.

“Who else is gonna take care of your drunk ass, idiot,” he mumbled.

That was the last thing you heard before everything went black.

It was a blinding white light that woke you up. You groaned, trying to block the light with your forearm. Cracking your neck, you tried to holster yourself up.

You were on a leather couch. Squinting, you surveyed the room you were in. It was clean, spacious. The floor was a white marble — there wasn’t a single speck of dust to be seen. Across from you was an incredibly wide TV with many game consoles scattered around it. You looked behind you. There was a large kitchen island illuminated by warm pendant lights. Sitting at the island, on his laptop, was Hyunjin.

“Wh-what happened to me?”

“You’re the worst fucking drinker I’ve ever seen, that’s what happened.”

You rolled your eyes.

Hyunjin ignored you, standing up and leaving for another room. Less than a minute later, he reappeared with a toothbrush and a roll of toothpaste.

“Go clean up. You look disgusting.”

You snatched the toothbrush from his hands. He pointed over to the bathroom and you trudged your way over. His bathroom was huge, almost bigger than your bedroom at home. You felt as if you were in a hotel.

“Your bathroom is huge.” After washing up, you felt not only cleaner, but more awake. “You’re really living the life with your family’s money, huh.”

Hyunjin sighed, slamming his laptop shut causing you to flinch. “Why, after everything, do you think I’m this rich, pretentious fuck?”

You rolled your eyes. Not this again. “Well, why do you still think I’m this money hungry monster?”

“You really wanna know why, Y/n? It’s because Jisung told me so. He was the one who told me that all those years ago.”

You were shocked. Jisung was the one who told him that? Your ex-boyfriend that you had loved and dated for almost three years? You didn’t want to believe it, you really didn’t, but there was this tiny whisper in the back of your mind telling you that it was true. He had a reason to — Jisung was always going on about how Hyunjin always took from him.

“But Y/n, I-” He stopped mid-sentence.

“You what, Hyunjin?”

He pressed his lips to yours, caressing the back of your head. You were shocked, but almost autonomously, your lips parted feeling the heat of his breath against yours. He pressed his body to yours, running his hand down your waist. His lips, the same lips responsible for his perfect smile, felt so soft against your own. You heard the thuds of his heartbeat as he held you closer.

You broke apart, gasping for breath. The realization of what you had done just hit you.

In a panic, you used your whole strength to push his body away from you. “I-I have to go.”

“Y/n, wait!” Hyunjin called.

You paid him no attention. Instead, you ran across the marble floors, hoisted the front door open, and sprinted out. Hoping that Hyunjin wasn’t following you, found your way outside and took a taxi home.

You sat in silence, trying to process what had just happened. You had just kissed Hyunjin. You had just kissed Hyunjin. Hands shaking, you grasped at the ends of your hair, trying to calm yourself down. Did that just happen?

You were more mad at yourself than at him. How could you have just kissed Hyunjin? You hated him. He was nothing but rude to you, never smiling and always accusing you of things that were clearly lies. He made you feel self conscious, nervous, and everything in between. You hated him.

But he was so sweet on that fateful day in high school. He gave you a new pair of shoes when you had slipped during practice, and he held your hair for you when you were drunk. His hair glistened in the sunlight, his smile made your heart race, and his lips ignited sparks of every colour in the rainbow in your chest.

You hated Hwang Hyunjin. You hated how fast you became infatuated with him on that day in high school, and no matter how much you tried to deny it, you hated that your feelings haven’t changed ever since. You hated Hwang Hyunjin. You hated that you loved him.

Curling up in your bed, there was no stopping the tears flowing down your face. You cried and cried upon this realization, and you remained this way for the rest of the day. The effect Hyunjin had on you was bigger than you ever expected, and you hated it.

At school, you tried to avoid as many people as possible. The kiss you had shared with Hyunjin was plaguing your mind, distracting you and igniting the fire that was your inner turmoil. Even the thought of Hyunjin put a strain in your heart. It was the way his breath fanned over your nose, gently tickling it like a bird’s feather and the soft silk of his blonde locks brushing up against your cheeks.

You shook your head, trying to erase any and every thought of that man. Walking to your locker, you were stopped in your tracks, the dam in your eyes starting to crack. You couldn’t do this today. You turned around to go somewhere else — anywhere else.

“Y/n, wait.”

You sniffed, wiped stray tears from your eyes, and picked up your pace.

“Y/n.” He grabbed your shoulder, turning you around to face him.

“Hyunjin, please, I can’t do this today.”

“Are you… Are you crying?” He touched your face, wiping your tears with his thumb. “Y/n, why are you crying?”

You shook your head. You were scared of what would happen if you opened your stupid mouth.

“Y/n, please.” Hyunjin begged. His voice was shaking. “Tell me why.”

You shook your head again.

“Y/n, please.” His voice cracked.

“Hyunjin,” you paused, taking a shaky breath, “it’s because I love you. I’ve loved you ever since the first moment you smiled at my pathetic ass. Even when you hurt me more than anyone has hurt me before… I never had a choice, Hyunjin. It’s always been you.”

You tore yourself away from Hyunjin, embarrassed to your core. That was the most humiliating thing you’ve ever done, but at least you had closure now.

“Y/n…”

“No, Hyunjin. You’ve torn me down and humiliated me enough already. What more could you possibly want?” You demanded, aware that everybody around you was staring.

“Y/n,” Hyunjin rasped, “It’s only ever been you. I’ve spent the last three years miserable knowing that you were with someone else. I’ve-I’ve never even been with another girl in the past three years. I know you have no reason to believe me because I was such an ass. I am such an ass. Y/n, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for projecting my insecurities on you, I’m sorry for accusing you of things I know you’ve never done, and I’m sorry for anything else I might have fucking done. Y/n, I love you. Please, I don’t fucking deserve it, but is there any way you could forgive me?”

You stared at Hyunjin’s bloodshot eyes, tears freely flowing down your cheeks, and before you could even think, you found yourself pressed against his lips. Your eyes closed, savouring the feeling of his soft lips touching your own. His wet cheek pressed against your own, and with a nudge of the nose, Hyunjin deepend the kiss with a raw passion in which you’ve never felt before.

You cradled his head, relishing in his silken blonde hair as you brushed your fingers through his locks. He sighed in response, his breath tickling against your cheek. You were fully aware that everyone on campus had seen both your messy confessions of love, but you didn’t care. All you could do was replay the moment that Hyunjin had said those words — those three tiny words — over and over in your head as you ran your fingers through his hair and kissed his soft, honey lips.

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 313: Deku VS Lady Nagant

Previously on BnHA: Hawks’s super-hot badass murder senpai Lady Nagant showed up to fire a cupid’s arrow into my heart, and a bunch of literal bullets into my son. Deku was all “oh shit it’s Hawks’s super-hot badass murder senpai, what do I do, let me think back to Hawks’s advice for a sec.” Flashback!Hawks was all “anyway Deku so if my super-hot badass murder senpai ever shows up you’re basically screwed so you’d better abscond the fuck out of there.” Present!Deku was all “lol idek why I flashed back to that conversation since I’m just going to do the exact opposite of what Hawks said” and charged directly toward Nagant because WHY NOT. Overhaul was all “waah I need to get back to my boss who I put in a coma out of love” and Nagant was all “jesus christ why did I even bring you here” and had a flashback to AFO who was all “ILU NAGANT IMMA GIVE YOU AN EXTRA QUIRK SO PLEASE CAPTURE DEKU FOR ME PLEASE AND THANKS” and yeah. Shit is all over the place right now and I love it.

Today on BnHA: All Might gets attacked by a pair of discount assassins and is all “Call an ambulance! ...BUT NOT FOR ME” and it’s really badass but also I really wish he would stop tempting fate like this. Lady Nagant is all “[casually flies around town shooting shit]” and I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t read an entire chapter of just that. Deku is all, “[gets shot (≥_<)]” and releases a giant Smokescreen which prompts En to show up. En is all, “( •᷄⌓•᷅ ) (⌣̀ Δ⌣́) ( •̀_•́ )σ (¬､¬) (눈_눈)” which I consider to be a high point of both the chapter and of my life. The chapter ends with Deku using the Third’s quirk to launch a bunch of random objects at Nagant so that he can jump up and grab her arm all sneaky-like, and I’m sure this is going to prompt another week’s worth of discourse that I don’t care about at all, but fuck it, I’m having a good time.

OH WE’RE CUTTING BACK TO ALL MIGHT WELL THAT’S NICE I GUESS. CONGRATS ON NOT BEING DEAD

you named your car??

you named it Hercules??

I love you so much??

please marry me you giant fucking dork???

lmao speaking of huge fucking dorks

who the fuck are you clowns. la dee da we’re gonna murder All Might with our synchronized spear attack!! I mean... they’re clearly trying their best... maybe I should just be nice and politely hype them up like All Might is so clearly trying to do

like okay, but we all agree that this is actually the least intimidating attack any of us has ever seen, right?? these guys zipped up their hoodies all serious-like and are trying to attack All Might and Hercules with their Walmart tiki torches, but just, no?? right?? like the only way this could possibly be effective is if they were trying to kill All Might with secondhand embarrassment

“those are assassins” this is a VERY generous assessment, All Might

OH MY GOD THE TIKI TORCHES ACTUALLY KILLED THE FUCK OUT OF HERCULES

[slaps roof of car] this baby can fit so many weaponized festive backyard lighting solutions in it

and yet, even after watching this with my own two eyes, I still can’t take these dudes seriously. idek what it is. anyways r.i.p. Hercules, I loved you a lot but I guess you weren’t actually a very good armored car were you

omg they didn’t know it was All Might??

okay 1) for a moment there I was like “oh hey maybe they’re not so bad after all” but then a moment later it was like “ah nope, they are.” like, that was an interesting .06 second emotional journey there. anyways 2) All Might you have my permission to kick their asses for this disrespect, and 3) anyone else all of a sudden getting “wouldn’t this be an interesting time for Stain to suddenly show up” vibes?? no?? just me???

(ETA: hmm tbh I’ve still got those vibes and they haven’t gone away lol. Stain?? you out there buddy?? do you want to be cool for just once in your life. ball’s in your court pal.)

OH SNAP ALL MIGHT ARE YOU REALLY GONNA DO IT ARE YOU GONNA KICK THEIR ASSES

PROTECTIVE DAD MODE ACTIVATED?? BECAUSE YOU KNOW I’M HERE FOR THAT SHIT, SO YEAH, FEEL FREE

omg he’s shouting at them about how much Deku has suffered lmao and they’re just like falling over from being scolded

so they have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about though, right? “SIR THIS IS A WENDY’S” well whatever, you killed his pet car so he’s in a bad mood now

OH MY GOD

LIKE, JUST SO WE’RE ALL CLEAR, THESE FOUR PAGES SO FAR HAVE MADE ALMOST ZERO SENSE. LIKE MAYBE 2% SENSE TOPS. BUT ASK ME IF I CARE. GO AHEAD AND ASK. I SAID GO AHEAD, IT’S OKAY. ...NO I DON’T CARE AT ALL THANK YOU FOR ASKING

(ETA: also, the more I look at this panel, the more I’m just like, why the hell would you phrase it like that though, sob. way to doubly tempt fate?? are you trying to give Horikoshi a challenge??)

and now back to Deku who is randomly bouncing around the city and narrating it to himself just in case he was confused about why he was doing this

who are you talking to Deku. but thanks we appreciate it

man you gotta love that overconfidence. the smartest guy in the world warned you away from this lady, so SURE, LET’S RUN RIGHT UP TO HER. “I APPRECIATE YOUR INPUT, FLASHBACK!HAWKS, BUT I’LL TAKE IT FROM HERE” well okay then!!

I think it would be funny if RHA.com put little Buzzfeed-style polls in between the chapter pages so they could survey people at random intervals as they read their way through the chapter. like, you finish this page and then there’s a little poll there asking “do you think Deku’s plan of catching up to Lady Nagant and finding out where Shigaraki is will work?”, and you click “no” just like everyone else and then nod as the results show that 97% of your fellow readers also picked “no”, and you chuckle to yourself wondering how many of the 3% accidentally clicked on the wrong option by mistake, and then you keep on reading

ANYWAY, SO

HOW’S THAT PLAN WORKING OUT FOR YOU SO FAR DEKU. nice kick, though!!

omggggggg

ouch

update: Deku’s plan not really working out. sources tell me my boy has been fucking shot. this is an ongoing story and we will keep you posted with the latest developments as they come in

wait what

feel free to explain to the rest of us what all of this “UNLESS...” and “THAT POSSIBILITY...” shit means anytime, Deku

oh lol did he realize she could fly??

BREAKING NEWS UPDATE, CNN’s John King reports that Deku is still fucked. eyewitness reports now coming in that Nagant is doing no-look shots and basically not even giving a fuck. sources described her mannerisms and expression as “sexy, but in like an effortless sort of way.” we will continue to bring you the latest

so now there’s basically an entire page of Deku being all “ah fuck so she’s basically closing in and she could already hit me with impossible accuracy even from Far Away, so if that’s the case then her being Up Close is probably going to be even worse!” making good use of that Big Hero Brain there, Deku

so now what, you’re doing some kind of spiraling kick thing?? how is that going to help

oh lol he’s using Smokescreen to create some cover. aww, good for you Deku you named one of your Smokescreen attacks

OH NO LADY DON’T TELL ME AFO DIDN’T EVEN FILL YOU IN ON THE BASICS

seriously, AFO?? you basically told her what Deku’s exact strategy was going to be but then couldn’t be assed to drop that little, small, barely notable piece of knowledge that Deku is rocking multiple quirks?? is it supposed to be a secret or something?? you dropped the ball here man

damn this is getting intense now

(ETA: the way En is poking Deku’s head in that first panel is fucking sending me, I love this guy so much omg.)

well then what are you planning, Deku?? I’m actually really curious!! I am genuinely starting to be invested in this fight scene not only in the “wanting to see who wins and how that impacts the plot” sense, but also in the “wanting to see how it happens because the choreography and strategy is actually pretty cool” sense, which honestly hasn’t happened for quite a while now! this is fun

anyway so what’s up Deku, are you going to use another quirk?? I’ve been speculating that he hasn’t actually unlocked the last two yet (since Two and Three didn’t exactly seem convinced when we last saw them), but maybe I’m about to be proven wrong

(ETA: well he clearly has Three’s obviously, but Two’s is still MIA, and that’s the one I am of course the most curious about. that’s the one we’re all curious about, let’s be real.)

OH SNAP???

AHHHH I’M HYPED LOL. ANOTHER SHINY NEW QUIRK LOL SHOULD I PUT UP THE USUAL DISCOURSE DISCLAIMER

(ETA: so yeah, after thinking on it, I’m not gonna say “please no Deku discourse on my blog” this week, but I probably will ignore any discourse that does come my way though, just because I don’t have much interest in getting involved in what would probably be a pretty repetitive discussion. like, I can just sum up my opinions (which is what they are) here instead. in fact here they are lol:

1) I like the SIXQUIRKS and I like seeing Deku be a badass.

2) I also don’t think Deku is too OP. more like he’s exactly as OP as he needs to be at the moment, given that we’re approaching the end of the series. I expect the other kids will also be pretty damn OP when we see them fight again. we’re just at that point now where they’re all badasses (as well they should be; they’ve grown a lot and they deserve it). it’s just that Deku’s the one we’re getting to see right now.

3) of course I miss Kacchan and the others, but for me this vibes much closer to the MVA arc where even though I missed them, I was still having a blast (as opposed to the dark days of the Basement arc where I was pretty much losing it lol). like, even though Kacchan’s my favorite, I still love Deku a lot and this arc has been amazing for him getting to shine on his own (for like the first time, really).

4) y’all know I love the OFA plot and I’ve never been shy about that lol. I like all of the Vestiges a lot. Banjou and his over the top personality; En and his “guy you thought would be serious and :| all the time but is actually hyper-animated and ALL OVER THE PLACE” energy; Shiro who actually is a :| sort of guy lol; Three who I still expect will be fleshed out in a more detailed flashback at some point; and of course Two, who, well. you know what I think about him lol. Bakuverse is still on the table and I’m still hyped. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we still have yet to see Two actually talk to Deku (as opposed to talking to the other Vestiges while Deku is distracted). did he lend him his power yet?? or is he still holding out?? either way it’s definitely going to be a Big Thing when it finally happens and I can’t wait to see it.

5) Lady Nagant is Everything and just because Deku grabbed her arm doesn’t mean the fight is over yet lol. Overhaul hasn’t come into play yet either. not to mention that even if the fight is over, the “where do we go from here” part still has me excited either way. her connection to Hawks and the HPSC is very intriguing and we’ve barely touched on that as of yet; she definitely has more of a role to play in this.

6) last but not least, I feel like every week the discussion is all about how much focus Deku’s getting, and how OP he is or isn’t, and OFA this and OFA that, but meanwhile I’m actually so invested in the character development here though?? the way Deku has distanced himself from everyone (except for the Vestiges, because of course they’re already dead so it’s not like they can die again lol)?? the way he’s pushing himself far too hard and we can see the shadows in and under his eyes, and the fact that he never smiles, and even All Might has remarked on how he isn’t taking care of himself at all?? the fact that he’s so single-mindedly obsessed with focused on stopping AFO?? the fact that he’s still the same sweet old Deku despite everything and was so kind to that fox lady with the umbrella, but there was also something so sad about that scene because it felt like a reminder of the type of hero that he wants to be, but that he’s not allowed to be right now?? because the stakes are too high and the world is falling apart?? and he feels like he’s the only one who can do something about it?? and that he has to be?? and that he is putting so much pressure on himself right now, and it’s absolutely too much pressure for any one person to bear, and I feel like no one is fucking talking about this lol goddammit.

anyway so yeah. I have feels about this, and every week that slow-burn angst is getting more and more intense behind the scenes, and I feel like it’s all going to hit a breaking point eventually. sooner rather than later. it really feels like a mirror of Katsuki’s post-Kamino arc. where all that angst was just churning below the surface for like twenty chapters and then it finally was like “okay it’s time” and it all came bursting out and we got the best five chapters of the fucking series (in my admittedly biased estimation lol).

basically, I know that most of fandom is billing this as either the “villain hunt” arc or the “solo Deku SIXQUIRKS fighting arc” or whatever. but for me, it’s always been and still is the Deku Angst arc lol. the cool fights are a sexy bonus (the worldbuilding less so because even though it’s interesting to see society at such a low point, it’s also very depressing and gets old pretty fast), but for me the thing that’s really keeping me engaged chapter after chapter is seeing Deku like we’ve never seen him before. seeing him all quiet and withdrawn and brooding and focused on AFO, AFO, AFO, and seeing that “he just doesn’t take himself into account” mentality taken to extremes. I am invested in that. I’m soaking up that angst each and every week, and I’m invested in seeing what comes of it. it’s a big picture thing. week to week this arc might just seem like a bunch of villain fight scenes, sure. but Deku’s emotional journey is the thread that’s going to carry this arc through from beginning to end, and for that I’m willing to be patient.

anyway that turned into a BIG OL’ RANT there but yeah! so those are my thoughts on the disk horse as it currently stands. and like I said, I’m open to discussion, but tbh I will probably just wind up repeating these same talking points endlessly so just a fair warning lol.)

anyway so Three says Deku has yet to use his quirk at ALL but now he’s trying to combine it with another quirk?? damn. also please check out En’s face here you guys

En launching a sneak attack up my favorite character list by the sheer power of his expressions alone. he really knows how to make the most of his screentime

OH DAMN DEKU

at this point the 3% from that hypothetical poll earlier are starting to feel prettttty damn smug, I’ll bet. well shit

what in the fuck

?? so like releasing his chi or whatnot?? isn’t that basically just like base OFA all over again?? also Deku did you seriously just apologize to Gran’s cape

update: Nagant has turned her eyeball into a gun

hm. hmmmmmmm. ...okay yep, still somehow sexy

anyway so she’s just floating up there building suspense, as one does. lord I sure hope she has good reflexes because something tells me she’s going to need them

OH SNAP HE THREW GRAN’S CAPE AS A DECOY WHAAAAT OKAY THAT’S SOME SMART SHIT DEKU

LOL SHE’S MAD NOW

JESUS CHRIST SHE JUST NEVER TAKES A GODDAMN BREAK FROM BEING AWESOME HUH

DEKU ARE YOU JUST THROWING EVERY DAMN THING IN YOUR INVENTORY

but without the cape and the hood how will you continue to look like an enigmatic badass. you really can’t. which means we might finally be moving on from the wandering nomad part of this arc, stay tuned

LOL YOU MANIAC

I hope he went full Kacchan with the dialogue there. his face sure looks like it lol. popped out of a building all mad fdskljlkj omg

well this was fun, shit. I still have basically no idea what Three’s quirk does though lol. like, can he use it to charge up objects with kinetic energy or something?? but then what was all of that talk about combining it with one of the other quirks?? or was that just because he was using Smokescreen at the same time??

(ETA: having seen and read an additional half-dozen explanations of Three’s quirk, I can say with confidence that I still have basically no idea what it is or does.)

anyway so!! Deku is a badasssssss but something tells me not to count Nagant out just yet even so. also I really enjoy seeing Deku flip out on people like he doesn’t have a fucking hole in his torso because it reminds me of A CERTAIN SOMEONE and I always love to see him channeling that feral energy; I feel like it’s been a while

anyways good luck to you both!! I truly wish that both of you could win. but if not, then maybe you can at least become friends instead. you have so much in common, you both can fly and have multiple quirks and you’re both badasses, and plus it would just be really funny to see the look on Hawks’s face lmao

#bnha 313 #midoriya izuku #lady nagant #bnha meta #deku meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

Text

The Kind of Girl You Take Home to Mom | Andy Barber x reader (part 1)

summary: Jacob was finally taking his college girlfriend home to meet his family. how was she, a sheltered Harvard girl, supposed to know not to trust the famous, respected lawyer who just so happened to be his father?

word count: 3.5k

warnings: smut (dub con??), age gap, infidelity, fingering, dirty talk, a lil choking, wedding ring kink, lots of awkward conversations lmao

@donutloverxo @evnscvll @ballyhoobarnes

“They’re gonna love you,” Jacob beamed at you as you buckled into the passenger seat.

“I dunno, Jake, I’m not usually a parent’s favorite…” you mumbled nervously, adjusting to be comfortable for the drive. It wasn’t that long of a trip— just from your dorm at Harvard to the southern suburbs of Boston; your discomfort was a lot more psychosomatic, in fact. Isn’t it normal to be afraid to meet your boyfriend’s parents?

“Well, my parents are pretty chill,” he assured you. “Besides, what’s not to like?”

You still felt a little dizzy as you tried to prepare yourself for a weekend with them. You’d hoped Jacob would just have you guys meet at lunch or something but nope, he insisted that you come with him the next time he visited over a three-day weekend and you’d agreed cause you didn’t know how to say no. Now here you were, practicing ‘Hi, it’s so nice to meet you!’ in your head as if you were going to forget how to speak English in the next fifteen minutes.

Honestly, with how nervous you were, it was plausible.

The sun through the trees cast flashing light and shadows through your window as you watched the scenery roll by. Something by Bon Iver was playing through the car speakers, but the mumbled lyrics were lost to your distracted mind. You’d heard a decent amount about his parents through him— his dad was apparently quite the bigshot lawyer— but you had no idea how much they knew about you. You hoped he talked about you a lot but you also sort of hoped he didn’t, so that you’d have a clean slate to start with.

“Your destination is on the left,” Google Maps informed you both.

“There it is,” Jacob smiled as he lifted a hand from the wheel to point to the house. It was nice, really nice, and a little tinge of jealousy hit you.

You took a deep breath and gave him a weak smile as you prepared to meet Mr. and Mrs. Barber.

You went through the motions of every great introduction to people who need to like you. So nice to meet you, I’ve heard great things, you have a lovely home, all that good stuff. Laurie, his mom, was bubbly and kind, and insisted you not call her Mrs. Barber because it made her feel old, apparently; Mr. Barber was a little more stern but still seemed warm enough.

After some basic hand-shaking and introductions, Laurie had explained that she was making dinner. You offered to help but she insisted that you wouldn’t lift a finger while staying in her home. That sure did sound nice, though you felt guilty.

So, while Jacob unpacked your and his stuff in the guest bedroom, and while Laurie was cooking, you and Mr. Barber were stuck together in the living room.

“We’ve been hearing a lot about you,” he informed you.

“Oh, r-really?” you stammered. “Only good things, I hope.”

“Only great things,” he assured.

You nodded, not sure what to say but realizing the conversation was going to peter out quickly…

“You can relax,” he encouraged with a smile, “we’re not giving you the third-degree or anything.”

You let out a little laugh of relief, trying to keep from looking too rigid. “I’m sorry,” you sighed, “I just really want to make a good impression.”

“You already have,” he assured you. “You’re a natural.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you laughed nervously, “I’ve never met anybody’s parents before. I mean, of course I’ve met people’s parents, just not a boyfriend’s or anything— that’s not usually my sort of thing…”

His eyes went a little wide, and you mirrored it as you realized the implication. “Oh, I don’t mean— it’s not like I only do hook-ups or something, I don’t do that, I just meant I’ve never really had a serious relationship before—” oh god, is that a bad thing to say? Does it make me seem like I’m too immature for Jacob; or does he not think we’re serious? “I mean, it’s not like we’re serious serious, it’s not— we haven’t really— we’re not thinking that far ahead, we’re young and all that…” God, even Jacob and I haven’t had this conversation, why am I having it with his father?!

“Well, whatever it is that you two are, he seems to care for you greatly.”

“That’s… good to hear,” you sighed, hoping you could just keep your mouth shut for a few minutes. Awkward silence was leagues better than this.

“The weather’s great so I thought we could sit outside for dinner!” Laurie suggested.

“Sounds lovely, honey,” Mr. Barber nodded, jumping off of the couch at any excuse to get out of this conversation. You resisted the urge to hide your face in your hands.

Their patio was spacious and covered in meticulously-gardened plants, with a glass table that had already been set with four place settings. You helped carry out some of the food and took your seat in the wrought iron chair.

“Do you want any wine, sweetie?” Laurie offered as she turned towards you, bottle in hand.

“Oh, I’m not twenty-one yet,” you explained quickly.

“Well, yeah,” Laurie raised an eyebrow, “but we’re not so sheltered, we know what college kids get up to— just a glass won’t hurt.”

“You’re kind to offer,” you relented, “but I don’t drink.”

“Really?” Laurie questioned, looking a little incredulous.

“Really,” Jacob butted in. He laughed when his mother gave him a look of surprise. “Yeah, I know, she’s like, the one person at Harvard who’s sober.”

“Finally, a little respect for the law in this house,” Mr. Barber added as he stepped out onto the patio.

“You want a glass, honey?” she asked him, seeming to ignore his apparent distaste for her offering alcohol to you.

“Sure,” he nodded, taking a seat.

“So,” Mr. Barber addressed you as he sat down, “what are you majoring in?”

“English,” you answered with a nervous smile.

“And what do you wanna do with that?”

“Whatever lets me read as much as majoring in it allows me to,” you chuckled.

“Do you think you’ll go to graduate school, get a Master’s?” he pressed.

“Actually,” Jacob interjected, “she’s thinking of going for a doctorate.”

Mr. Barber turned back to you with an impressed expression. “Wow! Smart girl.”

Something about him calling you ‘girl’ made you feel yourself blush slightly, and shift in your seat. Or maybe it was the praise. Still, for some reason it coming from him felt wrong but wonderful at the same time. “Um, I suppose so…”

It continued on like that for a while; he and Laurie asked you questions, you and Jacob told a few stories. Mr. Barber managed to get you to open up a little and not be so worried about him judging you or assessing you all the time. But then again, you’d heard he was a bigshot lawyer so he probably knew how to get people comfortable and talking so he could go in for the kill.

Sometimes you caught him looking at you like he was about to go in for that kill at any moment.

“Do you think it went okay?” you asked with faux nonchalance as you slipped into bed, watching Jacob brush his teeth in front of the mirror.

“Okay? I fink it went greaf!” he responded, the toothbrush in his mouth making his words difficult to parse.

You laughed a little at his silliness, though you were glad to hear he thought it was a successful day.

“And they don’t mind us sharing a bed?”

Jacob snorted with a quick laugh before spitting out his toothpaste into the sink. “They’re not conservative like that,” he dismissed with a shake of his head. “I mean, we’re boyfriend and girlfriend, it’s normal for us to share a bed.”

You nodded because it was true, but you also found yourself twisting a piece of your hair between three fingers; you wondered if his parents assumed that you two did everything that was normal for boyfriends and girlfriends to do… and, as always, you wondered if Jacob was growing impatient with you in that regard. He always said that he didn’t mind and was going to wait as long as you needed, but it was still hard to believe. Sometimes you just wished he would break up with you so that he wouldn’t have to deal with celibacy and you wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt.

“You ready for bed?” he prompted, tearing you from your train of thought as he sat down on the other side of the bed.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you agreed with a nod, laying down completely and plugging in your phone.

Jacob switched off his bedside lamp, and you were ready to fall asleep, but he quickly pulled you into him.

Oh, yes, cuddling. This was normal, this was expected; you should feel relaxed right now, and not nervous and confused. You tried to force yourself to, but it didn’t really work.

He hummed contentedly, kissing behind your ear. “Goodnight, honeybun.”

Another girl would love this kind of attention. Any girl should. You smiled, but it was fake. “Goodnight, Jake,” you replied quietly. You really did like him, you never doubted that. But as he drifted to sleep beside you and you took in the surroundings of Jacob’s old room— renovated and updated, but still feeling like the graveyard of a childhood— you couldn’t help but question why you were here at all when you knew, deep down, that this relationship was missing something that couldn’t be found.

You woke up for no particularly good reason in the middle of the night, a habit of yours. Squinting as you lifted up and unlocked your phone, you read the clock: 2:16 a.m.

You sighed and realized that you weren’t going to be able to get back to sleep, at least for a while.

Peeling Jacob’s limp arm off of you and slipping out from underneath the comforter, you tiptoed out of the bedroom and shut the door behind you.

The streetlights cast faint yellow light into the kitchen, enough that you could see somewhat; enough that you didn’t stub your toe, thankfully.

You did your best to open the refrigerator quietly as you searched for a snack. I could make a sandwich but that’s a bit too much food. There’s so much weird diet food in here, is that Mr. or Mrs. Barber’s? A glass of juice probably isn’t enough. Yogurt? Hmm, maybe…

“Burning the midnight oil?” the deep and smooth voice of Mr. Barber came from behind you.

You jumped a little as you spun around, finding him standing in the entryway to the kitchen, wearing pajamas and a smug little smile. You let go of the door and it slowly closed itself; Mr. Barber turned on a dim light and you were able to see him a little better.

“I think we’re a little bit past midnight, sir,” you chuckled softly.

He seemed slightly uncomfortable with the title, shifting awkwardly and clearing his throat.

“Did I wake you up?” you asked, concerned.

“No, no, not at all,” he shook his head. “I haven’t been sleeping so well recently. A finger of scotch usually helps…”

For some reason, him telling you this felt too intimate. You cleared your throat nervously as he poured the aforementioned drink into a crystal glass.

“You really don’t drink?” Andy asked you suddenly, and you laughed a little.

“I don’t know why it’s so hard for you guys to believe!” you replied.

“No, no, I believe you…” he trailed off. “I guess I’m just surprised because Jacob seems really into the party scene. You two seem sort of opposite in a lot of ways.”

“Yeah, we are,” you admitted. “I think it works for us.”

“You keep him honest?”

“I keep him from failing out,” you scoffed, though as soon as you’d said it, you instantly regretted your brutal honesty.

“Ah, I get it,” Andy smirked. “He’s partying while you’re back in the dorm studying enough for the both of you.”

“That’s not—”

“Don’t lie to me,” he instructed, a little more stern than you anticipated. “With what I do for a living, I’ve learned to spot a lie from a mile away.”

You swallowed, thinking this was getting a bit out of hand already. “Well, I ought to get back to bed,” you realized, “and… so should you.”

As you stood up and started to walk past him, he suddenly reached out and grabbed your arm, stopping you.

“Mr. Barber, I—”

“Call me Andy,” he encouraged, stepping closer until you were pressed against the wall and he was pressed against you, finally releasing your arm but leaving you just as trapped. This close up, your height difference was staggering.

“O-okay, Andy, I don’t—”

“Has he fucked you yet?”

The question made your eyes shoot wide open and your stomach burn with embarrassment. How could he ask you something like that? But he seemed cool and collected, staring down at you as he took the last sip of his scotch and set the glass aside.

“I think as his father, I have a right to know,” he added firmly.

“I… we don’t… he and I aren’t…”

“So, no?”

You nodded quickly.

“Well, why not? Is there something wrong with him?”

No, there’s nothing wrong with him at all, and I hate that about him because I should love him but I don’t. “N-no!”

He looked you up and down quickly before responding. “I can’t imagine how he keeps his hands off you…”

You knew you shouldn’t be enjoying this kind of attention, especially from your boyfriend’s father, but something about his gaze made shivers erupt in its wake. You looked away and forced yourself to remember everything great about Jacob.

“He’s been very patient with me,” you explained shakily. “He knows I’m not ready.”

“Not ready?”

“To be with someone… that way…”

You shivered when his fingers began to toy with the hem of your nightgown. “This is nice,” he complimented softly.

“Um, thank you…”

“You’re a very beautiful girl,” he informed you, leaning in a little closer.

“I—” you began, but he was already about to kiss you. You almost melted into it, you almost let your eyes flutter shut as you tilted your head; thankfully, you stopped yourself at the last second, pushing your hands against his chest. He was strong enough that your protest would’ve been useless if he hadn’t chosen to stop in the moment.

“Andy, your wife…” you explained weakly.

“She hasn’t touched me in years,” he grimaced. “She just wants my money, and the appearance of the perfect family. You have no idea what it’s like to lie next to someone every night and still be completely alone.”

For a split second, Jacob flashed in your mind and you wondered if you did have an idea.

“I’m… sorry to hear that…” you mumbled. “But I can’t— you can’t—”

He lifted your chin with one finger, and you looked up at him with wide doe eyes. “Is he treating you right, sweetheart? Is he everything you deserve? Don’t lie to me…”

“He’s…” you whispered shakily, unsure how to respond, “he’s great.”

Andy chuckled incredulously, seemingly not believing your answer. “Listen, he’s my son; I love him, obviously. But I know his flaws better than anyone. And even though I like to think he’s smarter than a lot of boys his age, they’re all the same when it comes to one thing: girls.”

“I think he’s pretty smart in that regard,” you defended.

“If he was smart, he would be taking you to nice places, buying you nice things, treating you right. If he was smart, he would’ve fucked you already. If he was smart,” he smirked a little, “he wouldn’t have left you alone with me.”

His hand slipped under the bottom of your nightgown, grabbing your thigh.

“Andy!” you yelped, but he lifted a finger to his mouth with a soft shushing noise.

“Don’t wanna wake anybody, now do you?”

I kinda do though… you thought to yourself.

His fingers travelled higher and higher, nearly brushing against the edge of your panties; you shivered, wondering if you should stop him, and if so, how.

Your hands were still resting on his chest from when you’d tried to push him away, but instead of fighting back all they did was clench and pull at the soft cotton of his t-shirt as his pointer finger hooked into your underwear and pulled them down.

The thick, calloused pad of his finger swiped through your folds, and you bit your lip. Something about it being the middle of the night, about the forbidden nature of it all, about the way his gaze burned right through you made your entire body so sensitive. He found your clit instantly, and barely had to touch it to get you bucking your hips into his touch; you only somewhat managed to suppress your gasp.

He leaned in to kiss you again, but this time it actually came to fruition and his lips were soft but determined against your own. You reciprocated eagerly, eliciting a little smile from him as you both realized how bad you wanted this even when you shouldn’t. The moment his tongue slipped into your mouth was also the moment his middle finger slid into your tight and pulsing channel. You moaned with surprise and it mixed with his own soft groans while your tongues intermingled.

A second finger joined his first, stretching your walls and making you nearly bite down on his lip in your mouth. He smiled and twisted them within you, pushing right against a spot that made your knees weak, while his thumb stretched out to keep circling around your clit.

He broke the kiss to watch your face, admiring the way your brows furrowed together, and your eyes fluttered shut, and your swollen lip caught between your teeth. Your head fell back against the wall, the effort of supporting it suddenly seeming too much, and it caused you to look up at him and make some awkward yet sensual eye contact.

“Has he ever made you come like this?” he whispered, jealousy apparent in his tone. You shook your head ‘no.’ “Has anyone ever made you come like this?” You shook your head again. “Fuck,” he groaned. “Including yourself?”

You nodded and he laughed a little, stooping down to kiss your neck. “Always such a good girl, huh?”

His tone shifted as realization crossed over his face. “Baby… am I the first thing that’s ever been inside you?”

You bit your lip, feeling a bit embarrassed, and nodded again.

He groaned and pressed his hips forward into your hip; the hard shape of his cock against you made you gasp. “Feel what you do to me?” he smirked. “God, you’re too fuckin’ perfect…”

“A-Andy, ‘m close,” you whimpered

“Come on my fingers, sweet girl,” he encouraged. “I wanna see how pretty you look when you let go.”

It felt like a wave of sensation was about to crash over you, faster than you knew how to handle it. You reached down and tried to push him away by the forearm, an instinctive way to run from the intensity of the feeling as it started to make your eyes roll back and your toes go numb. But he was too strong; your fighting was useless as his fingers kept fucking into you and pressing against your constricting walls.

“No, baby, you can take it,” he hissed. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

Just as you were sure you were about to scream, his other hand clapped over your mouth. You could feel the hard shape of his wedding ring against your lips and just as guilt hit you, so did your orgasm. Your knees went weak; you would’ve fallen if it weren’t for the hand inside you all but holding you up.

Your moans were muffled into his calloused palm as pleasure rippled through you. You felt your channel grip his fingers at the same time as a gush of arousal coated his hand and even began to drip down to his arm.

Your breathing slowly stabilized, and Andy trusted you enough to finally take his hand away. He pulled his fingers out of you and brought them to his lips, licking them with a smirk. “You taste like heaven, honey,” he praised. “Go ahead, clean off my fingers,” he instructed as he pressed the fingers into your mouth; it was already hanging slack from exhaustion. You closed your lips and sucked on his fingers, moaning at your own taste and at the way his skin felt on your tongue.

Once he was apparently satisfied with your work, the hand in your mouth moved back and instead wrapped around your neck as you whimpered.

“Tomorrow,” he growled against your ear. “I’m gonna get you alone, and we’re gonna finish this.”

You were a little too busy panting to respond to that. Honestly, you had expected that you would have some post-nut clarity at this point, or even just be satisfied once you’d reached your peak. But apparently not; even still coming down from it, you already wanted more. With a sigh, you realized that you were already completely addicted to Andy Barber, and you were going to come back for more as soon as you could.

“Tomorrow,” you agreed in a raspy whisper.

(part 2) // (part 3)

#andy barber x reader #andy barber smut #andy barber x y/n #andy barber fanfic #dark!andy barber #kinda...

2K notes · View notes

atlabeth · 3 years

Text

neighborly things - sokka x fem!reader

summary: reader can’t make things for shit. thankfully, she has a cute and crafty neighbor willing to help her.

a/n: im so sorry lmao. i have requests and i have 2 series that havent been updated in like a month but sometimes i just need to write a stupid little oneshot to get back in the writing mood. i did this in an hour

im not a screwdriver expert so dont come at me if some of this info is wrong lmao

wc: 1.6k

warning(s): some cursing but otherwise pure fluff. also i didnt proofread im SORRY im pretty sure they laugh grin and smile like 200 times

“Dammit!”

Anyone unfortunate enough to have a place near you during this time would have heard the phrase on more than twenty occasions, and it wasn’t even noon yet. You had gotten the parts in the mail to put together a new dresser a couple days ago, and had finally decided to take on the task. You didn’t know if it was because you were inexperienced with furniture or just lacked basic comprehension skills, but it was proving to be no less than Herculean.

You threw the screwdriver at the wall and fell back to the floor as you let your arms sprawl out above you. You had been trying to screw in a part for no less than thirty minutes, and if a miracle didn’t happen right about now, you were going to lose your mind.

Your head snapped towards the door when she heard a knock, and your brows creased. “God?” You muttered as you got up, wondering if you had actually thought a miracle into existence.

You weren’t greeted by a deity when you opened the door, but the man standing in front of you was pretty damn close. With ocean blue eyes, hair pulled back in a ponytail with shaved sides, and toned arms, he was a sight to behold. But you had no idea why he was in front of your door.

“Hey, are you okay?” He questioned, genuine concern in his tone.

“Um, yeah, why?” You were trying to rack your brain for any memory of this guy — because you knew you would remember him if you had seen him before — but to no avail. “Also, who are you and why are you here?”

“Right,” he chuckled. “My name’s Sokka. I’m your neighbor; I live—” he gestured at the door just next to your place, “—over there. Moved in a couple weeks ago, so that’s probably why you don’t know me. I’ve just been hearing a lot of cursing and loud noises coming from your place, so I figured I would stop in and see what was going on.”

“Oh. That’s.. very considerate of you, Sokka. I’m just…” you sighed and chuckled at the ridiculousness of it all. “I’m just trying to put together a dresser, and it’s not going well at all. That latest sound you heard was the culmination of my rage. I threw a screwdriver at the wall.”

“Yeah, that’ll do it,” he laughed. “Listen. I don’t wanna intrude on you or anything, but I happen to be pretty good at putting things together. I had to do a lot of furniture construction when I first moved in, plus I’m the one all my friends call when they need help with putting anything together. I could probably help you with whatever’s troubling you.”

“Are you serious?”

“Oh, no. I just go door to door joking around with people, asking if they need help with their furniture, sometimes I ask if their refrigerator is running? It really gets a kick out of them.”

You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly and stepped aside so he could enter your apartment. “Thank you so much, Sokka. I’ve read the instructions a million times, I seriously don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

He crouched down and picked up the manual, turning to a dog-eared page and skimming over the instructions. He pointed at the screwdriver you had thrown against the wall and glanced back at you. “Is that the one you’ve been using?”

You closed and locked the door behind him then walked over to the wall, picking up the unfortunate victim of your anger and spinning it in your hands. “Yeah, why?”

“Do you know what kind it is?”

“Um.. maybe? God, I don’t know. I think it’s a Phillip’s head?”

Sokka laughed and shook his head, holding up the manual so you could see it. “That’s where you’re going wrong. You need a Pozidriv for these screws — they’re similar enough that anyone can make a mistake.”

You stared at Sokka in complete amazement — apparently, your savior lived next door, and he came in the form of a handsome guy with basic knowledge on putting furniture together. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you said as you walked over and took the booklet from himl. You flipped through it a couple times and read over the part, shaking your head in disbelief.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” you repeated, louder this time. “Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get that thing to- to work, to screw, to— whatever you call it?”

“It’s actually to—”

“Thirty minutes!” You interrupted, earning a small chuckle from Sokka. “Thirty damn minutes that I have been trying to get that screw in, and it’s all because I was using the wrong screwdriver. Why would they make screwdrivers that are so similar but aren’t interchangeable?!”

He shrugged and held up his hands. “Don’t ask me — I don’t make the rules, I just follow them. But like I said; this dresser might fall apart if you keep using this thing. I actually have a Pozidriv back at my place, I can go get it and we can finish this up together.”

“God, that would be the biggest help,” you admitted. “But I don’t wanna take up your time — I don’t know how I would even repay you.”

“I’m doing this because I want to help you,” he said. “You don’t have to repay me. Think of it as… as a neighborly thing.”

“A neighborly thing?” you repeated with a laugh. “Well, if you’re offering, I’m definitely not going to refuse.”

“I am offering,” Sokka winked. “And unless you want to be at this for another three days, I think you should take that offer.”

You pretended to deliberate over it before letting out an exaggerated sigh. “I guess I’ll let you help me. I mean, really you should be thanking me for this brilliant opportunity to, um.. hone your skills.”

He laughed, a brilliant sound that made your heart sing, and nodded as he went back to the door. “Thank you so much for letting me put together this dresser. Truly, it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Then I’m happy to be of assistance.”

Sokka grinned then unlocked and opened the door. “I’ll be right back, then we can get started.”

Once he got back, the two of you got to work. The next three hours passed so quickly as you and Sokka talked about everything from the work you did to people in your lives (no girlfriend, thankfully), to exchanging stories — even the silence, though rare, was comfortable.

Sokka pushed the last drawer into its place then clapped his hands as he stood up, admiring the fruits of your labor. “And that’s it! We’re done.”

“Wait, we’re done? Already?” You set down the instruction manual and stood up as well, backing up to Sokka’s position to see what he saw. “Wow, that looks.. that looks just like the picture. We are good at this! Well, you’re really good at this, I’m good at keeping you entertained. But still!”

You held your hand up for a high five and he laughed, but not without meeting it with a satisfying clap.

“It does look pretty good,” he admitted. “And not only do you have a brand new, fully functioning dresser, you also had the priceless experience of spending three hours with the neighbor you know nothing about.”

“That’s not true,” you countered. “I know that you’re really good at putting things together, you’re a genius when it comes to anything math or science, and you hate blueberries.”

Sokka snickered and brushed his hands off on his jeans. “That’s everything there is to know.”

“I dunno, Sokka. You seem like a pretty interesting guy.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s not every day that someone offers to put together a whole dresser just because they feel bad.”

“Well—” he tore off a blank part of the instruction manual and picked up a spare pen from the counter, then put it up against the wall as he scribbled something on it. Sokka put the pen down and handed the slip of paper to you with a smile. “If you ever need any more help with furniture, then call me.”

You could feel your cheeks heat up as you took the paper. Your fingers brushed ever so slightly as you took the slip of paper, and you decided to just go for it. You bit back a grin and tried to sound as innocuous as possible. “And if I want to get to know you beyond the blueberries?”

Sokka laughed and leaned against the doorframe. “Definitely call me.”

“Great.”

The two of you smiled at each other like idiots for way too long before a notification from his phone broke the silence. He jumped from the sudden noise and dug his phone out of his pocket, giving you an apologetic look. “Sorry, my sister just texted me and I gotta get over to her place.” Sokka started towards the door then paused and turned around. “I actually had a lot of fun doing this, though. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You knew you had that same smile on your face, but it just wouldn’t go away. His energy was contagious. “Definitely.”

“Great.” He winked at you one last time then left, closing the door behind him, and finally snapping you out of your spell.

You leaned against the dresser and stared at the slip of paper in your hands, committing the number to memory.

You were definitely going to take him up on that offer.

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin

#avatar the last airbender #avatar #atla #avatar the last airbender fic #atla fic #avatar fic #sokka #sokka atla #sokka avatar #sokka fic #sokka x reader #sokka x reader fic #sokka x you #sokka x y/n #avatar x reader #avatar the last airbender x reader #sadie writes

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froggysoup · 3 years

Text

wowee

Alrighty I’m just gonna ramble on about my thoughts on the new quest (and things in general because I talk too much) and pray that at least some of it ends up coherent. Spoilers, by the way.

I’ve had this first theory since the last archon quest but got nervous and didn’t share, so here it is now. Maybe it’s an obvious thing that I’m just in the dark about, but I’m fairly sure that Dainsleif’s “Boughkeeper” title has a large part in explaining why he knows so much about things he really shouldn’t. From the newest quest, we learn that he is actually cursed with immortality, which could explain some it, but the guy still knows too much for it to simply be chalked up to his age. He’s literally the designated narrator for half of the official videos and knows a lot about what and who he talks about.

I suspect that the ley lines serve as an information network of some sort, and that Dainsleif’s position as Boughkeeper allows him access to it in one way or another. The only other places we really see the whole tree/branch thing is with the ley line branches, Irminsul trees, the Frostbearing Tree, and the tree who once had roots that spanned the whole continent (which we know the ley line branches were once directly a part of), all of which are connected in a way that I haven’t quite figured out yet.

Now, from those screens that come up while the game is loading, we know that supposedly, the intertwined roots of the Irminsul trees far beneath the earth determine the pattern of the ley lines above, and we also know that ley lines are a “mysterious network that links the whole world together” and that they are said to remember everything that happens in the world. From this, I don’t think it’d be that much of a reach to say that Dainsleif can access that somehow.

Next. I do think there’s a pretty good chance that the Archons were involved in the destruction of Khaenri’ah. The Viridescent Venerer set actually tells us how the former Dendro Archon died during the cataclysm while in Khaenri’ah, which. Uh. That’s kind of really incriminating.

However! Obviously, we’ve only heard this from Dainsleif’s point of view and he’s pretty biased considering his whole thing. We don’t know how much control Celestia has over the Archons’ actions, either, and I’m about 98% sure that some of them weren’t into it, and likely didn't even have a choice. Like, look at the Tsaritsa. Her whole thing is that sometime during the cataclysm, she witnessed something so view-shattering and unjust that her whole thing now is to “burn away the old world” and overthrow Celestia.

I also can’t see Venti and Zhongli going along with the destruction of an entire nation with no hesitation. Like, obviously, again, Dainsleif is going to be biased, but from what we’ve been told Khaenri’ah didn’t even do anything divine-retribution-worthy. Celestia just seems be into dropping skyscraper-sized pillars and other things onto nations who get too good at being independent, for whatever reason. The new quest is definitely supposed to make us question the current systems of this world but I don’t think we’re meant to hate Venti or Zhongli, at least yet. I think they’re even kind of meant to be seen as the “best” out of the Archons, so to speak. (Not that I think they’re perfect, by any means.)

Like, just look at the way they’ve been presented to us, versus how some of the other Archons have been introduced (Storyline Trailer, my beloved).

Raiden Shogun is made out to be some self-absorbed divine ass-kisser who doesn’t have humanity’s best interests at heart (which we know is supposed to be a thing you do as an Archon). She’s doing her whole confiscating visions and oppressive rule thing in an effort to be seen as more divine, but, as Dainsleif puts it, “what do mortals see of the eternity chased after by their god?”

The Dendro Archon/God of Wisdom is implied to not actually be as smart as somebody with that title is supposed to be, one way or another, and either has turned a blind eye to or blatantly encourages the “push for folly” in Sumeru. Can’t tell exactly what that would mean or entail (thanks, Dainsleif), but obviously. Doesn’t sound good.

Dainsleif says of the Hydro Archon that she “lives for the spectacle of the courtroom, seeking to judge all other gods. But even she knows not to make an enemy of the divine.” While the not making an enemy of the divine thing I get (I guess, coward), the whole “seeking to judge all other gods” bit seems very “remove the log from your own eye”-y. Like, you’re an Archon, too, what are you trying to prove here?

The Tsaritsa is- well, the Tsaritsa, as we know. While I do think we are meant to sympathize and agree with at least part of her core ideals and motives, she still is the one behind the Fatui and is, by extension, a war criminal. She also apparently has “no love left for her people”. It’s a bit of a complicated relationship that we have with her.

The only ones who Dainsleif does not directly slander in the trailer are Venti, Zhongli, and Murata. While I don’t think we have enough on her to come to any conclusions about her character yet, Venti does say of her that she is a “wayward, war-mongering wretch”. Now, he does also jab at Rex Lapis during this voiceline, but unlike with Murata we know that those two are buddy-buddy and it was very likely that it was “buffoon (affectionate)”.

Venti and Zhongli are also the first two Archons we encounter, which is important for multiple reasons.

Gonna derail for a bit because I don’t know where to start. But. The game very likely will (or at least should) end with no Archons.

Obviously, especially in light of the new quest (although this stuff has been floating around since the Dragonspine update and even before that), Celestia Bad. Like, cataclysmically bad (lmao). In fact, I’m highly certain that you could trace basically every problem in this game back to them, some way or another.

Even our main “villain” groups all seem to be gunning for Celestia. The Fatui obviously work for the Tsaritsa, who’s made it very clear that she plans to rebel against the divine. The Abyss Order, too, has their Deeply Upsetting plan of creating a mechanized god with the power to “topple the divine thrones of Celestia”.

Evidence points to an overthrow of Celestia at some point in the game, and considering how being an Archon or even a god is directly tied to Celestia, yeah. No more Celestia means no more Archons.

But even besides that, there’s a lot there to suggest that that’s where things are going.

I find it interesting how Mondstadt’s our prologue chapter, or that there’s even a prologue chapter of the game at all. Prologues are meant to set up ideas that will be present throughout the rest of the story, and Mondstadt does exactly that. Venti’s let the people of Mondstadt govern themselves and has almost completely been out of the equation for millennia, even if that means he is significantly weaker than his godly peers. When asked why he chose to do that instead of remain in charge and just give them freedom, Venti responds that “freedom, if demanded of you by an archon, is really no freedom at all.” This sentiment is also brought up in the Mondstadt portion of the storyline trailer, and the traveler even has a whole voiceline debating what Venti really meant when he said that.

This idea of freedom and that humanity is capable on its own is further reinforced in Chapter 1, in which Liyue learns to move on from the death of its Archon. Zhongli set up his plan with the intention of testing if his people could stand on their own legs without him there to guide them, and they do. He even expresses how pleasantly surprised he is that the Qixing were able to take advantage of the situation and seize control like they did. Keqing gives us this whole speech when we first meet her about how the adepti and gods underestimate humanity’s capability and how Liyue’s future is meant to be a godless one. This, in a way, extends to the rest of the continent as well.

In the storyline trailer (which I quote too often, I’m sorry. My favorite and only party trick is that I got bored one day and memorized the whole thing), Dainsleif spends the entire Khaenri’ah section musing about something similar.

“In the perpetual meantime of a sheltered eternity, most are content to live and not to dream. But in the hidden corner where the gods’ gaze does not fall, there are those who dream of dreaming,” is obviously about the people of Teyvat vs. those in Khaenri’ah. While a future under the care of the Archons is a safe and reliable one, is it one that allows humanity to chase its potential to the fullest? Khaenri’ah was destroyed for flourishing like it did without gods, both as a punishment and a warning to everybody else.

“Some say a few are chosen and the rest are dregs, but I say we humans have our humanity.” This is in reference to visions. Throughout the game, this idea that, at least in the eyes of the gods, vision holders are more important than those without them, is constantly brought up.

In the commission “Leaves on the Wind”, Dr. Edith expresses how it often seems as if vision holders are the main characters of this world. From the notebooks we receive during the “Time and Wind” world quest, we learn that the Sumeru Academia actually discourages non-vision holders from conducting outdoor surveys, and how “these days... trying to be an academic when you don't have a Vision, it's really restricting...” Dainsleif even just straight up asks us what we think the gods think of vision holders and people in general during question time in that one quest.

In Lisa’s stories, we learn that the reason for her laziness is that a part of her is afraid of learning or doing too much, after witnessing what “uninhibited erudition” can do to people during her time in Sumeru. She also senses that something beneath the surface is happening regarding the distribution of visions. “For whatever reasons, the gods gave humans the key to changing everything, but they did not explain the cost involved. Lisa grew fearful of the truth.”

I forgot exactly where I was going with that last paragraph, but yeah. There’s definitely sketchy shit going on behind the scenes in regards to visions, possibly to keep people either quiet or complacent. I suspect it may even be to restrict access to certain knowledges or even the elements themselves. Anyways.

I lose track of my thoughts too often. Fuck. Right. Mondstadt and Liyue served as good examples of society under the rule of the Archons, and in Chapter 2 we will encounter our first bad example, showing us the pros and cons of the current situation. However, despite Zhongli and Venti seeming to genuinely care for their people, humanity’s wellbeing shouldn’t be reliant on how their god is feeling that day, and they shouldn’t have to look to the gods for a chance to become something greater than themselves, either.

Um. All that’s to say I’m just very excited to see where the story will go, and if Zhongli’s contract with the Tsaritsa is any indication then it’s gonna go somewhere good. Celestia bad, Archons bad but also not bad but also bad, I don’t know if what I just wrote actually even counts as understandable, thank you and good night.

#i talk too much without saying anything substantial i'm so sorry #genshin impact #genshin impact theory #does this count as dainsleifposting?#i'll tag it anyway #dainsleifposting

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teashoptiramisu · 3 years

Text

Todosibs (and other BNHA) rec list

I started another BNHA fic reclist and it got long so I'm putting it here as I tend to.... on my ATLA sideblog. Don't worry about the logic of this too much, haha. Anyways, a lot of these are pretty well known, but maybe some are new to you! I'm also giving pitches for why I like them geared towards specific requests, and I'll list the original request at the bottom of the post so if you guys have further recs that meet these requirements let me know!

Not all who wander are lost -- https://archiveofourown.org/works/17950646 -- 27k words, complete -- Has probably been rec’d here before, and I was re-reading it today as a treat, I still love it a lot! All four Todoroki siblings run away together after Rei burns Shouto. I love the characterization, and how the author draws on their own experience as a foreigner working in Japan, and how they did their research on missing child cases and child homelessness in Japan (it doesn't go hugely in depth but I appreciate the authors' notes discussing this, even if it's, well, incredibly tragic. There’s more light hearted cultural notes as well!)

make this feel like home -- https://archiveofourown.org/works/21852745 -- 27k words, complete -- we already rec'd this to you but adding it here for completion. A character-focused Todosibs fic with EXCELLENT portrayal of sibling relationships. I re-read this one A LOT.

Dragon Head, Snake Tail -- https://archiveofourown.org/works/17195510 -- 61k words, incomplete -- Another Todosib favorite that deals with canon and also an AU in which Rei got a divorce and everyone mostly grew up away from Endeavor. I love how the sibling relationships are depicted, but I also love how the author is a huge kanji nerd who fully lean's into Horikoshi's love for punny names and the long authors notes explaining how they came up with every new name in the fic. It's occasionally bittersweet but mostly a fun & humorous fic.

Twin Swap -- https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867879 -- 55k words, on hiatus with 2 complete arcs -- do you want Todosibs AND great villain characterization? (well mostly Fuyumi & Touya, but Natsuo is there for a bit too). Anyways the fic is mostly pretty lighthearted in tone, but it's also not afraid to hit hard in the characterization department, and I really love how this author wrote all of the League members. I re-read this one a lot.

No Such Thing As a Hopeless Case -- https://archiveofourown.org/works/16806328 -- 14k words, hiatus (and right on a cliffhanger too!) -- All Might accidentally kinda adopts the league of villains? Again, great LOV characterization, and I think you'll like how it explores the societal factors and personal tragedies that lead them to and keep them at the margins of society. also, some really terrible puns, which are my favorite thing

could i but teach the hundreth part -- https://archiveofourown.org/works/12558048 -- 5k words, complete -- a post-canon outsider-POV fic of Class 1-A visiting and taking care of a retried All Might. It’s just short and sweet.

Missing Everything -- https://archiveofourown.org/works/30128547 -- 52k words, in progress -- AU where Izuku doesn't learn of All Might's secret during the slime attack, but manages to befriend him through his civilian identity. Recommending this for the really interesting (to me at least) characterization of All Might and examination of his flaws and the toll of his career, and recently it's gotten into some interesting exploration of the details of the Hero System with the beach clean up.

Q.A.B. -- https://archiveofourown.org/works/27665101 -- 18k words, complete (w/ a sequel just starting out!) -- a really excellent social media fic in which Izuku stays quirkless and doesn't go to UA but does gain a following online for his quirk analysis and hero blogging. Also features great characterization of Todoroki, Kaminari, and some of the Vigilantes crew.

Yesterday Upon the Stair -- https://archiveofourown.org/works/8337607 -- 460k words, complete. You're probably aware of this fic since it's the highest hit count in the fandom, but I really think it fits your requirement and writing and character work! I know some other people who think the writing and character work are mediocre though, which I'm baffled by... but YMMV? The beginning is weaker and my absolute FAVORITE part is the Nighteye arc, which is the last 20% of the fic, but I would say it really starts to hit its stride by chapter 9~10? If you aren't enjoying it by then it's probably fair to expect it won't catch your interest later.

I can't believe no one has written any "self insert as Bakugo" fanfics... - https://archiveofourown.org/works/17662220 -- 70k words, infrequent updates -- I like this one for taking a weird as hell premise and REALLY rolling with it. It's somehow pretty similar to a lot of more positive takes on Bakugo's relationship with the Midoriyas while also being very much it's own thing. The author is NOT "far out of high school" though -- it's hilariously clear from the SI's reactions to certain quirks that the writer started this while taking lower division universtiy physics (and personally I love that). Also appreciate SI!Bakugo's war with Nedzu to get proper counseling and mental health support for class 1-a after all the shit they've been through.

It's Over, Isn't It (it's only yet begun) -- https://archiveofourown.org/series/1269638 -- 66k words, abandoned series with several complete stories -- AU where All Might dies rescuing Tenko from AfO but other than that it's a heartwarming fix-it! Same author as YUTS, very positive portrayal of Nighteye, excellent character writing for many other characters.

Subject: A Comprehensive Report -- https://archiveofourown.org/works/16037609 -- 83k words, infrequent updates -- another very popular fandom staple, but hey it's really good! A social media fic with quirkless Izuku interning with Nighteye as an analyst. Has some very interesting exploration of the legalities of Hero Society and how the status quo developed.

For Fools and Utopias -- https://archiveofourown.org/works/22547254 -- 89k words, updates regularly -- okay grace is the one who rec’d this fic to ME but to anyone stumbling across this reclist on tumblr, THIS FIC IS A MUST READ. Absolutely the BEST, more thought out and gutting portrayal of the flaws of the hero system, and how the different characters struggle with it. This fic GOT to me, hard, I’m still thinking about it a lot. Takes place roughly a decade post-canon, in an AU where Izuku never met All Might or went to UA, and nothing got fixed (yet! they’re trying!!). Features absoulely STELLAR characterization of Midoriya, Shinsou, Todoroki, his sibblings, Ragdoll, and more!!

Here’s the original request:

any of the following in any combination: - really good writing - sophisticated character work - engagements with the ethics of the hero system - some kind of actually nuanced take on the Todoroki family - anything obviously written by people who are long out of high school (sorry for being old) - adults todobaku - good looks at the villains because guess what I continue to be weak for villain stories - basically anything that's Really Good - I like grey areas

(to clarify, I, teashoptiramisu, am not the originator of this request but I’m also interesting in reading more fic exploring these ideas, so if you have any more fic that you think meet it feel free to drop the link(s) in a reblog or send me an ask!)

#fic recs #fic rec #fic recommendation #bnha #not atla #long post

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bearlytolerant · 3 years

Text

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Solavellan (Modern AU)

Ch Rating: T

Ch WC: 2169

AO3

Chapter 7

Another day at the office. Editing, emails and the ever elusive caller that enables equal opportunities for playing phone tag. A game Solas never enjoys participating in. The morning slides by and Varric is at his desk, twirling his keys around his finger.

“Lunch?”

Solas glances up and sighs. “I’m trying to get a hold of Seeker Pentaghast. Sera said she had more info on an agent that might have a lead on Crystal Red.”

“That sounds like a lot of maybes and probablys and a whole lot of I don’t give a fuck. You’re allowed to take a break and get some lunch.”

“What if they call while I’m away?”

“They can leave a message. Now let’s get out of here before we don’t have any time at all for food.”

Solas shoves back his chair and follows Varric. “I did pack a lunch today,” he mentions.

“Save it for tomorrow then. I’m craving some street tacos and there’s a truck just up the road. I’ll buy so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“I am less concerned about finances and more concerned about getting food from a truck.”

“Ah, live a little Chuckles,” Varric says as he gives Solas a whack on the back.

“If living a little, as you say, means spending two days on the toilet. Perhaps I do not wish to live a little.”

“Well come with me and grab something else. I’m sure there’s something you’d find worthy of your tastes nearby.”

A half hour later and Solas is holding a taco that’s worth the regret he’ll experience from his future self. Some chipotle mayo dribbles down his chin and he swipes it away while pulling out his phone.

He checks his messages. One from Sarya and one from Veda. He taps on the one from Veda first.

Connor went home sick. Pick me up after school today?

He checks the time and swears. How did he not realize he took such a late lunch? She needs to be picked up right now. He dials her number as he stuffs his arms into his coat.

“Veda needs to be picked up,” he tells Varric as he shoves the remainder of his taco in his mouth.

“Got you covered,” Varric replies.

He mumbles a garbled, “thanks” then takes off down the street. Solas is just a block away from his car in the parking garage when she picks up.

“Hey papae!”

“Hello. I apologize. I just now saw your text. I will be late.”

“No worries. I can always watch the band practice until you get here.”

“I will be there soon.”

“Okie doke.”

He says he loves her and hangs up. Sprints the rest of the way down the street, half choking and wishing he’d at least drank some water but makes his way to his little car without incident. He hops inside. Starts it and zooms out of the garage. He’s speeding which has him checking his rear view mirror constantly. But of course, the city has a million stop lights and he hits every red one. He gets to her school later than he ever intended.

He parks, shoving his glasses all the way up his nose, and searches for Veda at the stadium. He spots her in the bleachers, chin resting in her hands and her copper braids coming undone in the breeze. He takes the stairs to meet her two at a time.

“I am so sorry to make you wait,” he says as he wraps her in his arms.

“Seriously, papae. It’s not a problem at all.”

“But what if it had rained? Or stormed like yesterday?”

“I would’ve just stayed inside. Besides, that didn’t happen.”

He sighs, berating himself a little internally. Then he walks with her back to the car. Slides in and clicks his seatbelt in place.

“What’s this?” Veda asks.

Solas glances over at her. She has Sarya’s camera in her hands. He hadn’t even noticed it there. He calmly says, “a camera.”

“Pssh, obviously. But I don’t remember you having a camera.”

“It’s a friend’s,” he says. “We went out for lunch and they must’ve left it.”

“Oh,” she says. “How was work today?” She’s still fiddling with the camera.

“It was work,” he says. Thankfully she easily dropped the subject. “Not much was accomplished.”

She gasps. “Your friend is so pretty. You’ve never mentioned her before. New coworker?”

“No. Just a new friend I met.”

“She looks familiar—and she’s a wonderful photographer. Maybe we should have her take some pictures of us. We haven’t updated our family photos since I was ten.”

“That’s a wonderful idea Veda. However, my friend is only visiting for a short while. I’m not sure there would be enough time to squeeze some family photos in.”

“Bummer. You look so happy around her.”

“I don’t always look happy?”

“You look a different kind of happy with her. It’s nice.”

He takes her words and holds them close to her chest. “Anything interesting happen at school today?”

“Yeah,” she says, then she unloads a multitude of stories. How one of her friends got their tooth knocked out by a basketball in gym. How she accidentally used Elvhen in her Tevene class and didn’t notice until the whole class was just staring at her.

“Did you feel embarrassed?” he asks as they pull into the garage.

“A little. But I mostly found it funny. The way the other kids looked so confused.”

“Does anyone treat you differently when you speak Elvhen?”

She shrugs. “There’s a couple of kids who say stupid things but I don’t hang around them.”

“Veda, I’m happy to speak with the administration if your having trouble with other students—“

“While I appreciate that, I can handle a couple of kids who are jerks.”

“Very well but if you ever—“

“I know.” She slings her backpack in her back then kisses his cheek. “Can I go to Varric’s house? I want to see the cats and hang out with Cole for a bit.”

“Yes, so long as you check with—“

“Already did.” She steps out of the car. “Going to drop my stuff off inside then I’ll see you later.”

“Text me when you want to leave. I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay. See you later, papae.”

Solas sighs. He’s glad she still talks to him and he still gets to see her but there’s also this tiny ache in his chest that misses her always being around the house. But he reminds himself that this is a good thing. It’s just new and he pulls out his phone to read his messages from Sarya.

Hey I’m going to try and stop by your work around 3:15 today.

I stopped by your work but you weren’t there. Saw Varric though! He introduced me to everyone and it was fun! I really like Sera. She’s hilarious! And Merrill was so sweet! Anyway, hopefully I’ll see you sometime soon. 😉

—

“I fold,” Sarya says, she takes a drag from her cigarillo. Then throws her cards face up on the table.

“Already?” Han asks. “What a shame.”

“Your mind must be elsewhere, Sarya. I’ve never known you to throw a game,” Vilanti says as she shows her cards.

Han takes the game and lets out a whoop as he gathers them all to shuffle.

“I still can’t believe Dallen just up and left us. Did he say anything to either of you? About his plans.”

Both of them shake their heads.

“It’s really odd.”

“I don’t know why you care. Easier to keep yourself from using him. Easier for him to be happy this way,” Han says.

“Ouch,” Vilanti grimaces, then gestures for all the cards to be handed over. She shuffles.

“I do agree with that actually. It’s just that most who move on from our happy little family tend to give us more of a notice. We didn’t get to give him a proper goodbye.”

“I don’t mean to sound callous here Sarya, but you were the only one who cared about the guy. Makes sense why he moved on.” Vilanti deals.

Sarya picks up her hand and stares straight through the cards. “That’s not true.”

“Basically,” Han argues. He draws a card.

“Sometimes you both are mean.”

“Not mean. Just honest,” Han says.

Vilanti draws. “On another note, I heard Makon made a new friend today.”

“What?” Sarya nearly drops her cards. “Our Makon? Makon—stoic, quiet, unsociable Makon?”

“Yep. Met her at the gas station. She was passing through on her way to Wycome and her motorcycle broke down. He fixed it up for her on the spot and they exchanged numbers I guess.”

“What the fuck?”

“Good for him,” Han says.

Sarya draws a card. “Yeah, seriously. I hope that works out.”

“Our next gig is in Wycome and he plans to see her then.”

“Was it love at first sight or something?” Sarya asks. She folds and picks her cigarillo back up. Her interest in cards declining by the second.

Vilanti shrugs and plays her cards, taking the game. “By the way he keeps talking about her, I’d say yes.”

“What’s her name,” Han asks, gathering all the cards into a pile.

“Athi. Athi Lavellan.”

“Another Lavellan huh?”

“Guess so. Maybe she’s related to you two,” Vilanti says.

“Doubt it. Or if she is, it’s very distant,” Han says.

In the distance they hear yelling and smashing bottles. They all exchange looks.

“Wonder who the hell set Deshanna off—“

“Let’s go see if we can smooth things over,” Han says with a sigh.

“You two can go. I’ll probably make things worse. I don’t think he likes me much.”

“That’s because you push his buttons. Definitely better for you to stay here,” Han tells her.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Then she waves at them as they slip out the door and finishes off her cigarillo.

—

It’s dark and quiet and Sarya gazes longingly out the window at a small patch of stars. The only patch not hidden by the clouds. She sighs and startles at the sound of knocking. Straightening herself out, she rubs the redness from her elbows and opens the door.

“Solas,” she says it like she’s expecting him but she’s truly surprised. She steps out with him, shutting the door behind her.

“You forgot your camera,” he tells her, holding it out in his hands.

She takes it from him, hanging it around her neck. “Thank you. I should really start keeping better track of my things or you’re going to start thinking I’m trying to bait you or something.”

“I would bite every time,” he says, his hands clasped behind his back. There’s a certain sparkle in his eye and she can’t read him. But she knows she wants to kiss him. So without another thought, she stretches up on her toes and takes him by surprise. He is frigid and she panics, certain she has misstepped. After all, friends don’t kiss like that.

“I’m sorry,” she says, a little out of breath. “I don’t know what…”

Her words are caught on the edge of his lips as he captures her mouth again. His kiss is unreserved but not what she’d call passionate. Like the kiss of a long time lover. A kiss of promise. Of commitment. Her mind screams at her to let go while simultaneously wishing and longing for more. His leg is pressed into her inner thigh and despite the chill of the air, she’s certain she is on fire. Her nails are in his shoulder, the camera even hurts just a little as it presses into her chest, and she doesn’t mean to let out a moan but it’s too late for regrets as he pushes her against the side of her trailer. One hand above her and the other in her hair. With each breath she steals between kisses, she studies his face. Memorizes it and stores it for always. Freckles for days and the tiniest scar above his brow. The only sign of his age lies in the lines of crows feet near the edges of his eyes and she tells herself to ask if he has a skincare routine. He certainly seems the type.

She studies his closed eyelids, there’s two freckles on the right and a singular small one on the left and she notices that there’s even some red in his brows and wonders if they’d have red headed babies.

She gasps then. Pulls away. Why in the hell is she thinking of babies?

“Perhaps I should…”

“Kiss me again,” she says to him. She won’t let one ridiculous thought ruin the moment. She knows that she’s falling for him. Too fast, too soon but she’s holding on for another day.

When they break apart she doesn’t want him to go. But it’s too much to ask him to stay. So she waves goodbye then clicks her camera, saving the image of him walking away.

#dragon age #solavellan #modern au #solas x Sarya Lavellan #circus au #free falling #bear writes

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let-it-raines · 3 years

Text

I Hope We Never See October (1/?)

Summary: When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

a/n: Do you know what’s a great way to distract yourself from writing and other responsibilities? By writing a story that you shouldn’t be writing. So, here we are, and I hope you enjoy 😂

On AO3 | Here |

-/-

June

The ocean water runs over his toes before disappearing, heading back to its home beyond the sand. It’s a cool contrast against the heat of the sun that’s warmly beating down on his skin, but it matches the chill of the beer bottle against his palm. Who knows what time it is? From the emptiness of the beach, Killian is guessing it’s mid-morning, but seriously, who the hell knows anymore?

Likely everyone other than him.

After more water washes over his feet and up his ankles, he decides the water is too cold to stay standing this close to the shoreline, so he walks up the path to his house and closes the gate behind him. He sits down at the bench by his pool and then buries his face in his hands before moving to take a sip of the beer.

God, he hopes it’s not truly the morning because he’s one second away from tipping the bottle enough for the beer to tumble down his throat.

Killian yanks it away and tosses it to the ground. He expects the damn thing to shatter against the tile, but it doesn’t. It rolls away into the grass, spilling a little beer with every turn until it stops against the tall grass lining the gate. Killian bends down and picks up another bottle, popping it open, then pouring it out. He does the same thing over and over again until his grass is fertilized with alcohol.

At least his body isn’t.

What a thought to have (presumably) so early in the morning.

His eyes close, the sun no longer blinding his vision, and he starts picking up the bottles, chasing them around and cursing himself for even buying the damn case in the first place. He has no clue what damn day it is, but he does know that it’s too damn early for him to be drinking. And if he’s going to get wasted and waste his day, he might as well do it with rum or whiskey. He doesn’t even like beer.

Killian chucks the bottles in the bin resting against the side of the rental house and goes through the side door into the kitchen. It’s clean today, all the white countertops empty of plates and pitchers and the junk that accumulates over time. The living room is clean as well, all the pillows in the right place, the throw blankets over the correct corners of couches, and he can see vacuum lines in the rug. He’s sure if he were to walk to the mantle, it’d be empty of dust. Ariel must have sent someone in to clean yesterday while he was away from the house. He’s got to have her stop doing that. He’s thirty-five years old. He can clean the house he’s staying in. He doesn’t need her taking care of his life for him.

Though, it is literally her job, but Ariel takes things far past being his manager. He doesn’t know anyone else who does all the things she does for their client, especially when he isn’t bringing in the same amount anymore. Sponsors aren’t exactly lining up at the door for disgraced football – not the American kind as everyone here believes – players, but he still has a few hanging around and good enough investments that he’ll be alright for a long while. Bored as hell with too much time for him to wander to bars in Martha’s Vineyard before talking himself out of them and sitting in a twenty-four-hour diner all night. He’s got his favorites. One has better coffee than the others, but the booths aren’t clean. Another has clean booths but a piss excuse for coffee, and his favorite has a selection of pies that have him eating in ways he hasn’t since he was young. Still, they’re all pathetic little places for him to spend his time so he doesn’t drink more than he can tolerate.

At least no one knows him here. It’s actually why he’s here to begin with. There are obviously less famous towns and places in the world, but he wanted to be near the ocean, wanted to at least have that if he was going to be in disgraced isolation. This area has beach for miles and different nooks to disappear into, and so far, it’s nice. He’d rather be in London or New York, but he knows this is better.

He collapses onto the couch and sees a note on the coffee table in Ariel’s neat script. When was she even here? Honestly.

Killian, Eric and I are in town for the week. Please come to lunch at our house. We’d love to have you! I know you don’t have anything better to do, so don’t bother calling me with an excuse. Hope you enjoy the clean house!

- A

He runs his hand over his face and scratches at his too-long beard before fumbling for his phone and checking the date and time. It’s half past eight. He can get two, maybe three, hours of sleep now, and he’ll only look half as pissed as he feels when he makes his way to Ariel and Eric’s house a few miles over in Tisbury.

At least he isn’t actually pissed. Always the positives, he guesses.

-/-

Ariel’s house is covered in gray shingles with white trim. The shutters are cherry red, much like her hair, and while there are obvious updates to the place, it looks just as it did in the pictures he’s seen from when Ariel was young. She was raised here, her father a local fisherman, and while she now resides outside of London, on occasion, she returns to Tisbury for a holiday. It’s why he chose to holiday here even if he’s over in Edgartown on the beach in a house too large for one person. He spent years listening to her talk about her childhood, and then visiting when she married Eric here, and he wanted that calm sense of relaxation.

Right now, however, he wants nothing more than to be back in a city. The firing squad won’t be as intrusive there where he can get lost in a crowd instead of being the center of attention.

Killian opens the unlocked front door that squeaks on its hinges, and he immediately smells garlic bread baking in the oven. She must be making her pasta, and his stomach growls for real food. As he walks through the hall at the entrance of the house, he notices that everything is the same, all the family portraits are in the same places, there are a few too many nautical decorations, but it all works. Killian looks into the kitchen, sees that it’s empty, and calls out for Ariel and Eric, no answer. He takes the liberty of checking the oven, and when he notices the bread is slightly overdone, he grabs an oven mitt and takes it out, placing the tray on the stove.

Where the hell are they?

He pushes open the kitchen door that leads to the backyard, and he sees two figures toward the side of the yard. Killian sighs and walks over to them, only stopping when he realizes it’s three people instead of two.

Ariel and Eric are talking to a gorgeous woman in a pair of small white shorts and a fitted polo. She’s got long, thick blonde hair pulled off her neck, and he can’t stop glancing down at her legs. He doesn’t usually pay much attention to people anymore, unless of course they are paying attention to him, but he cannot help but notice her. Because she’s stunning, of course, but also because he wasn’t expecting to see anyone else. He thought they would be isolated, and his gut tells him to turn around and run.

He doesn’t.

“Hello?” he starts, and they all turn to him. “I, uh, took your bread out of the oven.”

“Oh shit,” Ariel mumbles. “I forgot I’d put the bread in the oven. Is it burned?”

“No, I think I saved it just in time, love.”

Ariel’s shoulders deflate, and then she’s closing the distance between them, hugging him tightly, before Eric does the same and claps him on his back several times. He’s missed them, and it feels good to be embraced by something other than a heavy blanket. When Eric releases him, Killian can see the woman still standing in the yard, shifting on her feet.

“Hello,” he greets, nodding in her direction.

“Hi,” she nods back.

“Oh, Emma,” Ariel begins, walking over to her and grabbing her arm, “this is my friend, Killian. He’s staying on the island for awhile. Killian, this is Emma. We rent the house to her for most of the year, so we’ve invaded her home this week, I’m afraid.”

“It’s fine,” Emma says. “You guys basically give me the place for free, and I picked up some extra shifts at the club. I’d never be home anyway.”

“What do you do, love?”

“Not your love,” she corrects, and he feels the sting even if he uses the term for many a woman, “and I’m a manager at a little place by the shore, but sometimes during the summer I’ll wait tables at the local country club for extra money. The people will treat you like shit, but at least they tip well since they have no concept of real-life money.”

“What’s the restaurant?” he asks. “Maybe I could eat there.”

Her brows raise, and he gets the feeling she’s not a fan of the idea of him disturbing her at work. He gets the feeling she’s not a fan of him at all. Funny, his first impressions are usually better than this.

“The Blue Dog Tavern.” She points to the logo on her shirt. “I actually have to go there now. I just had to drop by and get my shirt since my boss is coming by today. I’ll stay out of your way when I get home tonight,” she tells Ariel and Eric. “It’ll be like I’m not even here.”

“Oh, no, honey,” Ariel sighs, smiling at Emma, “we’re the ones disturbing you. I promise, it’ll be a fast week, and then everything can go back to normal.”

Emma nods with a tight smile, and he definitely gets the idea that she isn’t a fan of having Ariel and Eric here. He wouldn’t be either if he had to share his home with his landlords. She walks away into the kitchen, leaving the door open behind her, and Killian makes a note of the restaurant she mentioned, not necessarily to see her but to venture somewhere that isn’t a twenty-four-hour diner.

“Is that why I couldn’t stay here?” Killian asks. “Because you already rent it out?”

“Yep. Plus, it’s not on the beach, and that was your request. This isn’t really to your taste anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, A?”

She shrugs and walks toward the kitchen. “Nothing. I’ve got to finish cooking. I was just about to put the pasta on the stove when Emma came in through the back gate, and I got distracted. Thanks for saving the bread, Jones.”

“Is she okay?” Killian asks Eric.

“Yeah, mate, she’s fine.” He claps his hand onto Killian’s shoulder. “And what she meant by that is that you’re an ex-football player who is hiding from the world and is used to a certain kind of luxury. You’d lose your mind living in this house for months. It’s smaller than a quarter of your flat back home.”

“I would not lose my mind living here. It’s charming.”

Eric rolls his eyes. “You would. I think the giant crab pillow in the living room would be what pushed you over the edge.”

“That thing is still here?”

“It’ll never leave, and I’ve offered to pay Emma to get rid of it many times. I think she throws it out, and it finds its way back inside.”

Killian snickers and settles down on the bench of the dining table they keep outside, letting Eric follow. He feels like he hasn’t talked to another human being in ages, and he’s only been here for a few weeks. “You know her pretty well then? Emma?”

“No,” Eric starts, waving his hand, “no, no, no, no. You cannot go there.”

“What the hell are you on about? I can’t go where?”

“Emma. You can’t go there. She’s not a one-night stand for you. She lives here, takes care of it since we’re gone all the time. You can’t mess that up. Ariel would murder you if you screwed this arrangement up.”

Killian flashes a smile, the ones he’s used to get whatever he wants a million times. There’s an art to being in the public eye, one he figured out only to ruin it all over again, but he still knows the old tricks. Smile, be charming, never let them see any hesitation in your actions. If a question is too invasive or the answer to telling, redirect. It’s all about the redirection. Killian was never one to lie, but he was certainly one to evade, especially toward the end when he couldn’t handle hearing what everyone had to say.

Here, he doesn’t want to admit that Eric might be right about him, but mostly, he’s tired of people controlling his life because they think he can’t make good decisions.

“What?” he laughs, shaking his head. “You think I’m not capable of simply asking about a woman?”

“I think you are, but I don’t want Ariel to have any reason to kill you.”

“Eric,” Ariel yells from the kitchen, stopping Killian before he can speak, “set the table! We can eat in fifteen.”

Saved by the bell. Or the Ariel.

He hates himself a little for rhyming in his head. If this is how he thinks sober, he’s not sure he wants to stay this way.

“And Killian,” Ariel calls, “you can make the lemonade!”

Okay, so maybe he can, if only because Ariel will kill him if he collapses into the pit again, and she won’t be the only one. He’s had a few downfalls into drowning in alcohol since coming here. Maybe it’s boredom, maybe it’s sadness, who the hell knows? What he does know is that it makes the demons all disappear for the night, sometimes the morning too, but then it all comes roaring back in screaming color.

And with a hell of a screaming headache.

One or two drinks every few days, he reminds himself. That’s what he’s working with, and besides the few slips, he’s been pretty damn successful.

Killian heads inside to help Ariel, though he thinks he hinders her more than helps since he can’t find a damn thing, but eventually they get it all done and eat. Mostly, he has to listen to Ariel give him a briefing on things he has to do over the next few weeks. He has contracts to sign, video interviews and conferences to attend, and they need to happen at certain times. That’s a bit obnoxious, but he can’t complain. He’d be the biggest ass in the world if he did, and he’s certainly already in the running for that title. People still want his face and brand to represent them, and he doesn’t even kick around a ball anymore.

Fools. All of them.

Ariel asks him to stay for dessert, but he’s already eaten too much off his usual diet. Old habits die hard, and he isn’t working out like he used to. Maybe he’ll take up running again soon, but right now, the thought is exhausting. Killian excuses himself from the table, hugging the Fishers goodbye and wishing them goodnight. He’s sure he’ll see them before they return to England and go back to their regular lives. Ariel still has Will and Rob to manage, so she can’t spend all of her time on him. There are other pieces of work out there.

The streets are crowded as Killian drives back to his rental house. Tourists and native islanders alike are out to go to dinner or bars, likely a party or two, and while Killian is tempted to take a turn and go out himself, he doesn’t. He continues along the GPS guide back to his rental house until the garage door is closing behind him.

Day seventeen of being here - now that he knows the date, he’s reminded of when he arrived - is done and dusted, and he cannot wait to close his eyes and go to sleep. He’s been running on fumes all day.

Once inside, Killian quickly showers and puts on a pair of pajama bottoms, collapsing under the covers of his bed as soon as possible. So, of course, that’s when his phone rings.

“It’s bloody half past one in the morning where you are.”

“And only half past eight where you are, so why are you in bed? You look horrible.”

Killian groans and pinches his nose as he props the phone up to get a better look at the screen. “Thanks, Els.”

“No problem.” She flips her blonde braid over her shoulder, and despite the time, she looks as if she could be up and ready for work in minutes. “I was up, couldn’t sleep, and I figured I needed to check on you. I’m sorry I don’t have the girls with me.”

“Did you tell Ally and Sophia I love them?”

“I tell them every day, but I think they’d appreciate it more if they heard it from their actual uncle.”

“I’ll call tomorrow.”

“Good,” Elsa sighs. She adjusts herself on her couch, pulling her blanket up higher on her body, and the familiar pang of guilt hits Killian. It happens anytime he talks to just Elsa. The girls act as a buffer, and he feels guilty for using them like that. He feels guilt about a lot of things. “How are you?”

“Good,” he lies. “Really good. I think I’m going to take up real running again soon, maybe finally check out the gym in the basement of this house. What about you, love?”

“I’m okay. Work has kept me really busy, which I like. I have this one house with the biggest garden I’ve ever seen, and designing it has proven to be a bit of a challenge. But I miss spending time with the girls. Anna has been such a big help, though. I love having her here.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure that’s great.” Killian runs his hand through his hair, yanking at the strands, and sinks a little further into the bed. It’s nice that Anna is around, that she’s been around this entire time while Killian fucked off across western Europe and then eventually to America. Yet again, he’s let someone he loves down because he’s an absolute tosser. “It’s nice to have a family you can count on.”

“Hey, don’t start that again, Killian. I’m not here for self-pity. You’ve had a hard year, and you needed some time away. No one is blaming you for that.”

“I’m not the one who lost my husband, love. I wasn’t left with two little girls with no father.”

Killian tilts his head up so he doesn’t have to see Elsa as water gathers around his eyes. Today was an okay day. Started off rough, but it ended up being alright. Now he’s gone and made Elsa talk about Liam’s death instead of having a normal conversation with her.

“My grief doesn’t negate yours, darling. You lost your brother, who was your best friend, and you lost the career you spent your entire life building. We can both be sad. It’s not a competition.”

Killian blows air out his nose and blinks the forming tears away. “How’d you get so wise?”

“Well, you see, when a child with a head the size of a football comes out of your vagina, you get special emotional intelligence. It’s something to do with all the hormones and pain.”

Killian finally looks down at his phone to see Elsa laughing, and the corners of his mouth twitch. “You make me glad to be a man.”

“You should be glad. You’re at least fifteen steps ahead of every woman in the world. Now, come on, I want to hear about everything you’ve been doing. Have you made any friends?”

“What am I? A lad in reception?”

“No, because my child in reception has many friends.”

Killian rolls his eyes. “Well, I met the loveliest waitress last night. Reminded me of my Gran, and, uh, today I met the woman who lives in Ariel and Eric’s house. Don’t think she was a fan of me.”

“However could a woman resist your charms?”

He laughs, even if he doesn’t appreciate the sarcasm, and this time when he sinks a little deeper into the bed, it’s for comfort and not to hide. When Killian got the news Liam died in a Naval accident, it felt like his world was ending, that the ground was crumbling underneath his feet. He was at the club warming up to head out onto the pitch, and suddenly his sacred place wasn’t so sacred. He couldn’t understand any words leaving Elsa’s voice over the phone. Everything was ringing, and his legs collapsed from underneath him.

He’ll never forget that day. One moment everything in his world was right, and then it wasn’t. and he’ll never get over the fact that Elsa has been the one who has had to continue holding him up when she lost someone too.

“Well, if their names are Ally and Sophia Jones, they are experts at resisting my charms.”

“Unless you give them sweets.”

Killian chuckles. “Those are my good charms.” Elsa smiles and yawns on the other end of the line. “Els, I think you need to go to sleep. I promise to call the girls tomorrow.”

She nods and flips her braid over. “Don’t go breaking your promises to them.”

“Never, love. I’m a man of my word.”

Or, at least, he used to be. His word seems to falter lately, but mostly only his words to himself. Killian looks out the glass doors and windows toward the ocean, watching the water crest much like this morning, but he hopes that tomorrow morning he won’t be standing there with a bottle of beer in his hands.

Maybe he can keep that promise to himself at least.

-/-

Tag list: @qualitycoffeethings @marrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @elizabeethan @jrob64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @cowboys-likeme @galaxyzxstark @galadriel26 @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @superchocovian @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @lfh1226-linda @andiirivera @itsfabianadocarmo @captain-emmajones @ilovemesomekillianjones @capthamm

(You can be added or removed at any time. I don’t know where my list went, so I’ve just taken it from my last story 😘)

#I hope we never see october #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #cs fanfiction #captain swan fic #captain swan fanfic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfiction #captain swan

104 notes · View notes

sfb123 · 3 years

Text

Sapere Aude - Part 9

Book: The Royal Heir

Pairing: King Liam Rys x Queen Riley Brooks

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Catch Up Here

Series Description: I developed a theory of what I think will happen in TRH Book 4, and I was encouraged by some very lovely people to turn my theory into a fic, so here it is. Basically, Riley is recruited to join the Via Imperii, this series will follow her as she joins them to try and bring them down from the inside, and all of the drama and bombshells she learns along the way. Sapere Aude is Latin for “dare to know” it seemed like an appropriate title.

Rating: PG-13 Adult language, allusions to smut (but nothing graphic), discussions of death, conspiracy, blackmail, and other adult themes.

Warning: The Royal Heir Book 3 Spoilers all over the place.

Word Count: 2,655

A/N: Before I dive in, a little bit of unpleasant business to address. As you may know, there is another writer that is also working on a Via Imperii themed fic. We had been working together to make sure our stories didn’t overlap to the point of plagiarism, sharing ideas and pre-reading each others work. That partnership was abruptly, and unbeknownst to me, put to a halt this week (3/28/21). She has not read this chapter, and I have not read any of hers past her chapter 9 (which I don’t think I ever saw the final version of, so let’s safely say chapter 8). I just wanted to put that out there in the universe, I don’t want any previous approvals or conversations to be implied or carried over into work I have not, and will not, see. No ill will, it is what it is, I just want to make sure that nobody is misrepresenting anyone’s involvement in anything.

HUGE shout out to my hype squad, @jessiembruno & @txemrn. It’s no secret that I haven’t been feeling to great about myself lately, and they’ve been so great about talking me through it and encouraging me to keep going.

As always, shout out to @twinkleallnight for my amazing, and updated, moodboard!

Tags: I think my tags actually got figured out, so tags are below, but not in the comments as I usually do. If you don’t get the tag, let me know (which is a weird thing to say, because you might not even be seeing this).

Riley stood at the stove, scrambling eggs, when she suddenly felt Liam’s arms wrap around her as he kissed her neck. “Good morning, love. You’re up early.” He said in between kisses.

“Hey you.” She shut off the burner and turned in his arms, reaching up to cup his cheek. “How are you feeling?” She looked at him with worry in her eyes.

“I’m...past the worst of it, thanks to you.” He kissed her softly on the lips. “I’m just ready to move forward and come up with a plan to end all of this. Then I can deal with everything else.”

“You don’t have to bottle it all up until this is over, Liam. You can talk to me.”

“I know, you’ve more than proven that to me.” He winked, a slight smirk on his face. “Taking them down is how I need to work through it. It seems as though a majority of the struggles we have faced have been at the hands of the Via Imperii. Getting my revenge and eliminating them will be a cathartic, healing experience. It needs to happen for the country, and for my own piece of mind.”

She nodded and pulled out of his embrace, taking his hand and walking him toward the island. “Good, that’s what we’ll do then. Sit and I’ll get a plate together for you. I need to fill you in on the rest before everyone gets here.”

“Everyone?” He asked as he watched her walk back to the stove and put two plates together.

“I texted Maxwell this morning, he’s going to come back with Drake so that he can work with us on a plan. He’s already had time to process his dad’s shittyness, so you and Drake won’t have to do all the heavy lifting while dealing with your news.” She placed a plate down in front of him and sat down.

Liam looked at her confused, “Why would Drake still be processing my news? You told him the other day, didn’t you?”

Riley took a deep breath, there was so much she didn’t get a chance to tell Liam the night before. She would have to get through it all now. He had to be completely filled in before Drake and Maxwell arrived. “Not your news, Liam. I had some for him too.”

Riley filled Liam in on the rest of the information she had learned that weekend. Treading lightly when he spoke about Eleanor, making sure not to refer to as his mother, she would simply say ‘she’ and Liam understood. Liam sat there, pushing his own pain aside so he could focus on the task at hand, while also being there for Drake. He knew Drake, and he knew that he was likely feeling a similar storm of emotions, but being the selfless kind hearted soul Liam knew he was, he wasn’t dealing with any of that. Instead, Drake was keeping himself busy by taking care of his friends, just like he had his whole life.

After breakfast, Liam rescheduled his and Riley’s meetings and commitments for the day so that they could focus on the task at hand. Eleanor had her lessons, Drake planned on dropping her off in the Great Room when they arrived at the palace, giving them a couple of hours to talk. Liam and Riley finished getting ready for the day, and headed into the living room just in time to hear the knock on the door. Liam answered.

Maxwell was the first to enter, bounding in and raising his arms over his head “The party is here.” He walked up to Riley and gave her their secret handshake before pulling her into a hug.

Drake entered and Liam shut the door behind him. They turned to face each other, and nodded in silent understanding. Liam extended his hand and Drake took it in a handshake that was quickly, and mutually, pulled into a hug. They stayed like that for several moments speaking to each other in hushed tones that only the two of them could hear.

After a few moments, Maxwell spoke up. “Hey, how come you guys never hug me like that?”

“Maxwell!” Riley yelled in a hushed tone as she elbowed him in the side, making a rapid throat cutting gesture when he looked at her, signaling that he should leave it alone.

They finally pulled away, clearing their throats as they separated. Drake walked up to Riley, giving her a hug, as Liam approached Maxwell and shook his hand.

“Let’s sit, there’s a lot to go over.” Liam signaled toward the couch as he approached Riley, wrapping an arm around her waist.

Riley gave Liam a reassuring look. “Should we get Bastien in here as well? He should be a part of this.” She suggested.

“Absolutely. You sit, love. I’ll go get him.” Liam walked her to the couch and kissed the top of her head as she sat, before going back to the front door to retrieve Bastien.

Once everyone was there, Riley looked to Liam for the next move. She wasn’t sure which of them would take the lead on this conversation, not knowing if Liam would be able to get through the parts of the story that he had learned the night before. He took her hand in his and nodded at her as a signal to begin the conversation.

“Ok, so we have a new threat. Well, an old threat, but in a new and soul crushing package.” She paused for a moment and looked around the room. Liam and Drake were fully filled in, Bastien was partially aware of the situation, and Maxwell was completely in the dark. The best thing to do would be to start at the beginning.

With that, Riley explained everything, her conversation with Eirik at Applewood, the meeting in Portavira, and of course everything that had happened during her Valtoria trip. She made sure to grip Liam’s hand a little tighter when she got to the part about Eleanor, when Drake also reached over and placed a comforting hand on his friend’s back. The news of Eleanor and Jackson’s involvement, on top of Eleanor not being quite as dead as everyone thought, obviously, a total shock to those in the room hearing it for the first time. Maxwell’s jaw dropped, his hand quickly moving to cover it as tears welled up in his eyes. For the first time in his life, Maxwell was speechless.

Riley looked over to Bastien, who was standing by Drake’s chair. She was surprised by the emotion etched in his typically stoic face. Then she realized, she had been so worried about everyone else, that she didn’t consider how difficult this news may be for Bastien. Jackson Walker had taken a young, fresh-faced Bastien under his wing when he first joined the King’s guard, and invited him into his family. Bastien had been alone most of his life, so becoming an unofficial Walker gave him a sense of belonging and home that he hadn’t felt since he was a little boy. He had known Jackson was a member of the Via Imperii, he was trying to recruit Bastien prior to his death, but the way Jackson talked about it didn’t line up with what he had learned in the last couple of weeks. Suddenly it all made sense, the information he was getting was based off of the original plan that Jackson had been working on. If he was killed for going against them, it would explain why they stopped pursuing Bastien after his death. He always found something a little suspicious about Jackson’s death, this just confirmed it, and made him want to exact his revenge for the man that had given him everything.

The room was silent as everyone continued to process the information. Maxwell was the first to speak up. “You guys, I don’t even know what to say. I mean my dad was bad news, but this is a whole other level.” He looked at Liam, “I mean, a coma is one thing, but to pretend to actually be dead? And then to find out you have a brother?!”

“Thank you Maxwell. It has been a...trying few hours to say the least.” Liam squeezed Riley’s hand a little tighter to keep himself calm. “But that is why you are here. We need to work together to remove them once and for all.”

“So, what do we do?” Drake chimed in.

“That’s what we need to figure out. How do you take down a group that nobody even knows exists?” Riley looked around the room, hoping one of the men might have a suggestion.

Bastien cleared his throat to get the room’s attention. “Perhaps we start by getting some form of hard evidence against them. Something tangible, and undeniable.”

“Yea, we could release it publicly. If everyone knows they exist, and what they’re up to, they won’t have any power.” Maxwell agreed.

Riley nodded. “Ok, that could work. How do we do that? I mean, I’m a member or whatever, but I don’t think you can just borrow membership records, or like walk in taking pictures.”

‘We could send you in with a hidden camera or recorder of some kind.” Liam suggested. “I don’t want to get Amalas involved, we can’t be certain where her loyalties lie, but Olivia could be of help to us on that front.”

Drake interjected, skepticism in his tone. “Yea, but can we trust her? Her family isn’t really known for their loyalty to the crown.”

Liam stood from his seat. “Historically, you are correct Drake. The Nevrakis family has never been particularly with their standing within the monarchy, but I think that Olivia has more than proven herself. Not only in her loyalty to the crown, but in her loyalty to me personally.”

“Yea Drake, she’s had our backs through everything.” Riley also stood, linking her arm with Liam’s in a show of support. “Besides, in the few conversations I’ve had with these people, they don’t speak too highly of the Nevrakis line, they don’t seem like they would have much interest in bringing her onboard.”

“Alright, let’s get her involved.” Drake ran a hand through his hair, still not fully convinced, but knowing he was outnumbered.

“Great. Liam, you and Drake should work with Olivia to get it set up. I’ll talk to Mara and see when I will be meeting with them next, so that we know our timeline.” Riley turned to Bastien, “Bastien, since Hana is in Shanghai, I guess you’ll be taking her place in this mission.”

“Of course, your majesty. Should we make our way to the boutique so I can assist you in finding something to wear?”

Everyone stared blankly at Bastien, the corners of Riley’s mouth slowly turned upward. “Bastien, did you just make a joke?”

“Yes your majesty, I know you all tend to try to add a little levity to situations such as these.”

“Correction…” Maxwell stood up and positioned himself in front of Bastien, “I add levity. I’m the funny one, not Hana. Know your role.”

“My apologies, Lord Beaumont.” Bastien bowed out of respect, but mostly to hide the grin that started to spread across his face.

As the group continued to chat, there was a knock at the door. Soon after, Eleanor came barrelling into the room. “Mommy, daddy, I’m home!” She ran straight for her parents who knelt down to greet her.

“Hello princess, we missed you so much.” Liam wrapped Eleanor in a hug.

As he held his daughter, Riley noticed Thomas entering the room. She stood, giving Drake, Maxwell, and Batien a concerned look. This would be the first time Liam would be face to face with him, knowing who he was.

Bastien rushed over to him, trying to usher him out of the room before Liam noticed. Just as he reached Thomas, the King stood up and looked directly at Thomas, his eyes going wide at the sight of his brother. He quickly shook his head and put his most stoic expression in place. Everyone exchanged worried glances. Riley turned to Liam and linked her hand with his, giving it a gentle squeeze to reassure him that he wasn’t alone.

“Your majesties, Eleanor did wonderfully today. I was very impressed with how much she learned today.” Thomas bowed as he addressed the King and Queen.

Liam gripped Riley’s hand tightly, as if he were falling from a building and she was the ledge preventing him from plummeting to his death. He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t manage to get any words out. It didn’t matter, even if he could find his voice, he had no idea what he would say.

“Thank you Thomas, that will be all for today.” Riley jumped in to break the silence.

Thomas bowed and exited the room. Bastien gave the group a sad smile before bowing and following him out of the room.

“Hey Eleanor, weren’t you telling me about a new dress you were excited about? Want to do a fashion show for Uncle Max?” Maxwell held his hand out to Eleanor, knowing that he needed to give Liam a moment.

“Fashion show! Fashion show!” Eleanor grabbed Maxwell by the hand and pulled him down the hall. He looked back and nodded at his friends. Riley mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ to him as he rounded the corner.

“Liam?” Riley turned to face Liam, placing a hand on his cheek. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her flush against him, burying his face in her hair. “I know Liam. It’s ok, we’ll get through this.” She peered over his shoulder, giving Drake a sad look.

Drake approached the pair and patted Liam on the shoulder. “For what it’s worth, you handled it better than I would have.”

Liam pulled himself from Riley’s arms, and scrubbed his hand over his face, letting out a deep sigh. “Thank you both. That was...difficult.”

“Should we talk to Bastien about having him reassigned?” Riley looked up at her husband.

Liam shook his head. “No, the timing will make it too obvious, they will know you told me. I won’t put you in danger like that.” His face had a slight look of panic.

Riley was reminded of the conversation they had much earlier that morning, and Liam expressing his fear of losing her. She knew she had to do something to bring him back from that place. She gently placed one hand on his cheek and drew his face down to hers. As their foreheads met, she whispered “I’m right here. Always.” Before placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

“All we can do right now is get to work so that we can put all this behind us. We’ll deal with Thomas, and everyone else, after that.” The sound of Drake’s voice brought Riley and Liam out of the moment.

Liam cleared his throat before turning to address his friend. “Right. Olivia will be here in a couple of days for the council meeting. We will speak with her then.”

Drake nodded. “I’ll go grab Maxwell and we’ll get out of your hair.” He approached Liam and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll reach out if you need me?”

“I should be asking you that question.” Liam arched an eyebrow in response. “One of us is significantly more forthcoming with our emotions than the other.”

“Touché.” Drake laughed as he clapped Liam on the shoulder.

Maxwell and Drake said their goodbyes, and headed out leaving the royal family to themselves. They had a big fight ahead of them, but in this moment, Riley and Liam just wanted to be a family. Not a King and Queen with the heir, not warriors preparing for battle, a husband and wife spending time with their daughter.

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Liam x Riley: @jared2612

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mintmatcha · 3 years

Text

9 months, 28 days

Chapter 3 of 10 Months

CW: discussions of death

A/N: this is the end of the beginning! im not sure exactly how long this stories going to be but yolo

The cafe is almost empty, just like always. That’s why they loved this place so much as kids. No one they knew was ever here, sitting in the mothball scented booths- only the occasional elderly couple who didn’t give a fuck that the place hadn’t updated it’s decor since 1995. Clouds rolled in overnight, painting the town a somber grey. Mattsun feels like it should match his mood, but it doesn’t. He’s not sad, he just… is. There’s this weird, turbulent void in his chest where his despair should lie.

Hanamaki’s in the corner when he arrives, nestled into the booth with a mug. He watches the rain trickle down the window, tracing the paths of the drops with his finger tips. It’s very ‘white girl protagonist’ Mattsun decides. Like he’s the star of a Hallmark movie. The void in his chest pulses and he swears, just for a flash, it was warm.

“Hanamaki.” Mattsun slides in across from him.

“Well, lookie here at the big boy in his big boy suit.” Hanamaki taps his nails against the glass, not even looking at his friend. “Did your mom help you pick that out?”

“This is technically a business meeting, so I had to wear something nice.” he explains. “Or else my boss is going to think I’m just screwing around.”

That’s what it feels like. It feels like work. He’s just putting all of this into his little box, so he can file it away in the storage files of his mind. He’ll process it later, when the moment’s right.

Or never.

Makki tents his fingers together, like he’s some sort of super villain. He’s always had this casual, uncaring air about him, but it seems to have developed further into a chaotic mess. “Ah, so you’ve decided to plan my fun-eral.”

The black haired man sighs. “Only if you stop calling it that.”

The waitress wanders up, expecting orders in her typical, unfriendly way. If he didn’t know better, he’d assume it was the same woman from years ago, still equally sick of her job.

Neither of the men look at the menu. Mattsun orders a cheeseburger omelette and a coffee with six sugars, the same horrible thing he’s been getting since high school. ‘The American Experience’, they called it. Makki orders plain toast, notably not the same thing he’s been getting since high school.

“You should eat more,” Mattsun says, “You’re too thin.”

“Who are you? My mom?” he takes a long swip from his mug,

“If I was, I wouldn’t be-” Mattsun stops himself, much to Makki’s delight.

“Oh, please make a dead mom joke. Please.” Makki’s on the edge of his seat, leaning halfway across the table, “My mom would have loved you making a joke about her.”

Mattsun slinks down so far that his knees pump against the booth across from him. “That’s… yeah, you’re right. She would have loved it.”

Mattsun wants to say he misses her, but it doesn't seem fair. To miss Hanamaki Hana would be to miss Hanamaki Takahiro, and he certainly wasn’t allowed to miss Hiro.

Makki looks exactly like his father. He's there in the too thin nose, the gap between his canines and molars, and the clubbed way their fingernails grew.

but his mom's in his idiosyncrasies. She's in the laughter, the winks, the tiny things that make Takahiro himself. Truly a mama's boy, Makki taps his cup against his front teeth the same way she did. It's their thinking face.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Mattsun regains control. His notebook and reading materials jut out against his stomach from their spot in his coat.

“Are you really sick?” It surprises both of them. Maybe it was the thought sitting at the top of his head, maybe he meant to say it. All of this just feels too sudden, too random, Mattsun just can’t quiet his doubts.

This is why the time apart was good; Makki made him do stupid things, made his brain stop working.

“I- uh. Yeah.” Makki's face doesn't change, but his shoulders fall. The tension in his body deflates as he goes back to looking out the window. "You're such a dick."

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You really think I’d lie about all of this?” he laughs, but it's flat, "To do what? To crawl back into your life?"

"That's not what-"

"Newsflash, asshole- I've been doing great without you.” the mug slams against the table, “I've been really, truly, wonderfully happy since-"

The other man picks up one of the pieces of toast and examines it, before carefully ripping the crust off. It’s a delicate procedure, carefully peeling off the edge on one, long piece. Makki opens his mouth to continue, then closes it with a low, thoughtful hum as he rolls the crust into a little ball.

"Makki." Mattsun holds up a finger, pausing the conversation for a moment as the waitress approaches. They sit in silence, mumbling only a quiet thank you as she

drops off the plates. She doesn't seem to notice the tension in the air or if she does, she doesn't care. She pours the coffee carefully, counts out the sugar packets like she's rationing them. As soon as she turns, he sighs and curls his hand into a tight fist, holding it in the air for a second before letting it fall. "Continue."

“This was a dumb idea. Forget I even asked you to do this.” he tosses the bread ball into his mouth and chews, “I’m just gonna go.” Standing suddenly, he grabs his coat from the booth beside him.

This would be the third time he let Makki leave and, according to the time left, the last. Life is fickle, an unpredictable lace pattern made by the people in your life coming and going. Mattsun was used to dealing with the final goodbyes and usually found comfort in it. No more chapters to write, all secrets buried and forgotten- truly, nothing left but what you can see in rose colored glasses.

And yet some part of him- the stupid part, the crazy part, the self loathing part- panics at the thought of seeing this end.

"I know you're better without me." Mattsun sighs, "But I want to help you, if you'll still let me."

“Stop.” Mattsun’s heart pounds so hard, dancing across his skin, that he can barely recognize he’s touching Makki, holding his wrist down against the table. “Sit. Eat."

Makki just raises a brow.

Reluctantly, he complies, but not before he tugs his hand out of his friend's grasp, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a sneer. A boundary has been set- no touching.

"I'll let you." he turns his attention back to the mangled food on his plate, "But only because I want to finish my toast."

"We good?" They are not, but Mattsun prays for a lie.

"For now. But watch yourself." It's a win, albeit a half hearted one. Mattsun pulls a tiny notebook from an inner pocket of his coat and flips through the pages until he reaches the last page; it's the farthest out thing he's planning, of course. It’s marked ‘The Hanamaki Service.’

They let the silence sit between them as they pick at what’s in front of them. The terrain of this relationship is uneven, constantly changing. It’s like hiking a mountain in the winter, Mattsun decides, one wrong move, one noise too loud, and the whole thing will come crashing down,

Why does he even care?

Makki’s happy without him, he’s fine without Makki.

He shouldn’t care, and yet he stays.

The black haired man stabs a hunk of egg and watches the half melted cheese try to stretch. “So, to put it all simply: what our home does for you is the basics: Legal procurement, transportation, preparation, and disposition- you don't have to worry about any of it. We also offer a location for interment and service, depending on the type of service you require, of course."

"Location?"

Mattsun takes a bite. "For the service and for you to, um, rest."

"You mean rot."

Maybe eating wasn’t the right choice for this conversation. The texture of egg now feels wrong in his mouth.

"Don't say it like that." The preservatives slow that down, so the rot won't happen for a long time, he brain reminds him. It doesn't help.

"I already have those places picked out though." Mattsun waits for a joke to follow, but he’s surprised when his friend says, "Bury me near my mom and hold the service here."

"Here?" Mattsun asks, “There’s nicer places.”

"Save a dying business with a dead guy. It's irony."

"Okay, well. That's-" he sighs and scribbles into his notebook. This wasn’t going to be a traditional job, was it? "At least the catering is done then."

"Perfect." Makki pushes away his empty plate, "I'm a natural at this. You should hire me.”

"Long term positions only, sorry." It slips out before Mattsun can censor himself, but Makki just snorts into his tea.

It’s frustrating that they click together so well, especially because nothing’s been resolved between them. One minute everything threatens to break, the next they can sit here and joke with each other. The issues sit there, waiting in the corner of the room, cocked and ready to fire. If they just didn’t look, maybe it wouldn’t hurt when it finally attacked.

If they didn’t look, maybe they can pretend nothing happened.

Mattsun reminds himself that he doesn’t care. There's still that blank space inside him.

“Next step would be flowers.”

It’s not. They should discuss embalming versus cremation, but the words stick to his throat. He’s asked so many times before, stared forward as loved ones debated what to do without a care in the world. This time shouldn’t be different.

“I’ll think about it. Can’t say I know too many flowers off the top of my head.” Makki digs his phone from his front pocket and scrolls, looking through everything before tapping out a quick question. There's a twitch of his brow, barely furrow, but it's gone in a flash. Before Mattsun can even ask, Makki's gathered his coat in his hands. “Gotta go.”

“What? We just started-” The whiplash is what hurts. Just as Mattsun feels like he's found his footing, it's gone again, slipping out from under him. This must be some level of hell

"Something came up." he shrugs, "Don't worry about it."

"I won't."

"You're such an asshole." he says, "You're supposed to at least pretend to care."

Yeah, he knows. That's how life works. But he can't just pretend; it's a gateway to actually feeling.

"I'll try." Mattsun offers, "It was nice to see you."

Makki rolls his left shoulder over and over again, like he's trying to work out a kink. "Was it? Was it really?"

"Kind of."

"Thanks," there's a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "We'll do this again."

And like that, with no formal goodbye, he just starts to leave. Mattsun wants to protest, but he’s grateful. He hadn’t realized how tense he had been, how hard he'd been digging his fingers into his thigh. The void in his stomach somehow feels smaller and larger all at once. He kind of wishes it would just swallow him up and this would all be done with.

It's so easy not to care.

“Oh, and Mattsun?” Makki pauses by the door and picks out a familiar black umbrella that was leaning against the doorframe. He twirls in in his fingers like a baton before pressing the button and letting it unfold. It's bad luck to open an umbrella inside. “Thanks for breakfast.”

Mattsun just looks down at the table. His food is barely touched but he doesn't plan to eat anymore. With his heart in his throat for no good reason, he feels nauseous. Despite himself, he wonders if Makki still smells like cedar aftershave and the discount brand laundry detergent.

“That fucker didn’t pay.”

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