#also wow surprised i was able to complete a drawing finally

[moonavem]

[shinysamurott9]

I finished Xenoblade X again today and... wow.

OK so, I played Xenoblade X for the first time last year in a marathon of Xenoblade 1, X, and 2, and honestly, compared to 1 & 2, I didn't enjoy it as much. It was the only one I didn't really know much about going in. I felt like it had a lot of good parts, but I hadn't any idea what I was doing because the game has literally no tutorials and I ended up stumbling through the game when I wasn't able to use my Skell, so I just didn't have as much fun with it compared to the trilogy.

However, after finishing Xenogears and the Xenosaga Trilogy, I thought it would be a good idea to give X another shot as a nice way to bookend playing the Xeno series, specifically after watching some guides and learning how the combat actually works (Thanks Enel)

And, holy shit. Out of every game I've ever played, this and DMC 3 are the ones I'm most glad I gave a second chance. I genuinely could not stop thinking about this game after I started playing again. Before I stopped pretty much as soon as I beat the final boss, this time I went literally all the way and completed the entire Mira Survey. I'm just gonna take this chance to go in and incoherently go off about about all the stuff I have in my head about this beautiful mess of a game.

Ok so the combat. Overdrive, is a completely balanced mechanic that doesn't allow you to completely take the main game’s difficulty and snap it over your knee like a fucking twig. Except it is. Like, it is honestly comical just how trivial almost everything becomes with the right arts on your build. And if you throw really busted arts like Ghostwalker/Ghost Factory or Blossom Dance into the mix, literally nothing can stand up to you bar the literal endgame superbosses, and a big part of that is just because a lot of them, Telethia in particular, are in positions where you literally can't fight them on foot and realistically survive without a highly specialised build. But with that proper build, that probably takes a lot of grinding, you can still beat them fairly quickly, save for Levael The Terminus, because it's literally in the middle of the ocean. All because of this funny counter gear.

Going along with Overdrive, is the amount of customisation this game offers you. Almost every weapon type offers you at least a couple arts that work really well alongside Overdrive. The build I ended up with at the end was a Knife, Dual Gun combination, mainly because Smooth Recovery, is an amazing art for Overdrive, and Black Butterfly and Full Specs are great compliments for an Ether Build with Executioner as the main Damage Art. Yeah sure I ended up using Ghostwalker/Factory like most Endgame builds, but hey that shit is comically busted, and I absolutely love abusing stuff like that, intentional or otherwise. Plus I do enjoy the idea of my Cross, Coraline, using the arts of Irina and Elma, her immediate superior officers in BLADE. Which actually brings me to,

I was honestly surprised at how much thought I ended up putting into my Cross this time around, but it was fun. Not just deciding on a good look both when creating her and finding what gear she'd wear, but also thinking about how her character woukd respond to the situations and dialogue options presented throughout the game. It's to the point that Coraline's basically become my first OC, depending on how you count Milton the Mythrakid I guess, since he's an interpretation of a character we know exists but we haven't seen or heard about. Either way I definitelywant to do more with Coraline. Probably gonna draw her some more as time goes on to get a better feel for the design as well as drawing her skell too just because.

That actually brings me around to the story. I'll be the first to admit that overall X's story falls short compared to the trilogy andveven Gears and Saga but it still has a lot of solid stuff that really git me thinking, in addition to stuff I only picked up the second time around, something Xeno stories have been fantastic with since the beginning with Gears. Obviously spoilers ahead as I talk some notable stuff in the plot

This moment really stuck out for me after simmering on it for a while. Because this idea that memories and the continuation of a person's consciousness are what make them who they are would continue as a prominent thematic plot point in the following games. Xenoblade 2 emphasises it the most heavily with Blades losing their memories with each reawakening, thus they lose their "contuity of consciousness". It's quite literally the central source of conflict for Blades and is everywhere in the main story and side content with characters like Praxis, Theory and Vess. Xenoblade 3 has this too, albeit as a more subtle background element with the Agnian and Kevesi Soldiers effectively being reset upon death as they are reborn, however there are still cases where things slip through the cracks, most notably with Eunie and Ashera. Yet despite that, Monica asserts to Eunie that whatever her past life was, it wasn't her and she didn't make it, all because soldiers simply don't have that continuity of consciousness.

Thinking about it now X has plenty of thematic ideas that 2 & 3 would go on to pull from. Things like a cycle of death and rebirth, something that Blade and NLA are trying to achieve with finding the Lifehold Core. As Lao puts it, they're the lucky ones who can come back as many times as they want. Lao's arc is particularly well done all things considered. A moment early on that stuck out to me was when they were discussing how Lin got her spot on the Whale as a way to repay her parents who were crucial in getting the ship going in the first place. Lao, whether he shows it or not, would have some misgivings about that, and Elma seemingly picks up on that and is quick to point out Lin's own skill were crucial in her getting her spot and that it wasn't just pure nepotism. It's really interesting to see Elma pick up on Lao's misgivings so early. If we do ever get an X sequel, which I do think and hope we will sooner or later, I'll be very curious to see where Lao's character goes from here. Speaking of characters who I really want to learn more about,

Elma is a really interesting character honestly despite the many unanswered questions surrounding her, it just has me more intrigued to learn more about her. The question of what her species and planet are like is one i really want to see explored someday. Funnily enough, 2 actually gave us a breadcrumb of that. Elma has a line when receiving a Seafood pouch item, one of her favourite categories, where she expresses fascination with the concept. "Making meals out of marine lifeforms, fascinating" which I've always taken as her species just straight up not having a concept of seafood. Idk why, it's such a minor inconsequential detail that isn't even from X but I always found that super interesting. Her designs are also two of my favourites in the Xeno series, especially dince they double as subtle references to Kos-Mos and T-Elos. I think I lean a little more towards Alien Elma though, something about the crystal hair is really cool to me.

A few other Miscellaneous things I can think of:

The sidequests are fantastic. While many are a little tedious, they do a really good job of building the world and fleshing out the natures and cultures of the different alien species that come to inhabit NLA.

The Affinity Missions go hand in hand with this, they do a great job of fleshing out all the different party members all the while giving you an avenue to learn their unique abilities. Most of those party members are also really well developed abd mostly compelling characters. Even the most if the ones who seem like assholes at first, like Boze or HB, do get better as their affinity missions progress. They clearly knew it was a great concept as it came back in 2 & 3 with the Blade Quests and Hero + Ascension Quests.

The ost is fucking incredible, I've been adding X music to my personal playlist over the course of my playthrough because there's so much good stuff in it. It's honestly criminal how much you end up missing because the Overdrive and Flight themes override 90% of them.

Skells are incredibly cool and a brilliant way to bring in the concept of mech combat systems from the previous Xeno games.

Phew, I think that's everything I've had to say. I've called out many of this game's flaws in other places and most of that I do still stand by. The game is in desperate need of an actual tutorial and QoL improvements. The game's draw distance can be quite frustrating at times trying to find specific things or characters and getting certain materials can be a really annoying grind, (Neinail Materials), but if you can put up with that there is a hell of a game there. I don't know if I'd consider it better than the trilogy, just because it has more complete stories, but it's quite close.

Overall I'm so happy I gave X a second shot and now I'll definitely be there waiting for a port or sequel. It's easily the most underrated game I've ever played. I'm confident it'll happen at some point but either way I'l likely have more Xeno stuff to play in the meantime if whatever's next is Xenoblade 4.

My reaction to this game.

[it-happened-one-fic]

A Lifelong Love

Author Notes: I wanted to write Idia but wow, is he hard. I actually wrote this while listening to Kenny Rogers "Lady" but it really doesn't fit the song very well and is also gender-neutral. This fic takes place briefly after the Ghost Marriage event.

Type: Comfort/fluff/romance hinted

Word Count: 1663

I blinked up at the Idia who was standing in the middle of the cafeteria dressed to the nines. Of course, he was supposed to have filled the role of groom in the ghostly wedding that had just taken place, but still. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him look like this.

He twitched, looking up at me from where he stood beside the now abandoned altar that had been made especially for the wedding, “Wh- What are you staring at?”

I blinked in quiet surprise at his stuttered question before vaguely gesturing to his current clothes. I could only wonder as to how the ghosts had gotten him into his outfit. He looked down and made a rather moody expression “Is my outfit that strange?”

His question was rhetorical, logically I realized that. But I found myself answering him nonetheless and drawing his attention back to me, “Well… Yeah. It’s not everyday I see someone dressed up as a groom.” Much less one quite so pretty….

I don’t know how I’d missed it till now but Idia was quite attractive. One of the prettier boys at this school of handsome young men even. 

My explanation for my stare did little to calm him though. In fact it just caused him to make a desperate shooing motion, “I’m not on exhibition y’know! Shoo, leave!” 

I did not go ‘shoo’ though. Instead I stood and stared some more as his hair changed from a pale glowing blue to a radiant pink color. A pink that matched the flushed color of his face quite well.

I felt myself slowly starting to grin at his embarrassment, but rather than teasing him I merely shook my head, “Actually I need to clean this place up. Crowley’ll bug me endlessly if I don't and tomorrow it’ll be needed.” 

His hands, that had already been tangled in his long hair, seemed to clench the glowing strands tighter at the revelation that I was not, in fact, leaving. He was mumbling something incomprehensible to himself as I started moving about the room. Ignoring him as I collected the pale flowers that had been thrown upon Eliza’s appearance in the room.

 It was almost a shame. If one had merely been watching and hadn’t known about how she’d kidnapped her groom it would have been a lovely wedding. Sure, she’d gotten married anyway and Chubby and her were a cute couple but….

 Well, to be perfectly blunt Idia was the better looking groom. He looked like he’d stepped out of some period romance. Were I bit more of a romantic I might have been able to imagine a touching but sad story about a ghost and human romance that could never be.

Such daydreaming would have to be left to Rook though. After all, I’d been so focused on the mission to save Idia I’d only thought of such things now. 

To be fair, Chubby and Eliza getting their happy ending was rather nice. Romantic even, if I really wanted to think about it. Eliza had finally got her happily-ever-after. Even if it had been a long road to get there.

I glanced over to see Idia staring, almost forlornly, at the altar. He’d been so excited moments ago when his unsolicited wedding had been canceled that it was odd to see him quite so down now. Rook had said earlier that Idia usually exuded a lonely beauty but right now…. 

Right now he looked far lonelier than I’d ever seen him. Perhaps the botched wedding had more of an effect on him than he’d let on.

I drifted closer to him, cautiously getting closer while staying silent so I wouldn’t startle him. But my approach didn’t go unnoticed as he soon revealed by looking up at me, “What?”

 His flat tone startled me. It didn’t tremble like it did when he was anxious nor was it the speedy talking that outed him when he got excited. Additionally, it was completely at odds with his previously flustered state. Gone was the Idia I knew. Replaced by someone who seemed distinctly apathetic to the point he’d never be embarrassed to the point of trying to shoo someone away.

 I shifted slightly, setting the flowers on a nearby table before turning to look at him, “Are you okay?”

He scoffed slightly, causing me to raise my eyebrows, but he didn’t answer. He just looked away, back towards the pale wedding decorations. I frowned at his uncharacteristic behavior, “Idia, I thought you were going to head back to your room. Why are you still here?”

Instead of answering my question he responded with a dry sounding question of his own, “Aren’t people with strong beliefs scary?”

I waited for him to continue but he never did, so I responded with no small amount of confusion, “Are you saying you don’t have any strong beliefs?” 

He let out something that sounded distinctly like a snort before he turned with a grin that I could best describe as villainous, “I can’t swear to something that doesn’t exist like eternal love.”

I stilled, not entirely sure what was going on but feeling like I’d stumbled across an unmarked landmine. He continued though, explaining his previous statement nonchalantly with a mocking grin, “Because I’m a sincere person.” 

What did that even mean? Was he trying to imply that I, Eliza, or everyone in the school outside of him wasn’t sincere? 

I leaned back, propping myself against the table as I puzzled about his words. They didn’t seem quite accurate. After all, I could think of one person whom I was pretty sure Idia would love for eternity.

“What about Ortho?” He froze at my question and I let it hang in the air, challenging him to deny it. 

Seconds ticked past like the ticking of a bomb as he stared at me before at last responding, “What?”

“Don’t you love Ortho and think that you’ll continue to love him for eternity?” To my surprise he relaxed at my words and his smile returned. 

This time it wasn’t as mocking of a grin, but rather halfway amused as he answered me, “That’s different though isn’t it?”

I straightened from my propped position and started to walk towards him determinedly, “How? It’s still love. You love Ortho and you will continue to love him, right?” He looked down at me, not backing away despite the fact I now stood directly in front of him.

In fact, he met my gaze unflinchingly, something that was also out of character for him. “That’s Storge. Familial love. She wasn’t talking about that kind of love.” 

I frowned at his explanation, distantly recalling the Greek types of love. A different name for each different type of love. That was certainly one way to view it. 

As for who the ‘she’ he was talking about was, well, I could only assume he meant Eliza. After all, she had been the one talking all but incessantly of love.

I tilted my head at him, “I don’t think eternal love was what Eliza was talking about either. She wanted something more like….” I fumbled briefly, fighting to recall the name to mind before I could continue, “More like Eros. A passionate, romantic love.”

He nodded, acquiescing to and confirming my statement with the simple motion. I frowned again, still confused by his odd behavior but not sure how to question it or him. 

Because I understood to a degree. Eternal love was something that was hard to believe in. How could you ever love someone all of the time? Even if they were someone like Ace described…. Someone you could laugh and cry with while also relying on them. You still wouldn’t love them all of the time. 

Would you? 

There would surely be times where you would disagree, argue, and fight with one another. But you could love someone even in the midst of a disagreement. So what did Idia mean?

I looked back up at him, “Then what do you think does exist? Since you’re a sincere person, what kind of love do you think would exist in the marriage you would want?” He had the good graces to look taken aback by my question.

And it was an odd question for me to ask but I genuinely wanted to know his answer. After all, he was the one who brought this up.

“I would want…” He trailed off, looking down at me silently as if I somehow held the answer to the very question I’d asked him. After a brief moment he continued, seemingly finding an answer by holding eye contact with me, “Someone who I would always want near me... That I would want to be next to me.” 

He tilted his head, amber colored eyes still holding mine in a way that made me feel vaguely captive, like I couldn’t look away. I suppose it was how a creature  that was encased in amber felt. He continued, unconcerned or unknowing of the strange trapped feeling he caused, “Someone I would be willing to wait for. Someone who is real and not some person I made up in my dreams.”

He looked down, at last breaking eye contact and I let out a breath that I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. But then I heard him, his tone as solemn as ever, “I’d want to marry the love of my life.” I found myself looking back towards him, surprised at his honest-sounding words.

He shook his head slightly, “I can’t vow to love someone for eternity but…” He looked back up, eyes meeting mine once more but when he spoke his voice was softer, as was his gaze.

 It didn’t feel as intense this time, I wasn’t being forced to maintain eye contact and I wasn’t captive. But there was something different in his expression now. Something I hadn’t ever seen before, “But I can vow to love someone for my entire life.”

[hideyseek]

5, 9, 12!

crab!! hi hi hi hi hi hiiiii~! ty for quastions :3

from fanfic asks for the new year

5. Which WIP is first on your list to complete this year? Will you post a snippet?

aha, well. technically the first is mini heist!au but none of it is written that is in the shape of the final thing that i haven't already posted on here so i'm gonna cheat and say uh. wow huh okay then i kind of have no idea. ah! maybe my arthurcobb fic then! cos it sure won't be narrative!fic, lol!

here is a snippet from the current draft which is uhh three and a half years old (by which i mostly mean to say, there are a couple things in here i would write differently now.):

Arthur brings his coffee up to the counter where Dom has already deposited his onion rings and says, “Excuse me, can I purchase a — a temporary phone?” If he doesn't call it a burner maybe he will come off as more the kind of person he actually is. The cashier puts up a finger in question and Arthur nods but behind him Dom says firmly, “Two.”  Arthur turns, surprised. “Why — we don’t need two?” They’re traveling together, after all. Arthur’s not about to leave Dom alone, so it’s not like Dom will need his own phone. It’s not like Dom’s super functional, anyway. The three days he’d spent on Arthur’s couch before they read the news and had to leave town extremely suspiciously, he’d really just spent on the couch. “We don’t need two phones, Dom,” Arthur repeats.  “What if we get separated,” Dom points out. “How would we get in contact with each other again? You should have your own phone, too.” Arthur would rather not think about circumstances that would separate them. Dom says, “Arthur,” and it feels pointed. Something like panic hollows Arthur’s chest. Things are already out of control, apparently. Two days into being on the run and apparently Dom can call these shots but he can’t be on the run by himself.

9. Short term goals… what do you hope to complete this week or in January?

ahaha actually, getting this ask made me decide that i'm going to try my absolute best to finish the project i've been calling "mini heist!au" (which ... at this point ... is just an au of heist!au without any heists in it, lmao) this month! i used answering this ask as my bribe for reading through all the existing material and drawing up a revision plan / new fic story structure actually. i'm not sure i'll be able to, i suspect there are 2-4 drafts and i simply do not write that fast (at least one from scratch based on a new outline, possibly a second from scratch, and then a second/third that's just like. content/theme/cadence/character arcs etc revisions. though that might get complex enough to be two drafts). but we'll see! there are still 24 days so at this current moment i am optimistic :3

12. Will you change anything about the way you edit or rewrite this year?

YES I SURE FUCKING WILL. I HAVE BEGUN IT ACTUALLY, mostly i'm continuing to test a thing i tried in december 2023 to see if it still works for projects that aren't the specific situation of the beginning of devotion (so far, yes!) anyway the way that process goes is like this (recipe below):

first, write a terrible draft. some scenes can just be a note of what needs to happen. ideally: expend as little fucking effort on this as possible bc like. almost none of this will stay. just write enough to get the vibes of what you're going for.

second, read through that draft taking notes of what you like or don't like (or, the way i phrase it for myself to make the goal clearer "what feels like it is aligned with my vision for the fic vs what isn't") but most importantly. WHY.

for me doing this second step has 2/2 turned into "here is a rough outline of the story, completely restructured" but also, with no ending (which is fine, i just have to trust that the ending will appear when more of the draft is written).

third, compile those notes on a new draft into a narrative-order outline (linear for me).

fourth, write the new draft.

fifth, try to do step 2 again. but what i found for the beginning of devotion and therefore what i'm to a certain extent expecting, is that i will just have a bunch of Ns/dislikes and then go. ah. because the things i dislike are too granular to require big-picture story structure changes now.

sixth, copy the most recent draft into a new doc. and read through and revise directly on the page. maybe title at some point so that revision stuff is aligned with the mood/tone/content/vibes/whatever of the title. and maybe come up with initial tags and a summary here also to make sure the vibes are all aligned. hopefully the content of the ending will become clear at this point and you'll draft that for the first or second time.

seventh, idk i like to do an out-loud readthrough bc reading cadence is important to me personally. and also i am scared to lose the skill of reading aloud considering i do it about zero times a year other than this.

that's it basically.

[angstama]

god knows you tried | manjiro (mikey) sano

pairing: bonten!mikey x reader 

genre: angst

warnings: heartbreak, attempt suicide(?), original characters/manga plot (pls do not read if you haven’t read the manga D: ), mentions of religion, implied sex (no smut ok!)

summary: god knows you tried your best. if only mikey knew how hard you’re trying too then perhaps this love wouldn’t hurt as much as you thought. 

 words: 1823 words 

 a/n: i think this sucks but... i hope you enjoy it! <3

god knows you tried.

you watched the ex-toman boys eagerly catching up with takemichi quietly, hands resting against your chin as you took in the rare sight in front of you with a sad smile etched on your lips. this was the happy ending that mikey had sacrificed for everyone but himself. 

“a penny for your thoughts?” mitsuya asks, plopping down next you on to the stone steps. that’s right, it’s june 19th 2018, toman’s formation day anniversary and everyone had gathered around to re-open the time capsule from twelve years ago. “hm? nothing much. just missing a particular someone.” you hummed, dragging your fingers across the ground to draw a heart. mitsuya nods understandingly, knowing not to pry any deeper anymore and for that, you’re thankful. 

crouching down, you hesitantly picked up the the blue coloured envelope you left behind twelve years ago. unsure if you’d wanna read the contents of the letter your naive self written back then. with a deep breath, you slipped open the cover. revealing a photo of candid photo of you and mikey leaning on each other asleep with your mouths wide open taken by emma. 

dearest y/n, 

i wonder what you’re doing right now? 

are you perhaps finally studying in film? 

has that idiot manjiro finally proposed to you?

 or are you the one who proposed to him? 

“y/n, you’ll be with me for a long time right?” mikey asked, staring at the very sky that you both loved oh so very much with your hands intertwined. having grown up with each other since young had pretty much given you both the illusion that the two of you will always be a part of each other’s world. and you hoped with every inch of your heart that mikey wants it to be that way forever. “of course. you’re my heaven and home mikey. i wouldn’t go anywhere else without you by my side.” you squeezed his hand in assurance, knowing that at this very moment, mikey was at his most truthful and vulnerable self with you. 

whatever it is, i hope that you’re living the happy life with him that you’ve been dreaming of. 

signing off, 

toman’s honorary member, y/n l/n. 

everyone was silent. even hakkai who had been making fun of everyone’s letter kept quiet. the boys knew how much you loved and you still love mikey. each opting to give you the concerned and sympathetic look. you could feel you heart breaking even more for you knew you weren’t doing anything that you had hoped for back then. 

you felt mitsuya’s comforting hand softly grabbing onto yours. “well that’s depressing,” you chuckled softly, wanting to get rid of the awkward tension in the air as soon as possible. “let’s grab some ramen, i’m starving.” and with that, you let your feet drag you away from the heavy atmosphere with your head hung low. 

perhaps the hurt wouldn't be as painful if you weren’t the only one who knew what kind of path mikey had chosen to go down. you see, when mikey turned his back against all his closest friend, you had the privilege of staying as his only constant thanks to your stubborn nature but even with that, you weren’t enough to keep him away from his dark impulses. mikey chose the path to destruction and the only thing that you could do was watch from the sidelines and be there when he shows up at wee hours of the night to borrow your body. but you didn't mind. it was during these most intimate moments with mikey that you finally get to feel a piece of him again when he spews the words of “i love you” so effortlessly. 

god knows that you tried. 

“mikey those aren’t good for you.” you frowned, snatching the capsule away from his hand seconds before he could flush it down his system. “what the fuck y/n?” the angered male snaps. you felt yourself falling and back colliding against the hard ground. opening your eyes, you see mikey pining you down with nothing but void darkness in his eyes. “i’ll fucking kill you if you do it again.” mikey taunts, he was serious and you know it. 

“then kill me mikey.” the words slipped out of your tongue instantly. you were tired. tired of trying. you don't know what else can you possibly do to help mikey anymore. mikey says nothing but got off you. he dusted himself and without sparing you single glance, he showed you his back again, walking out of the door where sanzu was already holding open for him. “get her home.” you heard him say. 

it’s been a week since you guys opened the time capsule. nothing much had happened since then except you’ve been spending more time with hina considering how she’s often over to mitsuya’s studio for gown fitting. you admired and envy her love story with takemichi. but who were you to complain? you were lucky enough that mikey still wanted you around. so it shouldn’t hurt so much when you sae her adorning the beautiful wedding gown that mitsuya had spent months on tailoring. 

you let out a tired yawn, stretching your arms above your head as you finished touching up the last few bits of editing on your laptop. you looked over at the calendar on your table, a pink heart circled over today’s date and smiled. “mitsuya, i’m gonna knock off first okay?” you announced, tidying up your table and reaching out for the bag of the familiar favourite deserts of a certain male. 

mitsuya nods, “thank you for your hard work y/n”. he flashes you a smile, eye slowly trailing to the white plastic bag dangling from your side as you waved goodbye, back facing him and walking away. “you’re going to see him aren't you?” you stopped in your tracks. “i know he never left you. plus you got a bag filled with dorayakis and taiyakis. that’s pretty obvious.” mitsuya chuckles. you always knew mitsuya to be perceptive but it never once occured to you that your best friend who is also your boss would ever catch on to the secret you’ve been hiding for twelve years. 

“how did yo-” 

“be careful y/n.” mitsuya waves you off, going back to whatever he was doing. a fond smile creeps onto your lips as you watched mitsuya working hard. “thank you mitsuya. for everything. really,” you whispered, but loud enough for the dual dyed coloured hair boy to look up again when you walked away. 

you made your way towards the secluded vip section of the club through swarms of body swaying around you until you saw the familiar tall pink haired male standing outside the golden door. 

“hey sanzu,” you greeted, barely audible over the loud booming music. you were about to push the door open when sanzu towers over you immediately, denying you of your entrance. you looked at sanzu in confusion, “it’s me, y/n. i’m here to see mikey.” you said loudly, voice straining to over power the background noise. “ i know. but mikey will not be seeing anyone right now.” he retorts back. 

surely mikey knew that you were visiting tonight right? after all it’s your anniversary date. you tilted your head at sanzu. not fully understanding what he’s saying. to say that you’re feeling absolutely livid would be an understatement right now. you’re too tired, angry and broken hearted to process anything anymore so you exploded. you only wanted to see your boyfriend. was that a very difficult request? 

“sanzu,” you said lowly, eyes staring blankly into his and as if on cue, you brought your knees to his precious manhood before making another high kick at him, bringing him down. it was a technique that mikey had taught you when you were younger and attending martial arts lesson together with baji. god you missed baji so much. 

“y/n because you’re short, you can do this instead.” mikey suggested smugly, kneeing poor baji’s little friend before swinging his legs much more harder than he intended to at baji’s profile when he bent forward. the main point was to get your opponent to lean forward so that your legs could reach high enough to create an impact on their skull. you eyes lit up in excitement, “wow! that’s so cool! let me try it!” you jumped impatiently. turning towards mikey to execute the exact same move. “wait n-! AHH,” mikey’s eyes widened, and before he knew it, you had completely knocked him over. 

that day, as mikey and baji lied down with pain still intact barely moving an inch, shinchiro only gave you a thumbs up and praised you for taking down the invincible mikey. you were the only one who could do that. 

“sanzu, i’ll see my boyfriend as and when i’d like to.” you said curtly, eyeing sending daggers at him lying on the ground before stepping over him to swing the door open, revealing your petite self to the other bonten’s executives and hostess who were staring at you in surprise. 

you don’t see anyone else but your lover who’s currently sitting in the center with two pretty hostess sitting by his side. you don’t hesitate and begun walking  towards him. “get your hands off my man.” you said calmly. there was tension in the air and from the corner of your eyes, you could see the executives slowly getting up to leave as if on cue. 

“aren’t you as stubborn as always,” he raises a brow as you settled down next to him, pouring the bag of dessert on the glass table in front of you. you smile softly, grabbing a packet of taiyaki and handing it to him before grabbing one for yourself too. “happy 14th anniversary mikey.” you mumbled softly before grabbing a bite.  14 years, that was how long you two had been together for. “mhm. happy 14th anniversary y/n.” mikey hums, allowing you lean in close to him and resting your head on his chest. 

you take in the scent of mikey for you knew that this is going to be the last time you’re going to be able to hold mikey close to you. you didn't want this moment to end but you were too tired to continue on and see what's going to happen the next when you go back to just another normal day. you held tightly to the gun you hid in your bag, shutting your eyes tightly. 

“hey mikey,” you called out. you never thought you’d see it again but you saw a flash of endearment in his eyes when you called him. “i love you so much, promise you’ll take care of yourself alright?” you smiled warmly before pulling the gun out of your bag and putting it against your head. 

god knows you tried. 

god knows you did your best and now you’re going home. 

bang!

[slasherboyos]

Different World | Chapter Nine

Word count: 3300+ (adsgf there is a reason for why I split chapter eight)

Date posted: August 6, 2021

Warning: Cursing

“Different World” masterlist: Link

Fanfic Playlist: Link

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Note: A nice chapter, but an important one! Also, there is some dialogue that seems incorrect, but it’s like that for a reason; just giving a heads up just in case! As always, feedback is appreciated!

Marko’s boots stomped down the dirt steps that led into the hotel. The plastic utensils in the Coca-Cola box of Chinese takeout were heard clashing with each other when he jumped down that final ledge.

“Feeding time,” He loudly called, announcing his return with dinner. “Come and get it!” You grumbled as you sat up; you were this close to falling asleep during this small pocket of calm, but, of course, proper sleep continued to elude you. That Walkman you have been thinking about buying was starting to become all the more enticing. In your tired state, you stayed put at the far left side of the couch as Marko distributed the food with a pair of chopsticks in his mouth. Dwayne sat on the other side with Laddie sitting between you two. You put your elbow on the armrest, resting your chin on your palm.

“Tired of me already,” Paul jested, gesturing to the empty spot beside him where you usually sat during meal times. You rolled your eyes and lazily stuck your middle finger at him with the same hand that held your head. David placed himself in his shirt-covered wheelchair. 

“I’m not getting up,” you flippantly grumbled, leaning in further into the armrest. Your strained eyes watered as you yawned. 

“Your grace, the finest of meals,” Marko chirped. You gave Marko a sleepy amused look at his exaggerated bow and horrible attempt at a posh British accent as he handed you a carton with a pair of chopsticks. You propped yourself up and leaned comfortably against the backrest, bringing your legs up to lay on their sides. You opened the flaps, stomach tightened from hunger, mildly excited to see what he brought you. He, indeed, did know what you liked. You offered some to Star, which she declined as per usual, before you dug in, starved without the help of your usual early-evening snack.

David offered some food, a carton of rice, to Michael, which was refused at first. However, through the power of peer pressure, Michael accepted the carton and a clear, plastic fork. While you may not have approved David’s methods, you were glad to see Michael eating something. You chewed your food and swallowed it. You closed your eyes in complete bliss, finally being able to get your food intake for the night. There was a chance that Laddie may not finish all of his food, so you silently plotted to take it when he was full. It would be a pity for that delicious takeout to go to waste, after all. Plus, it would help decrease the amount of food waste amongst you. 

“How are those maggots,” David asked quickly and nonchalantly, which had a very casual tone compared to the substance of his question. The boys laughed and you groaned. You leaned back against the backrest, watching, knowing the direction that this was taking. Of course, they were not going to let Michael enjoy his first meal with them without a little bit of hazing. 

“What,” Michael inquired, not comprehending the bizarre statement he heard. 

“Maggots, Michael. You’re eating maggots. How do they taste?” Paul had no shame in continuing to chuckle. You hid your growing smile behind your hand. Given the countless times that David had pulled this trick on you, it was strange seeing him do it to someone else. 

Michael gave David an incredulous smile before looking down to come face to face with a carton of what you could assume were squirming maggots in his eyes. Almost immediately, Michael dropped the carton and spit out the rice in his mouth and the cave erupted in howling laughter. Even David was almost doubling over with how hard he was laughing. You, much to your shame, also quietly chuckled, trying to stay quiet as if you were not finding this a little entertaining. He was so unsuspecting unlike you. While you knew from the start that they were vampires—though, you did not realize their mind-based abilities at first—Michael was oblivious, so he did not catch on as quickly as you did. Well, he did not catch on at all.

Star did not find this heckling as enjoyable. 

“Leave him alone,” she begged, unhappy with the boys’ treatment of Michael, not that anyone listened to what she had to say. Michael realized that the rice was not a pile of maggots, but just plain old white rice. He looked up before looking back down at the mess, really trying to process that it was just rice. 

“Sorry ‘bout that,” David gave an empty apology and you rolled your eyes. “No hard feelings, huh?” Michael swallowed his pride and answered,

“No.” Wow, this guy really wants to get on David’s good side. Michael was, at least, tame enough to take it in stride, unlike you. While his initial reaction was worse than yours, at least he did not immediately yell out profanities. David stuck his chopsticks in his noodles. 

“Why don’t you try some noodles?” The boys started laughing again. You waited patiently to see what trick David was pulling out of his sleeve. 

“They’re worms,” Michael deadpanned and you exhaled. They had an obsession with squirmy bugs, it seemed. 

“What do you mean they’re worms?” David dug through the carton, playing dumb to Michael’s concerns. 

“You’re still doing this,” you uttered. You sighed, “the joke’s over, guys!” Michael tried to warn him to not eat the so-called worms, but David used the chopsticks to shove more noodles in his mouth. He chewed on them obnoxiously before grinning, content with how he got under Michael’s skin.

“They’re only noodles, Michael.” Michael snatched the carton and looked through it, only to find just noodles. He must have thought he was losing his mind! To your surprise, he did not ask any questions and took it all at face value. You were a little worried about how easily he was absorbing this. 

“You’re an ass, David.” He ignored your insult, which was probably in your best interest. 

“Nice worms,” Dwayne mocked amongst the snickering. You reached over Laddie and swatted Dwayne’s chest with the back of your right hand, which he hissed at, though he was not in any pain from your back-handed attack. “(Y/N) is being mean again,” he tattled on you to nobody in particular. You raised your hands, physically expressing your annoyance.

“Are you tattling on—what are you, a child?”

“That’s enough,” Star asserted, which Paul responded to with, 

“Aw, chill out, girl,” While Star had not liked this from the start, you were drawing the line here. While the prank was harmless, they did not need to be ridiculing Michael this much. 

And you were not a fan of Paul brushing Star off like that.

You picked a small pebble and aimed for him, landing on his neck. “Hey,” he whined, but you could not care less about it.

“You’re all a bunch of asswipes!” You complained, swallowing what you had been chewing. “I am so sorry, Michael.” Michael appreciated your apology, though he was still embarrassed and very confused by what just happened. “They did the same thing to me, you know. Made me think I was eating caterpillars instead of french fries. And then Paul ate the fries that I dropped.” You threw your head back to get more food in your mouth as Paul chuckled, still clearly proud of himself for getting that reaction out of you when he had picked up the soiled french fry and popped it in his mouth. “They still pull shit like this with me all the time.” 

Your gaze had drifted to Paul, who had his hand in the carton. Your warm smile—which appeared from reminiscing—dropped and your expression morphed into a disgusted one. You knew for sure that he did not wash his hands before deciding to use one as an eating utensil. With a disappointed sigh, you pinched between your eyebrows, exasperated, and expressed,

“Are you kidding—are you eating Chinese takeout with your bare hands?” He put the carton to his mouth as if he was drinking out of a cup.

“Why am I in trouble?” He spoke with a mouth full of fried rice and gestured to Dwayne, who was sitting beside you. Dwayne, now the one being put on the spot, froze, caught red-handed with his hand in his carton, and picked up some noodles. You scrunched up your nose and furrowed your brow. How you did not notice that happening right beside you was a mystery.

“Really? I expected this from Paul—”

“This is bullying!”

“—but not you!” As if to spite you, Dwayne picked up some of his noodles and shoved it into his mouth with a cheeky smile. “Marko is using a pair of chopsticks! Marko! And he’s...” You vaguely gestured to him. “Marko!”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Marko yapped. You pointed at him accusingly. 

“You know exactly what that means.” You were alluding to how much of an instinctual person he was. You were surprised with how he did not immediately stick his hand in his food without taking off his gloves when he opened his carton. “Michael, you know what he did the first night I was here?” Michael shook his head, almost smiling at the sight of you putting them in their place. “He threw a pigeon at me. A pigeon!” Everyone, including you, laughed at the fond memory, Marko being the loudest as he caught himself by putting a hand on his knee. When David calmed down, recalling the shocked expression you had when the bird was tossed at the back of your skull, he gave you a seemingly genuine smile. Seemingly.

You intentionally tried to make him feel more comfortable with your story of the pigeon attack. There was a part of you that did not like how he was to become a vampire against his will. While you could not do anything to change that, you could at least be a friend and hold out an olive branch.

Besides Star, Michael noticed how you were showing legitimate consideration towards him while the boys were messing with him with no restraints. You, while taking part in all of this heckling, had the decency to apologize and had your limits. He was still intimidated by your presence but realized that you may not be as menacing as you may appear. In contrast to your piercing stare, your smile lit up the room and you were a fun person to be around.

Of course, he was unaware as to just how doomed to stay with this group of misfits he was. He may have to deal with this taunting for the rest of eternity.

You picked up another pebble. It hit Marko's left temple and somehow landed in his food.

“Get fucked, pigeon-thrower,” you slandered.

“Ow! Dwayne’s right, you are bein’ a bitch!” 

“Oh, you’ll get over it.” You picked up a third small rock and leaned forward to get a clearer shot. You harshly threw it onto Dwayne's bare chest. 

“What was that for,” he complained, mouth full of noodles. 

“Talkin’ shit about me.” 

“I never called you a bitch!” Okay, maybe it was fun just being a general nuisance towards them, but that was not going to be something you said out loud. To keep things even between them all, you picked up one more for David. As you aimed, he put up a finger to make you pause. 

“Do you really want to do that,” he challenged. Unluckily for him, you found entertainment in doing things out of spite. However, Unluckily for you, he caught the rock with a gloved hand and threw it back at you with force. You laughed with a mild shriek as you tried to shield yourself, but it hit your left shoulder. 

“Ow,” you exclaimed and rubbed the ambushed area of your arm.

“You’ll get over it,” he mocked, repeating what you had said to Marko. 

“You see what I have to deal with, Michael,” you joked. Paul threw the remaining fried rice in his carton at you. “Don’t throw food, dipshit! You'll get it in the cushions!”

“It’s maggots, (Y/N),” Paul teased. You took hold of a small display pillow, one that you have been sleeping with, and threw it at Paul. Too bad you missed. Paul mockingly said, 

“Try again!”

David was lost in thought before he called out to Marko and whispered something in his ear as the excitement died down, the tone of the night changing drastically as silence engulfed the cave. You could decipher what was said. Marko nodded enthusiastically, giving a quick once-over towards everyone, before leaving and coming back with an ornate wine bottle. 

Star became visibly concerned, quickly making her way to Michael’s side. Her reaction was enough for you to mirror that worry. There was no way they were going to turn him tonight, right? Getting Michael drunk to make the process easier hardly seems like the best strategy, if that was what they were doing. Plus, he did not seem like a wine guy.

David, with as much flair as he could muster, popped the cork and drank from the bottle. He opened his eyes, his gaze on Michael intense. He’s dramatic; I’ll give him that. You thought.

“Drink some of this, Michael,” David pressured, offering him the bottle. He quieted and harshly whispered, “be one of us.” You could almost see the ellipses that appeared in Michael's head. You were glad you were not the only one who found the dramatic nature David was talking with anticlimactic. Michael stood from the fountain and gingerly took the bottle from David by the neck. As Dwayne and Paul began to chant Michael’s name, Laddie stood and ran away, granting you another reason to be concerned. Marko joined in. Star moved closer to Michael; you swear that she was just about ready to jump out of her skin with how skittish she was being. 

“Michael,” David called, egging him on. 

“Yeah, sure,” Michael responded before putting it up to his mouth and taking quite a few large gulps of it. The boys cheered with David yelling, “Bravo!” Star took a step back, shielding Laddie with her left hand. You could not understand why she was so nervous, so afraid. It was just a little bit of wine! Are they seriously trying to get him drunk? Maybe you have overestimated the boys’ planning skills.

Or, this was just a part of their initiation. They could be building up to the actual turning, but all you can do for now is speculate. Hopefully, you will remember to ask one of them about it later.

“Your turn, (Y/N).” You swiftly turned your head to face David, not expecting the spotlight to turn to you.

“Me?” Why did they want you to drink from the bottle? It was not as if you were the one who was going to start walking amongst the undead as one of them; Michael was the one who was joining the clique. 

“It's like an initiation,” Paul explained. “Drink it and you're officially one of us, sugar!”

“And don’t think that you’re done, Michael,” David warned as he handed you the bottle. He made brief eye contact with you before returning to look at Michael. “(Y/N) has already gone through it all; you’ve still got to show us that you’ve got what it takes.” Michael took a glimpse at you. 

“What it takes,” Michael pressed.

“To be one of us, Michael.”

“And I have what it takes,” you asked. No one denied the statement. You were not sure what specific qualities they saw in you and what they may have considered a test of your worth, but you apparently fit the bill.

“Why else would we be having such a special dinner, (Y/N),” David stated. You chortled. It was not as if they served you a five-star meal from some fancy restaurant that only takes patrons that are dressed to the nines. Well, it was in such a fancy hotel, though collapsed, so maybe you could let it slide.

“All this is for me,” you entertained his statement. 

“It is if you drink from the bottle,” Marko answered, sitting on the armrest and leaning towards you, giving you a prying look with raised eyebrows. You let out a hefty chuckle before looking down at the bottle in your hand, swishing the liquid in a clockwise motion, feeling the weight of it as it moved. With it in your hand, you got a closer inspection.

Though tacky, it was a beautiful vessel. It was a clear, glass bottle that was covered in gold plating. Over that, red and white gems decorated it. The red drink inside of the bottle was a vibrant red, bright and alluring. It made sense that they would choose such a drink. 

Beginning with Dwayne, the boys chanted, growing louder with each one,

“One of us! One of us! One of us!” An involuntary smile grew on your face. In a way, you guess that you were one of them and a part of their social circle. You had grown to care for them and it warmed your heart that they thought the same of you. 

It was just some wine, right? In a fancy sunken hotel like this, it would make sense to find such a fancy bottle among the rubble. And it made sense that this group of vampires would have some weird initiation rituals.

You brought the bottle to your lips and took a sip; you did not drink as much as Michael did, but just enough to get a small taste. That sample was enough given how the boys cheered as you felt it go down your throat. You did a double-take, not expecting it to taste like that.

It did not taste like wine, but it was nothing like you had ever drank before. It was strong, but it was from something other than the alcohol content. It was sweet with a bit of a spicy kick to it as it went down. You made a face, still trying to decide if you liked it or not.

“What is that?” You brought the opening to your eye before taking another sip. “Wow, that does not taste like wine.” One more time, you brought the bottle to your lips before concluding that you enjoyed the flavor; they chose a good initiation drink. 

You gave the bottle back to David as you licked your lips clean. You sat comfortably with a bashful smile that you tried to hide with the side of your hand. It was as if they were happier with you drinking the wine than they were with Michael drinking it with how they cheered. They clapped to a rhythm and excitedly chanted again,

“One of us! One of us!” You brought your tongue to the roof of your mouth.

"You guys are way too excited for a little bit of wine," you dismissed, a laugh escaping you as you tried to seem unmoved. Paul hopped onto the box he was sitting on and jumped off to the other side. He raised the volume on his stereo, which was playing some rock song you vaguely recognized. 

"Now, we really celebrate," David instructed as Paul jogged back and pulled you up. 

"You're one of us now, (Y/N)," Marko cheered as he patted you hard on the back, stepping in front of you and facing you with a wide smile, which you mirrored when you recovered. He took notice of how your eyes completely softened while you smiled at him. Your expression was so real, so sincere. 

Those high walls of yours had crumbled down to mere dust, allowing them to step in with ease, which was what you were afraid of, but you could not bring yourself to care in the moment. 

You felt a hand gently stroke your upper back and you turned to see Dwayne, who was grinning boyishly down at you. As they left you, you could not deny how good you felt when they chanted your name,

"(Y/N)! (Y/N)! (Y/N)!"

➳ ➳ ➳

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If your tag is crossed out, I was unable to tag you.

[nopelleen]

Perish, Pretty Please (5/5)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Rick Flag was known to be a pretty good leader, it was the reason why he had been chosen to lead a squad of infamously reckless and idiotic criminals, however it was a lot harder to maintain his authority when one member of the team despised his guts for seemingly no reason.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Rick Flag x Reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5.7k

ɴᴏᴛᴇ: it took me so long, but it’s finally there -- the last part! I started this fanfiction knowing I had a tendency not to finish them and I’m honestly so proud right now, I hope you’ll enjoy this last part as much as I enjoyed writing all of this! (also please let’s all have a moment of silence to remember the moment my hopeful, foolish ass actually posted the first part with “1/2″ in the title)

“Nope, there’s something we gotta take care of first."

You watched with blatant bafflement as the three men nonchalantly walked away from the blazing truck that had been transporting them merely minutes ago. There was almost a bit of disappointment in your heart as you watched the plan you and Cleo had so meticulously orchestrated on your way here vanish into thin air. It was a shame – your rescue plan involved a lot more wow factor. Had you known the outcome of this small drawback, you wouldn’t have put so much effort into it; but how could you have guessed the three of them would find a way out of a van guarded by multiples soldiers all the while handcuffed and therefore supposedly incapacitated? That was absurd.

“Don’t look so surprised, it’s insulting.”

You shot Flag a tight lipped, mocking smile as a response to his friendly jab, clearly recognizing the words you had used against him in the afternoon. Your sardonic grimace poorly mirrored the playful smirk the colonel adorned as he walked towards the van, and you were surprised to feel your heart swell a bit when you noticed his smile spread into a genuine one as he walked past you, slightly shaking his head in amusement.

Without even questioning how they had gotten themselves out of that prickly situation, you whirled around and followed suit as Rick climbed back into the van, telling Milton the small change of plan. That one enthusiastically nodded before happily informing the squad that you’d reach the city by dawn, making you realize you had spent a good chunk of the night at that bar and yet did not feel that tired yet – which might just have been from the adrenaline released into your system at the sight of your three teammates walking out of a blazing vehicle.

“You sleep, I watch Thinker,” Nanaue suggested as he heavily lumbered towards the back of the van, where the hostage was surprisingly staying very still, wise enough not to attempt anything while sharing the same space as King Shark.

Your steps faltered as you entered the van, your gaze hesitatingly flickering towards the seats in the back which appeared way too crowded for your liking. You usually would’ve simply gone back to your seat at the front, but Rick was now occupying the one near the window, probably as a way to stay close to the driver.

With a reluctant sigh, you were about to follow King Shark towards the back when Rick casted a pointed look towards you before patting the seat beside him in case you did not understand.

Relief washed over you and you didn’t even need to give it a second thought before flopping onto the space beside him, glad not to have to settle for a spot anywhere near Peacemaker. Your muscles were stiff as you quite literally bounced onto the cushion, and as soon as your back did as much as graze the backrest, the entire day of walk, hours of dancing and minutes of worrying about Flag’s well-being caught up with you with a dizzying speed.

If earlier that day you had been able to fight off sleep vigorously, you now found yourself melting into the cushion of your seat as soon as you flopped onto it. At first, you remained steadfast, refusing to yield to your basic human needs as you forced yourself to sit up straight, but then there was a strong gravitational pull making you sway a bit on your seat as your head started lolling forward, and then another pull – Rick’s hand, this time – gently steering you back into your seat. Incapable of fending off the drowsiness any longer, you surrendered and finally allowed yourself to loosen up, feeling your head snugly land upon Rick’s shoulder as you drifted off into a soundless sleep.

-----

“Outburst, hey!”

“She’s sleeping.”

From his seat at the very back of the van, Peacemaker frowned as he craned his neck in an attempt to peer at your figure still slumped over Rick’s shoulder. “Well, wake her up,” he groused, tinges of annoyance seeping from his usually polished tone. “She’s… spewing her emotions all over the place. It’s reeking of sadness in there.”

◦◦◦

“It’s reeking in there; crack a window open, will you?”

Your finger harshly jabbed the switch, your gaze remained firmly fixed on the buildings passing by in a blur as the window lowered just a bit in an abrupt, choppy motion. From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of your mother shooting you a brief, curious look. You hadn’t uttered a word ever since you two had left the family reunion. You knew it hadn’t been a good idea to agree to come.

The car then lapsed into another uncomfortable silence. You were both acutely aware of the thick, sweltering acrimony flooding off of you and yet still refused to address it, instead letting you bask in it with your mouth clamped shut, letting it gnaw your insides until your lungs felt charred, incapable of drawing oxygen any longer.

Why had you agreed to this? You were an adult; you didn’t need to expose yourself to this anymore.

You bit the inside of your cheek and tried to breathe in deeply, only for your chest to constrict, becoming painfully hollow. Tears started brimming at the edges of your vision and you finally allowed your lips to part, letting a bated breath stumble out of them with urgency.

“I heard you earlier.”

◦◦◦

“I’m not waking her up,” Rick scowled in one curt sentence, already feeling a bit on edge and therefore not wanting to dwell on the matter.

Peacemaker’s eyebrows furrowed even deeper at Rick’s unwavering tone. He usually dealt easily with negotiation and compromises, he worked well under authority and was a suitable soldier because of it, but at the moment, he couldn’t find it in himself to be patient – maybe because of how thick with tension the atmosphere had become because of you.

“We can feel her,” he insisted again, spitting the words out in an irritated hiss.

◦◦◦

“Honey, I can feel you, tone it down,” your mother complained as she kept her eyes on the road. Either your words went completely over her head, or she refused to acknowledge them, knowing that with the amount of resentment she could feel rolling off of you in waves, there was no way a discussion could lead to a good outcome at the moment. She was already having a hard time not letting the irritation get to her in spite of the smoldering atmosphere.

“I heard you talking to aunt Matty,” you reiterated. “You said it was my fault.”

“What was?”

“Dad leaving.”

The uttered words dropped like thunder in the car, leaving the air charged with electricity.

“I didn’t say that,” she rebutted with a bit of an acerbic tone. The tension was starting to get to her, slowly but steadily eating away at her mind in spite of her resolve. She could feel the resentment seeping into her like a foreign body infiltrating her immune system, but paradoxically, the angrier she got, the less willing she was to fight it off. “Don’t twist my words, you know I hate when you do that.”

◦◦◦

“I didn’t say she wasn’t allowed to sleep,” Peacemaker clarified, starting to sound a bit agitated as the tensed atmosphere got more and more on his nerves. “I’m simply saying she shouldn’t until we are.”

“She’s not hurting anyone.”

◦◦◦

“You said I was hurting him.”

“I said he was often on the wrong end of your temper. Listen, it’s—”

“Back off!”

◦◦◦

“Back off,” Rick sternly admonished him as soon as Peacemaker made a step towards the front of the bus, protectively wrapping an arm around your sleeping form. “She needs to rest. She got shot acting as a distraction so your team could make a smooth entrance, remember?” he reminded the man scornfully.

Peacemaker’s face remained calm in spite of the irritation coloring his eyes. His gaze briefly flickered from you to Flag, hesitating.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

◦◦◦

“You know how you made him feel,” your mother uttered, efficiently putting an end to the exchange.

You remembered the times during which you were moody, when you came back home after having spent the entire day feeling everyone’s emotions around you, when your father did as much as try to talk to you about it, thus instantly setting you off. He was always the spark that ignited you. Whether he was inquiring about your day, or commenting on your behavior, or even just standing a bit too close to you… He’d end up angry, hurt, aggressive – whatever you were feeling at the moment, he’d always end up feeling it too.

Your mother was just wise enough to stay away.

But you also remembered the shouts in the kitchen, the jabs, the constant bickering between them. You remembered listening to it from the stairs and then being blamed for their bad tempers. You’d be blamed for the anger, the aggressiveness, the slaps that so often echoed through the house.

She was wise enough to stay away, and yet be close enough when she’d need an excuse.

“It wasn’t just me,” you whispered through gritted teeth.

“I never said it was.”

“It was you,” you spat out as you whipped your head towards her. “You made him miserable.”

Your eyes were completely focused on her face, her pursed lips and closed-off features, and never once did you notice the way her foot slowly started pressing further onto the accelerator.

◦◦◦

You woke up with a start and instantly casted a frantic gaze around you, expecting the usual blaring horns and shouts that followed this exchange. You were surprised to find yourself in a safe environment, all wrapped up in an unexpected warm, comforting atmosphere. Usually, the second you woke up, your instincts picked up on the foul aura of anguish you had unconsciously secreted into the air, and yet, here, you could feel nothing but utter peacefulness.

One of your eyebrows formed an elegant arch as you lowered your gaze to glimpse at the warm weight wrapped around you, only for your eyes to land on a familiar calloused hand hanging from your shoulder and almost grazing your cheek. You felt a faint smile tenderly pulling at the corners of your lips before even turning your head to confirm the identity of the owner of the arm wrapped around your shoulders, and when you turned your head to direct your gaze towards Flag’s sleeping face, you simply found yourself incapable to fight it off anymore.

Then, with a fond smile pulling at the corners of your lips, you snugly nestled you head back into his side and shut your eyes, this time knowing for a fact that you wouldn’t risk infuse the atmosphere with anything else than a blissful quietude.

◦◦◦

It was chaos. Utter chaos.

Your car was long abandoned a few feet away from you, fuming after having hit another vehicle in the middle of an intersection. The driver who had started fighting with you was now in a fully blown-out fist fight with another man who had merely tried to step in for you, and the more people got out of their cars to understand what was going on, the more people got trapped under your influence and started fighting, some going as far as purposefully ramming their vehicle into another’s.

Your voice was hoarse from shouting at the driver who had first attacked you and you were now trembling with anger as you watched an entire riot unfold before your very eyes, unconsciously fueling it with intense waves of rage that'd hit any innocent that'd happen to walk a bit to close to the scene.

Someone gripped your shoulder and you tried to jerk away from the touch, whirling your head towards the person with your teeth bared, ready to attack whoever was trying to get your attention.

“Honey, focus on me, alright? Focus on me.”

The voice was rough, the tone frenzied, and yet when the hands grasped your shoulders, it was with an unexpected gentleness. The fingers were quivering with restraint, barely managing not to dig into your skin in an attempt to snap you out of it.

This staggering tenderness startled you so much that it managed to take you out of your trance for a fleeting moment, allowing reason to take over as you fought back the instinctive urge to shove the hands away. With frantic, brimming eyes, you diverted your gaze towards your mother, desperate for a comforting point of focus to latch onto like a lifeline.

A sob threatened to crawl up your throat as soon as you met her eyes. There, in the midst of all the hardly concealed anger – a glint of affection, a vacillating spike of tenderness battling to emerge from under all that vibrating rage your mind was forcefully pushing into her. With a choked-up breath of relief, you instinctively stepped forward, latching onto that abiding twinkle of kindness in spite of all that surrounding violence like a lifeline.

Then, when there was an anticipated screeching of tires coming from your side, a glimpse of grey metal flashing out of the corner of your eye, and an oh-so-familiar harrowing feeling of dread seizing your insides, you kept your eyes unwaveringly locked into your mother’s, resolutely shutting out everything else around you. You bored your gaze into hers and let your mind soak in her warmth.

The car never came, the shouts quietened down, your surroundings slowed down until coming to a complete halt, time stalled and your dream mercifully stepped away from your memories to spare you.

You stood there for ages lost into your mother’s loving gaze, until – having strayed too far from reality – your subconscious lost all senses of what was and wasn’t at the time and let the scene morph into whatever your mind desired. Then, when the voice spoke up again, it wasn’t your mother standing before you anymore,  but a person you now trusted more than you ever thought you would.

“Don’t be scared of me.”

 -----

“We need to help these people.”

The words went completely over your head as you despairingly gaped at the glass in front of you, feeling cold to your bones.

You had gotten a bad feeling as soon as the elevator doors had cracked open.

There hadn’t even been time to make a step forward before you had gotten hit by the foul, repugnant thickness sullying the air with a strength that almost had you rearing your head back a bit. For a dizzying second, the vile and nauseating reek had left you standing there, blearily blinking as your senses had desperately struggled to accommodate to the repellent atmosphere. Yet, in spite of the tears brimming at the corners of your eyes just from the sheer despondency emanating from the place, you had been far from imagining the atrocity, the barbarism of the experiments that were taking place down here.

Despite your reluctance, you had been forced to follow the others as they had stalked out of the elevator, engaging into the dark and humid place with feeble, hesitant steps. As you had all crossed the small entrance leading to the laboratory, you had needed to fight your instincts that they had urgently pleaded you to simply whirl around and run back into the elevator.

Every breath you had taken weighed heavily on your tongue, the pungency sticking to the walls of your throat and poisoning your lungs. Every other second you had spent down there had simply felt like another year taken off your life, the wretched atmosphere slowly eating away at your brain like acid.

In spite of all of that, it had taken some time for the horror to truly dawn on you.

The despair had crept into your heart with every step you had made into the cellar, and then, when you had gotten to the center of it, you had felt for the very first time of your life an intense claustrophobia swarming your heart. Surrounded by a sea of decaying bodies all bound together by the same searing, devastating agony, the hostile basement had quickly gone from a gruesome laboratory to a deadly trap slowly closing in on you.

With nothing but wandering bodies all around you, you felt at the bottom of a pit of wretchedness, your head swelling with an intense, overwhelming pain. It was as though you were entrapped in the center of a microwave which was channeling thousands of screams directly towards your brain instead of radiations, however one of them was significantly stronger than the others and seemed to come from the wide glass wall right in front of you.

“Impossible, dear. They’re corpses below those stars.”

In spite of the searing agony flaring through your chest, your heartbeat seemed to slow down and settle onto a numbing, soporific pace as you unconsciously started stepping towards the wide glass, as though bewitched by the heart-wrenching wail you felt coming from whatever was hiding in that liquid.

With trembling, tentative fingers, you lifted your hand and slowly pressed your palm against the freezing glass, yearning to soothe the poor sufferer from their wrenching agony. The pain only seemed to intensify at the touch, the feeling of desolation gripping your insides as your ears started ringing, completely isolating you from the others. There was nothing else in that room but you and a desolated martyr screaming with thousand of voices right into your mind.

You watched with mournful, brimming eyes as the dark figure behind the glass started stirring until a single, colossal eye revealed itself in front of you, appearing emotionless to any common spectator and yet emitting an amount of woe that would’ve had you on your knees had you not gotten so used to sensing people’s emotions.

“Outburst?”

Rick’s voice rose up right behind you but still didn’t startle you, your eyes riveted onto the creature before you with rapt focus.

“It’s in pain,” you croaked out, the faint words scraping your dry throat like some sandpaper grating your vocal cords. “It’s in so much pain.” You shifted your fingers a bit, as if trying to press your hand closer to the glass, get closer to that strange creature, completely blind to the danger it represented. The tentacles, bumps and single eye did not matter – all you could see was the utter suffering it was in.

“Well,” the Thinker unabashedly butted in, “if I’m not mistaken regarding the purpose of your self-righteous egomaniacal mission – not for much longer.”

His words dawned on you with a dry clarity and had you shifting away from the glass in one brisk motion to whirl your head towards Rick. “We can’t kill it,” you asserted with an adamant, steadfast tone that did not match the slight waver in your voice.

“We have orders.”

Rick’s steadfast voice was way more convincing than yours, and what would’ve usually been a mere reminder of his status as colonel felt like a frustrating hindrance that only heightened the desperation swarming your heart and made you let go of the glass to tighten your fists as you turned around to fully face him.

“No, we can’t, we have to help it, it’s—”

“It’s dangerous,” Rick cut you off, his distrust-colored eyes briefly flickering towards the glass wall.

“It’s suffering!”

Your distressed screech echoed through the cellar, your plea painfully reverberating on the walls and splattering the frantic desperation dripping from your tone all around the basement.

For a fleeting moment, Flag remained speechless, as if hit with full force by the intensity of your despair. During that fleeting moment, you caught a glimpse of the hesitation flashing in his eyes, the way he seemed to ponder over the situation for even just a second, wondering what to do and which way to choose. Then, his gaze flickered to the side, briefly meeting Peacemaker’s, and you were able to pinpoint the exact moment he put his guards up again, welding back on his old mask of professionalism to tightly shut out any emotion you could try to induce in him.

There was a subtle shift in his expression, so subtle you might not even have noticed had you not been so desperately seeking any trace of support on his features. Instead of showing the understanding you were so badly hoping for, the traits of his face hardened, the glint in his eyes dimmed, and then you weren’t standing before Rick anymore, you were facing the colonel, towering over you with his back straight and his orders engraved in his mind.

You were acutely aware of the fact that the mission outweighed you; you had just hoped Rick would hold enough respect towards you to give your words the slightest bit of consideration. Apparently, this respect only allowed you one minute of his time before he completely shut you out.

With a sharp, regretful sigh, he took a step towards you and grabbed your arm with a gentle reluctance that contrasted with the harshness of his tone as he said that you needed to go with the other team.

You tried to protest but his strides were long and hasty, and before you even knew it, he was punching the first-floor button of the elevator as you stood inside of it, stunned.

Just as the doors started closing before you, you feebly parted your lips to utter one last plead; your pained, wavering voice coming out laced with betrayal. “You said I could trust you.”

When he had seemed ready to turn away as soon as the doors started closing between you, Rick’s attention seemed to be piqued by your words as he shifted his gaze back onto you, lingering in front of the elevator for just a second more.

The distress coloring your eyes melted into a sullen resignation as soon as your gaze bored into his, your chest constricting with dejection. There, under the thick coat of seriousness, in the midst of all the restrained belligerence this place inspired him, no glint of affection was to be found, no spike of tenderness desperately trying to emerge from the vibrating anger – nothing but cold, glaring callousness.

Not Rick.

Colonel.

-----

“Where’s Flag?”

Bloodsport turned his gaze towards you, and you instantly recognized the apologetic look in his eyes.

As he grimly shook his head, you finally experienced it firsthand – the agony of a thousand people.

-----

“Apparently Waller sent something to his hospital room. People are joking and saying she sent flowers, but if you want my opinion the old hag probably sent him a reminder that his contract doesn’t cover paid sick leaves.”

The voice, just like the steps accompanying it, echoed through the corridor and kept getting closer to your cell, undoubtedly coming from yet another guard who’d attempt to get a word or a reaction out of you – anything that’d stop them from having to book in an appointment with the jail therapist.

You had seen many of them pass by while you had spent days in a temporary cell during your recovery but hadn’t thought they’d keep on sending them after having transferred back in your old cell this morning.

The landscape change didn’t make any difference for you, as you simply kept on staring at the wall for hours on end with the most irksome gloomy look clouding your features.

You couldn’t think about anything else than Rick.

You didn’t think you had even truly processed it yet. It had happened too fast.

Within the span of a few days, the colonel had somehow gained your trust, slowly leading you to warm up to him by showing you an affection you hadn’t experienced in years. It felt like he had turned your world upside down, made everything brighter with the prospect of saving lives alongside a superior who truly valued you, and then you had made the mistake of letting him out of your sight, forced to walk away from that dreadful laboratory for just a few minutes, and he had died there, the one person on this earth who you could genuinely trust now buried under the rumbles in that bottomless pit of agony.

You had mulled over it what felt like a thousand times already and you just could not figure out how to simply go on with your life. Not when your one chance at a brighter future had been squandered so violently as soon as you had turned your back to it.

Somehow, it felt like your fault.

You had been careless, unfocused. You had forcefully dragged Rick’s attention away from the mission at hand only because you were too weak to handle the downsides of your ability, your eyes pathetically overflowing with tears of empathy as the rest of your team simply tried to achieve the mission. You had distracted Rick as that one had been forced to take you to the elevator like a child, had unconsciously helped Peacemaker steal a secret file and forced Cleo to try and stop him on her own before Flag could come to her aid.

The file had been retrieved, but only after Bloodsport had stopped Peacemaker from coldly eliminating Cleo. Only after Rick’s body had already been left laying soundly in the laboratory.

They had fought with all their might for that file, for those values you had accused Flag of lacking merely days ago, and you hadn’t even been there.

It had been crushing to find out that the trust you held towards him had been misplaced, but it was nothing in comparison to discovering he shouldn’t have trusted you either.

You forcefully swallowed back the lump in your throat when you heard the steps finally come to a halt right by your cell and had a hard time concealing the startled look on your face when a very familiar voice rose up.

“Well well well, from what I’ve heard little princess doesn’t want to eat anymore?”

The hair on the back of your neck stood on end at the falsely dulcet tone dripping with a syrupy looking but dangerously abrasive poison. You had to keep yourself from gritting your teeth as your gaze caught up on Griggs’ silhouette standing before your cell from the corner of your eye.

“You’re not even gonna make an effort for me?” he teased you as his lips spread into a sneering smile that made him look more moronic than sadistic due to the absolute lack of sagacity behind his eyes.

You kept your mouth tightly shut and your eyes riveted to the wall across from you, trying to muster the blankest expression you could not to let him affect you but feeling a peeved expression weighing down on your features nonetheless.

“Aww, guys it looks like we’re gonna have to use the feeding tubes,” Griggs ironically groaned, turning towards his colleagues with a facetious glint in his eyes. One of them instantly stepped up to open the door to your cell, not even needing to think twice about the threat just emitted. “You know how much I hate doing that,” he then kept on jeering, much to the amusement of the other guards.

You waited with anticipation as he stepped into the cell, feeling your entire body buzzing with an overpowering apprehension, not having a clue of what you could do but knowing for a fact that with all the adrenaline slowly being spread into your system, there was no way you’d let Griggs go back to his old mistreatment.

His filthy fingers barely grazed your skin, and, as though electrified, you jumped to your feet, putting some distance between you and him. You kept your eyes determinedly fixated in front of you but could see from the corner of your eye how stunned he was by your abrupt reaction. He had gotten to the unresponsive side of you that had emerged after only a few months here, the poor figure staying down on the ground and no longer batting an eyelash at his constant abuse. His face remained dazed for a fleeting moment before the ghost of a smirk reappeared on his features.

After all, he had broken you once, it’d be no bother to do it a second time.

“What, you go on one mission with Task Force X and then you don’t like me anymore?”

He reached out a hand again, much more aggressively this time, and you jolted away, instinctively bringing a hand up without even knowing if you were willing to take the risk of hitting him.

“Step away from her, Griggs.”

The stone cold words loudly rang through the cell and heavily fell between you both, instantly followed by a deafening silence as Griggs’ hand hovered in the air for a fleeting moment, just inches away from the skin of your arm.

Then, for a dizzying, fleeting moment, it felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the cell.

Chill shivers of relief racked your spine before your brain even had time to process the voice, and then, when the familiarity of it finally sank in, you felt as though some freezing water had been dumped over you, leaving you soaked and shivering in the middle of your cell – only this time Griggs wasn't the cause of it.

You whirled your head towards the entrance of your cell with a vertiginous speed and had to bite back a choked-up noise from stumbling out of your lips when your gaze landed upon the owner of the voice glowering at Griggs with a murderous look in his eyes.

“You’re not supposed to be back yet,” Griggs pointed out sheepishly, letting his arm limply drop to his side now that his focus had been completely taken off of you.

“I was feeling better,” Rick informed him with a tight-lipped smile which then briskly dropped from his features. “Now stand down,” he repeated himself, his voice steadfast and as neutral as he could muster it. “I wouldn’t push my luck if I were you. I’ve seen what you did to her, and I’d love to show you what it feels like to be on the wrong side of the blade.”

The threat made the cell go utterly silent and for just a second, the sweetest second ever, all traces of amusement vanished from Griggs’ suddenly pale face. He looked started, nervous, oh so pathetic, and then when he finally regained his composure enough to quickly muster up the most serious look he could to paint on his pallid features, he had already lost all respect from every occupant of the room.

“You’d risk your job for a bitch who told you to eat shit five minutes into your mission?”

There was an imperceptible twitch on Rick’s features at the reminder. He had to briskly fight off a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips, but you could still discern the faintest glint of amusement in his eyes and had to swallow back a choked-up laugh – your heart swarming with a bunch of overwhelming emotions you couldn’t even identify at the moment.

His eyes briefly flickered to you. “Apparently,” he conceded with the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips, before he cast his gaze back on Griggs and recovered a cold, severe expression. “And, trust me, given how liked you are around here, I don’t think I’d risk more than a paid leave even if I attempted to murder you.”

Yet another sullen silence fell over the cell like a heavy fog, and this time, Griggs made the wise decision of not shattering it, containing his anger within a single huff before stalking out of the cell with heavy steps that made him akin to a stomping child. His colleagues briefly glanced at Rick, not quite knowing what to do, before meeting his eyes and promptly deciding to follow Griggs’ decision.

“You’re alive,” you breathlessly uttered as soon as you were both left alone.

“A bit roughed up, but yes, alive,” he winced back, turning his gaze towards you.

You knew he couldn’t feel the blissful exultation swarming your heart now that your ability was smothered by the collar secured around your neck, but you hoped he could see it in your eyes and in the way you just couldn’t seem to blink those relieved tears away.

Rick took a few steps towards you and let out a bated breath, as if he was finally allowed to exhale, as if he hadn’t been able to feel comfortable until standing near you again – and you then knew for a fact that if he couldn’t see the exultation in your heart, he at least felt it as well.

Without another word, he then tentatively brought a hand up before letting it hover uncertainly in the air. He seemed hesitant as if he wasn’t sure how to act anymore now that his mask of professionalism was gone, and you couldn’t help but let out a short chuckle. This was enough for a single droplet to finally fall from your brimming eyes, and the way Rick’s gaze seemed to soften even more at the sight of it almost led you to shedding a few more.

With utter cautiousness, he brought his hand to your face to brush the stray tear away and then left it there, his warm palm cradling your cheek.

“Looks like I’ve won again,” he said in a breath, the words merely stumbling out of his lips as if he were afraid to break that frail, tender moment of vulnerability between the two of you. His thumb gently stroked your cheek again and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, your gaze never once leaving his. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

You had once said that the only way for Rick to ever get close to you was for you to give out your last breath, and yet, ever since that very vow you had felt yourself ever-so-slowly opening up to him, as though there was something in the air and it was killing you softly.

Now that the sweet, sweet poison had filled up your lungs – all wrapped up in his arms and boring your gaze into his with a wide-eyed fascination – you chose to completely let go of that vow, braving the risk to perish and merely uttering back two candid, gentle words.

“Pretty please.”

Previous

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[twinklelilstarkey]

For the Colton Imagine can it be something like proposal or with kids (he just looks adorable with children)

Kids - Colton Parayko

A/N: Of course, baby! I chose with kids because I just couldn't say no to that. Here it is.

Words: 2.7k+

Type: Fluff

Warnings: Reader is a kindergarten teacher. Kids (?). Just Colton melting over kids and being their favorite.

To say that your boyfriend looked cute when with kids, is an understatement. He’s just the purest and most adorable person when he’s close to a kid. His whole expression can change when his eyes land on the small young humans, and so does his smile and his tone of voice.

Colton is just a sight to see. And a great helper too.

The reason behind that is that you’re a kindergarten teacher. You, as someone that has always loved the idea of being around kids, are still young and learning in your job on how to be a great teacher and even role model to such young kids.

Right off when you started your career, before meeting Colton, you wanted kids to have the best of experiences in your classroom. You wanted to be the coolest teacher, all because you also had that when you were younger. And that came with a lot of fun activities throughout the week and a lot of decorating to do in your classroom. 

Is it tiring? Yes. But is it worth it when the kids run in every morning all excited to see you? Oh, absolutely.

Close to any festive date, you remodel your classroom with the help of your coworkers - and Colton, when he’s free - and always do a list of all the activities you want to do during the week.

Imagination is key in this job.

You met Colton a year into your job. It was a random date you had set yourself in by a dating app - something your friends had forced you to try and see what would happen.

On that date, the first minutes were a bit awkward, you felt nervous and Colton felt all anxious. You were scared that it would all just be a recipe for disaster. 

For an example, the thoughts that ran through your mind were all about: what if one of you just said something completely random or talked too much? 

Ugh, it was stressful, to say the least.

But that was until you said what you do for a living. Oh, the heart eyes he gave you.

“So, you like kids?” He had asked you.

“Of course! Ever since I was teenager and babysat my neighbor’s kid.”

You won your way to his heart right away. He made you all sorts of questions about your job and just smiled all the time you would mention your favorite moments with the kids. 

And when you asked about him, and he told all sorts of opportunities he has had with his job to hang out with kids. And you felt like you melted into a puddle. 

He would mention how many times he has infiltrated himself onto small kids’ skating-classes at the Enterprise center and how they would always let him help out. Kids are, honestly, who rule the soft spot on his heart.

All the stories the two of you had, were just what saved that date. It was what made you talk for hours and hours about one another and make you notice how much more you have in common, other than liking kids.

Both of your friend groups would just think that their ears would fall off if they heard you talk about one another one more time, during the following weeks.

Three dates in and you’re dating. Living your absolute best life.

And two years later, which is now, you’re still dating Colton. You, now, go and see him in every home game and he picks you up from work every time he’s free. He also helps you with buying stuff for your classroom - when it needs redecoration, or when you need help with getting stuff ready on big days.

“Can you pass me the scissors, babe?” Colton asks you as he stares intensely at the piece of paper.

You pass him the scissors quickly and he whispers at you a little ‘thank you’.

You’re both sitting in one of the small tables of your classroom while cutting up some drawn and painted balloons. 

Today marks a week away from your class’s last kindergarten day, so you’re getting everything ready for it to the best last few days with them.

Most of the classroom, if not the school, is decorated. You, honestly, just need to add the little details you weren’t able to finish on Friday’s afternoon, and Colton, which had a day off, decided to come in with you super early to help.

You look over at the clock on the wall and you almost let out a gasp. The first kids, the ones that always appear before time for class, are almost here.

Quickly you stand on your feet and go get the other things ready while Colton continues to cut up balloons or drawing cute faces on them.

You open the bags of candy and start putting two down by the desk of each kid, probably looking like a maniac at how quick you’re moving around. 

You dunk the rest in the bowl by your desk, and you hear, very faintly, a little giggle at the end of the hall.

Oh, here they come.

You grab onto your sheets of paper and look over your shoulder at the door of your classroom, seeing it open very slowly. A small head of dark curls appears and a group of gasps escapes the children at the door.

“Good morning, Miss Y/N!” The girl that peeked in first says with her big smile.

“Good morning!” You say back with a smile.

Colton lifts his gaze from his little balloon and he sees the small kids, all staring up at you by the door. He smiles as you let them in the class and all their eyes land on him as he comes into view.

“This is Colton, he’s just helping me out, today.” You explained to them.

Some of the shyer kids hesitated a bit when walking in the colorful room, but the extroverts just sprinted to him with their toothless smiles.

“Hi!” They all screamed at him at different timings. “I’m Jacob!” One of them screams while everyone else also begins their introductions.

Colton smiles at them and soon a wave of questions hits him.

Children, when not scared, are one of the most curious beings in the world, so they will ask anyone about anything. And that comes with a large lack of filter too. But that is not something anyone that has come close to a child doesn’t know.

Colton, to your surprise, was able to answer every single one of them without ignoring any kids. Something you, their teacher, still have some difficulty doing, today.

While most of the kids are distracted with him, you go and drift your attention towards the shyest ones. You walk over to the door and go help the ones who are hesitating to walk in, holding up your hand at them before crouching down to their level to say a little ‘good morning’.

In a matter of very few minutes, you’re able to warm them up with the idea of walking in - which, indeed, has a lot to do with the candies that are resting on their desks. 

When the small group of kids clears out your door, you notice a special girl you’ve grown to love ever since you started working here.

Her name is Addison and she is the purest, yet the shyest kid you’ve ever come to meet. She’s timid to the point of preferring to be alone all day, even in the park in recess. She has had to change classes a bunch of times due to that lack of talking and not making friends, yet she landed on yours a year ago.

Throughout this year, you have been trying your best at winning her trust. She’s a very scared little being and you can’t just leave her in the corner, especially when most of the stuff you do in class is for everyone to be involved and have a great time as a group.

There have been good days and bad days, yet her good days are able to make your heart melt. Those are the days where she’s able to do more than half of the stuff you offer her to do and with a smile. The most precious smile in the world.

“Good morning, princess Addison.” You tell her as she stands behind the doorway. “I love your dress, today!”

A small little curve appears over her lips and she starts taking small steps towards you. You smile brightly at her, still crouched to be at eye level, and she quickly is standing in front of you.

“Mommy did my hair today.” She whispers at you.

You let out an enthusiastic gasp and she smiles at you.

“Oh, well, let me see the masterpiece.”

She turns around to do a little twirl and you look to see her coily hair separated in two perfect buns, which are held by two glittery light blue elastics - Addison’s favorite color.

“Wow!” You tell her and she turns back to you.

She is smiling so brightly that you swear you’re already a puddle. She’s just this adorable human being. 

If there’s any kid that will make you emotional when leaving on the last day, it will be her. No offense to anyone else, she’s just the princess of the classroom.

Colton, who is still sitting at the table, has found himself done with all the cutting and coloring, but also with two young boys climbing his back to dangle over his shoulders.

You weren’t kidding when you said that the kids are always in a good mood right in the morning.

He laughs at something one of the boys says and he looks over to check on you. You’re talking to a little girl in a blue dress and your smile is just as wide as it can be, as well as your eyes, which just twinkle with love.

When you finally stand back on your feet and extend your hand over to the little girl, Colton notices how her expression changes. Her small eyes study the room anxiously as she walks with you, and when they land on him, even worse.

Stranger danger, Colton, come on! Of course, the kids won’t like you right off the bat.

Before Colton could stand up or say anything to announce how he’s already done with his task at you, a little voice stops him.

“Mister Colton?” A little boy says while waving his arm around, “Are you and Miss Y/N dating?”

(...)

Half an hour later and your classroom is almost full, as hell as it’s almost time for class to begin and Colton’s time to leave. You stand back to look at what you just put on the wall, just to make sure it’s centered. 

Yeah, looks good.

The usual giggles, ones you’ve grown quite accustomed to, are louder, yet only now you’re looking back to see what’s happening.

Colton is still sitting with the kids, he has two boys laying over his shoulders, which look like they’re about to do a handstand, and he’s talking to a whole other group that is sitting on the floor in front of him.

You walk over to your desk to check something on your computer before you announce the time to everyone - and end up breaking everyone’s hearts. And as soon as you take a seat on your chair, you notice that Addison has gotten up from her seat.

One of her little drawings is still sitting on her desk, but you can’t stop yourself from looking for her in the big group of children around your boyfriend. And that’s when you see her, walking towards him with a paper in her hands.

Colton continues to talk to the kids, but that’s when he notices a small figure appear beside him. He looks over and the girl from before - Addison, you already told him the name of everyone in the room - is standing right beside him.

He gives her a smile, which she gives back, just a little shyer.

A sudden weight is lifted off his shoulders - quite literally, because one of the boys became tired of hanging on his shoulder, but also because she had just smiled at him. 

So, he decides to try his best.

“What do you have there?” He asks Addison, pointing his finger at the paper on her hand, honestly, just trying to make conversation.

Why does he feel nervous?

He notices her lips moving, but he can’t hear what she said. So he leans in, turning his head to the side, so she can repeat right over his ear.

“A drawing.” She tells him, again, in a whisper.

Colton snaps his head back to her and smiles widely in excitement.

“Really?”

She nods.

“Can I see it?”

Her lips move again and Colton leans in again so she can talk on his ear.

“It’s for you.”

“For me?” Colton asks extremely excited and looks over at her.

Addison nods with a little shy smile and a little giggle escapes her mouth as he looks at her with an open mouth in shock. She, slowly, raises her hand with the paper on it and Colton, just as slowly, takes it.

(Kind of looks like this - but make it hockey)

As his eyes land on the paper, he feels his heart burst at how adorable it is. He can tell that it’s a bunch of hockey players, all of them with blue jerseys and with hockey sticks on their hands.

“Oh my god!” He whisper-yells, making the girl look at him a little worried, “It’s amazing!”

Another giggle escapes her mouth and Colton, probably getting too confident, extends his (now) free arms to ask for a hug. She looks at him a little hesitatingly, yet before he could even think twice about what he just requested, she throws herself into his arms.

Colton, like with any other kid from class that requested a hug, wraps his arms around her and pulls her into the hug. Her giggles fill the room and you smile at the sight.

It’s impressive, to say the least. It took you so long to get that little girl’s trust and with one simple morning, Colton, not only got a drawing but a hug?!

Sounds unfair to you. Even though extremely adorable.

“So, you’re a blues fan?” You hear him ask her, making you let out a laugh.

If she isn’t, he sure is going to convert her into being one.

She nods her head and decides to do the same thing as another kid is doing beside Colton - sitting over his leg. Colton, now with one kid on each leg, and still one over his shoulder, looks over at you.

His smile is just the brightest ever. He’s having the time of his life.

He looks back at Addison and shows the drawing she just did to her.

“Am I in this?” He asks her and she nods.

Her little finger points at one of the figures with blue jerseys and the only difference between him and the other guys is that he’s holding hands with someone. He eyes the other person with care, and just by the clothes that they’re wearing and from the hair.

It’s you. Holding his hand while he holds a stick with his opposite hand.

He unconsciously pouts at how cute it all is and fights his urges to stand and run to you, just to show you the amazing drawing.

You must have read his mind, because right as he thought that, you appeared beside him, also taking a seat over the carpet with everyone. It didn’t take long for some of your students to move over and sit close to you.

Colton hands you the drawing, which you carefully grab it, and he points at the pair of people in the middle of it. You smile brightly and Addison gives the two of you her biggest smile of the day.

She was proud of her drawing, but, now, more than ever.

“Ms. Y/N, can Colton stay for the rest of the day?” Someone asks in the crowd of children.

Colton laughs beside you and you smile at the boy who asked it. Before you could even open your mouth to answer him, Colton does it.

“No, but I can come back tomorrow (?)” He says, almost as if it’s a question.

He’s looking at you, and that’s when you understand that he’s asking you for permission. And as soon as the kids also notice that, a wave of screams hits your ears.

“Please!” and “Let him!” are screamed at you and you smile.

“Yeah, of course.” You tell him and he smiles.

The kids celebrate, some by jumping around, others throwing their fists in the air while screaming victoriously, and others - like Addison - just smile at the both of you.

Ugh, things can’t get better than this.

Hope you liked this! Sorry it took me a little long to post it, but I was a little stuck on one part. Really hope it was worth the wait.

[honeypiehotchner]

intelligence & issues (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- chapter twenty-two

I’m liking this two updates a week schedule because I hate leaving you guys hanging like that!! I hope this chapter makes it all better xx.

Oh btw the title of this chapter and last chapter are lyrics from “Hold On” by Chord Overstreet! (Also I know the gif is irrelevant but the ~emotion~ of it is relevant)

ALSO (wow I have a lot I keep forgetting to add) I meant to @ her last chapter, but all of these medical scenes and things were 100% done with the help of @thedumpsterqueen​ because I know next to nothing about all this stuff and she was an angel and let me ask all the crazy questions <333 (P.S. she has a Hotch fic called Standards of Performance on her blog that you guys should alllll read if you haven’t already!! It’s SO good it’s one of my favorites)

Warnings: angst and sadness, but that’s pretty much it

Previous chapter || Fic Masterlist

Chapter Twenty-Two: I can’t imagine a world with you gone

Everything is a blur in Hotch’s mind before and after the first gunshot rings through the air. He didn’t need to hear the buzzing in his ear to know it had hit you.

He took off at a sprint, as did the rest of the team.

His ears are ringing. His thoughts are racing. He’s never been a man who talks frequently to God, but he’s praying. Hoping you’re alive. Begging you to not be dead.

Aaron would never forgive himself if you died. As it stands, though, he won’t ever forgive himself for this.

Prentiss, Reid, and Rossi take off in one direction. Hotch and Morgan take the other. Police officers fill the gaps and follow behind, everyone searching for you and Savannah.

Morgan is the first to stumble on the room. His throat aches when he screams for Hotch, keeping his weapon aimed at Savannah.

“Put the gun down!” Morgan yells.

Hotch comes skidding to a stop in the doorway a second later, weapon raised, but his eyes are focused on you. Savannah’s boot is pressing into your thigh, blood oozing from your wound, soaking your pants, spilling onto the concrete. Hotch’s heart drops at the sight. He’s seen enough bullet wounds to know how much blood should come from them. That is too much.

The bullet must’ve hit the major artery. And the thought terrifies him.

Morgan takes the shot when Savannah refuses to move. It hits her stomach and she stumbles for a moment before falling. Morgan yells for the paramedics again, distantly thinking they should be in here by now.

Hotch falls to the ground beside you, his hands cupping your face, not caring who sees. His thumbs tap your cheeks, willing you to open your eyes. You have a pulse, but it’s weak. Weaker than what it should be.

He presses hard over your wound, hoping to slow the bleeding, but there’s more surrounding your leg than he wants to see.

“Y/N?” He says, his eyes watching your eyelids for any movement. He lets out a momentary sigh of relief when your eyes open. “Y/N, please, can you hear me?”

You stare back at him, no signs of his words registering in your eyes. They’re empty. Haunted, again, but for a different reason this time. This time it’s different. “Aaron…”

“I’m here,” Hotch says gently, pressing his hand harder, his heart breaking when you groan in pain. “I know,” he says, shushing you.

Your eyes travel around the room then, and Aaron follows. Morgan is pressing his hand over Savannah’s wound, speaking into his wrist, asking the others where the hell the paramedics are at.

But Aaron doesn’t want you to see that, so he cups your jaw again, turning your eyes back on him. He smiles as best he can, the tears beginning to spill from his eyes as he takes in your face.

“There’s my girl,” he says softly. “Keep holding on. They’re almost here.”

“Aaron,” you try to say, your voice low and strained, and Aaron shakes his head, trying to get you to stop talking. “Aaron...I don’t wanna go without-- I need to tell you that I--”

“Shhh,” he tries again, not wanting you to waste any energy. “You don’t need to.”

“I love you,” you finally get it out. And he’s stunned to complete silence and tears. “I love you so...so much. It hurts.”

“Y/N,” he says, panicked. Your eyes are closing. “Y/N! Come back, Y/N, come back to me. Y/N. Y/N, please.”

Hotch is too caught up in holding your face and keeping pressure on your wound to notice the paramedics have arrived. One team goes to Savannah, relieving Morgan, while the other comes to you, trying to usher Hotch away, but he doesn’t budge.  

“Hotch,” Morgan tugs on the unit chief, grabbing at his arms, his heart breaking for the both of you. “Hotch, you need to let them get to her.”

Reluctantly, Hotch backs up, clenching his bloodied fist, grimacing at the way your blood sticks his skin together.

Everything else is a blur.

What does it need to be clear for, anyway? If you’re not here?

+++

You’re still in surgery.

It’s been an hour. But it feels longer. It feels like it’s been an entire twenty-four hours.

The entire team has taken up camp in a waiting room at the hospital.

Reid is reading and rereading every magazine he can get his hands on to distract himself, never mind the fact that he reads them so fast that he rips a page on one from turning it so quickly. Morgan has Garcia on the phone and has left to get coffee at least three times, the first time returning with a tray of steaming cups and the next two times returning with only one, but two tearful eyes. Emily has been pacing and will wear a hole into the tile at this rate if she walks for another hour. JJ has been staring at the wall, chewing so hard on the inside of her cheek that she flinches when she draws blood.

Rossi has been staring at the wall, too, but mostly he’s been worrying about and watching Hotch.

Aaron has been biting his nails, tugging at his hair, angrily wiping away tears, and left once to go on a walk before returning two minutes later, asking if they had heard anything. Those two minutes had felt like two hours and he was worried sick for all 120 seconds that he missed something.

Dave hasn’t tried to say anything to Aaron, though he wants to. It’s heartbreaking to watch Aaron like this.

You’re going to pull through. Dave — and the rest of the team — can’t afford to think otherwise. And they refuse to think otherwise, unable to imagine what it would be like if you weren’t here.

But it seems like Aaron is thinking otherwise.

Truthfully, he is. But he’s thinking about so much more.

You love him. You love him. You love him.

And he was too stunned to say it back. The one chance he had, and it might be gone now. Ripped away. Forever.

He sent you in there. He did this to you. He had his reservations, but the call had already been made. You seemed so sure. You wanted to do this so badly. He didn’t want another fight about him not trusting you because it’s not about his trust for you, it’s about how terrified he was for you.

He’ll never forgive himself for this now. Not ever.

It’s a world he can’t even bear to imagine. One without you in it.

Yet here he is, grappling with the fact that he might not have to imagine it soon. He sent you in there. He knowingly put your life in danger. And now he’ll have to live with the consequences.

+++

Aaron is shaken from his trance by the doctor and a nurse coming in to inform the team that you’re out of surgery and that it went well.

But you’re in the ICU.

“She lost a great deal of blood,” the doctor says gravely. “But we think she’ll pull through. She just needs to be watched closely for the time being.”

Everyone nods silently, not sure of what else to say, other than feeling relief that you’re alive.

“Visiting hours are long over, so I recommend you all get some rest,” the nurse says. “She’s in good hands here.”

“Thank you,” Rossi replies.

The doctor excused himself, but the nurse stayed, offering to answer any extra questions. “Visiting hours start at seven a.m.,” she says first. “And in the ICU, only two visitors are allowed in her room at a time.” She doesn’t voice an apology, but one is in her tone as she glances between the six team members.

“Can I stay?” Hotch blurts out of nowhere. The team member’s heads all turn to look at him in surprise. “Can anyone stay the night, I mean.”

“Uh, yeah,” the nurse nods. “One person can.” Her eyebrows furrow sincerely. “Are you her dad?”

Morgan internalizes a snort.

“No,” Hotch replies kindly. “I’m not, but I’d like to stay. I’m her boss.”

Still the nurse looks skeptical. “Would she be okay with—”

“She’s his girlfriend,” Emily blurts out, tired of waiting. And when Hotch sends her a look, she says, “What? It would’ve taken you hours to say it.”

“Oh,” the nurse chuckles, embarrassed. “I’m so sorry. Yes, of course you can stay.”

Hotch lets a tiny smile shine through, but it’s not much. Truth is, he’s terrified to see you. But leaving you here alone – even if this is a hospital – terrifies him more.

The rest of the team says goodbye to head back to the hotel for some much-needed rest, if they can sleep at all. They know they’ll wake every couple hours to worry about you before sleep consumes them once more.

In the meantime, Hotch will be here to look after you for all of them. You’re like a little sister to the rest of them, even though Morgan is the only one to have voiced that. You’re loved here. Loved more than you’ll ever be able to comprehend.

You’re loved by Aaron much more than he’ll ever be able to articulate to you. But he’ll try. He’ll try to help you see.

+++

Hotch is finally walking to your room in the ICU after another half hour of waiting. The nurse said they had to get everything settled in your room before he could come back, which only made Hotch’s worry spike even more.

But eventually, he’s in your room with you. A pillow and blanket is in the chair by the window, but he’s not paying attention to it.

You. You’re asleep, of course, and probably will be for a few more hours. The nurse said you had already woken up once, but because of the pain medicine and the overall stress your body has been under in the past few hours, you fell back to sleep almost instantly.

Tears well in his eyes at the sight of you, laid up in the hospital bed, IVs and wires all over you. The beeping of the heart monitor is the only real sign to him that you’re even alive. Your chest is rising and falling, but it’s barely visible underneath the gown and blankets and wires.

You have one regular IV placed on the top of your left hand. Some other line is in your upper arm, and another in your wrist. He has no idea what they’re all for, he just knows he hates seeing you connected to so much.

Aaron wipes at his eyes angrily. Does he have a right to be this upset when he’s the one who sent you in there?

He turns and sets the pillow and blankets in the other chair, knowing he won’t sleep tonight even if he wanted to. Instead, he pulls the chair closer to your bed, where he can place his hand next to yours.

And, if you happen to wake up, you can reach for him if you need to.

+++

Three hours pass and you still haven’t woken up. Aaron knows. He’s been watching you the entire time.

The nurses have come to check on you a few times, assuring Aaron that it’s normal for you to be sleeping like this. But he just nods silently.

He wants you to wake up. Just for a minute. He needs you to just open your eyes and look at him, just once. That’s all he needs.

But it’s wishful thinking as the sky begins to lighten, showing the first signs of dawn.

Aaron links his pinky with yours, afraid to do much else and risk messing up your IV. Holding pinky fingers is enough right now. Or at least, it’ll have to be.

“I’m sorry,” he says out loud, to you, or really to no one at all, because he’s not even sure you can hear him. “I’m just so...sorry, Y/N.”

Stupid tears gather in his eyes again, clogging his throat, stopping his words.

But he keeps going.

“It’s my fault,” he says. “And I know you’ll try to convince me that it’s not, but Y/N, it is and I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I let this happen to you.”

He leans his head into the palm of his free hand, tightening his pinky finger’s grip on yours.

“I love you,” he blurts it out, tears warming his palm as they cascade down his cheeks. “I love you and I need you to wake up because I need you to hear it. I love you. I don’t think there’s ever been a day that I’ve known you that I haven’t loved you.”

He sniffles, loud and body-rattling, glad he’s alone in this room with you because he’d never let anyone else see him like this. No one but you.

“I tried to get it out before, but you were already gone, and I— You need to wake up. I need you to wake up. Please.”

Aaron keeps his eyes closed and head down for a few minutes longer. He doesn’t even see that you’ve opened your eyes.

Until your pinky finger gently squeezes his.

He lifts his head quickly, eyes wide and wild when he sees you’re looking back at him, eyes glassy with tears and exhaustion.

And just like that, just seeing your eyes open and looking right at him, the dam breaks once more. He’s a mess of tears when he leans his head down onto the bed. You lift your hand and thread your fingers through his hair, closing your eyes as more tears slip down your cheeks.

You scratch a soothing pattern on the base of his skull, moving your other hand over your body to hold onto his arm. He senses the movement and lifts his head, grabbing your hand and pressing it to his lips.

He’s not sure how long he stays there, all he knows is his back aches when he straightens up again, and you’ve fallen back asleep.

Next chapter

[boldlyanxious]

Pitch Woo

1. old-fashioned To court or seek the affection of someone through romantic gestures or overtures.

Jasonette July prompt 4: game on

Enemies to lovers if you squint

This was supposed to be a throw away prompt that I put no effort into but somehow I ended up putting a lot of energy into it. Please love it

Legal age drinking and questionable song choice

Jasonette July

My masterlist

"Okay and thank you for coming to our Karaoke face off. I'm DJ Carapace and I'll be running the show tonight."

He paused while the crowd cheered.

"For those who haven't been here before, long time patron Marinette has recently been butting heads with Jason who recently returned after a long absence."

Boos came from one section. He didn't recognize them as associated with either of the performers.

"None of that now. Here tonight we love all of our friends the same. The competition tonight is all about the performance. Also giving a performance is Dick back behind the bar. Show him some love and show him the money. Or your money maker. Shake your ass for him. He doesn't discriminate; he loves all asses."

Cheers went up as Dick did a few bottle tossing tricks before Carapace could continue on to explain the rules of the competition. Jason and Marinette start off with a duet chosen by Carapace. He mentioned that they would be singing multiple songs, some that they prepared for and others that would be a surprise before that started. At the end of the singing the voting would be opened up for everyone to choose the winner.

"Starting off with a little magic both singers will show us a Whole New World," Carapace said as he started the music.

"Are you ready for this, Princess? You aren't allowed to magically fall in love with me."

"That should be easy enough. I control all the magic here."

"Do you trust me?"

"Not at all, Street Rat." Marinette said into the mic before he started singing.

She would never admit to anyone how much she loved his voice. It was rich and smooth and he seemed to feel the music as he sang. She put everything she had into her part. This was one of the first songs she learned to sing in English so it was very nostalgic. They both had the same idea when the joined section came up. They turned to face each other and kept eye contact through the last note.

"Well they may be competing but they sound great together too. Next up Marinette chose the song Perfect."

It felt good to start off with a song she knew. Most of them tonight would be a surprise so it was good to start where she was confident. This song worked particularly well because it started soft and then got bolder as it went on. The words were very helpful too. Jason must feel the same way about singing his choice of It's My Life because he was nailing it. The crowd was cheering and Carapace played a Jagged song to give them a break and encourage people to get drinks.

"Alright, bringing us right back into the show Jason and Marinette are going to wow us with the song Senorita."

Both of them were sent shots and drinks during the break. Mostly Marinette wanted water but as the crowd ramped up she and Jason took a shot together for luck. Then Marinette saw the list of songs they were doing and drained her drink quickly. She needed the courage if they were going to put on a show. Putting on the best show is how she would get votes.

Jason didn't feel like he could keep up with her. Her song choices were stellar. He had always loved her range. He had wandered away to take a couple shots to loosen him up. Still when they met back at the stage they took one together before they looked at their set list. He felt a bit better watching her drain her drink after she saw the set list. Maybe it wouldn't be as easy for her as he thought. He allowed the energy of the crowd to flow into him. He could do this. As he watched her start the song, he suddenly remembered how he had actually been interested in Marinette when they first met, but she had gotten very frustrated over something to do with the song choice or order. He couldn’t remember now. It was the first in a long list of times they had butted heads here.

He moved to the beat of the song and started singing. He kept his voice low and sultry and his attention focused on his partner for the evening. He wasn’t sure exactly when it happened but the room and the crowd disappeared. It was just him and her looking at each other and singing. She shimmied around to the song and he reached out for her hand, spinning her until she was against him. He leaned over her shoulder and sang the ooh- la-la-la into her mic. He could feel her tense and suck in a breath before she sang her next section. He swayed her back and for and then spun her around. She did her oohs and then he dipped her down and then back up at the last notes of the song.

She was happy that it was his turn next, singing Fields of Gold. She had to catch her breath. She needed to convince herself that it was from the singing and dancing and not from being so close to him. She sipped on her drink and sat on the provided stool as he moved between singing for the audience and serenading her. As the song was at the final repeating line he pulled her back up and sang directly to her. He bent low and kissed her hand as he passed her the mic.

Marinette started singing the song Only Exception and as she did she circled him before guiding him to the stool. His performance was stellar so she needed to start strong and continue through the whole song. As he had she made sure to sing to the audience and not just him. She wandered down from the stage and near the tables to get the most visibility during the instrumental interlude. She sang the part that picked up right to the crowd before turning to him and walking back to him with determination at the ending lines. At the final line she got very close to him to sing directly at him that she was “on her way to believing”

Next they were singing Landslide as a duet. Marinette loved this one. But it was slightly bitter for her. The first time she met Jason she had put the song in but the old DJ XY said he would save it for her for later in the evening. Jason had arrived after that and when her song came up it was him singing it instead of her. He had done really well but the DJ didn’t like to do repeats so she didn’t get her chance to sing. It hadn’t helped that he had come up and used a terrible line on her and laughed at her reaction.

Jason loved this song. He knew she did it really well too. He had heard her sing it once before. It worked great as a duet for them. They were both able to showcase the best of themselves. Carapace was right, they did sound good together. They took turns with the parts and joined in together at the chorus. They addressed the crowd for the beginning of it but part way through she walked slowly up to him as she was singing. He put his mic to the side and met her in the middle. Something about sharing the mic made it feel more intimate. They were no longer looking out. They were looking right at each other. Her eyes closed during one part and he didn’t seem to be able to stop himself from reaching up and touching her face. She looked up at him as they sang the last line together, drawing it out.

Carapace gave them another break and played a couple other songs before he would call them back up. Alya was ready with a couple waters and people were basically lined up to buy them drinks and shots. Alya told her she was recording the whole thing and would be posting it after, linking back to both of them so they would probably get a lot more traffic on their pages soon. The break went quickly but Marinette was ready to be done with it. The songs were a little more upbeat so it would feel like it was going faster even though it was more songs. She laughed when she saw the first song. She knew Alya picked that one because she had told her how much she liked it but was always too nervous to sing it.

Marinette took another shot while bantering with Jason to get the crowd invested again at the end of the break. She didn’t hold back. She stalked towards Jason channelling all her sexy energy as she started singing Do Not Disturb. She didn’t turn back to the crowd at all. She moved with the song and sang with everything she had and based on the look on his face, he was eating it up. She dared approach him and slid her hand up his chest before seizing his shirt and pulling him to his feet. He moved right along with her. That is what made him a great opponent. He didn’t want to trip her up and win by default. He wanted her at her best and she felt the same. An even playing field so they could get a good gauge of a winner.

Jason could feel her almost groan when she heard the opening of Give Me Everything start. He had played along with her song and she went all out. Now it was his turn. He was pretty tame. Just serenading her and moving to the beat. He could tell she was expecting more though, she moved easily with him when they got to the line “grab somebody sexy tell them hey”. She was ready for it and matched him move for move. He liked it better this way. They may be competing but he was having a blast. He had the sudden thought when he sang the last line "we might not get tomorrow". He put the microphone under her chin and used it to tilt her face up to his. She stared right up at him perfectly. The natural move would be to lean down and kiss her but he didn't think it would be right complete the move.

"Okay guys get ready to vote after this last number here. Their grand finale and then we can go back to your regularly scheduled karaoke until we announce a winner."

Marinette and Jason both took drinks and readied themselves to sing. Jason started out the song Shallow. He didn't bother with the audience. The song was designed as a romantic duet and he loved watching her eyes widen slightly as she looked up at him. He dropped his hand when he finished but during her verse she moved up to him and places her hands on his chest. At the end of that verse she patted his chest before turning to the crowd for the bridge. They came back together to sing the chorus. Without thinking, they moved closer at the end. They were right next to each other and sharing a mic again. He pulled her close to his as the song ended and the crowd cheered. He turned off the mic before asking his next question.

"Are we gonna make the ending a show stopper?"

"I'm already doing that. Try to keep up."

She smirked at him. He spun her around and dipped her low. His face was right in front of hers as he whispered. She could feel his breath by her chin.

"The audience would love a finale. If you think you can handle it."

"I can handle anything you can. Game on." She said.

He was pulling her back to her feet out of the dip. Their eyes never strayed from each other's. As her feet touched the floor, she grasped his collar. He met her halfway pulling her against him. Their lips met as the crowd cheered again. It was meant to be a momentary thing. For the audience. They had both done it for show. But the surge they felt as they kissed was not just because of the crowd. They pulled back but felt the loss even as they stood in each other's arms under the shining lights.

DJ Carapace was announcing how to complete the voting but Marinette couldn't hear anything over the heartbeat thumping in her ears. Maybe Jason felt the same because he guided her back behind the makeshift curtain of the stage. He planted his back against the wall and pulled her flush against him. She didn't expect to crash against him so suddenly but she used the momentum to pull herself to him and resume kissing.

They could find out who won later.

Tags

@jasonette-july-event | @theymakeupfairies | @emjrabbitwolf | @vixen-uchiha | @trythisagainlove | @trippingovermyfeet | @tbehartoo | @adrestar | @zynna

[hobidreams]

october 1865.

you never thought you would smile like this again, but here you are. and here he is, by your side.

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: fluffy fluff words: 5k 😳 contains: historical au, chuseok date!, eunuch kim!, so much cuteness, guest appearances hehe

moonlit throne index. this is drabble 13. start from the beginning?

“How do I look, mom?”

Standing before the mirror, you nervously smooth the delicate sash of the pink hanbok for the hundredth time, careful not to lean down too much and dislocate the floral ornament carefully pinned in your hair. There have been doves fluttering in your stomach the entire afternoon; you don’t know if you tied this correctly or if your hair is braided right, and you can’t ask any of your nearby neighbours for fear of discovery that your plans are different than theirs tonight. Mother would know exactly what to do and what to say to make you feel at ease. But want you want most is for her to see you all grown up like this. Finally able to properly wear the outfit you coveted for so long, and hold your head high in it too. You think she’d be proud.

You manage a smile as you run your fingertips along the edge of the ornament, a gift from mother on your twelfth birthday. It’s almost been a year since her passing, and you still miss her more than anything. But you also know now that the best way to honor her is to be happy, and to carry on her work, her legacy. So far, you’ve begrudgingly won a few scraps of respect from the male physicians, and it’s a start.

“I hope you’re doing well up there,” you say, letting your gaze drift out the window to the beaming Chuseok moon, hoping the wind might take your words and your love all the way to her.

“Hey. Are you ready?”

You are grateful that the door is closed because the way you snap to attention is frankly embarrassing.

"Yes, just a moment, seja-jeonha!" you say in a nervous half-whisper, half-exclamation as you allow yourself one last glimpse at the mirror. This is going to be fine. You're going to be relaxed and have a good time, even if you are sneaking out of the palace with arguably the second most important person in the country.

Putting on a smile that hopefully looks effortless, you pull open the door and practically gasp out loud at the sight of him.

It's perhaps the first time you've seen the prince out of the traditional royal robes. It's an excellent disguise -- the clothes of a young yangban lord, done in a deep-dyed scarlet that contrasts his usual navy. A cinched belt fastens the coat deftly, juxtaposed against the dragging, silky sleeves beside it, making him seem somehow more elegant in the way he holds himself. Completing the look is the gat that sits atop his head, its wide-brim tilted low so it covers enough of his face that he wouldn't be recognized, at least not to anyone who spared him a passing glance (not that they would know his face to begin with). The gat strap hangs low in front of his chest, the intricate beading betraying just how truly expensive this hat is. He is, in short, unfairly, unfathomably handsome.

You are forever grateful that you chose to dress up; if nothing else, at least you will look suitable standing next to him, at least for a night.

If Yoongi thinks anything of your outfit, he covers it with a slight cough, his cheeks faintly reddened from the cold. “Good. Come on. We have to be quick.”

You nod, following him out into the night air.

With swift steps and strategic maneuvering, it doesn't take you long to reach one side of the imposing wall that separates palace from town. There, you find a familiar face waiting for you.

"Good evening," Eunuch Kim says with a bow. He’s wearing a different, muted set of green robes and donned a gat as well. “As you instructed, the select guards have been informed to keep quiet, and all else has been taken care of. Let us go."

He likely insisted on coming, as one of the caveats for your illicit excursion. You don't mind, since this isn't the first time he's had to do such a thing, always so worried about his rebellious, stubborn charge. You watch as he lets Yoongi go past first, then gestures for you.

“You look lovely tonight, uinyeo-nim,” Eunuch Kim says, and you share a small, furtive smile that feels like he’s cheering you on. Then you step past the official gates, feeling so acutely the pattering of your pulse because this is truly happening.

For the first handful of minutes, you remain both terrified and anticipatory that you'll be snatched back by the royal guard and accused of kidnapping the prince or something equally ridiculous as being on an actual outing with him. Beside you, Yoongi doesn't seem to have these worries as he walks by your side (though still a respectful, proper distance apart), letting his arms slightly swing while he kicks up dust with his slippers.

Just as you're wondering if you're being an awful companion and not making conversation, he says, "haven't been outside the palace in ages."

“Me too. It's… a little strange, having all this freedom to roam and do what I want. Even if it’s just for a night.”

“I'll say.” Yoongi makes an exasperated noise. “There are too many rules in that place. Can't do anything without being watched.” He gives a minor tilt of his head towards your chaperone, though it's more a tease rather than actually spiteful. Eunuch Kim, for his own sake, pretends not to see or hear the jab.

You smile. “It's for your safety, seja-jeonha.”

“So they say. But they'll regret it when I die of boredom first.”

He rolls his eyes and you laugh, and the palpitations in your stomach ease just like that.

As you draw ever closer to the town, the harmony of string and wind instruments crescendo and build with the jubilant chatter of the townspeople. It's getting to you in the best of ways; you're becoming so elated at the prospect of the festivities that you start to speed up, soon practically rushing towards the town square at a pace that forces Yoongi and Eunuch Kim to run to follow.

"…Wow!"

At the base of the square, your entire face brightens with the wondrous sight unfolding before you. There are people everywhere. Some down celebratory alcohol, others munch on sweet treats, and more still singing along to the traditional folk tunes with robust vibrato, regardless of whether they’re on key or not. You can’t find a single frown amidst all this mirth, and that’s just the way you like it. It’s overwhelming: the sights, the sounds, and the mouthwatering smell of something delicious and fried.

Yoongi eventually jogs up to you, forced to inhale a few quick breaths to refill his lungs. “Are you that hungry?” He asks, the corner of his lips curling up.

Oh god, you just made the prince run.

"No...! Not at all! I’m deeply sorry, seja-jeonha. I got too excited, didn’t I?”

“Not at all. Shall we get something to eat first then?”

You avert your eyes, though you really haven’t had dinner tonight. “No, please. Let us do what you would like.”

Yoongi grins as if it is of no consequence. “What I want? Well, then, I want to go this way.”

As is his habit, he begins to walk in the direction he chooses without notice, though this time he has to weave through the people that crowd the area. His disguise is working well; he is largely ignored as he passes, leading your little group all the way to an open alleyway where stalls line each side, lit up with lamps and vividly colored banners.

A twinge of sadness squeezes your heart as you look at the spread. You faintly remember a decade ago that there used to be a full row of assorted delicacies and sweets for purchase; now it’s mostly merchants with tables of books and hairpins, food becoming too scarce for most to sell with the grain shortage, even if they need the funds. Still, everyone seems to be doing their best with what they’ve got.

Sudden shouts ring out right beside you, nearly blowing your ears out with how loud they are.

“Jeon! Freshly fried shrimp and fish jeon for sale!”

“Hot, hot, hot nokdujeon over here!”

“Gaah!” you exclaim, eyes wide. You wouldn’t be surprised if the monks up the mountain heard about this jeon! When you turn to see who the hell is making all this commotion, you’re met with the scowling faces of two men, glaring furiously at each other in-between tending to their sizzling pans in adjacent stalls. The bearded one looks about seconds away from giving the other younger man a good smack with the fishing rod leaning on the wall behind him.

Said younger man gives a snicker. “No wonder my sales are beating yours. Why would anyone want your shrimp when they could have my delicious mung beans?”

“Say that again, if you dare.”

“Why would anyone want your gross shrimp when—”

“Yah, you can take your beans and shove them right up your nasty sokgot—”

“Excuse me,” Yoongi cuts in between them with a smirk. “I’ll take two orders of each. Preferably not ones shoved anywhere.” He drops coins on both counters, more than enough to cover the food.

“Ahem.” They levy two very similar glares at each other before beginning to package the orders for consumption, switching to polite honorifics in the process. “Yes, sir!”

“Right away, sir!”

They work deftly, obviously very practiced in the art. Neither of them drop so much as a crumb, even though they seem to be racing.

"My lord, here is your order," Fish Jeon says, only to be roughly shoved aside by Mung Bean in a rush to hand over the goods first.

"Please enjoy, sir!"

Yoongi takes the round and crispy nokdujeon, all wrapped in parchment paper. His amused chuckling makes you feel a little warmer, a bit fonder than you should. Especially when he then promptly passes the package to you.

"Seja--" You cut yourself off before you make the mistake. "Um. My lord, this is for me?" You ask, even though you're practically drooling at the scent.

"Did I give it to someone else? Eat."

He turns, hands off one of the assorted jeon plates to Eunuch Kim behind him, who accepts gratefully with a bow.

You, and your stomach, don’t need to be told twice. After blowing on the golden batter, you take a generous bite, accidentally smearing a bit of it on your cheek in the process but god, it tastes incredible. Mung Bean may be loud, but he clearly doesn’t tell lies. You have to hold yourself back from inhaling the pancake whole, instead savoring each nibble on your tongue.

“Come on. Keep going before the crowd grows,” Yoongi says, urging you forward with a jerk of his chin before biting into his own pancake. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile this much before, and it’s with slight regret that you tear your eyes away to look where you’re going.

From behind you as you start to walk, you hear, "Jungkook, you brat, shouldn't you be more respectful to your elders?!"

"Whatever, hyungnim. Nokdujeon! Better-than-his-fish nokdujeon!"

There is a very distinctive thwap as you move into the merchant area.

The first booth you come to belongs to a woman that you recognize, selling the latest romance novel by a rising author, Taehyun. She recognizes you too, waving you over with enthusiasm. “Oh, hello! We just received this last week. A tale of forbidden love between a yangban lady and a fisherman! Full of tension and…” she lowers her voice conspiratorially, “more than a few kisses!”

“Do people actually read things like this?” Yoongi mutters, staring at the covers.

“Huh? No! Well, hah, I certainly don’t!” You hope your face looks plausibly innocent. “But thank you,” you turn to say to the woman before hurriedly walking on before she can expose your ruse. The prince doesn’t need to know about the precious books you keep in a secret stash in your room. A lady can’t only study all day, right?

(You make a mental note to come back to town and pick up a copy later.)

Down the row you go, reluctantly finishing off the pancake on the way. Yoongi hands you the entire second plate of jeon not long after. “I don’t want it,” he says, watching you brighten at the prospect of more food. He does end up stealing a piece of shrimp from within your grasp later, throwing it casually into his mouth before you can even react.

The next display to really catch your attention is one laden with delicately handcrafted ornaments, pins, bracelets, and perfumes. “Wow!” You gush, leaning over the table as you try to calculate how much money you brought with you because you want it all, even though you rarely have the occasion to dress up. Still, you want at least something as a keepsake, to hold your memories of this precious day. Yoongi stops and waits for you; you forget it should be the other way around.

“Oh my, Eun-a-ssi? Is that you?”

What? You look up, breath hitched.

“Oh, my apologies.” The woman behind the booth is elderly, her hair grey, eyes wrinkling warmly as she smiles. “My mistake. My eyesight isn’t what it was. You… look a lot like a woman I know. I haven’t seen her in a long time now.”

“Eun-a… Eun-a was my mother,” you murmur. “She passed away last year.”

The woman’s eyes widen as she clutches her hands to her chest. “She did? Oh… Oh no… I’m so sorry, child. Then you must be—” She thinks for a moment, then says your name. You nod, and a small smile slips back on her lips, though now tinged with sadness. You know the feeling. “My name is Hong Sook-ja. I used to live right here in town with Eun-a-ssi, until all those years ago when she moved into the palace and I moved to the countryside. Your mother used to bring you into town for Chuseok and we got to know each other then. These days, I just come back every once in a while to see my granddaughter and great-grandson, so I must have missed the news.”

“It’s alright, Sook-ja-ssi. Mom lived well,” you say, ignoring the twinge in your chest. Any glimpse into mother’s life before she had you fills you with a certain homesickness, alongside the joy. “She was happy. And I’m sure she’d be happy to know that you are living well too.”

“Good. Good. She deserved happiness.” Sook-ja sighs, letting the information sink in. Only after one last kind smile does she finally seem to notice Yoongi standing beside you, trying his best not to intrude. “Now, is this handsome lord your companion? Perhaps your betrothed?”

“N-No!” You immediately cry, not wanting Yoongi to misunderstand, to think that his rank could be dragged so low as to match yours. Sook-ja should know that these class lines, even between yangban and cheonmin, are not so easily crossed. But the mischief in her gaze seems to suggest she doesn’t care much about that. “No, we’re just out. Together.”

“Yes. Out. Together,” Yoongi echoes, just as the door behind Sook-ja starts to open with a noisy creak.

A young woman dressed in a pretty hanbok steps out of the house with a smile. “Grandma, are you interrogating the customers again… Oh, hey! Kim-nim!”

All three of you turn your heads to look at Eunuch Kim, who couldn’t look more surprised at the woman’s appearance if Yoongi started growing a tail. He flusters, stepping back as if that could protect him. “Ahh, Chun-ja-ssi…! You’re, um, here! And you look, wow—” He almost drops the last piece of jeon altogether. “I was not expecting you to be here— I mean, not that I was thinking of you being elsewhere— Uh, not that I think about you that often—”

“This is my granddaughter,” Sook-ja explains, saving the poor man. “Chun-ja. She and her son, Han-jae, are the best parts of my life. She’s so clever, she can even read and write, you know!”

Chun-ja flushes under the praise. “My grandmother likes to exaggerate. But it’s very nice to meet you both,” she says, bowing in greeting as Sook-ja excuses herself, exiting through the same door.

Yoongi is once again smirking. “So, how do you know Kim-nim?”

“Mm, it was about two years ago? I was helping one of the merchants bring grain into the palace. Kim-nim saw me struggling with a particularly heavy pot, and so he helped me carry it. Since then, we chat for a bit every time he’s in town on an errand, and exchange the occasional letter! When he remembers to write me back, that is. Though his letters are often so lovely that I don’t mind the wait.” Chun-ja offers Eunuch Kim a grin that he can’t quite return with ease.

Yoongi has to work hard to keep his face relatively straight as he says, “hmm. So that is why he’s always disappearing from the palace with those weak excuses? And using all that ink? He always said it was for something important.”

“Seja— My lord! Please!” Spare me, Eunuch Kim’s wilted expression pleads. You have to hide your amusement behind a hand, lest you burst out with inappropriate laughter.

Once again, Sook-ja comes to the rescue as she shuffles out of the house, holding two familiar objects that make your eyes light up. “You’re both in luck. I knew we had a few extra this year, even after that rascal great-grandson of mine ruined a few with his roughhousing. He’d still be causing trouble if he weren’t off with his friends right now.” Sook-ja sighs. “I wish my grandson were still around to scold him. But anyway, I’d be happy if you’d take them!”

“Wish lanterns!” You exclaim, taking the lightly orange cloth contraption with glee. “Oh, I haven’t seen these up close in years.” The palace celebrations don’t usually include them, leaving you to try and catch the sight of the tiny, almost imperceptible lights floating into the sky from so far away. You’ve always loved the thought of the lamps surging towards that boundless sky, endlessly drifting, free to follow the wind.

“Do you know how to start it?” Chun-ja asks. You shake your head. “Let me show you.”

As Chun-ja explains the mechanisms behind the lantern to you, Yoongi reaches for his coin pouch. “We must give you something in exchange.” Yoongi produces several mun coins that are at least five times the lanterns’ actual worth, and tries to give them to her.

Sook-ja pushes his hand away. “No, no, it’s a present!”

“I insist.” Yoongi tries again, only to be rejected, again. He wonders if she would be so obstinate if she knew who he really was. (Probably yes.) “Alright… What if I take another item from the table to make it a fair trade?”

“Stubborn, aren’t you?” Sook-ja bursts into laughter, her belly shaking beneath her skirt. “Fine. Take your pick!”

Yoongi barely scans the accessories; he snatches up the bracelet you were looking at before and tucks it into his jeogori with a secret smile. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Sook-ja says warmly, before her smile dips down conspiratorially. “It’ll look good on her. Anyway, have fun! Enjoy the night.”

“I’m sure we will.” Yoongi shifts his attention to you. “All done? Then let’s keep going.”

“Yes, my lord,” you say, happily clutching the lanterns. “Thank you so much, Sook-ja-ssi. Chun-ja-ssi.”

Chun-ja beams. “Our pleasure. I hope we see each other in town again soon. And Kim-nim, don’t forget your letters!”

“Yes, of course, I will. I mean, I won’t. Forget, that is. Uh, I’ll write. G-Goodbye.” Eunuch Kim bows twice in quick succession before hurrying after you two, trying his best not to look back for one last glimpse of what he’s left behind.

You continue your wandering through the rest of the festival, marveling at the sheer strength of the wrestlers and then the elegance of the dancers. Absently, you wish this atmosphere could stay in place forever, and that everything else could just vanish into the smoke and ash of the burning campfires, but you know too well that life is a balance. And right now, with the prince’s silky sleeve pressed almost right against yours as you walk past a chorus of singers, the scales have temporarily tipped in your favor.

Eventually, all your wandering takes you to almost the outskirts of town, to an area you visited before with your mother. It takes some squinting but you eventually recognize the obscure path among the bushes, and immediately gesture towards it. The prince has shown you so much tonight; you want to return the favor, especially since his steps are beginning to slow. “This way! Please come with me.”

“Are you sure this is safe?” Eunuch Kim calls. “We cannot let anything happen to our lord!”

You start down the road. “Completely!”

It’s been so long since you last took these steps, but it all comes back to you effortlessly as you take the lead. It takes a few minutes, just a few, to reach the clearing you seek. And it is exactly as you remember it — the nature growing with a wild, greedy virility, the oddly shaped rocks studded in the dirt, and the reflecting pond, its water rippling from the drag of the autumn wind across its surface. There is no one here, which is exactly how you expected it to be.

“Here it is, seja-jeonha.”

“It’s quiet,” he marvels, and steps further in. He stops at the edge of the pond, staring not down but out, at the reflection of the full moon in its depths.

“I thought that you could use a change of environment. You look a little tired.” At this point, you know him well enough to tell that the neutrality of his expression shows subtle signs of weariness.

“The noise. It can be overwhelming at times. I’m not used to so much of it, usually. But I like the songs.”

You nod. “I understand perfectly! That’s why mom took me here in the first place. It used to be her secret spot when she was growing up.”

His arms shift, sleeves brushing the sides of his jacket. “She was a kind woman.”

“Very much so.”

You feel the breeze swiftly pick up, weaving through the strands of hair that have come loose from your up-do. The curling leaves around you rustle with welcome relief, bathing in the atmosphere, the rare tranquility of such a beautiful evening.

“Shall we float the lanterns?” You suggest after a spell.

“Sure.” Yoongi indicates for Eunuch Kim to bring the lanterns over. “Matches?”

Eunuch Kim fumbles in his robes for a few seconds before he realizes with a start that they’re just not there. “My apologies!” He bows. “I must have left the matches back at the booth!”

Yoongi sighs. “Too distracted by Chun-ja-ssi, hm?” Eunuch Kim flushes. “Go get them then.”

“But to leave you alone—”

“I’m not alone.”

Eunuch Kim looks between the prince and you a few times in rapid succession, his thoughts evidently as wavering as his eyes. He finally lands back on the prince.

“…Understood. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

You both watch him go, the quick pace of his steps no doubt brought on by anticipation.

“I can’t believe he’s been involved with a woman without any of us knowing,” Yoongi says, his tone betraying his real fondness.

“It’s sweet.” You smile, wondering if Eunuch Kim will ever manage to stop the stuttering long enough to actually tell Chun-ja how much he appears to like her. He is a mature man with most aspects, but apparently you’ve happened upon his one sole weakness. “But… He’ll probably be gone for a while. We won’t be able to light the lanterns.”

“I thought as much when I told him to go.”

“Well, it’s nice to take a break.” You don’t mention that you’d probably go anywhere and do anything, even if it’s just sitting around waiting, if it was with him. Instead, you look down at the pond, the water stilling enough for there to be a slightly blurry reflection of yourself awaiting below. “Hm. The water’s gotten a bit murkier these years. It used to be clear enough to see perfectly in. But it’s not so bad! Come look!”

Yoongi does. His pale face, all dark eyes and that rough, obvious scar, appears beside yours.

You fully intended on saying something else but that thought falls clear out of your mind when you realize just how undone your hair has become in all the bustle of the celebrations. I look like a mess, you think in a panic, hurriedly feeling for the strands to tuck them back. You’ve only managed to get one side fixed when a rock comes flying out of nowhere, plunging into the water with a noisy thunk! It disturbs both your reflections and wrecks the temporary mirror as cold droplets splash back.

“Hey!” You cry, leaping back from the pond to Yoongi’s grin. “What was that for?”

He has the audacity to look innocent. “Nothing. Haven’t you ever skipped rocks?”

“That was more a throw than a skip,” you grumble, checking your skirt as you hope it didn’t take too much damage. Thankfully, only a few drops actually landed on the precious fabric. “But yes, I love skipping rocks. Properly.”

“Here then.” You open your palm at Yoongi’s behest and he drops a stone into it. “Show me how to do it properly.”

You accept the challenge and plant one foot behind you, staring down a point in the middle of the pond, angling your arm as you position the stone in your hand. You most definitely look the part of an expert as you let the thing go. It shoots towards the water at a rapid speed, whooshing right through the air like a tiny bullet as it hits the surface at the angle and then proceeds to instantly sink to the bottom like, well, a rock.

Yoongi’s raucous laugh is no less than a roar, his entire body wracked with the exertion as he practically doubles over. He only gets louder when he sees the embarrassment on your face, the absolute mortification.

“I never said I was good at it…” You mutter, deciding to try a second time. This rock plummets right down to the watery floor too, refusing to save you even a little bit of face.

Yoongi’s settled into an infuriatingly smug look. “So, you can’t actually skip a stone. But you still love doing it?”

“That’s right.”

“Why?” He effortlessly makes a single skip before his pebble capsizes.

“I have a theory.” His curiosity piques at that; a turn of his head. “That it’s not up to us if the rock skips or not. Even if we have all the technique in the world,” you pick up another stone, “if the wind just happens to blow a bit harder, or if a fish from beneath disturbs the rhythm, or even if the tides themselves decide to surge up… It’ll fail. Or only skip the once. But—” You clutch the rock tightly in your hand and feel the weight, the cold, steady shape. “But if we wish hard enough. If we just keep trying every time we have the opportunity again and again…” This time, your rock is truly flying as it smacks the rippling water and skips a miraculous four times before finally dropping into the deep. “The universe might just make it happen.”

“…Or you need more practice.”

You shrug. “I’d rather believe that there are some things in the world simply out of our control. But that we can still hope for those things to shift, to change for the better if we never give up.”

Yoongi falls silent, staring at the ground through his downcast, delicate eyelashes. Maybe you said too much, you think. You didn’t mean to ramble. It’s just something you’ve thought about often. For these past months, it’s been the only thing keeping you going on the hardest, loneliest days. But you’ve made it. You’re still here. And by some miracle, he’s right here with you.

(You think maybe this is happiness.)

“I like that.” His eyes flick up to meet yours with an intensity that says he’s listening. He’s contemplating your thoughts and taking you seriously. He rubs the back of his neck, scratching at an invisible mark. “It’s a good theory. I… I understand it.”

There’s a weight to those words that you feel in the pit of your heart. A pull that draws you to him like the reckless tides towards his moon – a gravitational longing to know what truth vibrates beneath. You wonder if he feels it too.

“Seja-jeonha, I’ve returned!”

Eunuch Kim comes rushing back into the clearing, wielding the packet of matches. You both turn to him, letting the moment be whisked away with the wind whipping past the emerald robes, though you keep it safe in your memories. The eunuch has brought ink and brushes too, for you to write your wishes on the fabric itself. Increases the chance of their coming true, or so the legend goes.

After a few swishes of the brush, it doesn’t take long to light the fires. Your darkly inked characters are lit up by the flame, flickering staunchly beneath the opening as you each clutch a lantern in your hands and look at each other.

“What are you wishing for?” Yoongi asks.

“For more jeon,” is your reply, followed by an easy laugh that he echoes.

Then you let the lantern go as he does — two firebirds soaring side by side into the twinkling night.

a/n: *cue Can You Feel the Love Tonight playing softly in the background even though it hasn’t been invented yet*. hope you’re all enjoying sweet Yoon 🥺

[egyptsblackrose]

Dancing with Strangers

This is by far the longest chapter, hopefully I’ve tied all the loose ends and come to a decent conclusion. Stay tuned fro more fics.

Part 1 - https://egyptsblackrose.tumblr.com/post/648370506842701824/a-rose-by-any-other-name

Part 5 -https://egyptsblackrose.tumblr.com/post/654891313044635648/dancing-with-strangers-there-will-be-one-more-part

Part 6- The end, enjoy!

It had been eight months since your first meeting with Gojo Satoru and Kakashi Hatake. This had been the longest relationship either men had ever had, both as a three or on their own. It was also painfully clear how absolutely in love both men were with you, and you with them. The change in the three of you was as clear as day, never had anyone seen each of you so happy - is what you constantly heard from everyone you knew, and when you ran into a friend or relative of theirs… with a few exceptions.

The truth had come out about a month in that Gojo was the one with all the money. A ‘representative of his household’ had come to the apartment to visit and go over ‘matters concerning the family’. Satoru had been so laid back through the whole thing, smirking mockingly at the clearly uncomfortable (stuck up) old butler. He’d grabbed your waist as you were walking towards the door to leave, pulling you down and into his lap. It became clear that he wanted to mess with the man opposite him, even Kakashi seemed in on it because he kissed you sweetly as he walked passed.

Gojo wasn’t able to hide his bitterness when the man finally left though, burying his head into your neck and hugging you tightly. His father had been a politician and his mother a CEO of a successful company, he still had connections because of them and shares that were doing incredibly well. Not to mention their life insurance had been enough to set anyone for life.

“It’s not like I was close to them to begin with.” He’d muttered in a bored manner when you’d teared up at the mention of a Satoru toddler being left alone, surrounded by people who wanted to use him for money, power and influence. The butler was a man hired by his fathers old political party and the other share holders at his mothers company. They apparently weren’t best pleased with him settling for being a small time policeman, had hoped to mould him into their puppet to keep both their money making schemes going.

To cheer the three of you up, Gojo had taken the three of you on a spontaneous trip to an Onsen that one of his friends owns, up in the middle of no where. The beautiful, traditional building with modern interior was nestled on the side of a frigging mountain that could only be reached through a thick, ancient forest.

You were the only three guests, and the workers were even excused for the evening, so it felt like you were the only three in the world with the next person been miles away. Which you were insanely grateful for. Because Kakashi and Gojo had made it a completion between them on who could make you scream the loudest.

Three months later, Kakashi had appeared out of no where behind you while you were cooking dinner, wrapping his arms round you gently and kissing your neck soothingly. “Would you join me for a day out tomorrow?”

“Of course I will,” You giggled, shivering as his lips ghosted over the marks on your neck and shoulders, drawing invisible lines like he was drawing constellations. “Where are we going?”

Hatake was silent for a moment before he squeezed you tighter. “I’m going to introduce you to my father.”

To say you were nervous was an understatement, you had agonised over the right outfit for hours the night before, asking both Miku and Sakura for their help. You should have known better, they had spent the majority of the time gushing over your boyfriends and how serious it was getting between you. After all, no one had ever heard of the two most wanted bachelors introducing their conquests to their family and friends, or even going on trips with their lovers, let alone keeping their interest this long.

Finally settling on one of your favourite outfits; something simple, comfortable and trendy, you kept your make-up light and as natural as possible and called yourself ready. Meeting at their apartment, you were surprised to see Kakashi in his policeman formal uniform. God the man looked dashing. Wearing white gloves, black dress shoes, a smart navy suit, light blue tie, hat tucked under his arm and a smirk on his handsome face.

“Enjoying the view baby?” He teased.

You nodded dumbly, bitting your lip to try hide your smirk. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more handsome, you have to go devastate my heart like that.”

“Maybe me and Sato should wear these tonight then.” The suggestion had your thighs clenching, suddenly it was hard to swallow. Hatake chuckled lazily having seen your reaction. “Later baby girl, for now, we have somewhere to go.”

The cemetery was the LAST place you were expecting this day to take you. Kakashi stopped at his fathers tome stone and saluted. It was at least two decades since his fathers death. Kakashi Sakumo, Hatake’s father, had been a respected police detective, and his whole inspirational drive to become a policeman. When Hatake was young, his father had led a team in a drug bust against some of the biggest names in the Yakuza, but had chosen to save his men’s lives rather than capture the villains when things had gone wrong.

The ‘failure’ was a black mark against his name, and soon his was shunned by the media, his fellow detectives and the whole police force. The abuse became so bad, that he took his own life. From then on, Hatake had lived and grown up with Gojo who he was already inseparable with.

“For the longest time…I blamed him too.” Kakashi admitted quietly, holding onto your hand like a life line. “He had a duty to take those dangerous men off the streets, to make the city a safer place for the public, for kids who were in danger of either being hooked onto drugs or joining gangs. Instead he chose to save the lives of his team.” You were silent, what could you possibly say to ease his pain? “But now…” Hatake raised his head with a proud smile. “My views have changed. He didn’t want to chase glory, he just wanted to do the right thing and save lives. In that moment, they needed him, he saw that and did his best. He was willing to die for his men, he didn’t want to see all those family’s mourning for lives he could have spared. I can only hope that one day, I will be as brave as him.”

You are not ashamed to say you cried, standing there looking at the grave of the man who had made Hatake into the man he was. Into the man you loved. You bowed deeply and gave your thanks, promising out loud to take care of his son for as long as you were allowed. Kakashi’s own eyes watered at this as he pulled you close. You don’t know how long you stood there holding each other for, but it didn’t feel like long enough. Part of you thought it would never be enough when it came to the two amazing men who looked at you like you were their whole world.

After the visit, Kakashi had taken you to the old, more traditional part of town so you could go to his favourite restaurant. The two of you were the first to arrive and the last to leave, laughing so much to the point where you were both in tears. It was so light and care free, and you could see the weight just lift off of Hatake’s shoulders.

And when you both finally made it back to their apartment, Gojo was sat on the sofa waiting. Smirking. Also in uniform. That night, not one of you slept.

With your hands locked together in cuffs and blindfold around your eyes, you shook like a leaf in the wind as Kakashi took you from behind, Gojo at your front. If it had been anyone else trying to blindfold you and tie you up, you would have absolutely said no. As it was, Kakashi loved seeing you so vulnerable. So much so that he had stretched your arse as he’d enthusiastically eaten you out, and was now taking advantage of his VERY thorough prep work. He held a vibrator to your clit as he fucked your arse, Gojo keeping your mouth open and busy as he kissed you hungrily so they could hear your moans, squeezing and playing with your tits as he took your front just as roughly.

Not only did you squirt first time, your pretty sure you blacked out for a second. Not that the boys were deterred, they knew you’d tell them if it became too much. Besides, the sounds you were making; the moans, the wet squelching from how wet you were, it was the best yet. You couldn’t walk the next day though and had to ask Miku to record your lecture.

By the fifth month, Gojo and Kakashi had broached the idea of you moving in with them. It was a casual comment made in light conversation one Sunday morning, when they FIRST brought it up. Then it was Kakashi suggesting you keep more of your things with them, mostly because you would ask them to take you back to your apartment with the girls so you could get ready for the day, meaning you would leave earlier than they would like. Eventually Gojo decided they were being too subtle and would cling to you in the mornings, begging you to not leave and to stay with them.

“You guys remember that I’m living with two roommates already right? I can’t just up and leave them like that, they won’t be able to afford rent!”

“But beautifu~l! We want you here with us!”

“What our idiot means to say baby-”

“Hey!”

“Is that, you already spend so much time here, and we love having you with us. Our apartment is even closer to your Uni building! It makes sense surely, for you to move in with us. Or for us even to find a place together-”

“Wow, ok slow down there!” You butt in quickly, cheeks turning pink. Finally the boys had had enough of dancing around the subject and had sat you down to talk about it properly. Talking about moving into their lush apartment was one thing, but talking about a place together, was something else entirely!

Gojo pouted at you in annoyance. “What, you don’t want to live with us?”

“I’m not saying that!” You defended instantly, frowning at him. “I’m saying it’s a BIG step, and I get that you guys feel ready for it, but I don’t ok? For one, five months isn’t that much time dating someone, second, I don’t even have a job yet! And don’t tell me money isn’t an issue and I don’t have to pay rent cause God help me Satoru, I will get up and leave right now.” You threatened.

“Ok you two, lets take a deep breath and talk about this calmly ok?” Hatake soothed, squeezing both your hands. “Baby, if you don’t feel ready then that’s fine, we will not force you. But please know that when you ARE ready, we WANT you here. Ok?” Nodding in understanding, you started to relax. Gojo huffed and crossed his arms, but nodded in agreement. “And about you looking for a job and paying rent. We are not trying to baby you or the like, we just want to take care of you. We know you can take care of yourself but that wont stop us from WANTING to take care of you because you are YOURS. Understand? We love and cherish you, and if we can help you, we want to. If it was us in a difficult situation and you could help us, you would, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course, in a heartbeat.” You muttered with a slight pout.

Kakashi beamed. “It’s the same in our eyes.” And that had been the end of that…for the time being that is.

Just short of the six month mark, you had agreed to go out again with the girls for a night out. Kakashi and Gojo had encouraged you to go, promising that when they were done with their shift, they would come pick you up. They had even bought you a gift voucher for your birthday to buy a new outfit. You had been sure to send the boys a flattering pic of yourself all dolled up before you had left for the night, receiving such thirsty replies that no one would guess that you had spent the night before with them.

The night had been going perfectly, once again you were the most sober of the group, which you were now used to. You had a nice buzz going, there had already been so many laughs and the girls were excitedly giggling about the stories you shared on your boyfriends. (Of course the intimate, personal things you kept to yourself.) You had been to a few bars and your group agreed to end the night at the club you had met your boys in, ‘The Ninja Shrine’. Texting the two policemen still on shift, you let them know that you and your friends had arrived safely, were going to order your drinks and you would be eagerly waiting for them for a dance.

Gojo replied with multiple winky, smirky, and red with sweat drop faces. Kakashi was the only one to give you a verbal reply, promising to be there as soon as they could, and ‘ordering’ you to behave until they arrived. It made you smile, biting your lip. ‘No promises’ was your reply with a winky face, locking your phone and ignoring the bings that followed, knowing that would rile them up more than a reply.

Despite the clear teasing, you stayed against the bar, talking and laughing with your friends as you sipped at your drink. The girls did try convince you to dance with them at one point, but you were waiting a certain pair to join you. After all, dancing with the girls was fun, but it was even better when you had certain pairs of eyes on your body.

“Oh shit,” Miku cursed, suddenly grabbing your arm and turning you away from the door.

“What the hell-?”

“Don’t turn around!” Miku earned, holding onto your shoulders. “One of your boys’s old flings is here, and trust me you don’t want anything to do with her.” Looking subtly out of the corner of your eyes, you saw a pretty strawberry blonde with soft brown eyes and a confident smirk. You could clearly see her figure through her flashy outfit, her expensive designer shoes and handbag on show like she was on the Paris run way. “She was with them for four months, her names Claire Aoki, and she’s a psycho if you ask me.” Miku continued carefully.

Before you could react, the door opened once more and in came your two boyfriends, looking like sex on legs. Gojo wore a flashy designer get up with black jeans and dress shoes, a blue shirt and a leather jacket that you knew for a fact cost more than your joint rent with the girls. Kakashi was also in black dress shoes, black dress pants, a dark grey shirt and a lighter grey silk vest. Their eyes landed on you immediately and began smiling. You smiled back, beaming when they started heading your way.

They hadn’t made it two steps before they were stopped by Claire, her red manicured-nailed hands resting on their chests as she leaned in towards them, pressing her chest into their arms. Kakashi looked panicked, eyes widening as his eyes darted up towards you, then down to her and back. Gojo’s smile shrunk, it was still there, but it looked much more forced now as his blue eyes narrowed at the other woman.

Curious, and not worried at all, you leaned back against the bar. You turned to make yourself look as relaxed as possible, replicating the same look you had the night they had pulled you away from your friends to charm the pants off of you. Your head tilted and your smile grew as their eyes kept on drifting to you. Whatever Claire was saying clearly wasn’t keeping their attention.

Your smile turned to a smirk as Beast by Mia Martina started playing, slowly pushing off the bar as you headed to the dance floor, your friends following. Closing your eyes, you let the music take you away, body rolls moving slow, deliberate. You caught their eyes by dancing for yourself, but now you knew their weaknesses, the parts of you that they loved to tease and squeeze, you knew their bodies like you knew your own. And you fully intended to use that to your advantage.

“Keep your eyes on me,” You sang, looking both men dead in the eyes, smirking as their gazes struggled to meet yours, roaming your form hungrily like they hadn’t seen you in months. “Come here right now,” You continued, your hands reaching out to them, beckoning them to you. “Cause when the sun goes down the beast comes out,” Dropping to the floor, you straightened your legs so you were bent in half, slowly coming up and curving your back as you flipped your hair back gracefully.

“Take you down, down can you keep it up all night,” Smirking, you spun slowly as you exaggerated your hip swaying, making sure they got an eye full of your behind. “You all over my skin, I’m anxious, paint my body boy’s I’ll be your canvas.” Your head snapped back, showcasing all their bruises that they left from the night before.

Next thing you knew, two sets of hands were gripping you tight, one set on your hips and another on your upper thighs. “Da~nm Beautiful!” Gojo growled lowly into your ear, your grin stretching as you giggled, Kakashi ducking his head to bite your neck. “First you ignore us, then you go and put on a show like that for anyone to see. What are you trying to do, hu? You just want us to bend you over our knees don’t you?”

“Maybe I do,” You teased. “Or maybe I’m trying to prove a point to someone who was getting too handsy with what wasn’t theirs.”

“Oh? Someone was getting jealous? As sexy as you are ‘staking your claim’, doesn’t change the fact that your going to get your punishment when we get home, beautifu~l!” Satoru teased, his hand dragging up your body till his hand was at your neck, then he squeezed.

Kakashi let out a ragged breath at your moan. “I think we should get out of here.” Pressing himself harder into you, you could feel his impatience clearly through his pants.

You dared to look around you, eyes meeting with soft brown eyes glaring daggers at you with so much hatred. You would have been scared six months ago, you would have shrunk and shied away. But how could you now when Gojo and Kakashi were stood with you, hands all over you, demanding your love and attention, making you feel so treasured and powerful.

“Kiss me first.” You demanded. Satoru didn’t even hesitate for a second, pulling you into a searing kiss full of passion and desire. You faintly heard Miku and your friends cat call and wolf whistle somewhere near the bar, causing Gojo to pull away and chuckle. The opening was all Kakashi needed. His kiss was equally breathtaking, his movements slower and more controlled, but clearly as desperate to lay claim.

When Hatake pulled away, Gojo effortlessly picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, smacking your arse when you struggled. So you smacked his right back. Again, you couldn’t walk the next day.

By the end of the eight first months, you had finally landed a job interview and was offered the job on the spot, starting small but promised promotions if your work was up to standard. Around the same time your lease on the shared apartment with your friends was up, and you had finally given into your boyfriends hints and agreed to look for a place you could all afford together. What’s more, your graduation was less than a month away. Things were finally falling into place.

You had yet to broach the subject of your relationship status with your parents, though you were pretty sure they had figured out that you were at least dating someone by this point. Admitting that you hadn’t mentioned anything to your parents, you were nervous how the boys would react. But they had simply shrugged, nodded in understanding and reminding you that if you needed their help they were here for you.

Most importantly, you had a job you were doing well in, you were moving into a beautiful home, your friends were happy and doing well in their own fields, and you had two men who loved you unconditionally. You were sure everything was going to work out just right. And with Gojo and Satoru by your side, you could over come anything.

[ladyfogg]

First Date

First Date 

Fic Summary: The time has come for you and Colin to finally have your first official date. Love Exists Masterpost. The Evans Fics Masterpost.

Fic Rating: M

Pairing: Colin Zabel/Female Reader

Warnings: Language & some making out/suggestive language

Last week when you flirted with Colin and followed him to his hotel room, it had been a quick, spontaneous decision. While it hadn’t worked out quite how you wanted it to, you got your chance a few days later when he slept over at your place.

You didn’t expect to spend the following day in bed with him, nor did you expect to feel so goddamn horny for the man the second he left. Even the quickie in your car wasn’t enough. You want more of Detective Colin Zabel and it’s driving you crazy.

You’ve never wanted someone this bad before. But your stomach is a jumble of nerves for an entirely different reason. Because tonight, you and Colin are having your first official date and you have no idea how to act.

Dating is new territory for you. It’s been a long time since you’ve been in a relationship and even then it wasn’t serious. When Colin asked you to join him for dinner at his friend’s restaurant, you said yes before you could overthink. Of course, now that means your anxiety has been building.

The case Colin and Mare are working has kept them busy over the last few days so you haven’t been able to spend much time with your…friend? You don’t know what to call him. Boyfriend sounds too formal. Lover is a weird word that never settles quite right. Potential romantic partner? Booty call? Really close friend?

See, this is why you never date. It gets too confusing and messy.

At least, that’s how you used to feel. Now, you’re not so sure. Because every time Colin catches your eye and smiles at you, those old thoughts aren’t as loud as they used to be.

You keep telling yourself to relax and go with the flow, but it’s easier said than done. Which is why you find yourself running around your room trying to find something to wear.

Currently, most of your clothes are piled up on your bed. Digging through them, you reject everything you see, almost to the point of tears. It’s not until you sit yourself down and take a few deep breaths that you realize just how nervous you are.

“It’s okay,” you tell yourself. “It’s Colin. You know him. You like him. And he likes you. He’s the sweetest man you’ve ever met and he’s not going to care what you wear as long as you have a great time.”

Bullshit. Dress to impress. Knock him dead. Take the beath out of him.

After several long minutes of internal debate, you manage to find something relatively dressy that fits and looks good on you. Shoving all your clothes back in the closet, you try to make your room mostly presentable on the off chance you and Colin end up back there after dinner. You’d like to assume you will but are trying not to put any pressure on him or yourself.

You just finish getting ready when there’s a knock on the door. Checking yourself over in the mirror one last time, you take a deep breath, before going to greet Colin.

Dear GOD, he looks amazing. While Colin tends to dress very well for work, it’s different seeing him in a suit jacket and tie.

“You look beautiful,” he says, eyes taking you in with appreciation. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yup. Just lead the way.”

Colin offers you his arm in an endearingly formal way and you can help but accept, letting him lead you to his car. The sweet man even opens the door for you. With a quiet word of thanks, you climb in, your heart fluttering with nervous energy.

As he drives away, you sense the nervous tension between you two.

“So…” Colin says. “I know I suggested my friend’s restaurant but if you’d rather go somewhere else that’s good too.”

“No, no, your friend’s place is fine.”

Colin nods, flipping on the radio to help fill the awkward silence. You don’t know what to do with your hands and find yourself fidgeting with your coat, seatbelt, purse, and whatever you can.

“How was your afternoon?” Colin asks. “You were gone by the time we got back from canvasing…”

“It was fine. Made some coffee runs and filed a bunch of stuff.”

“Cool...”

More silence. As Colin pulls into a parking space at the restaurant, you feel the need to clear the air.

“I’m sorry I’m not very good company tonight,” you say. “The truth is, I’m really nervous.”

Colin smiles and puts the car in park. “Honestly, me too.”

You both laugh, partly from relief and partly by amusement. “Look, I don’t have any expectations,” Colin continues. “I asked you out because I really like you and I’ve never connected with someone like I’ve connected with you.”

“We have connected very well,” you tease.

Colin’s cheeks turn red and he ducks his head as he tries to hide his smile. “I meant emotionally but yeah, physically too.”

“I also meant emotionally,” you say. “Mostly.”

He laughs and looks at you again. “I’m really happy to hear you say that. Glad it’s not all in my head.”

Hearing the self-deprecation in his voice, you slide your hand into his hair and pull him into a kiss. He responds instantly, melting into your touch and kissing back with equal intensity. When he draws back, his eyes are hooded.

“It’s not all in your head,” you assure him. “There is something here. Why wouldn’t I feel something for you? You’re smart, considerate, fucking adorable as hell…” He smiles and blushes harder. “You’re a great guy, Colin.”

He kisses you gently one more time. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“I do,” you tease. “Now can we go eat?”

“Absolutely.”

Feeling lighter and less nervous, the two of you get out of the car. Colin takes your hand as he meets you on your side of the car. Heading inside, you can’t help but focus on the feeling of his hand in yours. It was solid and warm, just like the rest of him.

You’re seated right away and Colin let’s your hand go so he can hold your chair our for you. The atmosphere is calm and quiet, the low lighting set the right mood. Colin looks even more dashing than he did on your front porch.

The waiter takes your drink orders and you pick up your menu, trying to figure out what to have. Colin does the same.

“This is a nice place,” you comment, glancing around. “I’m not used to going out like this.”

“Stick with me and I’ll take you to all the nice places.”

“What? The backseat of my car isn’t nice enough?”

His ears turn red this time and he chuckles. “I didn’t say that. It has its merits.”

The waiter arrives with your drinks and takes your orders, before leaving once more.

“So, Detective Colin Zabel,” you say, resting your elbows on the table. “What’s a big shot like you doing in a place like Easttown?”

He clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “I’m no big shot,” he says shaking his head. “I’m just a guy trying to do the right thing.”

“It makes you uncomfortable, doesn’t it?” you realize. “Talking about that big case.”

“Can we not talk about that case?” he asks. “I’m not…I’d rather talk about something else.”

“No problem. Sorry I brought it up.”

“It’s okay. What about you? I never asked what it was like for you starting out. You know, after the academy.”

He seems relieved that you are willing drop the subject and as the conversation starts to flow, both of you get more comfortable. Wanting to take his mind off things, you decide to tell him about your more memorable moments as a young trainee.

“Oh, and THEN! Then Mare arrives right as I’m trying to detain this guy,” you say, hands moving wildly as you talk. “And she just gives me that stern, unamused look that she always has…”

“Yup, I know that look.”

“And when I finally get him into the back of the car she goes, ‘Hey, kid, I think you’re forgetting something’.”

“Oh god, no…”

“Yeah, the guy’s dog. He came tearing out of the house and I chased me around the car while Mare just fucking laughed.”

Colin throws his head back and laughs, a sight that makes your own grin widen. You’ve never seen him so jovial, well without alcohol, and you vow to think of more stories that’ll make him laugh that hard.

“Didn’t you go there because of the reports of his dog being loud and aggressive?”

“Sure did. Then promptly forgot when I noticed the stolen merchandise from the theft. Needless to say, I got a little too excited and, whelp, got chased by the dog.”

Colin is still laughing, shaking his head while he does. “Wow. Just…just wow.”

“I am so glad you enjoyed my embarrassment.”

“I absolutely did.”

His face is bright and you want to reach across the table and kiss him.

You wonder why you were even nervous to begin with. Once the food arrives, Colin lifts his wine in a toast. You follow his lead with your drink and you both smile as you clink glasses.

“Any particular plans after dinner?” you ask as you both start to eat.

Colin shakes his head. “Not in particular. What do you have in mind?”

“There’s a soft bed that’s been missing you.”

His pupils dilate and you see his breathing pick up. “I…yeah, that sounds great. I kind of hoped you’d say that but I didn’t want to assume anything.”

Under the table, you run the tip of your shoe up the back of his calf and he jumps in surprise, almost dropping his fork. You smirk as he gets flustered.

“You have my complete permission to assume all you’d like,” you say in a low voice.

The evening takes on a very different energy after that. Heated looks are exchanged as you both eat as quickly as you can while still being polite.

“Are we thinking dessert?” the waiters asks when he gathers your empty plates.

You shoot Colin a raised eyebrow.

“I think just the check will be fine,” Colin says.

The drive back to your place is different than the drive to the restaurant had been. Colin’s hand rests on your knee, and just the pressure of it is enough to get your body going.

He barely puts the car in park before you reach for him, yanking him into a searing kiss. Colin is just as eager, hands fumbling to turn off the car before he can get them on you.

“We should go inside,” he pants between kisses.

“Yes, please.”

You stop just long enough to get out of the car. Coming around to the front, you both meet in the middle, Colin cupping your cheek while snaking his arm around your waist. God the way his mouth slots over yours is just so perfect.

The ringing of his cellphone cuts through the quiet night.

You groan in frustration. “Noooooo.,” you whine.

Colin huffs in annoyance, pulling back. “I’m so sorry,” he says taking the phone out of his pocket. “Shit, it’s Mare. I should take this.”

Sighing but understanding, you motion for him to go ahead.

Colin answers the phone. “Zabel, here. Yeah, hey, Mare…”

You know work has interrupted your date and you probably won’t be getting to the best part anytime soon. Colin’s face is somber as he listens to his partner.

“Okay, I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he says, giving you an apologetic look. “Bye.”

He hangs up.

“Duty calls?” you ask.

“I’m so sorry,” he says. “She wants me to meet her in an hour. There’s a club we need to check out.”

“An hour, huh?” you ask, lips curling into a smile.

“Yeah. It’s across town so it’s going to take me a—what are you doing?”

You push him so his back bumps into the hood of the car. “You have plenty of time to get there. I want to at least make out a little.”

Colin gives you that lopsided smile before pulling you into another heated kiss. You slide your arms around his neck as his go around your waist, crushing you against his chest. It’s filled with promises and silent wants. Neither of you wants him to go, both of you would love to go inside and pick up where you left off the other day.

But work is work, and you won’t make him feel guilty for doing his job.

Your tongue finds his, deepening the kiss as your fingers dig into the collar of his coat. Colin draws back just enough for his nose to brush yours as he lays several pecks on your lips.

“If I’m not done too late, can I come back?” he asks, voice filled with hope.

“You better.”

His smile widens and he gives you one final, sweeping kiss before gently pushing you back so he’s not pressed against the car.

“I’ll text you,” he promises.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Colin watches you walk up to your door but doesn’t get into his car until you’re safely inside. You wave to him from the door, hoping he’ll come back sooner rather than later. In the meantime, you are going to find the sexiest underwear you own and wait.

--- 

Series Taglist: @lejardinfleur​ @spidergirlmcu​ @anonymushhy​ @samsassinparvismagna​ @kitwalker64​ @tatestripedsweater​ @xmaximoffic​ @marshmallow--3​ @stellarbound​ @kais-messiahbaby​ @margaretboothsear​ @slightlyvicked​ @nia-s-not-so-secret-diary​ @liandav​ @billyhxrgrove​ @TheOriginalDoll87

[kpopfanfictrash]

s is for sexy

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jungkook

Word Count: 1,532

Rating: PG-13

Summary: An accompanying drabble to The Art of War More. This drabble takes place after the events of both TAOM and L is for Lunacy. Jungkook is included in People magazine’s Sexiest Men Alive issue, but you can’t find a copy anywhere.

[ PART OF MY JUNGKOOK BIRTHDAY DRABBLE GAME ]

“We’ve made a terrible mistake,” you complained, sinking down on a park bench to rest your chin in one hand.

Coming to a stop, Gina craned her neck to peer over her shoulder. “I agree,” she said. “We should’ve stopped and gotten donuts at that shop I pointed out.”

“Gina.” You looked up. “Read the room, alright?”

“Right, sorry.”

She grinned, plopping down on the park bench beside you. Adjusting her green and white striped shorts, Gina lifted a hand to scan the horizon. A few children played on the slide at the playground, their innocent cackles drifting over the hedges.

Utterly exhausted, you sighed. “We should give up.”

“No!” Gina turned to face you, appalled. “We’re not stopping until we’ve combed every newsstand in the city. Until we’ve harassed every bodega owner! Until our names are plastered under persona non grata in every library!”

Normally, Gina’s speeches were enough for you to crack a smile, but not today. Today was the day Jungkook’s big magazine article was released and you had woefully dropped the ball. To be fair, Seokjin had suggested you order the volume ahead of time, since the People’s Sexiest Men issue tended to sell out, but you completely forgot.

Jungkook had stayed on campus through Senior year, but then had immediately entered the NHL. This was his second full season with the team and already, he was garnering national attention. Much of this was due to a viral clip of your boyfriend removing his jersey at the end of game five of the western conference finals, but said clip wouldn’t have gone viral if Jungkook had been on the bench.

The fact that he got playing time in his first season was remarkable – let alone that he was playing in the semis and was now considered the league’s It boy. Already there were rumors of him being nominated for end of year awards. Jungkook was excited about those, of course, but you and your friends were more excited for this. People’s Sexiest Men Alive.

He wasn’t the cover, of course – that was reserved for A list celebrities – but it seemed Jungkook’s abs had been enough to land him a mention. You’d planned on wallpapering the apartment door with the photo before he got home tomorrow, but that wouldn’t happen if you couldn’t get your hands on a copy.

Unfortunately for you, the issue seemed to be sold out.

Sighing again, you folded your arms over your chest. “Has Seokjin said anything to you?” you asked Gina. “Was he able to find one?”

“How should I know?” she said, somewhat defensive. “It’s not like I know everything Seokjin does or says.”

You stared at her for a moment, unsure how to respond. “Uh – I know?”

“Right.” Gina swallowed, somewhat mollified. “Why don’t we call him?”

Shaking your head at her weirdness, you pulled your phone from your pocket. Honestly, Gina and Seokjin had been acting mad weird lately. They acted all cagey and awkward whenever you asked one about the other. If you didn’t know better, you’d almost think they were fighting.

Dialing Seokjin’s number, you leaned back on the bench and listened to his ringback tone. Kim Seokjin was one of the only people you knew – well, him and your aunt – who still had that feature, and Seokjin hadn’t bothered to update his since 2011. It was still Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepsen.

HEY, I JUST MET YOU! AND THIS IS CRAZ –

“Hello?”

“Seokjin,” you groaned. “When are you going to change that dumb ringback tone?”

“Whenever Carly Rae goes out of style, so never.”

Gina, having overheard, cracked up beside you.

“Anyways,” you said, switching to your other ear. “Any luck on the search?”

“Sorry, but nope. Seems your boyfriend is more in demand than that one donut shop Gina always wants to go to.”

“That, or it’s the fact that Michael B. Jordan’s on the cover.”

“Yeah, probably that.”

“Alright,” you sighed, picking a thread on your jeans. “Thanks for trying, Seokjin.”

“Anytime,” he said and hung up.

As you shoved your phone in your purse, Gina looked at you warily. “No luck?”

“Nope.”

“Hm.” Gina leaned back on the bench. “Maybe we should switch gears here, get creative. We could cut out semi-nude photos of Jungkook and stick them to the pages of last year’s edition!”

“Where would I get last year’s issue, though?”

“Good point.” Gina thought. “You could just stick semi-nude photos of Jungkook to your front door?”

“Gina,” you laughed, shoving her shoulder. “Stop stripping my boyfriend!”

“There it is!” Gina beamed. “I knew I could get you to laugh.”

Shaking your head, your smile faded a little. Gina was right though, this was silly. It would’ve been fun for Jungkook to come home from his away game to this, but it was hardly the end of the world. You would just order a copy online and wait.

Heaving a great sigh, you stood from the bench. “Okay,” you said, turning to Gina. “Let’s head out.”

Gina convinced you to go to the donut shop at least, so you didn’t arrive home empty-handed. That was the reason she gave you at least, although you knew it had more to do with her recently launched donut Instagram.

The box was precariously perched on your hip as you shoved open the door, placing the keys on the hook to kick the door shut. As you turned to walk inside, you started – nearly dropping the entire box of donuts on the floor.

“Jungkook?” you gasped.

Chucking the box on the counter, you dashed across the room.

Jungkook laughed when you reached him, immediately jumping to wrap your legs around his waist. He caught you easily, warm hands on your waist as you buried your face in his chest. Somewhat awkwardly, he walked you towards the kitchen.

“You’re back!” you blurted, pulling back to see him.

Jungkook grinned, rosy-cheeked from your touch. “I’m back,” he agreed, depositing you on the kitchen counter. “Miss me?”

“How?” you demanded, poking his chest. “How’d you get home so fast?”

“I feel so welcome,” Jungkook teased. At the look on your face, he grinned. “Coach cancelled tomorrow’s practice, so I caught a flight back today.”

“Yay,” you said happily, leaning to rest your head on his chest.

The steady thrum of his heartbeat reassured you and for a moment, you allowed yourself to enjoy this. Jungkook smelled as he always did, like light floral and cotton, and the weight of his hands on your thighs made your heart calm.

His thumbs played with the thread on your jeans, which sent your mind to other places – places involving your bed, his ass and zero clothes – but for now, you were content with this.

“What’s in the box?” he murmured into your hair.

“Oh, right,” you said and pulled back. Twisting around, you dragged the donut box towards you and popped the top. “Some might be a bit squished since I threw them. Gina and I went to the new donut place on Lakeview.”

Jungkook’s eyes went super-wide. He immediately bent to grab the closest donut, powdered sugar getting everywhere when he bit into the side.

“Yum.” Jungkook’s eyes rolled exaggeratedly back in his head. “Wow, this is the best welcome home I’ve ever gotten. There’s you, of course, but also – donuts.”

“Obviously,” you said. “There was actually supposed to be another surprise, but I kind of messed it up.”

Jungkook licked powdered sugar off his wrist. “Messed something up? You? Don’t buy it.”

“Suck up,” you teased. “But no, really. I wanted to get your People’s Sexiest Men edition! I was going to plaster it across the front door and embarrass you.”

Jungkook grimaced. “As fun as that sounds, the donuts are better.”

“What? You aren’t proud of how sexy you are?”

“I don’t care about that.” Jungkook swallowed the last of the donut. “As long as you find me sexy.”

Tipping your head back, you groaned. “Okay, now you’re seriously sucking up.”

“Mm.” Placing his hands on either side of your thighs, Jungkook’s nose grazed your jawline. “Anything else you want me to suck?”

“Jungkook!”

Drawing back, his gaze glinted darkly. “Besides, why do you need that photo of me with my shirt off?”

You frowned, perturbed and he reached one hand overhead. Still looking at you, Jungkook did that stupid-hot thing guys do where they remove their shirt with one hand. When his six pack abs were revealed, they left you a bit speechless.

Flexing a little, Jungkook grinned. “You have the real thing.”

“Shut up,” you groaned, shoving his pec. Oh – hard. Sliding down from the counter, you began walking towards the bedroom. “But since you offered…”

Jungkook waggled his brows. “I did.”

“Get in there, sexiest man alive,” you laughed. “Show me what you got.”

“Alright.” Jungkook caught himself on the doorframe with both hands. “But before we go any further, I feel compelled to clarify I’m not People’s sexiest man, just one of them. Michael B. Jordan is the sexiest man alive.”

“Jungkook!” You pointed through the door. “Bed!”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a salute.

You stared after him, grinning stupidly before following.

 kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[yourstruly-caycay]

20 Years Later

A one-shot base of the art from  @ris-lunas.

Disclaimer: none of this will be accurate to the mythology, and this won’t follow the Record of Ragnarok storyline.

Ganesha and Shiva have a best father-and-son relationship. Beside being a father, Shiva is also like a brother to him, everyday is like a holiday whenever Shiva is around.

But lately, as Ganesha grow up, Shiva has been really busy with lots of work. They spend less time, and even Shiva immediately go to sleep after work sometimes — it can be lonely to Ganesha.

On the other hand, Shiva actually want to spend a family time with his wives and Ganesha, but the work can be stressing to him even though he always never show his stress expression. Although, he still able to spend times with his family, even if it’s only a little amount of time; he wish to go back to that day.

20 years ago~

“Papa!”

“Ganesha!” 

The elephant jump into his father’s hug with a laughter that’s pleasant to heard it, “Happy Father’s day, papa. Look at the chocolate cake I made for you!”

He excitedly showed it to his father, shiva smirked at the messy drawing of Shiva, his three wives, and Ganesha together by using a cream— it flattered him. 

“How creative you are, Ganesha, good job,”  he continue,“Now that your school is over, where do you want to go?”  

Today is actually an unusual day for Shiva to wore clothes and jacket, let alone a sandal too—it made him looked like an ordinary father picked up his son from school. 

“How about carnival? Let’s ride roller coaster together.”

“Great idea then, let’s go.” Shiva still carried his son with a smile on their face, anxious to spending time together, plus it was a right day to went to carnival since it’s sunny.

Well... not really, on the way to the carnival, the weather somehow turned into cloudy. The wind was slowly getting harsh, and suddenly a droplet of water dropped to Shiva’s head as another waters dropped from above clouds — it had became raining, and they’re disappointed.

“Screw the rain, who even dropping this rain?” He silently glared, immediately ran to find a nearest shelter, Shiva used his jacket to covered Ganesha from the rain. 

Fortunately, it’s a relieved for Shiva that it’s not took a long time to found a bus shelter to stayed for a moment, he put Ganesha on the seat as he sat too. Now, the only thing they should do right now was to waited for the rain to stopped.

Shiva noticed that Ganesha was shivered because of today cold weather. He shoved Ganesha unto his jacket to covered him from the cold — not much of a help, but Ganesha hugged tightly to his body, Shiva took a glance at his son who yawn and eyes exhausted. 

“If you’re tired, just go back to sleep, I’ll wake you up once the rain stopped.”

“I can’t sleep papa, it’s really cold here.”  

Shiva sooth the little elephant’s back, “Well, just rest, this might take a long times to stop.” 

Suddenly, a growled can be heard from both of them as Ganesha had a blush on his face, then a bigger growl came from Shiva that both of them glance awkwardly to his stomach. 

The awkwardness turned into a laughter, it's ironic that both stomach were begging some foods, happiness filled within them even in this cold harsh rain.

They almost forgot about the rain as suddenly a thunder clap make them scream in surprise. 

Ganesha hide his face with Shiva’s jacket, not even wanted to saw the rain as he could felt the slight shiver of coldness. Meanwhile, Shiva held his son tightly to comforted him.

“Just close your eyes and cover your ears, Ganesha.”  The trembling little elephant nod his head within the jacket, Shiva was seeking for an indoor place where they can stay for a moment.

Fortunately, there’s a restaurant that’s only across the bus shelter. It could be saw from the light and blurry figure. How excited Shiva was when discovered it, he carry Ganesha while covering Ganesha and himself with his jacket.

“Papa, what are you doing?”

“We’re going to restaurant, it not far from here.”

“But isn’t this too dangerous, papa?”

“just trust me on this one, son, we’re gonna make it without getting wet.” Confident can be saw on Shiva’s face, his smile that always reassure Ganesha that his father can go through anything — even troublesome one. 

Shiva scanned the road to make sure there’s no vehicle driving, him and his son held the jacket tightly as the wind was getting harsher. In this empty road, he countdown and ran to the road. Both father and son were scream either in panic or fun, Ganesha held the jacket tightly with his other hand while the other clinged into Shiva’s body.

As they finally reach to the restaurant, and got inside. Shiva put Ganesha down — he’s completely dry from the rain, amaze that not a drop of rain was on Ganesha. “We did it papa, We’re safe.”  

"See? Told you that your papa can go through anything." Ganesha rolled his eyes while chuckled, Shiva sometimes can be a bit too confident.

The restaurant that they stumble in is actually a WcDonald, it's Ganesha's first time in here.

“Well, let’s order a food, unless you want your stomach to complain.” Since Ganesha doesn't knew much of this place nor the foods, he just let his father order anything for him. They wait for the meal to be served, and it only took a few minutes as they received the meal. 

It felt new for Ganesha to saw a burger and french fries with coke since he live in a luxury life. He found the shaoe of a burger to be funny and the smell was pleasant to made his stomach growled.

Taking a bite of the burger curiously, he freezes at how tasty it is, his wide smile could obviously be seen as he take another bite. 

Shiva just laughed at how Ganesha devoured the burger excitedly, however it’s not long until Ganesha cough from eating a big bite, Shiva immediately gave him the water as he drank it. 

“Be careful when eating, just slowly.” He patted Ganesha’s back, then as they begin to ate again, a waitress came to them and asked. 

“Sorry to interrupted you sir, but if you don’t mind, may I take a picture of you and your son for the Father’s Day?”

“Sure, why not?” 

“Thank you, please just eat your food while I take your picture.”

 She thanked Shiva as she took the picture of them, Shiva just continue ate the food with Ganesha happily.

After the waitress took the picture twice, she gave one of them to Shiva and leave them. 

“Wow, we look great in the picture, don’t you think so Ganesha?” 

“We are!” 

Shiva looked at the outside and disappointed that the rain is still pouring, it’s a shame they can’t go to a carnival, plus he have other works to do after this and he can’t spend the rest of the times with his family. “Ganesha, sorry that I can’t take you to the carnival, seems like the rain won’t stop soon.”

“That’s alright papa, beside I’m happy that we get to hang out together,” Ganesha continue, “I know that papa have work to do, and maybe after this papa can’t play with me, but I’m happy that you try to spare a time for me.”  

Shiva was out of words, didn’t expected that sentence to came out from his son. It’s quiet for a moment until Shiva finally smiled, proud to know his son understand him, both of them continue to ate the foods.

A hour later, the rain had stopped and they order another WcDonald’s foods for his wives.

Once they reach their house by evening, the wives were concerned with Shiva wearing his jacket that’s wet from rain, wasn't he feeling cold the whole time?

In the end, Shiva gave each of them the foods as an apoligize for making them worried. The wives were also impressed when they heard that Shiva kept his son dry during the rain, and adored the picture and the cake that Ganesha showed them.

Present day~

One of his wives, Parvati, found a certain picture in the attic. She didn’t expect this to still be in here — it’s actually a cute picture. Parvati come to Ganesha as she show him, “Ganesha, I found something from the attic.” 

His eyes gaze at the picture and become wide in surprise — a picture of him and Shiva eat together in a fast food. “How? I thought it’s already gone.” 

“I don’t know how, but I think it’s the best if you keep it. You and Shiva looks really cute in this picture."

Ganesha smile at the memory from twenty years ago, this was back when he’s only grade 3. "You're right mama, I will keep it."

"I'm home!" A sound of door open wide revealing Shiva with his joyful expression.

"Welcome home, Lord Shiva." One of his wives, Kali, approaching him and kiss him.

"Kali, look at what I got for you guys-"

"Papa, you come home early!" Ganesha approach him along with Parvati and Durga. Ganesha hug him as Shiva hug him back, the atmosphere has become warm and vibrant with him. Then, he embrace his other two wives, everyone always got a turn. 

“By the way, I’ve got something for you guys while I was on my way back home.” He handing out the bag of food, Ganesha immediately recognize the bag as if a memory come back alive. “Papa, isn’t that from WcDonald?”

“Correct, I’m surprise you still remember it, let’s eat this together for dinner.” 

The end~

Author’s note: I’m so sorry that it got delay, but I hope y’all like it. Thank you for being patient with me. >////<

[spicynamericano]

Perception. - mk lee

sypnosis: you meet a stranger in the park, who helps you prepare for your interview with renowned author, mark lee.

word count: 2.1k

genre: fluff, strangers to friends!au, author!mark x reporter!reader

a/n: i impulsively wrote this in the wee hours of the morning because i can't stop thinking about mark lee and his poems! btw, this is my first time posting an au on this platform, but i do have ongoing twitter fics (written in eng/fil)!

I had just finished my late night shift at the office and was on my way home from work. Being a field reporter is not an easy job. I have to work my butt off to always stay up to date on the latest news and make sure to grab even the rarest exclusives.

I have to travel to basically anywhere, just to gather the most accurate information for the daily primetime news. And even if work is done for the day, I would usually go overtime to make sure no single detail is left out for tomorrow’s reports.

My workplace isn’t that far from home, or what I call home now. Moving into my elder sister’s old apartment was not a hassle. It was actually quite a blessing since I always used to stay over whenever we visited the city. I really thank the heavens that her place was near my workplace. Imagine the struggle of moving in and out from scratch. Actually, I wouldn’t even dare to imagine.

I would usually ride my bike to and from the office, but since I was running a bit late earlier in the morning, I decided to take the bus. Convenience at its finest. But it’s late now. A fifteen minute walk back home won’t hurt, right? Besides, I needed a breather. A walk in the nearby park would suffice.

It’s midnight and of course, the park is empty. Although Seoul is alive 24/7, I really like how some areas still have that laid-back vibe. I walk to the swings and place my bag on the ground. I do wish someone would push me right now. I just wanna be free from all the hectic stuff I’ve been doing lately.

But no, the quick rest I thought of didn’t stop me from going over tomorrow’s duties. I scan my little, brown notepad and check the work I have yet to accomplish. I mostly finished them before I got off work, but there is one more that I needed to do for tomorrow: interview Mr. Mark Lee, the author of the best-selling Late Night Scribbles.

It’s a collection of poems and prose he’s written over the course of five years during his travels to different cities as a renowned travel writer. His travel reviews and recommendations were something I always looked forward to reading. Maybe someday I could go on a stress-free holiday trip thanks to his advice.

I have read his book. For someone who’s trained into more technical writing like me, I could still clearly resonate with most of the poems he’s written. Not too shallow, not too deep. Though you do need to have a sense of literature in order to understand more of his deeper works. He isn’t famous for nothing.

What appalled me though is that he never showed his face to anyone, not even once. Some say he’s actually the main rapper of the world-renowned boy group NCT, since they bear the same name. I think otherwise. Well, it could be, though. Rappers do make their own lines and tell their own stories.

But I don’t think that Mark Lee would be the same person I’d be interviewing tomorrow. It’s weird because I won’t be actually meeting him face to face. He said he’d rather converse through email. Works for me since I don’t have to travel tomorrow. Thank God.

Well, let me tell you a secret. The reason I don’t think author Mark Lee is singer Mark Lee is because singer Mark Lee is actually my childhood best friend. Crazy, huh? I used to live in Vancouver when I was young until my family and I moved back to Korea during my teen years.

I don’t think he remembers me, though. But I do remember him. Our moms were practically best friends. I couldn’t say the same to us, only if he still actually remembers me.

I stretch my arms up high and bend it side to side. God, I need a massage asap. I was about to pick up my bag when a basketball rolled over and hit the tip of my loafers. A man dressed in black waves from the court, signaling to toss the ball to his direction.

I would toss it if I could but I walk over instead. Blame my poor strength and reflexes. And I obviously do not want to embarrass myself. A rough day’s a rough day. I don’t want an addition.

“Uhm, are you looking for this?” I ask the guy, tossing the ball mid-air.

“Yes, thank you…” he pauses. “uh…”

“Oh, it’s (y/n).” I introduced myself, “And you are?”

“Minhyung.”

“Well, you’re welcome, Minhyung. Good luck with your basketball practice!” I gave him a nod before finally turning back to go home.

“Wait!” he calls out. “Do you maybe wanna have a cup of coffee? There’s a nearby convenience store still open. I figured you might need it.”

Was it that obvious? I can’t imagine how stressed I look right now! He has probably seen the dark circles under my eyes. Gross.

I finally turn around and give him a smile, “You know, maybe I do need it. Let’s go?”

This man and I walk to the nearby convenience store just a few meters away from the court. It’s midnight and not many people are here. Well, just exactly like how I want it. The park can actually become full, even until 10 pm. But I guess these people also need some shut-eye. I’m actually surprised this man right here still has some energy left.

I wait outside and sit at the nearest gazebo while he buys instant coffee for the both of us. He arrives with three in hand. Does he like coffee that much?

“You’re really gonna drink two?” I ask him curiously.

“It’s actually for you,” he says as he hands me one of the cups. “I feel like you’re going to be staying up late tonight.”

Well, he’s right. I am gonna be staying up late. I still need to prepare questions for tomorrow’s, or later, rather, interview. I really won’t be getting some sleep tonight. I also need to do research on him too.

“Well, I do have an interview for tomorrow. I still need to prepare as it’s a very important one.”

“With whom, may I ask?”

“Mark Lee, the author. Not the singer.”

“Oh,” he lets out a soft sigh that can be heard, even through his mask. Is he offended that I don’t think author Mark Lee and singer Mark Lee are the same?

“Why do you sound so disappointed?”

“Uh, nothing. I just remembered the book he recently released. Have you read it?”

“Late Night Scribbles?”

“Yes, that!” he answered enthusiastically. Wow, I guess I found a fan right here. He might actually help me with my interview later. I need to grab this chance.

“Do you mind helping me? I’m actually going to interview him about it tomorrow.” I gave him the widest smile, hoping he’d say yes. I normally wouldn’t do this to strangers, especially at night. But I really just need to get this over with.

“Well, as someone who’s a fan of his works. I’d like to give it a try and interpret it,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee. “Just imagine I’m Mark Lee. Shoot your questions.”

“Hmm, I can’t be answering personal questions since you’re not Mark Lee.” I scratch my head. Damn, I can’t think of anything. My brain is not working right now! “But if you were Mark Lee, what would you want to be asked?”

“If I were Mark Lee? Well, rather than asking what my inspiration was behind the works I’ve made, I’d rather be asked on how I tried to convey my thoughts and feelings to this piece of work,” he explained, staring at the night sky.

I followed the direction of his gaze, and he’s looking at Orion, one of the brightest constellations out there. I gaze at it too while waiting for him to continue explaining.

“But isn’t it basically the same as drawing inspiration from something?” I ask profoundly.

“Not really. You can draw inspiration from anything. And you can come up with different outputs based on one inspiration. What’s important is how you’re able to connect the context of what you’re writing to the feelings you want to draw out,” he continues.

“With a single inspiration, I can come up with two completely different works based on how it’s written. The idea may be the same but the context is not.”

“Hmm, care to explain a little further?” I ask politely.

“We can use Black Socks as an example.”

Black socks are underrated

The way they connect the bottom sleeves of

my black sweatpants to my black sneakers

is just perfect

Pleasure from perfect alignment

That also goes for the ability to be parallel

with my thoughts and actions

I try to live out what’s in my mind, and keep

it consistent even when forgotten like a

working habit

A moment to think twice about what

seemed unimportant

Black socks have been making my day

these days and I knew I had to return the

favor by acknowledging them

I throw you in the bin only so that you can

be renewed again

“Black socks, literally an ordinary object that is tossed to the bin right after use. But what caught my eye is his appreciation for this mundane thing.”

“Through his words, you can tell black socks gave him comfort. He used a simple subject to convey his inner thoughts of how every little thing we don’t really recognize can actually be part of our routine, our life,” he said, looking me in the eye seriously.

“He found comfort in the most ordinary things no ordinary person would take notice of.”

Minhyung stands up and stretches his arms. He then continues, “It’s actually cool he shared this piece with us. If I were him, I’d go on and ramble how black socks could ruin my laundry.”

We both chuckle at the thought. It’s true. I hate how some of my black socks actually ruin my laundry. I dread the thought.

“It’s only a matter of perception, (y/n). Sometimes, you have to open your eyes and see, not look. Listen, not hear. Savor, not taste. Feel, not touch.”

“You know, you could actually be Mark Lee himself,” I tease him, “You do know your literature.”

I know he smiled at my remark. I can see his cheekbones rise from the edges of his mask.

“Sometimes, you just have to ask the right questions in order to get the answers you want,” he said teasingly. “You can’t get what you want if you don’t know what you want.”

For a stranger, he’s indeed a good talker. I actually learned so much from our talk tonight.

“Thanks for tonight, Minhyung. I really learned a lot.” I thank him before gulping down the last cup of coffee he bought me. “And thanks for the coffee, by the way! I now have energy to prepare for my interview later.”

“No problem. I’m just glad that I was able to help.”

I stood up from my seat and we both started walking away from the park.

“It’s 1 am. How are you gonna get home, (y/n)?” Minhyung asks worriedly. Yeah, it is pretty late. It’s a good thing I just live near.

“My apartment’s just two blocks away. I can manage,” I say with a smile, a genuine one at that. “How about you?”

“I’ll just grab a cab. Do you mind if I walk you home?” I don’t know why but I felt flustered for a moment. Surprisingly though, I just nodded my head, giving him permission to accompany me home.

We both arrive at the entrance of my apartment building and we say our last goodbyes.

“For a stranger, you really do know how to make people comfy,” I say, crossing my arms and giving him a stare, brows furrowed to tease him.

“Well, that’s just how I am,” he says while giving me a wink. Okay, now he’s flirting. Someone stop him, please. Just kidding.

“By the way, you haven’t taken your mask off the entire time except when drinking coffee. I couldn’t get a good glimpse at you since it was dark,” I explain. It’s true. Add the fact that I’m barely keeping myself awake the whole time. “I might’ve actually thought you’re an idol of some sort. Perhaps, maybe you are Mark Lee.”

“What?” he asks, puzzled and clearly taken aback. “Why’d you think so?”

“Because you share the same name with him.”