#have any of these people seen a real strawberry

[maniacalshen]

This is 90% of Facebook now. Your relatives are getting absolutely brain-cooked by it.

We've all been taken in by a convincing AI image with a quick glance, and we all know it's getting harder to spot the fakes, but people who like and happily comment on stuff like the above really worry me.

[fooltofancy]

i don't miss living near most of my family, tbh, but i DO miss terribly the recovered meth addict uncle.

[harunovella]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ love language; s.g.

synopsis: when gojo satoru first fell in love with you content: teen gojo era, fem!reader, gojo is head over heels (love at first sight), hopeless!romantic gojo, 1k+ words of gojo just being an absolute fool in love, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: I've been wanting to create a sort of anthology series for some of my favs so here's a test run! I rlly wanna do lil drabbles/oneshots that can both be standalone but also can be read as something continuous revolving around Gojo's story with his soulmate... pls lmk if you'd like to see more of gojo and his mochi (aka you!)

Gojo Satoru didn't entirely know what love was; what with being raised by other people who weren't his actual mother and father, how could he? All he ever knew was a life of being the Honored One, since the day he was born. Nothing but a weapon. Living as the strongest and treated like a god... he never knew what real love felt like. He never knew what it was like to give or receive it. At least, not this way.

Geto Suguru and Ieiri Shoko were his best friends, the closest thing to real family. It wasn't like he didn't have any, at least not while growing up, but were they really family when all they ever did was train him and treat him like the eighth wonder of the world? Unlike everyone else, at least Suguru and Shoko treated him like a human. They loved him for who he was, but didn't hesitate to snap him into place when his ego was too inflated. They were there for him, even when expressing whatever demons that he held within him was hard to manage. If it wasn't for them, he wasn't sure exactly how he'd go about his life. Sure, he'd act like everything was fine and dandy, money could buy him happiness as he had plenty of it... and he was pretty much unstoppable, but the idea of living a life without either of them didn't sit well in his stomach.

So, sure, Satoru did now a bit about love, at least the love he felt for his best friends, but nothing like what he felt in this moment. The moment his eyes first fell on you.

He hadn't a clue as to who you were, only seeing you stroll along the grounds of Jujutsu High with your little uniform. The typical jacket, a skirt beneath, knee high socks, loafers... and your hair in a low ponytail that was held together by an overly large ribbon. Cute was the first thing that came to mind, along with the terrifying sound of his racing heart. Who were you? How come he had never seen you before? Maybe it was because he didn't pay attention to any one else besides a handful of people. He'd be lying if he said he was sure the technical college held more than five students. 

In the midst of sipping away at his little box of strawberry milk, walking alongside Suguru and Shoko, Satoru's eyes had aimlessly wandered along his environment as his two best friends had been discussing evening plans. It wasn't like him to care about what was going on around him, so it was quite the miracle that his eyes were looking anywhere but ahead of him... but, maybe this was destiny.

It felt like the world was suddenly moving slowly around him, rather dramatically like a movie. His lips parted as the tiny straw fell out of it, hidden gaze behind his circular frames becoming exposed as the glasses slid down the bridge of his nose. You looked so graceful, the afternoon sun beaming down on you, your smile as bright as his eyes... he had to have been in love. This had to have been love. What else could it have been? Why else was his heart fluttering so quickly? Why else was he caught in a daze by your beauty? No one else, not a single soul, ever caught his attention this way so you must've been his soulmate.

There was something about you, from your gorgeous hair, to the cute bow, down to the uniform and the way it suited your form to the way you... wait, were you laughing with... Nanami Kento? Gojo's heart stopped as his grip on the milk grew tight, causing the contents to squeeze right out and squirt all over his face.

The sound of laughter caught his attention as he quickly looked at his two best friends, embarrassment filling his face as he looked back at you to see you now looking in his direction. Quickly wiping his face and turning away to scold his best friends, Gojo tossed the now empty carton at Geto. "Shut up!"

"What the hell did you do?" Suguru shook his head, wiping his tears as his shoulders shook with every laugh that rumbled throughout his torso. "Losing your cool over a girl, huh?"

"I said shut up!" Satoru snapped, cheeks burning with heat, embarrassed that he was that obvious.

"Must've struck something in him for him to spill milk all over his face like the doofus he is," Shoko snickered as Suguru went for a high five.

Swatting their hands and glaring at the two, Gojo hissed, "nothing happened, I squeezed too hard."

"Right," the two said in sync before eyeing one another, smirking and stifling a laugh.

Shoving past them as he kept walking ahead, grumbling to himself, Gojo couldn't help but peak over in your direction. You had already turned your attention back to the two on either side of you—Nanami along with Yu Haibara. Since when did they have a friend that was a girl? And when did you appear? He should've known seeing as both were his junior and both trained quite close to Suguru and himself. So you must've been new... He supposed he'd find more out about you, knowing he'd find a way to get under Nanami's skin and get anything out of him. He must've known a lot about you...

Gojo smirked to himself. He'd get his way.

"No," Nanami spoke as he crossed his arms. The confidence in Gojo's face instantly fading away. He didn't even hesitate, cancelling his plans with his best friends to bribe Kento into giving him some information. He swore taking his junior to his favorite bakery would help him out, but, no! Kento, being the wise boy he was, took advantage of Satoru paying for food in a false exchange for information. "I'm not going to be your middle man."

"Why not?!" Gojo whined, throwing himself back in his seat dramatically. "Just one thing! Something! Anything! She's the love of my life!"

Narrowing his eyes as he sipped away at his water, Nanami settled the glass down before crossing his arms once again. "Love of your life? You don't even know her name—"

"Because you won't tell me!" Gojo cried, throwing his head back and stomping his foot as if he was about to throw a tantrum. "Please, please! I beg of you, tell me something about her! Besides her name, what's her favorite color? Maybe her favorite food? Or... or what's her favorite date spot!"

"Satoru, I am not about to ask her what her favorite date spot is," Nanami deadpanned. "I'll give you her name and that's all. Everything else is on you. I'm not going to play matchmaker, let alone, set you up with someone so far out of your league."

Gasping in offense, Gojo clutched his chest. "Out of my league? Sure, she's a pure angel, a real heavenly being, but I like to think I am, too!"

"Egotistical..." Kento mumbled as Gojo frowned. "I'm only telling you one thing to get you off my back. You can't ask me anything ever again in order to get close to her. That's on you."

Pressing his hands together and interlocking his fingers, Gojo gave his best puppy eyes as he jutted out his bottom lip. "Please, I promise to leave you be after!"

"You better," the blond man grumbled before giving his senior your name. "She likes to sit under the cherry blossoms on the eastern side of the campus. If you want to find her and talk to her, she's usually there on her down time." At that, Nanami stood up and tucked his seat back into the table. Just as he was about to leave, he stopped in his tracks, turning to face the white haired young man. "All I ask of you is to be... gentle. She's a nice girl. I don't need you breaking her heart."

Sitting up with confidence as a wide grin took over his face, Satoru nodded with his thumbs up. "Believe me, I wont! I know this is love!" Seeing Nanami roll his eyes before leaving, Gojo happily sighed before looking out the window. Leaning his chin in the palm of his hand, he eyed the cherry blossom that had petals delicately swaying in the wind. "She's my soulmate, I know we are destined to be."

[cleoluvrr]

strawberry shortcake (rafe cameron x reader)

got sent home to change 'cause my skirt is too short.

WARNINGS: mature content; dark!rafe, non!con, dub!con, spanking, use of belt, victim-blaming, manipulation, degradation, explicit language, depiction of explicit sexual acts

word count: 9.1k

masterlist

you and rafe were…complicated. you’d known him just as long as you’ve known his sister, and yet, you’d never had a particularly great relationship.

your father worked closely with the cameron family. he and ward met each other in college, but went their separate ways after graduation. ward returned to the outer banks after a few years of living on the mainland, slowly making a name for himself as a real estate developer. your own parents moved back to charlotte after graduating, meeting at school and getting married in their hometown. raised in the city, all of your family was there, and all your friends were there. 

one fated day, your parents decided that your entire family was going to pack up and move to the outer banks. you were eight years old at the time, so of course it felt like your entire life was falling apart. everything you ever knew was going to be miles and miles away just because your parents said so. 

it felt so sudden, so unexpected. as far as you were aware, there was no one you knew in the outer banks. your family had a beach house there that you would visit every other summer, but that was all. to you, they might as well have said that you were moving to a deserted island with zero human interaction.

the moment you arrived the summer before you started third grade, it was a complete culture shock. you were used to living in the city; busy streets, skyscrapers that kissed the clouds and lit up with the colors of the rainbow, and so many people that you’d never see them more than twice. kildare was the complete opposite. you could drive across the entire town and back in under two hours and the tallest building in town was a church. everybody knew everybody, and every person had their place.

you only found that after your parents were pulled over by a police officer while driving around figure-eight. it wasn’t too often people that looked like you drove around the “nice” side of town in a shiny, new car. not that they’d never seen it, but they knew all the people that did, and nobody in your family was one of them. you couldn’t count the number of times someone had asked if you were lost or ‘supposed to be here’ when playing around your front yard, taking a walk, or existing in any public place on figure-eight.

your parents allowed you a week to adjust before they threw you into the merciless waters of small town social politics. 

the first time you were properly introduced to the cameron family was during sunday service. you didn’t grow up going to church despite being from the bible belt, mostly because big city life didn’t revolve around it as much as it did in kildare. your parents forced you out of bed early in the morning to get ready, your mother all but stuffing you into the best sunday dress you owned. like any eight-year-old, you complained about it. you hated blue, but your parents insisted on all of your outfits being color-coordinated. the mary janes and frilly socks made you feel like a little kid, but your mom wouldn’t budge on it.

begrudgingly, you sat through an hour long sermon in a church filled with flamboyantly dressed rich people. and then you sat through another hour of brunch with the camerons and their friends, even more annoyed than you were sitting through service in the hot, old chapel.

ward and your father had kept in contact over the years, and it was a couple years before the move that the two of them became business partners. your dad became the cameron family’s lawyer, and it was easier to actually be in the same place as them rather than hundreds of miles away. your mother didn’t mind the move; in fact, she was excited. she worked as an oncologist back home, and the lack of them on the island meant there was great demand for her work.

it was there where you met sarah cameron, the girl that became your friend at first sight. she was younger than you, but at that age it really made no difference. the little blonde girl was excited to meet someone new and declared that you two would be ‘best friends forever just like your dads. though it took some warming up on your part, ever since that day, the pair of you have been attached by the hip.

rafe, however, not so much. 

“hey, sarah?” you called out to the girl standing across from you, her surprised eyes wide as they snapped towards yours after being pulled out of the conversation with her boyfriend. 

“yeah?”

“could you tell your brother to fuck off?” a smile lit up your face as the question slipped from your gloss-covered lips. “please?”

you had come over to sarah’s house a few hours ago, the girl inviting you to attend a large party that her parents planned every summer for the fourth of july. at first, you weren’t too keen on coming, but the two of you hadn’t spent much time together this summer and you felt too guilty to turn her down. this was the summer before you left her for nine months to attend college, and  even though you didn’t want to come, you did it to make her happy.

the moment you stepped foot onto the property, rafe buzzed around your ear like a common house fly with comment after comment on your appearance. 

“what’s the matter, princess?” rafe speaks up from his spot just a few feet away. his head quirks to the side, a look of faux-concern covering his face. “stick up your ass a little too big today?”

topper and kelce chuckle at the comment, attempting to hide the sound by clearing their throats when they catch the dangerous cut of your eyes. your gaze meet rafe’s again and you watch as he raises the whiteclaw to his lips, the white can covering the smirk on his face as he takes a sip.

when you first met rafe, he was nice enough–very cordial. the boy was only older than you by a a year, but he acted as if the difference was so significant that he couldn’t be seen around you. he wasn’t necessarily shy, but every boy that age was concerned with catching cooties. it was impossible to keep his distance, though, especially since your dads worked together and you were constantly over their house. you and rafe maintained a somewhat friendly relationship with each other for years–never getting as close as you and sarah, but it was amiable. 

that all changed when you got to the eighth grade.

the older boy had started his first year of high school, while you and sarah were still in middle school together. 

the difference in maturity was beginning to have an affect on your relationship with both of them. you were turning fourteen and sarah was turning twelve; it felt like you were in totally different worlds. she was starting to become more of a little sister to you than a friend, but you loved her no less than before.

rafe was only fifteen, but he was in high school now. he hung out with guys older than him, and that meant doing whatever to impress them. he had completely brushed you off as a ‘little girl,’ and acted like you were a burden to have around if you were at tannyhill while his friends were there. 

it hurt you at first. you knew the two of you weren’t close, but to be completely disregarded for people he barely knew didn’t make you feel great about yourself. 

you were naive to believe it’d be any other way.

when it was your turn to enter high school, you felt alone. sarah was still in middle school, and rafe treated you like dirt on the bottom of his shoe. it was like you had to start all over now that you didn’t have either of them to cling onto. it wasn’t hard for you to make friends, but you still felt alone without your best friend–and betrayed by her brother.

“rafe, stop! you’re being an ass.” sarah shoves her brother, eyebrows furrowed as she scolds her older silbing.

“what? it’s a joke, chill out.” rafe barely stumbles from the shove. his eyes remain on you, not even sparing his sister more than a second of a glance. “she can take a joke. right, y/n?”

“of course i can take a joke, rafe!” you tilted your head in the same manner as he did just a few moments ago. “remember that time you asked me out senior year? that was really funny.” 

a smile grazed your lips softly as you watched him freeze in place for the briefest second before regaining composure. both his friends and sarah snorted at the quip, catching onto the implication. nobody noticed the look shared between you and the oldest cameron, nor the rise in tension.

it was the summer before your junior year and rafe’s senior–two weeks before midsummers, to be exact. rafe hadn’t let up on what was the borderline bullying he’d been subjecting you to since you started high school; in fact, it had only increased that summer. you were at the cameron’s house almost everyday with sarah, and her brother didn’t spare you a moment of peace when you happened to come across each other on the property–or off of it.

rafe spotted you alone by the dock, tossing rocks into the water as you stared into the dimming light of the july sky. you knew it was him approaching because his feet were heavy against the twigs lining the ground, not light and nimble like sarah’s. 

“y/n,” he called out from behind you, towering presence warm at your back. he sounded nervous, which struck you as odd. when he spoke to you, his voice carried the weight of condescension or irritation–never the champagne bubbles of anxiety. it was obvious he was trying to disguise it, but you knew him too well for it to work. “can we talk?” 

you responded with a disinterested hum, throwing the last rock into the water before turning to face him. you expected him to say something stupid, the sole purpose of him catching you there alone to bother you until you went back to your own house.

what you were not expecting, however, was for him to confess his feelings–feelings for you. you could hear your ears ringing when he asked if you would go with him to midsummers, brain sparking up with disbelief and agitation at the sound of the words leaving his mouth.

there were no second thoughts when he was met with firm rejection. 

you weren’t sure why it caught him by surprise considering he’d been treating you like shit for three years, but he acted as if you shot him at point blank. though you never told anyone, you had a crush on him at one point as well. it began to feel more like hopeless pining after he began to treat you like an incessant fruit fly, which is why you got over it–for the most part, at least.

that’s when the mistreatment from him became a feud on both ends. you felt justified in your feelings towards him, and rafe having the audacity to be mad at you for turning him down only fueled the fire. 

the oldest cameron sibling had his own issues, ones that made him quick to anger towards everything and everyone for no reason, especially you.

“you think you’re funny, huh?” the blonde looks displeased by his friends’ reactions, jaw clenching in annoyance. he could dish it, but he couldn’t take it.

“as if you know what that is.” you raised your brows at him, a smile still covering your face. you reached out a hand towards him, palm landing gently on his broad chest in a false gesture of comfort. “its okay, rafey, not everyone is made for being funny. stick to being useless, okay? you’re amazing at that!”

shoving past the blonde, you walked in the direction of the house after telling sarah you were going to sit inside for a moment to hide from the heat. the coastal carolina humidity was taking a toll on you, and rafe’s presence was only adding to the irritation. 

you took your time walking around the house, the massive interior surrounding you on all sides. the sound of your shoes softly tapping against the ground was the only sound filling the air, the commotion of the party outside left behind the further you ventured. your feet carried you up the grand staircase gracefully, hips swaying with each step until you reached the top.

the mansion was not unfamiliar. you and sarah had run these halls together countless times over the years, no room left unexplored by the two of you–including rafe’s. 

out of curiosity, your eyes drifted in the direction of the boy’s bedroom. the door had been left wide open for anyone to walk in, and there was an invisible force pushing you to enter. it’s been years since you’ve explored it, the last time resulting in being caught by its inhabitant. memories of you and sarah snooping around his drawers flashed through your mind, rafe coming in and cursing the two of you with colorful words you’d never heard in-person before.

this time, rafe wasn’t here to stop you. he was far too occupied outside with his friends to interrupt your impulsive decision to explore his room once more.

you shuffled towards the open door of his room, head peeking into the empty space before stepping inside. the room hadn’t changed much from the last time you saw it; it was still reminiscent of a teenage boy, just much cleaner. your feet softly padded across the floor to the window on the opposite side, staring out of the window at the crowd below. 

the music was just barely audible through the thick glass, the little ants of people wandering around with cups in hand as they interacted with each other. eyes scanning the crowd, your brows furrowed together in confusion. kelce, sarah, and topper were right where you left them, but rafe was nowhere to be found the longer you searched over the attendees.

“maybe he left…” you said to yourself, shoulders raising in a weak shrugging motion.

“who?”

you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of the voice appearing in the background so suddenly, a scream bubbling in your throat before you turned around to meet it’s owner. the sight of rafe cameron standing in the doorway barely did anything to calm your nerves, his stern face and crossed arms only making you anxious.

“y’know–i could’ve sworn i told you to stay out of my room?” his blue eyes bored into yours, gaze unrelenting and intense as they awaited an answer for your presence. 

“what are you doing in here?” you were tempted to pinch yourself as the question slipped from between your lips. 

“this is my room,” he said pointedly. “what are you doing in here?”

you shrugged again, the nervousness that filled you moments ago dissipating the longer you faced him. the worst thing he could do is tell you to get out, there was no reason to feel anxious about his appearance. you pushed yourself off the window frame you were resting against to walk towards the door, ready to make your exit now that you’ve been caught.

“not going through your shit, if that’s what you’re worried about. i was bored–now i’m leaving.” you were at the halfway point of his room, eyes rolling nonchalantly as you brushed him off. “what are you doing?”

rafe entered the room fully, a look of mischief shining brightly from behind his eyes as your own flickered to the door that shut behind him with a soft ‘thud’. you could feel your brows pinch together ever so slightly at the sight before you met his face again.

you didn’t flinch when he began to approach you with slow, rhythmic steps. his legs were long and he could have easily made it to you in just a few but he deliberately took his time walking in your direction, each soft noise of his shoe hitting the ground spaced a second apart. 

“what for? not like you have anywhere to be,” his hands were stuffed into the pockets of his shorts and his head tilted to the side in a feigned curiosity that was clearly heard through his voice. “actually–i think we need to talk…”

the blonde stopped barely a foot in front of you. he wasn’t quite invading your personal space, just pushing against the boundary lines of it. your eye twitches involuntarily, but you say nothing.

pushing the boundaries was something rafe had been doing for a while. mentally and physically. it was part of what further pulled the string of tension between you two.

maybe it’s because he’s a guy, but there wasn’t a day you could go seeing rafe without him making comments on your body or touching you without permission. your chest, your backside, your lips, your eyes–there was nothing spared from his overtly sexual thoughts. you weren’t sure if he was doing it solely to piss you off or make you uncomfortable, but being either one did nothing to discourage him. 

in fact, it only served as motivation for him to continue.

it had been more times than you could count that rafe had groped you and claimed that his hand slipped–that you were overreacting. sometimes he wouldn’t even deny it; he’d blame you for wearing a too-short skirt or a top so small that ‘you had to have been wanting the attention or you wouldn’t have left the house like that.’ he had a habit of standing uncomfortably close to you, so close that you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back or the hair on his arms tickling your own.

you just brushed it off as him being obnoxious, slapping away wandering hands and giving quick-witted responses to the suggestive remarks. guys his age were assholes and because of how long you’d known him, you never let it bother you too much. or at least, you refused to let him know that it bothered you.

“i don’t think so, rafe.“ you eyed him suspiciously. “what could we possibly have to talk about?” your arms raised to fold across your chest, fingertips cold from the air-conditioning as they rested against your bare skin. 

if it weren’t so hot and sticky outside you would have worn pants, but the frilly, pink skirt adorning your bottom half was far too tempting to pass up in this weather. you could feel the goosebumps rising over your entire body from the coolness of the house.

rafe just stared for a moment. you could see the synapses firing behind the blue of his irises, and the sight unsettled you. the feeling of his eyes raking over your frame did nothing to shake the discomfort either.

“your attention-seeking behavior. your disrespectful attitude.” his gaze flittered back up to meet yours and you could make out the ghost of a smirk wash over his features. “it's becoming a problem, don’t ya’ think?”

“what?” that was not on the list of things you were expecting him to say. you couldn’t help the amused laugh that escaped your lips in a breath. “what the fuck are you talking about right now?” 

“what am i talking about?” his dark blonde brows come together in an expression of concern–one you were sure he was faking.

rafe’s tanned arm reached out towards you, long fingers grabbing a braid from your head and twirling the end around the digits. not abnormal behavior, but you still squinted at him anyway.

“you must be the stupid one if you don’t know what i’m talking about.”

a scoff left your mouth and your hand lifted to smack his away from your hair. your eyes nearly strained out of their sockets from the amount of restraint it took not to roll them, lids blinking away the urge that fought against them.

“bye, rafe.” your path was blocked when you tried to move around him, the tall man following your step before you could even finish making it. “move!”

he caught the hand raised to push him out of the way with ease, the strength in his grip restrained but still felt as it surrounded your wrist. every attempt to take it back into your possession failed, your opponent unrelenting.

startled, a gasp left your mouth when you were pulled forward roughly, rafe’s body pressed tightly against yours as he brought his free hand to rest on your lower back. the ghost on his face was now living, a grin widespread over his lips that showed off the whites of his teeth as he stared down at you. 

“stop touching me, you’re being a creep.” you didn’t raise your voice at him, but you were firm in your demand.

“oh, please,” he rolled his eyes at you, as if you were the one acting out of line. “i think you want me to touch you.”

the hand that rested on your back fell even lower, the entirety of his hand capturing your ass in its grasp. you inhale sharply, the roughness of his fingers squeezing down causing you to jerk forward in an attempt to escape. you were met with rafe’s warm chest trapping you between him and the hand gripping your backside through the fabric of the skirt keeping it covered.

“rafe!” you said loudly. “what the fuck is your problem?”

it’s not like he hadn’t touched you there before; he’d done it plenty. but those were only light brushes in passing or pinching you when you weren’t paying attention. things that he could pretend never happened, things that you could brush off as him being annoying.

this was not that.

“you walk around town in these itty, bitty skirts,” rafe’s smile was gone now, the mischief behind his eyes remained but it was mixed with something else–something you didn’t feel too keen about. “like you own the place–walking around my house like it’s yours. always acting like you’re better than everyone. like–like you’re above all of us. do you think you’re better than everyone, y/n?”

you shook your head at him, doing the best job you could muster at remaining calm despite the alarm bells ringing in your head. the free hand you were using to push his hand away from your ass was useless; he wasn’t budging. however, even with the little voice in the back of your mind telling you not to, you couldn’t help but to give a smart-assed reply.

“i don’t think i’m above everyone, rafe,” the corner of your lips twitched as you fought back the smile that wanted to appear. “just you.”

he chuckled at that, but not because he found it funny. it was obvious by the way his face darkened, which is what queued you into thinking that you should’ve just kept your mouth shut.

relief filled you when he released the clothed flesh of your behind from his vices, but only momentarily. your feet stumbled over each other clumsily as rafe walked forward with purpose, forcing you backwards until your the crease of your knees hit the bed. you remained standing, but if he were to push you again you’d certainly lose your balance.

the oldest cameron sibling was much…larger than you remembered. you saw him practically every day, but you couldn’t recall his biceps ever being this big as your hands held onto them to stabilize yourself. you’ve never felt intimidated when standing near him, but as you craned your neck upward, all you could feel was the fear bubbling in your stomach. faced with his towering height, he could easily overpower you if that’s what he wanted to do–and you had a feeling he did.

a chill ran down your spine.

“you come over here every day wearing practically nothing, swinging that pretty ass in my face like a fucking tease, and then treat me like you don’t know who you’re talking to.” he shakes his head in faux-disappointment, the sound of his tongue tutting against his teeth filling your ears. “i told you to stop doing it, but you refuse. if you weren’t begging for attention, you wouldn’t act like that.”

“are you being serious right now?” you were in complete disbelief. the fear in your stomach remained, but a pang of vexation was thrown into the mix. “the last thing i want is your attention, rafe. i already turned you down once–stop being weird about it. just ‘cause you can’t keep your dick in your pants doesn’t make me the problem.”

the tall blond’s eye twitched, lips raising like hackles as he all but snarled at you. 

both of his hands dropped suddenly, giving you zero time to react as he gripped the bottom of your skirt in his hands and yanked it upwards. a sound of surprise rolled out of your mouth and rafe took advantage of your shock to spin you around and push you face down onto the bed. your body barely bounced once before rafe was seated on the mattress next to you, strong arms reaching over to grab your legs and throw them over his lap haphazardly as he pinned your arms behind your back.

you felt him lean his upper body against you and apply force, preventing you from lifting yourself up off the bed and leaving you completely at his mercy. 

“rafe!” you scolded as he hiked up your skirt even higher and exposed you further. his position under you left you unable to lie flat, back arched uncomfortably with your pelvis resting on his muscled thighs. panic was beginning to fill you. “rafe, stop! what are you doing?”

he doesn’t respond, a bump silence filling the tense air. you could feel the heat of his scrutinizing gaze, unable to control your squirming as the warmth of his hand palmed at your barely covered skin. he massaged at the soft flesh, squeezing it between his fingers like he was being entertained by putty.

“you look so pretty in pink.”

a yelp escaped your lips when he brought his hand down against your ass with a resounding smack. he repeated the action on the other side with the same amount of force before half-assing an attempt at massaging away the sting. you hissed from the pain, his rough groping doing nothing to ease the feeling.

he hums to himself, hand pulling away to deliver another blow. you cursed at him, leg kicking up out of anger but able to do any real damage.

“y’know,” rafe says and you couldn’t help but huff in anger. “you brought this on yourself. we wouldn’t have to do this if you were just a nice girl.” you could hear the disappointment dripping from his voice and it enraged you.

“maybe i’m not nice to you because you’re a fucking dick.” he smacked you again. “fuck! stop, rafe!”

“and you’re a loud-mouthed bitch who needs to learn that actions have consequences.” 

if you thought he wasn’t holding back before, you were proven wrong. 

he spared you no second to recover from the barrage of smacks that he bestowed upon you. each time his hand raised, it reconnected just as mercilessly as it did before. all you could hear was the sound of skin on skin echoing throughout the bedroom, mind completely encompassed by the fiery heat produced by his palm against your ass. 

you wanted to scream out, cry for help from anyone that happened to be wandering the halls of the old manor. you didn’t though. not because you couldn’t, but because you were scared. scared that if someone did come to help, they would see you bent over rafe’s lap like a misbehaving child. scared that the someone who came to your rescue would be sarah–or ward.

the humiliation would kill you.

instead, you settled on continuing with your demands to stop. you swore at him, threatened him, kicked at him as hard as you could. you tried everything to get him to let up, but he refused. the sound of your voice was nearly drowned out by the deafening sound of your backside being brutalized.

you were sure if someone were to walk past, it could be heard on the other side.

“i’m going to fucking kill you, rafe!” you gritted out through teeth clenched so tight that you could pop a blood vessel. “you’re disgusting!”

the blue-eyed man tutted from above you, abruptly pausing his assault. unexpectedly he pushed your legs off his lap and rose to his feet, leaving you in a heap on the bed. you almost sung out a praise to whatever angel had been keeping an eye on you, finally taking pity on your bruised behind. it felt like you were on fire; face hot, skin sticky with the sweat from putting up a fight, and the site of rafe’s abuse burning from the phantom of his hand.

your eyes snapped in rafe’s direction, pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of metal. he’d taken off his expensive leather belt when he stood up, the accessory folded in half between his hands as his hardened, amused eyes stared down at you. your eyes flitted between his face and the belt in his hand nervously, throat bobbing as you swallowed dryly.

he predicted your movement before you could even make it, moving so fast that you thought he was transported to you. rafe caught your legs as you attempted to crawl away and pulled you back over the edge. your feet landed on the floor but your top half remained pinned to the mattress, a strong hand keeping you in place as you struggled against it.

“change of plans,” he whispered against your ear. you were sure he felt you shiver against his hold from the breath on your skin. “i tried being gentle–well, as gentle as i can be with you. clearly, that’s not teaching you anything. “

“haven’t you heard? corporal punishment is outdated and ineffective.” it was in your nature to argue with him, even when he had you pinned beneath him like a wolf would a rabbit. “i’m not learning anything except for how much of a pervert you really are–not that i didn't already know.”

rafe chuckled at this, very darkly. he pulled away from your ear and positioned himself behind you, the heat of his presence radiating in a way that was almost suffocating. the silence was so loud that you could barely hear the sound of the party outside, blood rushing past your ears thunderously.

you braced yourself, unsure of what his next move would be. however, he made no moves. the blond just stood there behind you ominously, keeping your hands pinned to your back as he watched you noiselessly. the temptation to look behind you was overwhelming, and it was then when he decided to act.

the belt made fierce contact with your sensitive skin the moment your head twitched, the stillness between you no longer. 

it took all of your strength to contain the scream that itched to leave your throat, a pained groan coming out from your gritted teeth. this was worse than his bare hand by miles, the fury of the leather leaving you thrashing with a single lick.

“i think,” he landed another strike to your ass after he spoke. “corporal punishment is very effective. it just takes a little…more to break through girls like you. it’s okay, though, you’ll learn.”

the belt comes down again and you couldn’t hold back the scream this time. 

he gave no time for you to recover, the viciousness of each swat intensifying each time it landed. it was loud, much louder than his hands and in your foggy mind you worried endlessly about what would happen if someone else were to hear.

you don’t move when he lets go of your wrists, body paralyzed from pain and fear. rafe takes hold of your barely there underwear and yanks them down, the fabric pooling around your ankles leaving you fully exposed and hot with embarrassment. he takes no time to look between your legs and quickly returns to delivering your punishment.

the comforter beneath you fell victim to the deathly grip of your now free hands, talon-like fingers digging into the fabric as you used it to brace yourself. tears ran down your face uncontrollably and every muscle in your body was tense from the torment.

“rafe, please!” you cried out, hardly able to form a complete sentence. “ow! stop, stop! i’m sorry!”

you weren’t even sure what you were apologizing for, but you couldn’t take the torture for much longer. you’d fix your mouth to say whatever it takes to get him off of you.

“how many times have i told you to stop dressing like a slut? huh?” you responded with a pained screech. he paired the question with another lashing, your cries for mercy doing nothing to garner any of his sympathy. “and yet, you still do what you please. so i’m going to do what ever the fuck pleases me.”

it felt like you’d been here for an eternity, but it’d probably been maybe twenty minutes. twenty minutes since you walked into his room like a dumbass instead of going to sarah’s like you planned on doing in the first place. twenty minutes wasn’t a long time, and nobody would come looking for you any time soon.

a sob racked through your body at that. your hands reached back to grab at his weapon of choice in a desperate effort to stop the battery, and in response rafe put them right back where they were against your spine.

“you want everyone to see your ass so badly,” the leather slashed through the air and landed on you with a crack. “so i’m gonna give you something to show ‘em.” 

you had been reduced to a pile of tears and tender flesh. rafe’s hands holding you down against the bed were hardly necessary; the both of you knew that you didn’t have the energy to fight back anymore. all you could do was scream, cry, and beg for him to end the attack against your poor ass. the welts on your flesh were beginning to form, you could feel it.

“stop crying.” he says from above you. you could practically hear the sound of his eyes rolling, but he paused the lashings anyways. “begging me to stop but–” he cuts himself off, his silence falling loudly on your ears.

the sound of the belt falling to the floor as he threw it into a random corner didn’t even register to you, the metal buckle thumping against the wall. all you could focus on was the hand between your quivering legs, and the throbbing sensation that you hadn’t noticed before. rafe’s fingers gliding against the wetness of your core made you flinch from being unprepared for his touch.

“you're leaking all over yourself…” shame washed over you in a tsunami-like wave, the feeling amplified by the wet sounds coming from where rafe’s hand meets the junction of your thighs. “i don’t think you want me to stop.”

“no!” you shouted. rafe let out a breathy chuckle as he watched you shake your head desperately against the mattress. “no more! please, i don’t want it...”

he hummed in response, fingers still toying with your dripping heat. they were just barely brushing over your clit, the bud swollen with need and twitching with every ghost-like touch. if you could scream, you would, but all you had the energy to do was whimper pathetically as he held you in place.

“hm, alright.” rafe’s agreeance made you release a shaky breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding. “i know what you do want, though.”

you felt his thick fingers grazing your entrance; just the pads of them. he was being a tease, letting you soak in the humiliation of being so adamant on him leaving you alone but having your body betray you. 

he leaned down once again, the softness of his lips tickling the shell of your ear. you swallowed dryly as you struggled to focus on anything other than his torturous fingers sitting idly between your puffy lips. 

“you want me to fuck this little hole open with my fingers,” he hummed again, the vibration of it sending a shockwave through your body. “wanna drool all over my hand with that messy cunt.”

you shook your head, squirming against his hold once again in an attempt to escape his curious fingers. 

“no?” he asked and you shook your head again. “i don’t believe that.”

he only removed his hand from your long enough to flip you onto your back, barely exerting any strength to do so. instead of holding you down by your wrists, you were planted against the mattress by your neck with a firm hand. your own fingers moved to wrap around his arm while his returned to the heat building between your legs. 

you gasped at the feeling of a long, thick digit pushing against the tight resistance as it coaxed you open enough to slip inside. with him between your legs you couldn’t close them–all you could do was lie there pathetically as he did what he wanted. 

“aw, you feel that?” he cooed at you, eyes flickering up at your face briefly before dropping back to his hand. “it slipped right in…i think you can take two, don’t you?”

a whine slipped out at the feeling of a second finger slipping past the barrier of your hole to join the first one. his fingers were way bigger than yours, fitting inside of you more snugly than you were used to. he pulled them out at a snail’s pace, purposefully dragging against your spasming walls before pushing them right back in.

“yeah, you take it real good.” he grinned smugly, clearly enjoying the juxtaposition of the pained look on your face and the way you desperately latched onto his two fingers. “don’t want it, but your pussy’s sucking me in…why’s that?”

you couldn’t answer–not when you were panting like a bitch in heat, trying and failing at catching your breath as rafe stole it away from you. your arousal leaked out over his fingers and there was nothing you could do to stop it. his fingers felt too good, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

he continued with the bare minimum for what felt like forever, probably waiting on you to give in and beg him to fuck you. unfortunately for him, you would never do that. your will was much too strong to do something as desperate as that, and you were basking in enough humiliation as is; you’d never give up the single sliver of pride you had left.

it was rafe who broke first. he said nothing as the speed of his fingers increased, eyes focused on every scrunch of your nose and the whines that forced their way past your bitten lips. the heel of his hand kept making contact with your clit and it made you want to start crying again.

“such a pretty girl,” his eyes raked over your clothed body in satisfaction. something about you having to walk around in the same clothes that he turned you out in got him off, while it made you think about throwing them into a bonfire or burying them in the deepest part of your closet. “getting so wet and needy from me welting up her ass. i think you’re the pervert here, not me.”

“uh-uhn.” you protested the accusation immediately, reaching down the push rafe’s hand away weakly. he looked amused. 

“you’re not?” the blonde moved back to stare at your cunt grooling all over his hand, fingers fucking the mess back inside over and over. “why are you so wet then?”

you didn’t have an answer to that. his fingers pulled out of you completely, using the wetness as more lubrication to spread over your swollen clit. the bucket of sparks in your stomach had long turned into a bubbling cauldron, and the attention to the needy button did nothing but make it burn hotter.

his fingers dipped back inside with much ease this time and you nearly died from the embarrassment. your brain was foggy yet defiant, but your body worked against you by welcoming everything rafe had to offer. 

“no normal girl would get wet from shit like that. screaming and crying, beggin’ me to stop–but look,” rafe shook his head at you, eyes hot as he watched your frame twitch beneath his hands. “you’re squeezing down on my fingers like you want ‘em in there forever.“

he was right. you were screaming, you were crying, you were begging him to stop. now you’re letting him spread you open and getting wet when you should be screaming for him to get off of you. 

what was wrong with you?

you had no time to think about that, not when he added a third finger without warning. a cry filled the air–yours–from the stretch. you were so full. he sped up again, too, treating you with little compassion as he watched ruined your sopping pussy with the thick appendages.

“so pathetic to be this wet for me,” he shook his head at you, lips pulled together in a pout. “you know it too. you should be ashamed.”

you were.

“you’re not even gonna stop me, look at your legs shaking.” he pointed out the way you couldn’t keep still.

he was right; you weren’t gonna stop him. you couldn’t.

the veins in his arms strained with each pump of his fingers, biceps bulging against the tight sleeves of his shirt. you could feel your juices dripping down your ass, your other hole fluttering in sync with the one being stuffed with three fingers. every part of your body was tingling and desperate to be touched, and you were rapidly losing control of yourself the closer rafe brought you to the edge.

he noticed it, too. the way you couldn’t stop clamping down around him, how you unconsciously ground into his palm, the dazed look in your eyes and the desperation in your voice as you lost the ability to hold back.

“look at you,” he said. his eyes were filled with lust, dark and glossed over as he observed your behavior. “ready to cum after putting up all that fight. dressed up in this tiny, little skirt; you were practically asking for this. so disgusting.”

your breath was uneven and you felt like you were going to pass out, mind dizzy and drunk with the forced pleasure. he showed no signs of letting up, digging you out with a fervor that you’d never experienced. the sound of your whining became higher pitched, tears pouring from your eyes as you tip-toed the cliff ahead of you. 

“you’re about to cum, huh?” you nodded your head at him, eyes wide and wet with the lubrication. “yeah? you wanna cum?”

you screamed, but not for the reason you wanted to. 

“no.” rafe pulled his fingers away right before you fell off the edge, leaving your hips bucking against the air as you were denied the release he was forcing upon you in the first place. “you’re not gonna cum unless i tell you to.”

you would have rolled your eyes and protested, but the feeling of his hand coming down against your bare pussy made you yelp. your clit jumped and your nipples were begging to be released from the constraints of your shirt, the pain giving you a kind of pleasure that you weren’t equipped to handle. he did it again, and again. he did it until you were fighting to push him away and close your legs.

“aw, does that hurt?” he pouted at you when you whimpered out some semblance of a ‘yes,’ which was rewarded with another slap. “good.”

it was agonizing; how deliciously painful it was. it was so much–too much. you were becoming dumb, all brain function replaced with the pulsing of your abused cunt. he continued to slap your clit, entranced by the way it twitched and your hole clenched around nothing.

“you want me to stop?” you couldn’t answer; you were too stunned to form a coherent sentence and it made you feel like an idiot. rafe took pleasure in that. “stupid girl, you can’t even say anything. so fucked out and easy for me.” 

you were tempted to push him away and get yourself off, but even through your foggy brain you knew he’d never let you get the chance.

“need to taste this pussy…” he mumbled to himself, not caring if you heard or not.

he dropped to his knees with eyes still focused on you as he blew against your exposed clit, both thumbs spreading your lips open. he wasn’t worried about you trying to escape anymore; not really. it was clear you were too dazed to do much of anything but pant like a dog and take his abuse. 

he finally gave you his tongue after waiting for you to whine for it, the wet muscle flattening against the whole of your sensitive core. the texture of the appendage on your clit had you writhing, legs trapped in his hold and prevented from clamping down around his head.

you trembled as he lapped up your wetness, grinding against his face as he buried himself deep into your wetness. he was like a man starved, licking up your arousal as it spilled out of you in an endless fountain. the plush pillows of his lips encapsulated your clit, sucking on it roughly as he brought his fingers back down to fuck you open. 

your head fell back from the intensity, cries tumbling out of your mouth clumsily as he laved against your rosy bud.

everything was so wet.

“don’t you dare fucking cum.” rafe growled, pulling away from your pussy. his fingers kept going, but he kept his eyes on you now. it was impossible to ignore the way you pulsed around him. “i’m not gonna stop, so you better hold it.”

a broken wail left you and you wanted to curl into a ball. this was just as much of a punishment as being beaten with the belt in the corner, you were now discovering.

“please…” the rope in your stomach was being sawed in half by the second and you weren’t going to last much longer. “i can’t…”

he rose to his full height, staring down at your messy for; thighs covered in sticky precum with your skirt crumpled up at your waist. your skin was hot to the touch and covered in a thin layer of sweat, face wet with tears stains and eyes filled with lust fueled desperation. his fingers worked purposefully in the deepest parts of your pussy that you’d never been able to explore yourself. 

“taking me so fuckin’ deep, princess.” he teased you with his words, his voice only adding difficulty to holding back from cumming all over his merciless fingers.

“rafe…” you couldn’t tell him off; not when you were getting so close, so fast.

“‘rafe…’” he mocked the pleading tone in your voice. ocean blue eyes flickered up towards your own, dark with arousal as he watched you squirm. “you sound so pathetic.”

you could feel your thighs tensing as you tried your best to hold back. you didn’t know what he would do if you came without permission, but it was getting hard to care. his fingers were hitting repeatedly against a spot that had you seeing white and holding your breath. 

rafe let you stay like that for a while, desperately hanging on by a thread as he watched. 

“okay,“ he said, head tilted to the side. “you can cum–but i’m not gonna give it to you.”

“rafe!” you yelped. he pulled his fingers out and delivered a final smack to your already abused clit, smirking at your reaction. 

reaching up towards your face, rafe squished your cheeks together until your mouth was forced open. you audibly protested when he brought his wet fingers to your lips, the smell of your arousal invading all of your senses. your noises of defiance were ignored as he shoved the digits into your mouth. he coated your tongue with the wetness covering his fingers, fucking your mouth in the same way he used your other hole.

you couldn’t stop the saliva that fell from your mouth; it leaked down the sides of your face uncomfortably and you wanted to wipe it away. 

“you can go home later, and rub that dirty little cunt to the memory of this.” you stared up at him wide-eyed, mouth stuffed and clit pulsating at the wanton actions being performed on you. “every time you pick out a skirt to wear, you’re gonna sit on that welted up ass and you’re gonna think about how wet you got from my belt tearing you up.”

he watched you shift uncomfortably on your bare, bruised behind, but showed you no pity. 

the sting of it brought you back to reality, the weight of what just occurred finally coming to your clearer mind. rafe’s hand gripped your jaw and tilted it upwards to bring your attention back to him. the fear that you felt earlier bubbled back up. 

your mouth was relieved from the violating digits grazing the back of your throat. wet fingers slapped against your cheek twice, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to make you wince from the sting.

“still think you’re above me?” rafe asked, face lowering to just mere inches away from yours. you shook your head the best you could, jaw still under the steel grip of his hand. “you–you should be thanking me, really…i’m older than you, remember? your job is to respect your elders, and my job is to correct you.”

you say nothing; not that you could anyway. he lowered his hand, pulling it away from your jaw and resting it on the circumference of your exposed neck. the tall man hummed at you, head tilting to the side like a puppy as he observed your disheveled form beneath him.

“i did it so that nobody else has to, y/n. jus’ looking out for you like i’m supposed to–even though you don’t deserve it.“ you blinked at him, prompting the fingers lying limply at your neck to squeeze as a warning. “say ‘thank you, rafe.’ you can do that right? ‘thank you for looking out for stupid little girls like me.’” 

you gulped away the part of you that wanted to spit out a curse at rafe, resistance vibrating deep in your bones. this had to be more humiliating than being spread out over his fingers, you thought.

“thank you, rafe.” the voice that came out sounded pained, and rafe could tell. he tutted at you, clearly dissatisfied.

“i don’t think you mean that…do you want the belt on your pussy this time?” his eyebrow quirked up at you, amused clear in his eyes as he watched your own widen in panic.

“no! no, i really mean it!”

his free hand landed between your legs again as it delivered the stinging punishment of his palm once more. 

“then fucking act like it.” rafe snarled at you, the heat of your center against his taunting hand. “‘thank you for looking out for me, rafe. you’re so good to me.’ and you better fucking mean it.” 

“thank you for looking out for me, rafe. you’re s’good to me!” you cried out weakly. rafe continued to slap at your achy clit with his flattened fingers, wordlessly telling you he wasn’t satisfied with your response. “i’m stupid ‘nd i don’t deserve–ah! i don’t deserve it. i’ll be nice, i promise!”

happy enough with your gratitude, he relented. he pulled his hand away from your quivering lower lips and stepped back, allowing your legs to fall shut and guard your crying, battered cunt from the cool air blowing against it from the ac.

“you’re welcome.”

you watch from your spot on the bed as rafe picks up your discarded underwear from the floor. he shoves the item in his pocket, leaving you bare with nothing to protect yourself. standing from your position on the mattress, your legs wobbled like a young doe before straightening themselves to their full length. 

you’d never felt so violated, so defeated. what made it even worse was the way your body still tingled with need. the feeling was deep inside you, walls clamping down on the phantom of rafe’s manly fingers. he was right, and it brought a cloud of shame that rained down on you. the first thing you’d do when you got home is stuff yourself with your own and pretend they were his. every time you sat down and felt the sting of his punishment, you knew you’d leak just like you were right now.

how could you call him a creep, a pervert? how could you call him disgusting when you were the one making a mess all over him after being held down and beaten?

feelings of guilt weighed heavy on your chest. you could pretend that none of this ever happened, but rafe would never let you forget; there’s no way he’d ever let it go.

shaking away the thoughts plaguing your mind, you pulled yourself together the best you could. a hiss sounded out through the room as you pulled the skirt down from around your waist.

the last thing you wanted to know was how bad your ass and thighs looked, the raised skin evidence enough as it painfully rubbed against the fabric of your skirt. rafe opened the door of his bedroom in a swift motion to reveal an empty hallway, eyes staring pointedly at you. the sound of your swift feet echoed off the floor, legs carrying you the fastest that they possibly could without tripping over each other.

before you made it past the threshold, rafe snatched your arm up into his grip. he leaned down to meet you at eye level, closely examining the way your breathing hitched.

“and stay the fuck out of my room."

[pomefioredove]

ace with, "I like my bed, but I'd rather be in yours." 😚🤌

HELP ME he's so cringe he'd 100% say something like this

summary: "I like my bed, but I'd rather be in yours" type of post: short fic characters: ace additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, secondhand embarrassment warning, random halloween(??) party for plot reasons, not proofread

Heartslabyul has never turned a guest away from a party.

Ace had become accustomed to it. There's always someone out of place at the table- the purple of a Pomefiore uniform or the green of a Diasomnia, pointed ears or catlike ones, tall, short, students Ace hadn't even seen passing in the halls.

And having a costume unbirthday didn't make recognizing anyone any easier. Why did they agree on this, again?

"What's this one?" he asks, accepting a tart dish from Trey.

The stressed upperclassmen adjusts his glasses. "Raspberry, I think- no, strawberry. I'm losing track,"

"Yeesh," Ace mutters, looking out the window to the grounds. There's more than three times the dorm out there.

"Mondays, amirite?"

Trey just sighs.

Ace carries the dish to one of the many tables set about the gardens.

This one is empty. He looks over his shoulder; Riddle is busy berating another first year for chewing with his mouth open. No one has noticed the fresh tart yet.

He might as well sneak a slice while he still can...

"Ace!"

Sevens. Ace flinches and the slice of tart slips right out of his grip.

Now he's going to have to clean that up, and without anyone noticing, too. Sigh.

"I know it's Halloween, but you shouldn't scare people like that," he says, turning to the source of the noise. "You-"

As soon as he sees you, his thoughts are cut short.

You're just some rando in a corny masquerade getup, but, damn, you're cute.

No way he's never seen you before- no, you've gotta be from another class. He'll have to pester Jack about it later...

"Oh, sorry," you say. The mask you're wearing makes it hard to read your expression, but he assumes you noticed the tart.

Your voice is vaguely familiar, but it's hard to hear with all the background noise, anyway.

Ace puts on his worst best smile. "Nah, it's fine. The vice housewarden is on full-time catering duty. No one will notice. So, you come here often?"

You snort. "Yeah, I guess I do. What's up with you?"

He got a laugh out of you. That's a good sign, right?

Now, time to go in for the kill.

Ace huffs, trying to act nonchalant. "What's up with me? Nothing much, just thinking about how I like my bed, but I'd rather be in yours,"

A long, terrible silence follows.

And then you laugh. And laugh, and laugh. Ace grimaces. It's hard to tell if it's a good laugh or a bad one from your voice alone.

"Hey, what're you two 'doin?" a much smaller voice asks.

Grim is standing between the two of you now, paws on his hips, mouth half-full of cookies from the other table.

"Buzz off, Grim. Can't you see I'm busy?" Ace murmurs.

Then, much to his horror, the mystery student across from him takes off their mask and scoops Grim up like a baby.

He could die right then and there.

"YOU?!"

"Me," you say.

Grim doesn't seem particularly interested in the context, though he is smirking at the dumb look on Ace's face.

"But you- you're-" he stammers, his face almost as red as his hair. "I didn't even- recognize you! How-"

It's hard to get such a reaction out of him, the "lady killer" he is, and he swears he can see a little smugness in your expression.

Ace groans. "You can be a real jerk sometimes, you know,"

You wipe your eyes, sighing merrily. "No, no, don't stop! I want to hear another! Do you want me to put the mask back on?"

"A real jerk!" he repeats, fleeing the scene before he can say something even dumber.

At least Trey will be happy to have another set of hands in the kitchen...

So much for romance. He huffs and takes a tart out of the oven.

Note to self: pick a better line to ask you out with.

[idyllic-ghost]

title: Strawberry Jazz; Love on the Train to Tokyo pairing: non-idol!seungkwan x reader genre: fluff, romance, strangers to lovers, neighbor au warnings: mentions of bad relationships, alcohol consumption, drunk kiss, slight angst synopsis: In an attempt to let go of your past, you travel to a new city and pretend to be a new person. On the train to Tokyo, you meet a handsome stranger but miss the opportunity to get his name and number before you part ways. Lucky for you, your fates seem to be intertwined as you meet again just a few hours later. wordcount: 9.4k taglist: @enhacolor, @shuabby1994, @junhui-recs, @dkakapizzaboy, @just-here-to-read-01, @loviehan, @userjunhuii, @novalpha, @bubblymoon, @aaniag, @d0nghyuck, @fantasy2wonderland, @seunghancore, @woozixo, @niktwazny303, @lllucere, @uniq-tastic, @wonwoospartyhat, @stariightjoyy, @hyneyedfiz, @cali-snow, @pearlygraysky, @crazywittysassy, @yeosayang rating: PG 13

a/n: this is a collab with @svthub, click here for the masterlist!

Disclaimer: The scenarios and depictions in my works are fictional and do not represent real-life situations. They do not aim to reflect the complexities of any culture, city, or individual. All characters are entirely fictional, regardless of names or descriptions.

Join my taglist // Masterlists

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The many rows of seats are packed with people - as far as the eye can see, there isn’t a single free spot for you to sit down. When the train starts moving - at first slow, but quickly gaining speed - you almost lose your balance. Grabbing hold of the nearest seat, possibly brushing your hand against someone’s head, and holding onto your luggage for dear life, you manage to keep yourself on your feet. Your face grows hot, as you mumble out apologies to the man you accidentally slapped and the people you backed into behind you. Now prepared for the speed of the train, you keep moving forward.

Every row of seats you pass disappoints you. Whenever you think there’s an empty spot for you, there’s either a child in the seat or too much luggage tucked away - even if they were trying to be helpful by playing Tetris with their bags, they just had too many bags. As you watch the people in front of you take what seems to be the only empty seats on the train, you start losing hope. You accept that you would probably have to find a corner for you and your bag to stand in. You only have your backpack and a suitcase with a month’s worth of clothes and other necessities, so squeezing against a wall wouldn’t be impossible. However, it wasn’t how you imagined spending the first few hours of your time in Japan. Despite having flown to Osaka partly for the scenic route the bullet train would take you on, you would have to settle for staring at the floor so as not to meet other people’s eyes. Maybe it would have been better to fly directly to Tokyo, even if you had to decline the surprisingly low price of your plane ticket to Osaka.

The cheap flight settled it for you. You were set on flying to Osaka and taking the over two-hour train ride from the Shin-Osaka station to Tokyo station. Now you are less sure about your decision, but a few weeks ago it seemed foolproof. After sleeping on your friend’s couch for nearly a month, anything else seems like a dream. Going to Tokyo is one of your dreams, it always has been, but now it felt like it had been fate. The night you had seen the short-term rental on the outskirts of the big city, it felt like the universe was paying you back for all the hurt it had caused. You needed a fresh start - or rather, a chance to not be you for a while. Ever since your ex broke up with you, you’ve been down on yourself and this trip would change that. You are certain.

You remember sitting on your friend’s couch that night. She was on the floor, drunkenly muttering to herself while you were scrolling on your computer. Seeing as you weren’t sober either, you can’t remember exactly why you were on your computer. It might have been an attempt to find a movie to watch, but your endless scrolling brought you to a website with cheap rentals in Tokyo. One in particular caught your eye; it was a short-term lease for the entire month of June, near a train station, and it wouldn’t completely break your bank. Maybe it was because it was up for rent in the middle of the rainy season, but you believed the cheap prices had to be a sign for you to go. So, you started planning your trip then and there.

Ever since then, you have been looking forward to it. Now that you are here, it was a little chilly and you were desperately tired - but a sense of calm had settled in your chest. Your limbs are light, and nothing holds your shoulders in an embarrassed slouch. Despite the train catastrophe, the small, yet bright, light in the cavern between your ribs keeps burning. As you keep walking, your consciousness stays in your head - thinking back to when you had just booked the trip. You’re so deep in thought that you don’t notice a man calling out for you, not until he grabs your arm.

"There’s a seat for you here," he says.

The very first thing you notice about this stranger is his smile. It’s the kind of smile that meets the eyes - he isn’t just being polite, he is sincerely offering you the seat beside you. When you look past him, you can see the small line he is stalling. You quickly thank him and move to the side to let others pass. His hand lets go of your arm, and he sits back down. The handprint on your arm is giving off a warm glow, that you’re sure only you can see. Once the walkway is open, you try to put your suitcase on the overhead rack. The stranger is quick on his feet again and helps you put your bag up. When the two of you finally push your heavy bag onto the rack, you thank him again before sitting down. It isn’t a window seat, but it’s better than standing in a corner.

"Where are you headed?" the stranger asks.

"Tokyo," you answer as you put your backpack under your seat.

"Oh! Me too!" He flashes his smile again, and you feel like melting.

He’s handsome, the kind of boy-next-door you’d bring home to your parents, and the air around him is wholesome. Everything about him is delicately intentional, from the put-together outfit to his silver jewelry. This stranger is “too good to be true” personified. 

"Do you have any plans in Tokyo?" he asks, bringing you out of your bewitched state.

"Not exactly," you admit. "I mean, I looked up a few spots that I’d like to visit… but nothing’s set in stone yet."

You’ve never pictured yourself as a person who casually talks to strangers, and yet here you are. There’s something easy about talking to him as if there isn’t a judgmental bone in his body. Despite the sad amount of things you’ve planned, Seungkwan still looks at you like he’s fully invested in your journey.

“I’ve looked up a few cafés,” he says, “If you want some recommendations, I can give you my list.”

As if he couldn’t get any more endearing, your next-seat neighbor pulls out a small, navy blue notebook. It’s leather-bound and has a small latch that keeps it shut with a magnet. The stranger opens it up and flips to a page at the beginning of the book. There, in neat handwriting, is a written list of café names - written in Korean with a carefully written translation in Japanese beside it. You look over the names and the stars he’s put beside them, indicating the ratings they have been given.

“Your handwriting is very nice…” you comment as your fingers gently graze the paper. “Do you mind if I take a picture? I haven’t planned on any café stops yet.”

“Go ahead.” He nods with another warm smile.

After taking a picture, you put your phone back in your bag and thank the stranger for the recommendation. The stranger nods and packs his notebook back in his bag. Your eyes linger on him just for a moment, the lighting almost making him look ethereal. A small bump on the rail makes you snap out of it, and you go to look for your headphones in your backpack - but you’re left with nothing. With a sigh, you lean back in your seat at the realization that you left your headphones in your luggage to leave space in your backpack.

“You okay?” The man beside you gains your attention yet again.

“I put my headphones in my luggage after I got off the plane,” you say with a pained smile.

“Oh, I always hate it when I do that,” he says with genuine sympathy - it surprises you how a stranger can feel for you this way. “I could lend you one of my earbuds if you don’t mind listening to my playlist.”

If it had been any other stranger, you might have said no. However, the man beside you intrigues you to no end - so you end up accepting his offer. You put in the earbud and smile as you hear a familiar tune. You can’t seem to place it, but the melody brings back memories that you had since long forgotten - your school days, the times when you had no worries and could simply exist as a kid. As your muscles relax, you let out a content sigh - was it too good to be true, or were you so lucky to have sat next to such a wonderful man? It doesn’t take long for the adrenaline of the busy day you’ve had to wear off, and for you to drift off to sleep. 

When you wake up, your body aches to move - as if you had sat in the same position for your feet to root into the floor and for your skin to turn into bark. To make sure your limbs haven’t turned into twigs and leaves, you stretch out the best you can. In the process, you knock out the earbud in your ear and startle the man beside you.

“Oh, I’m sorry- did I wake you?” you whisper to him.

“It’s alright, I had only barely fallen asleep,” he assures you with a lopsided smile. “You must have been tired, though.”

“How long was I out?”

“We have ten minutes left.” He takes out his earbud, puts the wires in his lap, and turns off his playlist. “You must’ve been tired, I haven’t seen anyone sleep through a baby crying like you were.”

“I was tired,” you admit with a chuckle. “I didn’t snore, did I?”

You took up your bottle of water from your bag, your throat must have gotten dry during your sleep and you desperately needed water. 

“Oh, no. Not at all, actually. I thought you were dead for a good minute.”

Your seat neighbor’s comment made you snort, successfully making you choke on the water in the process. As you cough, the man beside you tries to find tissues for you in a panicked manner. He grumbles as he looks, but all you hear is something about his backpack being a mess. Eventually, he gives up and reaches for a side pocket. There he pulls out a white handkerchief with some blue embroidery on it. He hands it to you, and you wipe the water that had spilled all over yourself.

“Thank you,” you croak out.

“Here.” He motions to take the bottle from you.

You give it to him, and he carefully puts on the cap for you before handing it back to you.

“I’m sorry about your handkerchief,” you say.

“Don’t worry about it.” He motions with his hand as if to nonverbally say ‘whatever’. 

“I’ll wash it and give it back to you,” you promise.

To that, he turns his head to you with a glimmer in his eyes and a small shy on his lips. You didn’t realize that you had implied that you should meet up again, but as you look at him you discern that you don’t mind.

“I’d like that.”

“The train is now approaching Tokyo Central Station.”

Your seat neighbor helps you down with your luggage and the two of you make your way off the train. The carriage itself is packed, but there are only more people outside of it. You walk through them the best you can, repeatedly excusing yourself as you push yourself toward the escalators. Only when you get up the escalator, do you realize that you lost your seat-neighbor. Moreover, you realize that you don’t have his name or number.

“Shit,” you mumble as you look around.

There is no way you’ll find him, you think as you approach a taxi. If you’re lucky, you might bump into him at one of the cafés he had written down - but the chances are slim. With a heavy feeling in your chest, you manage to flag down a taxi and get in.

The apartment you rented for the month is on the outskirts of Tokyo, in a somewhat quiet area with access to public transport. It is perfect for the days you’ll want to spend inside - though you don’t know how many days that’ll be. The building’s outside is almost the same as you saw in the picture online, even though the images were dated. The walls are beige and, except for a few areas which reveal the building’s age, are unscathed. It is a three-story, rather small building, with a black roof and relatively large square windows. The owner, who you met up with outside, gives you a key and says that your apartment is on the top floor. Despite giving you directions to your temporary home, he still guides you to your front door. 

The stairs are on the outside of the building, and the owner carries your luggage up them for you. At first, you hesitate, worrying that his old age wouldn’t allow him to carry something so heavy up two flights of stairs. However, there seems to be something magical about this old man - as he carries up your bag without a single huff or puff. 

“This is your apartment,” he says as he sets down your bag outside the door. “If you go further up the stairs, you get to the roof where the guests usually hang up their clothes. I have my area downstairs, so you’ll have your privacy- except for the other guests, of course. But it’s just the two of you, so you’ll have plenty of space.”

“You have another guest?” you ask as you go to unlock the door.

“In the apartment under you,” he explains. “He got here just minutes before you. Nice, young man. I’m sure you can make arrangements for the clotheslines. Feel free to come knock at my door if there are any issues with the shower - I’ve had complaints before, but it’s usually easy to fix.”

“Alright, thank you.” You smile at him, nodding your head before opening the door to your new home.

On the other side of the wooden door, is a small yet cozy room. It’s fully furnished, housing a bed, a coffee table with chairs, and a kitchenette all in this first room. It’s small, you knew it would be. The space is just enough for you and your small amount of luggage. You put your bag down beside the bed to go exploring, quickly finding the bathroom - also small but it held all of the essentials, as well as a small window right above the shower to let the natural light shine on the tiled walls. After finding the door hiding the washing machine, you looked through the entire apartment.

After unpacking and making yourself at home, you rummage through your backpack to find the small handkerchief. Now that you have a closer look at it, the blue embroidery on one of the corners is a profile of Snoopy the Dog. You smile to yourself, gently running your thumb over the carefully stitched pattern. It felt like an intimate secret to hold it in your hands, a look into someone else’s life - someone whose name you don’t know, and probably never will. As your fingers grace the fabric, you can feel that it’s still a little damp from when you used it to dry yourself off. You sigh, a feeling of regret striking you as you realize that this handkerchief might never find its way back home. But what if it does? Are you going to hand it to him with the stain of your water and spit? Absolutely not. With newfound determination, you get up and walk out of your apartment - walking up the stairs to find a washboard. 

The rooftop looks as you had imagined: a smaller area for the clotheslines, next to the slanted, black roof - there is a small door on the short wall holding up the roof, no doubt leading to the attic. The door is not the only thing catching your attention, as a man is sitting on the small table on the roof.

“Oh, hello,” you say to not scare him with your sudden presence.

The man stands up and turns around, and your breath catches in your throat. It’s the man from the train. Your steps halt, and words linger on the tip of your tongue but nothing comes out.

“You,” he says with wide eyes. 

“Me,” you answer, you fidget with the handkerchief. “I was just thinking about you- I mean, I found this and I thought I should wash it in case I saw you again.”

“You’re going to hand wash it?” He walks toward you and you force your feet into the ground to not back away. “I can throw it in with my laundry later.”

He holds out his hand to you and you put the handkerchief in his hands. Now that you have nothing to do on the rooftop, you know that you should say your goodbyes and leave - but you can’t bring yourself to do so. 

“I didn’t mean to run away from you at the station,” you say, “I was just trying to find my way out, and I guess we got separated.”

“I get it.” He nodded. “I got stuck in a crowd, and then it hit me that I never caught your name… it’s hard to call out for someone when you don’t know their name.”

Your jaw went slack and your eyes widened - you didn’t know his name. The two of you looked at each other for a beat, before breaking out into laughter. The tension started dissipating as you looked back at him with a big smile. It was a strange situation, but neither of you seemed to mind.

“Y/L/N Y/N,” you tell him. 

“I’m Boo Seungkwan,” he replies and stretches out his hand for you to shake. “Nice to meet you.”

You take his hand and shake it - his hand is warm and comforting, like a blanket on a chilly summer evening. What brought the two of you together, you didn’t know - but you’re thankful that it did. After shaking his hand you bid him an awkward goodbye, and start walking down the stairs.

“Do you have plans tonight?” His question makes you turn around.

“Plans? No, I was just going to get some groceries and stay in,” you admit.

“Well, if you want to come with me, I was thinking of going to a Jazz café.” His voice stays strong, but his eyes show his nerves as they look everywhere but at you.

“That sounds nice.” You smile at him. “When are you planning on going?”

An hour or so later, both you and Seungkwan are out in Tokyo. Seungkwan is looking for directions on his phone, guiding you through the city. Neither of you speak much, the tension from before having returned. It’s only when you arrive at the café that Seungkwan starts speaking to you again. 

“Do you want to sit in a booth?” he asks as the two of you walk into the cozy room.

It’s a dark room, with a jazz band playing in one of the corners, and people sitting at every other table. It isn’t packed by any means, but it’s still bubbling with energy. You agree to a booth seat, and the two of you find your way over to a free one. After ordering your drinks, the two of you are left to yourselves again. The tension’s there, but now it’s inviting and almost pulling you into a conversation. Seungkwan’s looking around the bar, and doesn’t notice your staring - so, you happily stare for a while. His fingers were drumming anxiously against the table, something you used to find annoying but now it’s nothing but endearing. 

“How did you find this place?” you ask, gaining his attention again.

“I’ve been wanting to go to Tokyo for a while,” Seungkwan explains, “So I did a lot of planning in advance to make sure I could see as much of it as possible.”

You nod while silently condemning yourself for not doing the same. In truth, you had come to Tokyo on a whim - and even though you’ve been wanting to visit for a while, you didn’t spend nearly as much time as you maybe should have when researching. The drinks arrive, and the two of you thank the waitress.

“Why did you decide to go to Tokyo?” he asks once the waitress left.

A vivid memory of loud arguments and slamming doors hit you as his question reached your ears. You look down at your drink, the ice in it slowly melting and blending with the cocktail, taking a moment to compose yourself before looking back at Seungkwan with a smile.

“I needed a fresh start,” you admit. “I’ve been sleeping at my friend’s place for some time, and I needed something to get me back out in the world again.”

“So, your first thought was Tokyo?”

“Well, it’s been a dream of mine too,” you add with a flick of your hand as if it isn’t particularly important. “I saw the opportunity and took it.”

It’s embarrassing, how casual your reason is compared to his - or maybe it’s just how you told it. Seungkwan, however, looks at you as if he’s heard the most interesting thing in his life. His eyes are bright and present, and he wears a small smile. The bad memories his question brought back are now gone.

“I wish I could be that spontaneous,” he says and takes a sip of his drink - his tone is laid-back but his eyes show his nerves. 

“Why can’t you?” you question.

Seungkwan pauses and looks out over the bar for a moment. You can tell that he’s earnestly considering your question - and you half-expect him to jump up on the table and start singing, as if in some kind of musical about finding oneself. He doesn’t, of course, but you snicker at the thought and it gains you Seungkwan’s attention back.

“Well, I really don’t know,” he stumbles over his words, “It’s just who I am. I plan ahead.”

“Do you have a lot of plans for this trip?” you ask, and you watch Seungkwan relax at the change of topic.

“A few,” he admits. “Most of it is just walking around and sightseeing.”

“Well, if you want,” you say, “you can spend a few days being spontaneous with me.”

The piano player plays a small solo, their fingers violently speeding across the keys to produce a sound that is somehow both coherent and incomprehensible. Seungkwan stares at you, his eyes wide with anticipation - you could practically hear him thinking: “What will this lead to? Should I say yes? Is this a good idea?” He opens his mouth, just as the saxophone player joins in on the riff. The two of you laugh as you wait for them to finish, your shoulders finally relax fully, and the annoying bubbling feeling in your stomach has subsided.

“Yeah, let’s go out together sometime,” Seungkwan answers after the players have calmed down. “We live next to each other, anyway, so it would only be awkward if we don’t.”

“Great.” You raise your glass in his direction. “To being spontaneous.”

“To being spontaneous,” he repeats as he clinks his glass with yours.

You wake up the next morning to the sun blaring in through the thin blinds - they’re nothing like the black-out curtains in your friend's apartment, and you make a mental note to get some for your future place in Seoul. With vigor, you rip the covers off of you and put your feet on the cold hardwood floor. You make a second mental note to make sure to get a good rug for your future bedroom, while you tip-toe over to your belongings in the corner of the room. In your unpacked suitcase, you find a pair of knitted socks - brought just in case - and put them on. Once your feet aren't being tortured by the chilly floor, you go to the bathroom and freshen up. A sudden urge to sing and dance struck you, as you realized you had no roommate you could possibly bother with your noise - a new sense of freedom echoed in your ribcage, like a warrior’s cry before a fierce battle.

However, your newfound happiness dulls when you go into the kitchen and find no food in the fridge. You completely forgot to get groceries. A sigh escapes your lips as you trudge around the room to find an idea. Passing by the window, you catch a glimpse of your new neighbor coming home. Seungkwan looked like he had just been out on a jog. You look over at the clock and see that it’s only nine-thirty. The shock and envy of his good life habits leave you once you come up with an idea.

You get out of your apartment quickly, only throwing on a cardigan over your tank top and pajama pants before leaving, and you sprint downstairs to knock on Seungkwan’s door. He opens the door rather quickly.

“Good morning,” you pipe up.

“Morning,” he answers with an incredulous smile. “Do you need something?”

“Yeah…” You take a deep breath as if you’re about to tell him something very serious. “Do you have breakfast?”

“I think you’ve confused me with a hotel,” he quips.

“I know, I’m sorry- I just didn’t have time to get groceries yesterday and now I have no breakfast,” you explain. “I don’t mean to bother you- I’ll even pay for whatever I can borrow-”

“I don’t have anything either,” he admits and, when he sees your sad expression, adds, “You can come with me to the supermarket if you’d like. I spotted one on my run, and it looked like they were about to open. Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll walk with you!”

As you and Seungkwan stroll to the grocery store, you take in the charming surroundings of our neighborhood. The store is just a few blocks away, and it's a pleasant walk that only takes a couple of minutes. It’s a small and cozy neighborhood store, known for carrying only the absolute necessities. Seungkwan carries a grocery basket on his arm, and you start putting in any breakfast items that catch my eye. We decide to just grab breakfast items for now and come back for other groceries when you're not feeling so hungry.

As the sun rises, the small store is alive with the chatter of early-morning shoppers, creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere. Navigating the narrow aisles with Seungkwan by your side feels cozy and intimate like you're on a special adventure together. The shelves are packed with an array of tempting items, each one seemingly more delicious than the last. Your stomach grumbles with hunger, but you can't help but be captivated by the variety of products on display. Finally, you come across a container of plump, juicy strawberries. Despite their hefty price, you and Seungkwan decide to share them, exchanging a meaningful, wordless glance that solidifies your unspoken pact.

Back at your apartment, you and your new friend eagerly started the delightful task of preparing a leisurely breakfast in the inviting embrace of your kitchen. With its panoramic view, your kitchen became the heart of your morning adventure. The two of you decided on your place instead of Seungkwan’s seeing as the view from your kitchen window was better. The gentle, tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, infusing the space with a sense of comfort and anticipation for the wonderful meal ahead. Before long, you both find yourselves on the rooftop, savoring the delicious meal you've meticulously put together. The early morning light casts a spellbinding glow over Tokyo, offering a breathtaking view. As you indulge in your breakfast, the easy-flowing conversation is punctuated by laughter.

After finishing his breakfast, Seungkwan reclines in his chair, a contemplative expression adorning his face. It's as if he's carefully considering something significant, and a sense of eager anticipation starts to build within you. At last, he turns to you, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm.

“Hey, I was thinking,” he begins, a hint of shyness creeping into his voice. “Would you like to go to Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden with me tomorrow? It's one of the places on my list that I’m really looking forward to, and I think you’d enjoy it too.”

You feel a flutter in your chest as he asks you to join him, and you have to remind yourself that despite his charming appearance, he is still a stranger. Nevertheless, the thought of sharing more moments with Seungkwan in such a breathtaking location is incredibly tempting. A smile spreads across your face as a wave of contentment washes over you.

“I’d love to,” you reply eagerly. “I've heard it’s amazing, and I'd be thrilled to go with you.”

As Seungkwan flashes his radiant smile, it illuminates his face, causing a delightful flutter in your heart.

“Great! We can pack a picnic and make a day of it,” he suggests. “I'll buy some snacks and drinks after my run tomorrow, and we can enjoy the gardens together.”

As the morning progresses, you immerse yourselves in detailed planning for your upcoming outing. You carefully deliberate on what items to bring along and excitedly map out which areas of the garden we hope to explore. The air is tinged with palpable anticipation, and with every passing moment, you find yourself forming an even stronger bond with Seungkwan. As the day of your outing approaches, you find yourself thinking about Seungkwan more and more. There's something about him that draws you in, making you want to know more about him and share more of yourself in return. The prospect of spending a day together in such a beautiful place feels almost magical.

The following morning, you rise with the sun, your heart brimming with excitement. And when Seungkwan stands at your doorstep, he holds a woven basket overflowing with a delectable variety of snacks and a steaming thermos of coffee. A wide, infectious grin spreads across his face, and you can't help but reciprocate, feeling an exhilarating surge of anticipation.

"Ready to go?" he asks, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

"Absolutely," you reply, following him out the door.

While you make your way to Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden, the air is filled with lighthearted conversation and laughter, adding to the sense of anticipation. Upon arrival, the breathtaking sight of the expansive gardens captivates your attention. The lush greenery, vibrant flowers, and tranquil ponds combine to create a serene atmosphere, transporting us to a world far removed from the hustle and bustle of the city.

Strolling through the meticulously designed gardens, you can't help but lose track of time. With every step, you’re greeted by a breathtaking array of colors and scents that captivate my senses. Seungkwan, who’s done his diligent research on the park, eagerly points out various points of interest he's researched, sharing intriguing stories and fascinating details about the diverse plants and landscapes. His genuine love for the garden is palpable, and you’re fully engrossed by the beauty of my surroundings and the delightful company of Seungkwan.

Once the sun climbs to its highest point in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the surroundings, you and Seungkwan spot a serene area shaded by a magnificent cherry blossom tree. You carefully lay out the soft picnic blanket that Seungkwan had found in his apartment and both settle down on it. The spread of delectable food on the blanket invites you to indulge in a delightful meal, further enhancing the serene atmosphere. Engrossed in each other's company, your conversation effortlessly drifts from light-hearted and cheerful topics to heartfelt and intimate stories. Through this easy exchange, you come to truly appreciate Seungkwan's endearing charm, quick wit, and remarkable kindness, making this shared moment even more special.

Time seems to stand still as you talk and laugh together, the connection between you growing stronger with each passing moment. You feel a sense of contentment that you haven't felt in a long time, and you realize that this day with Seungkwan is something truly special.

As the afternoon turns into evening, you reluctantly pack up your picnic and make your way back to the entrance of the garden. The walk back is filled with a comfortable silence, both of you lost in your own thoughts, savoring the memories of the day.

When you’re just a few blocks away from the apartment, Seungkwan turns to you with a warm smile. 

"I had a great time today," he says softly. "Thank you for coming with me."

"Me too," you reply, feeling a pang of sadness at the thought of the day ending. "Thank you for inviting me."

You don’t want to go to bed just yet, you want to stay with him for just a little longer. A thought strikes you as you pass the small convenience store. You stop Seungkwan by pulling on his sleeve, and making him look over at the store. He seems to follow your train of thought, as he turns to you with a smile.

“Do you want to grab a couple of bottles of beer and head to the rooftop?” he asks, a playful glint in his eyes. "The view of the city lights from up there is amazing, it’d be a shame if we didn’t make use of it."

“You’re reading my mind,” you reply.

You both walk into the store, walking directly over to the aisle with beer. Enticed by the colorful and artistic labels, you and Seungkwan carefully inspect each bottle, trying to decipher their unique flavors and styles. Because of your lack of knowledge about Japanese beer, you make your selections based solely on the eye-catching labels - a choice that evokes a playful chuckle from Seungkwan, who nonetheless assures you that he isn't one to judge. With your chosen bottles in hand, you pay and eagerly make your way back to the apartment, your excitement growing with every light and eager step.

The rooftop is quiet, a perfect contrast to the bustling center of the city that you can spot from your position. You find a cozy spot to sit, the cityscape sprawling out before you in a dazzling array of lights. Seungkwan sits down right next to you. The air is cool and crisp, and you feel a sense of tranquility wash over you. You sit together, sipping your beers, and the conversation begins to flow more deeply. You share stories about your past, your dreams, and the things that matter most to you. Seungkwan opens up about his life, his struggles, and his hopes for the future. You find yourself doing the same, feeling a sense of trust and connection that surprises you. Seungkwan sits quietly as you open up about your past relationship, sharing the details of how it ended and how it was all your fault. He attentively watches you, unwavering in his focus as you pour your heart out. As you finish your beer, he offers you another can, and you express your gratitude. The beer loosens your tongue and you divulge more and more secrets from your past.

“How can it be your fault?” he asks suddenly.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just that…” He pauses, adjusting himself on his seat on the small table. “Sure, you didn’t put in the effort you should have at the end - if what you said was true, of course - but couldn’t he do the same? Why is it all because of you?”

His words leave you speechless, and you find yourself sitting in stunned silence for a while. You had always thought that it was all your fault - maybe because you had never told anyone the details before, let alone said them out loud. 

“I don’t mean to overstep, sorry,” Seungkwan adds.

“You’re not.” You straighten out your back and look at him with a newfound confidence. “You might be right… are you sure you’re not a therapist?”

Seungkwan's laughter fills the room, a melodic sound reminiscent of silver bells. He playfully shakes his head and lifts his beer to his lips to take another sip. The alcohol drips from the corner of his lips, and you find yourself entranced by his lips. You move a little closer, using the chilly wind as an excuse. Before you know it, the distance between you has disappeared. Seungkwan’s face is close to yours, his breath mingling with yours in the cool night air. There's a moment of hesitation, a silent question hanging between you. Then, without thinking, you both lean in.

The kiss starts gentle and uncertain meeting of lips, sparking a sensation that sends a shiver down the spine. As the initial surprise fades, the kiss deepens, drawing its passion from the swirling emotions and the shared bond between two people. In the heart of the moment, it becomes all-consuming, surrounding you in a luminous wave of happiness and excitement.

When you finally pull back, you're both a little breathless, your faces inches apart. Seungkwan's eyes are dark and intense, filled with an emotion that mirrors your own. You smile at him, feeling a mixture of giddiness and contentment.

"I've been wanting to do that all day," he admits softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm glad you did," you reply, your heart pounding in your chest. 

Without a second though, you lean in for another kiss - savoring the moment. The rest of the evening becomes a whirlwind of joyous laughter and tender, stolen kisses. Between the kisses, you find yourselves invigorated by a drunken conversation. Somewhere along the line, he asks you to get breakfast with him the very next day at a local café nearby. You happily agree before continuing to indulge yourself with his lips that taste of bitter grapefruit. With each passing moment, you can feel the connection between you growing stronger, the bond deepening. Below, the city lights shimmer like stars, bearing witness to the beginning of a beautiful journey.

As the night comes to an end, you both reluctantly decide it's time to call it a day. You walk back to your apartments together, the silence between you comfortable and filled with unspoken promises. When you reach your door, Seungkwan pulls you into one last kiss, a sweet and lingering goodbye that leaves you wanting more.

"Goodnight," he whispers, his forehead resting against yours.

"Goodnight," you reply, your voice soft and filled with emotion.

You watch him disappear down the stairs, a smile playing on your lips. As you enter your own apartment, you feel a sense of anticipation for what the future holds. This day has been perfect, and you can't wait to see where this newfound connection with Seungkwan will lead.

The next day you wake up with a slight headache, and burning cheeks at the memories from the night before. Have you already managed to mess up this new relationship? Nevertheless, you hadn’t forgotten Seungkwan’s promise of breakfast - and although you doubted yourself through every step, you managed to get ready. As you get ready, you can't help but replay the events of the garden and the rooftop in your mind. The thought of seeing him again fills you with anticipation.

You and Seungkwan stroll to the café, the air is charged with unspoken words. Apart from a brief exchange of greetings, the silence hangs heavy between you, even as the sight of him fills you with a comforting warmth. Upon entering the cozy café, the barista happily tells you that you both are the first patrons of the day. You order quickly, thanking the barista before going to find a table. Choosing a table by the window, Seungkwan settles in, and you take a seat across from him. The atmosphere is tense, with neither of you saying much, lost in your thoughts while reliving the memory of that unforgettable, electric kiss.

As the warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee envelops the air, the hushed stillness of the room becomes palpable. The coffee arrives at your table, along with the food you had ordered. As you sip your coffee, the silence begins to feel impossibly heavier. You steal a glance at Seungkwan, noticing the way he seems to be carefully collecting his thoughts. After a moment of quiet contemplation, he draws in a slow, steadying breath, and as his gaze meets mine, there's an unmistakable resolve in his eyes.

"I was thinking..." he starts, his voice a bit hesitant. "Would you like to go out on a date with me? Tonight, maybe?"

His unexpected words jolt you, causing you to almost choke on the pastry you're eating. You swiftly regain your composure, feeling a warm flush of embarrassment spread across your cheeks. Seungkwan stands up hesitantly, unsure of how to help you - but you quickly motion for him to sit back down, silently telling him that you’re okay. Your face breaks out into a smile as you eagerly nod, feeling a surge of excitement welling up within you.

"I'd love to," you reply, your voice soft but filled with enthusiasm.

The rest of the breakfast passes in a blur of light conversation and shared smiles. The tension that had been present at the beginning gradually melts away, replaced by a growing sense of anticipation for the day ahead.

After going home and getting changed, you meet Seungkwan again, and he walks with you to the theme park. The colorful lights and the sound of laughter fill the air, creating an atmosphere of excitement and joy. Seungkwan takes your hand and leads you inside. The theme park is alive with energy, and the two of you quickly get swept up in the fun. You ride the roller coasters, feeling the rush of adrenaline as you laugh and scream together - you out of excitement, but Seungkwan sometimes out of pure fear. Later on, Seungkwan wins you a stuffed animal at one of the game booths, and you can't help but feel a warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest as you hug it close.

Throughout the evening, you find yourself feeling like a kid again, running around and enjoying the rides with Seungkwan by your side. His laughter is infectious, and you can't help but be drawn to this new playful side of him. There's a carefree joy in the air, and you feel completely at ease with him. For someone who said he has issues with being spontaneous, Seungkwan’s surprisingly good at it.

As the golden sun begins its descent and the evening sky is painted with vibrant hues, Seungkwan suggests one last exhilarating escapade - a romantic ride on the Ferris wheel. You eagerly make your way to the structure. Soon, you find yourself nestled in a gondola, slowly going up above the amusement park. As you ascend, the breathtaking view unfolds before us, revealing a mesmerizing display of city lights twinkling like a sea of stars in every direction. The radiant sun bathes everything in its warm, golden glow as it gradually dips below the horizon, casting a spellbinding and unforgettable scene. 

You and Seungkwan sit in comfortable silence next to each other, watching the sunset paint the sky in hues of orange and pink. The Ferris wheel comes to a gentle stop at the top, and you turn to find Seungkwan already looking at you. There's a softness in his eyes, an unspoken connection that makes your heart race. He leans in slowly, giving you time to close the distance. The kiss is soft and tender, a perfect reflection of the emotions swirling between you. It feels just as magical as the first. The warmth of his lips, the gentle pressure—it all feels right, like the beginning of something beautiful.

As the Ferris wheel starts moving again, you pull back slightly, your faces still close. Seungkwan smiles at you, his eyes shining with happiness.

"Thank you for today," he whispers. “I wouldn’t have gone on most of those rides if you weren’t with me.”

"And you don’t regret that?" you reply with a snicker.

“For some reason, I don’t.” He glances down at your lips, and then back to your eyes while a smile plays on his lips.

The ride ends, and you step off the Ferris wheel hand in hand. The theme park begins to quiet down as the night deepens, and you make your way back to the entrance. The memory of the sunset and the kiss lingers, a perfect end to a perfect day. A few months ago, you couldn’t have pictured yourself in this kind of setting.

When you get back to your apartment building and say goodnight, you’re filled with a sense of anticipation for the future. The bond between you and Seungkwan has grown stronger, and you know that this is just the beginning of something wonderful.

From that day on, the two of you spend every other day together, exploring Tokyo and growing closer. The city becomes your playground, a backdrop to the unfolding story of your blossoming relationship. Each day brings new adventures and deeper connections, as you discover the many facets of Tokyo and each other.

You visit bustling markets, where the vibrant colors and tantalizing smells overwhelm your senses. Seungkwan makes you laugh with his attempts to haggle, his playful banter drawing you closer. You wander through serene temples and shrines, finding moments of peace and reflection amidst the city's chaos. Seungkwan's hand in yours feels like an anchor, grounding you in the present and the promise of what’s to come.

The two of you wander through the vibrant streets of Harajuku and Shibuya, finding yourselves immersed in the eclectic fashion, unique shops, and bustling atmosphere. Your afternoons are filled with the delightful aromas of freshly brewed coffee and the delectable taste of sweet pastries as you share conversations in charming cafes. Seungkwan's laughter and genuine warmth create a sense of ease and joy, weaving seamlessly into the fabric of your daily experiences.

You spend lazy Sundays in lush parks, where you lay on blankets under cherry blossom trees, sharing secrets and dreams. The beauty of the city mirrors the beauty of your connection, each moment spent together is a testament to the bond growing between you. You take boat rides on the Sumida River, the gentle rocking of the boat lulling you into a serene state as Seungkwan points out landmarks and makes up stories about the people you pass.

Evenings are filled with vibrant nightlife, from izakayas where you taste various Japanese dishes to karaoke bars where Seungkwan's voice fills the room, his enthusiasm infectious. You find yourself singing along, your laughter mingling with the music, creating memories that will linger long after the songs have ended.

As the days melt into weeks, a bittersweet truth starts to sink in. Your time in Tokyo is gradually coming to an end, and the idea of parting with Seungkwan feels like a heavy burden on your heart. The city, which has served as the canvas for your love story, now seems like a relentless countdown, each passing day pulling you nearer to your impending departure.

Eventually, the day arrives. You have one last day together before you have to leave, and you decide to make the most of it. You revisit your favorite spots, each location now tinged with nostalgia and the knowledge that this is your final adventure together in Tokyo. The laughter and joy are still there, but there's an underlying sadness that neither of you can ignore.

That evening, you find yourselves on the rooftop again, the city lights twinkling below like a sea of stars. The two of you sit in silence for a while, soaking in the moment. Seungkwan reaches for your hand, his grip firm and reassuring.

"I can't believe you're leaving tomorrow," he says softly, his voice tinged with sadness.

"I know," you reply, your heart aching. "I wish I could stay longer."

Seungkwan pulls you into a hug, his embrace warm and comforting. "Let's make a promise," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. "No matter what happens, let's remember this time together."

“Promise.”

When the moment to part ways approaches and you bid each other goodnight, a bittersweet feeling fills the air. You savor one last, tender kiss that seems to linger long after it's over, leaving an indelible mark on your heart. The following day, as you prepare to leave, a sense of heaviness settles in your chest, a poignant reminder of the emotions stirred up by that final, lingering kiss. 

It was only at Tokyo Central station, watching Seungkwan wave goodbye through the window to your seat on the train, that a sinking feeling washed over you as you realized that you had never thought to ask for his contact information. In the whirlwind of our time together, you had never exchanged numbers, always assuming that you’d simply meet up again the next day. The thought of leaving without a way to reach him fills you with a sense of regret, but there's no time to rectify it. You leave Tokyo with a heavy heart, the memory of Seungkwan's kiss, and the moments you shared replaying in your mind. The city fades into the distance as you return to your old life, but the connection you felt with Seungkwan lingers, a bittersweet reminder of a love that bloomed amidst the bustling streets of Tokyo.

Back home, you find yourself missing him more than you anticipated. The sights, sounds, and smells of Tokyo haunt your thoughts, each memory tied to the boy who made your time there unforgettable. You crash at your friend's place, trying to adjust to the familiar surroundings that now feel foreign without Seungkwan.

You throw yourself into finding a new apartment, hoping that the busyness will distract you from the ache in your heart. When you finally move your things from storage and settle into your new place, you feel a sense of accomplishment but also a lingering sadness. The memory of Seungkwan's smile, his laughter, and his touch stays with you, a constant reminder of the days spent exploring Tokyo and falling in love. 

The days blend together in a haze of unpacking and organizing, but there’s a sense of purpose driving you forward. The bustling energy of Tokyo still lingers in your mind, a vivid contrast to the quiet moments of solitude as you prepare for this new chapter in your life. When you start moving your things from storage, you immediately know that you’ve found a good place to call home. The apartment, with its cozy corners and ample sunlight, feels like a fresh start. Each box unpacked and each piece of furniture arranged is a step towards creating a space that is uniquely yours. Slowly, you let your heart heal from Seungkwan - and you can only hope that he’s doing the same.

A few weeks after settling in, you’ve developed a routine that brings a sense of normalcy back to your days. Yet, there's a lingering feeling of incompleteness, a part of you still caught up in the whirlwind of memories from Tokyo and the adventures you had there. One afternoon, you decide to take a break from your routine and explore the neighborhood a little more. You look at the local shops and cafés, watch the people who live there continuing their lives, and you think of Seungkwan. He should be back in Seoul by now if you remember correctly. It would be impossible to find him, but a small sense of hope lingers in your chest that you’d manage to bump into him.

You walk back to your apartment and get into the elevator with tired steps. As you walk into the elevator, lost in thought, you hear someone shout for you to keep the doors open. Startled, you quickly press the button to hold the elevator. The doors slide open again, and in rushes Seungkwan, looking slightly out of breath but beaming with that familiar, heartwarming smile. He doesn’t see you at first, his focus being purely on the bag in his hand. Your jaw all but drops to the floor as you watch him fix his messy hair.

"Thank you!" he says, slightly breathless. "I didn't want my ice cream to melt."

He motions to the bag and finally looks up at you. His eyes go as wide as yours, if not bigger, and his mouth hangs open. He had immediately recognized you. You don’t know what to do with yourself. Would it be wrong to hug him? Kiss him? Although that’s all you wanted to do, you couldn’t bring yourself to move. However, when the elevator started moving so did your ability to function.

"Seungkwan… I can't believe it's you."

With the hand that’s not holding the bag, Seungkwan brings you into an embrace. His chin lands on your shoulder, and you can’t do anything but hug him back. You come back to your senses once Seungkwan pulls away. The elevator ride, which feels like the longest and shortest ride at the same time, is filled with small talk. You both exchange quick updates on your lives since Tokyo, and the conversation is as light and easy as it had been before. As the elevator reaches your floor, you realize with a mix of surprise and delight that Seungkwan is getting off on the same floor as you.

The tension releases as the two of you laugh at the situation. "Looks like we're neighbors," Seungkwan says, shaking his head in disbelief. "What are the odds?"

As you both step out of the elevator, he turns to you with a playful smile and lifts up the bag demonstratively. "How about we celebrate this coincidence with some ice cream? My place?"

You agree, telling him that you’re just going to go change out of your clothes. "Give me a few minutes," you say, your heart pounding with excitement.

Rushing into your apartment, you quickly freshen up and change into something more comfortable. As you stand in front of your mirror, you take a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach. A few minutes later, you're knocking at Seungkwan’s door, a mixture of nerves and anticipation coursing through you.

He opens the door, welcoming you in with a warm smile. His apartment feels cozy and inviting, a perfect reflection of his personality. You sit down together, catching up over ice cream. The conversation flows naturally, filled with laughter and shared memories. Seungkwan tells you that he’s missed you and regretted not getting your number before. His voice is earnest, and you can see the sincerity in his eyes.

"I've thought about you a lot," he admits, his gaze meeting yours. "I was worried I might never see you again."

You feel a rush of emotions, your heart swelling at his words. "I've missed you too, Seungkwan. More than I can say."

The moment feels charged with emotion, and before you know it, you're leaning in, closing the distance between you. The kiss is sweet and lingering, filled with all the unspoken feelings and missed opportunities. It’s as if no time has passed since your last kiss in Tokyo, and the connection between you is just as strong, if not stronger.

When you finally pull back, you’re both smiling, a mixture of relief and happiness in your expressions. Seungkwan takes your hand, squeezing it gently. "How about we do this properly?" he asks, his voice soft but hopeful. "Will you go on a date with me?"

Your smile widens, and you nod eagerly. "Yes, I'd love to."

Seungkwan’s face lights up with joy. "Great! How about tomorrow evening? There's a new restaurant I've been wanting to try."

"Sounds perfect," you reply, your heart soaring. “Can I finally give you my number now?”

Seungkwan laughs, and your heart soars. After exchanging contact information, you decide to leave. As you leave Seungkwan’s apartment that evening, you feel a sense of contentment and excitement for the future. The chance encounter has rekindled the spark between you, and you can’t wait to see where this new chapter with Seungkwan will lead. The memory of your time in Tokyo remains a cherished part of your story, but now, you look forward to creating new memories together in this place you both call home.

[steveshairychest]

Time travel au where Steve is the last one to go through the gate in Eddie's trailer, except when he comes out, he's not in his Hawkins anymore. Instead of being greeted by the sight of his friends safe and sound and Wayne's mug collection, he's standing in some random guys trailer.

He gets shoved out the front door and into the strange new world that is undoubtedly Hawkins, but not the Hawkins he remembers.

Everything feels wrong. The people look strange in their weird clothes and a lady across the park screams into a flat rectangle in her hand. The trailers look the same but there's something about them that's definitely wrong. Some guy blows smoke in his face while walking past and instead of the gross smell of cigarette he was expecting, it smells sweet, almost like strawberries. He's so fucking confused. He knows he's causing a scene by walking around gaping at everything, but what else is he supposed to do? Steal a car and drive off? He's never seen cars like this in his entire life!! Do they even work the same way?!

Maybe he has a concussion. Maybe this is his version of a vecna hallucination.

And then things only get more confusing when a little girl runs over to him and beams up at Steve like they've been best friends forever. "Hi, Mr Harrington! Why are you here?" She can't be older than 9.

Why does this little girl know him? He stares at her and his confusion must show because she tilts her head and frowns. "Are you okay, Mr Harrington?"

She keeps calling him Mr Harrington, is he a teacher here? Oh god, does that mean there's another version of himself running around here?! Wherever here is.

"I'm... fine. I'm just a little lost." He walks away before he scares the poor girl with his rising hysterics. Steve knows these roads like the back of his hand, he's driven them his entire life, but he takes a million wrong turns because there's suddenly so many new streets he's never even heard of. Where there should be a huge clearing, there is now a building so high Steve swears it touches the sky and the tree him and Robin used to have picnics under is now gone and replaced with a parking lot filled with more weird cars.

"What the fuck? What the fuck?!" Steve finally makes it to where his house should be and there's... nothing. It's just a block of land for sale. It tips him over the edge. He can't remember the last time he cried but right now he is balling and hiccuping as he stumbled down the street he grew up on. But it's wrong. It's all so wrong. People drive past and give him weird looks, a lady even stops jogging and takes out the tiny earplugs that play music so loud Steve can hear it, and asks if he's OK. "No, I'm not. This isn't real. This isn't real!"

It has to be vecna. He's got him. That's why he's stuck in this nightmare. "You have to play music! Give me your plug things! Make them play anything! Get me out of here." The woman refuses and does nothing but stand there in shock as Steve sinks down to the sidewalk and starts singing Everybody Wants to Rule The World as loud as he can.

"I'm calling 911. You need help." Steve doesn't hear her. He's singing so loud people are starting to come out of their houses to see what's going on but that doesn't matter to him. This isn't real. Vecna has him and he needs to get out.

When the ambulance pulls up, Steve's run out of tears. He's cried himself dry and he's resigned to the fact that any minute now, Vecna is going to snap his arms and legs. "I'm ready." He says quietly to no one but himself. He'd rather it be him than any of his friends. He knows they are probably watching him and trying to bring him back but it's too late. He can't hear the music they're playing.

"Steve?" A familiar voice drags him out of his own head, but it can't be real. He heard that voice take its final breath just mere minutes ago, he can still feel his drying blood under his fingernails. Steve lifts his head and there he is, it's Eddie, no doubt about it. His long hair is tied up in a bun and his eyes are sparkling with worry as he crouches down in front of Steve. It's then that Steve realises Eddie is in full paramedic gear and he's pulling all sorts of things out of a bag to check on Steve.

"Eddie, you're alive." He whispers in disbelief as Eddie checks him for any head injuries. "Where are we? How do we leave?"

Eddie pulls back and there's panic behind his eyes as he slowly helps Steve to his feet and gestures to his partner to grab the stretcher. "Steve, love, I need you to tell me what happened. Why aren't you at work?"

At work? What is Eddie going on about? And did he just call Steve love?!!

"Eddie, this isn't real. I need to leave. I can't stay here with you." He says it slowly so that Eddie understands. He may be some figment of Steve's weird dream imagination and he doesn't want to freak the poor guy out by telling him he's actually dead.

Eddie breathes in and out, his hands a little shaky as he helps Steve onto the ambulance stretcher. His partner helps get Steve set up in the back of the ambulance before they're driving off. Eddie reaches out and holds Steve's hand gently, the gesture surprising but not unwelcome. "Steve, baby, this is very much real life. You're in Hawkins. It's March 21st, 2023. Your name is Steve Harrington, remember?"

"Wait, what?!" Steve tries to sit up but Eddie gently pushes him back down. They hit a bump in the road and Eddie swears softly under his breath about his partner's driving. "It's not 1986?!" He's panicking. He can feel his heart rate spike and his breathing starts to quicken. Eddie tells him to stay calm and just breathe in and out but Steve can't hear him.

Maybe this really isn't Vecna. He'd be dead by now if Vecna had him and Eddie's touch feels too real to be a dream.

Before he knows it, his vision is going spotty and then he's out; the panic and absolute absurdity of it all finally getting to him.

"You'll be okay, Stevie."

Except this isn't the Steve Eddie knows and loves. His Steve, his darling husband, is currently having a dilemma of his own back in 1986.

[innuendostudios]

new video about Edgar Wright's Cornetto Trilogy, and how everyone* keeps getting them wrong! this video is sponsored by Nebula, a place where you can watch the original version of this video before I had to tweak it for YouTube's copyright bots. (by clicking that link, you can get an annual subscription for 40% off.) or you can just back me on Patreon, which is also cool and good.

transcript below the cut.

I adore Edgar Wright’s Cornetto Trilogy. I flirted with making a video about it ages ago, had a draft of a script, but ultimately decided it wasn’t about anything except “here’s a thing I like, and here are its (I thought) very obvious themes.” So I shelved it. But, in the years since, I have seen multiple video essayists on this here website claim that these movies are about growing up and taking responsibility. (I say “multiple.” It’s not a lot. But it’s more than one! And that’s enough.)

These people are 100% wrong.

Lemme lay it out: the Cornetto Trilogy is not about growing up. It is not about taking responsibility. It is the exact opposite, and that’s not subtext. It is three movies about stunted manchildren thrust into extraordinary circumstances, and each, in the end, is saved - is redeemed - by abandoning his character arc and failing to grow or change. It is a three-part love letter to immaturity.

And I guess I have to set the record straight.

Sometimes making a video about a thing you love is an act of appreciation. And sometimes it’s out of spite.

The Cornetto Trilogy is three movies: Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, and The World’s End. All three are written by Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright; Pegg stars, and Wright directs; all three center on a relationship between Pegg and real-life best friend Nick Frost, which makes each film a reunion of the core team behind Spaced (excepting, but for a small role in Shaun of the Dead, Jessica Hynes). The three films span three genres: zombie apocalypse, buddy cop, alien invasion; each features a Cornetto ice cream cone: strawberry to represent blood, original blue to represent the police, and mint to represent little green men; this is a joking nod to Krzysztof Kieślowski’s Trois Couleur films, Bleu, Blanc, and Rouge, which were based on the colors and themes of the French flag (I don’t care what you say, Emily: #TeamRouge); that nod is funny because Trois Couleur is high-art drama and these are comedies. All three are parodies of, tributes to, and actually surprisingly good executions of their respective genres. And the hook, the gag at the center of all these movies, is that Simon Pegg plays a character wholly unsuited to be starring in this kind of film.

Shaun, the burnout, is the wrong person to survive the zombie apocalypse; by-the-book British bobby Nicholas is the wrong person to lead an American-style bombastic actioner; and alcoholic asshole Gary is the last person to save the world from aliens.

And I think that’s where people get stuck. Because “schlub finds himself protagonist of a genre film” is the elevator pitch for like a dozen Adam Sandler movies. The genre trappings may be as mundane as parenthood or mandated anger management classes, or as high-concept as action movie, whodunnit, or time travel It’s a Wonderful Life if Clarence were Christopher Walken as the angel of death (that… that makes it sound good, it’s not, don’t see Click; leave Frank Capra alone, Adam). But all these movies have the same basic shape: an extraordinary situation forces a guy to confront his shortcomings, which always stem from having never grown up. And you probably haven’t seen all of these movies, but if you’ve seen any, I bet you have assumptions about how the rest end: even though “Adam Sandler acts like a child” is generally the selling point of an Adam Sandler movie, they all end with some lip service toward becoming an adult: hey man, grow up a bit; appreciate your family a little more; square your shoulders; clean your room. This is so standard, it was parodied mercilessly in Funny People.

And this was a formative microgenre for my generation! Whole universe turns itself upside down to teach some shitty dude to, like, do the dishes and pay his wife a compliment now and then - Liar Liar, Bruce and Evan Almighty (all directed by the same guy, by the way). So I don’t blame people of a certain age for seeing the first act of Shaun of the Dead and thinking “I know where this is going.” And when, at the last minute, it swerves and goes someplace else, you could read that as a gag, a final subversion of expectation, still the same basic shape. But no! No! Once is a gag - thrice??? Thrice is a thematic statement!

So lemme make my case. I’ma take you through these movies one by one - we’ll talk about the manchildren and the expectations set by the genre, and then we’ll talk about that last-minute swerve and what it means. And then you’ll tell me I’m right and apologize!

Shaun of the Dead:

Shaun is a man in his twenties. What kind of manchild is he? He’s the slacker.

What is his problem? He needs to sort his life out. Shaun doesn’t know how to take action. He hasn’t advanced since college - he’s been working the kind of job a teen takes over the summer for like a decade, lives with the same best friend, has the same petty fights with his stepdad, goes to the same pub every week with the same group of people. He can’t make a reservation, he can’t manage a calendar, he’s a washup. This makes his girlfriend, Liz, feel stifled, trapped; he is a weight around her ankle, taking her on the same date week after week, keeping her from living her own dreams, having her own adventures. She gives him one last chance to prove he can sort his life out, and he blows it, and she dumps him.

And then: a zombie movie happens.

The genre forces him to confront his shortcomings: to survive, and save his loved ones, he’ll have to take action, make plans, be decisive. This is a common fantasy: when you feel ground down by the mundanity of life, you might imagine, oh, if only a crisis would happen, like a zombie virus outbreak, where my normal-life problems like “am I gonna make rent,” “is my girl gonna take me back,” “is my roommate gonna kick out my stoner buddy who’s crashing on the couch” become meaningless, and it’s immediately clear what’s really important, what matters. Then I’d know exactly what to do. It’s why disaster movies work as escapism: a necromantic plague - or at least the fantasy of one - is sometime preferable to normal life.

Hot Fuzz:

Nicholas is a man in his thirties. What kind of manchild is he? He’s the hall monitor.

What is his problem? He can’t switch off. He is a hypercompetant police officer with a rulebook where his brain should be. He’s so good at being a cop that he’s spotting and unraveling crimes even on his day off. He can’t maintain a relationship, has no friends, all his coworkers hate him because he keeps finishing their work for them, and his stats show up the rest of the force so badly that they scuttle him out to the country.

Now you might be thinking, “Mmm. A fastidious police officer who can’t have fun? How is that a manchild? Sounds pretty grown-up to me. You’re reaching, bud.” Ohhhh ho ho, smartass, do you remember this scene? [bar scene] Yeah! Nicholas Angel has a five-year-old’s notion of law and order. He’s still playing cops and robbers.

And that’s a problem, because then: an action movie happens.

It doesn’t happen all at once: he goes out to the country and finds they do things a bit differently there. They are (ostensibly) less concerned with rules than what than the rules are for: if the purpose of drinking laws is to keep the streets safe and orderly, and letting some people off with a warning or allowing kids drink so long as they do it inside achieves that end, the rule can be bent. That’s a judgment grown-ups can make; I mean, they’re the ones who wrote the rules in the first place. So be lenient with shoplifters, don’t hassle people for speeding; this isn’t the Big City, you can use your better judgment. But Nicholas never got past doing whatever Mom & Dad said; obedience, and trusting whoever’s up the chain, is his entire moral framework. He can’t accept that bending the law could be more righteous than following it.

But also maybe there’s a criminal conspiracy murdering people and writing it off as accidents and the police chief might be in on it. Or maybe Nicholas is so desperate for a big case with no moral ambiguity that he’s seeing things where they aren’t. 

The genre forces him to confront his shortcomings: either there’s nothing going on and he needs to chill out about procedure, or the department is corrupt and he’ll have to go rogue like it’s Point Break - and this is how he experiences Point Break. [“paperwork”]

No matter what, he’ll have to bend the rules, which he constitutionally cannot do.

The World’s End:

Gary is a man in his forties. What kind of manchild is he? He’s the delinquent.

What’s his problem? Pfffft. What isn’t his problem? Gary is a manipulative, narcissistic, lying, self-destructive, ignorant, violent, thieving, shit-talking, unapologetic asshole who peaked in high school when being all those things was still kind of badass. The greatest night of his life was the drunken pub crawl after graduation he and his friends didn’t even finish, and he’s been tumbling downhill ever since. He’s spent his life ruining everyone who knows him until there’s no one left to ruin but Gary King. So now it’s time to bully the old gang into going back home with him to relive that night by finishing the pub crawl, because, in his own words, it’s all he’s got. And he and his friends have to confront how home has changed since they left - the bars have gentrified, not everyone recognizes them; the defining, epic deeds of Gary’s youth have been forgotten. You can’t actually go back because that place doesn’t exist anymore.

And then: a sci-fi movie happens.

Turns out the town’s been taken over by aliens, and all the people who couldn’t conform to their new order have been replaced with robots! That’s why no one recognizes them! And that’s why the pubs all look the same: the aliens are homogenizing everything! And it’s clear, if they can’t get Gary and his friends to play ball, they’ll roboticize them as well! The obvious move is to get the hell out of town, but Gary keeps inventing excuses to stay and finish the pub crawl, and they sound pretty sensible because the group’s already five pints in. The genre forces him to confront his shortcomings: sooner or later he’s gonna have to give up on recapturing his youth and do what’s best for him and his friends now, even if it means running back to the city where all his problems live.

So there we have it: the characters cross the threshold into an unfamiliar world where an external conflict cannot be addressed without resolving the tension within. The slacker will have to get his shit sorted, the hall monitor will have to break the rules, and the delinquent will have to do what’s good for him. And, to an extent, all three know this! The movies Wright and Pegg pay homage to exist in these stories - Shaun knows what a zombie is, Danny keeps Nicholas up watching Point Break and Bad Boys II, and Gary and friends know bodysnatcher movies so well they have philosophical debates with the robots about whether “robot” is the PC term.

So, yeah, if you turned the movies off there, I could forgive you for thinking that’s where they’re headed. But you goofballs watched them to the end and then made content about them, what is wrong with you???

What actually happens in the second halves of these movies?

Shaun twigs that he’s in a zombie movie and, at first, tries to play the part - his survival plans are miniature hero’s journeys with him as protagonist, wherein he’ll save the day by neatly confronting all his flaws. He’ll resolve parental conflict by saving his mom from his zombified stepdad, resolve romantic conflict by showing his girl he can come through when it counts, and resolve internal conflict by being a man who saves the day. And all his plans suck! It’s just the same plan he always comes up with! Dragging around the same useless liability of a bestie, collecting the same group of people, and holing up in the same pub! He doesn’t save his mom: his stepdad apologizes, resolving their conflict for him, and then survives in zombie form but Shaun’s mom gets killed; most of the friend group gets killed because the crisis does not actually suspend but in fact amplifies their personal grievances; and he doesn’t save the day, just manages not to die long enough for the military to show up.

But… well, Liz wanted adventure and now she’s had enough for a lifetime, so… she’s down to just be boring with him for a while - sit on the couch, watch TV, hit the pub. Beats running for your life. Tensions with the roommate are gone cuz roommate died, but rent is covered cuz Liz moved in. Zombies don’t get eradicated, just folded into normal life, so Shaun can mindlessly play video games with his bestie forever, and it’s not a problem that bestie doesn’t have an income cuz he doesn’t need food or shelter.

The zombie apocalypse doesn’t make Shaun sort his life out, it changes the world til he doesn’t have to.

When Nicholas discovers that, yes, there is definitely a murderous criminal conspiracy inside the police department, he recognizes the only way to bring about justice is to become what Danny has always wanted and go Dirty Harry on the town. It’s either that or just swallow the crimes. But he does neither. He and Danny go on an epic shooting spree, recreating famous movie scenes, taking out the entire criminal organization against all odds, and spouting badass one-liners… but everyone who helps them is a cop, they don’t actually kill anyone, all perps are formally arrested, and they fill out all the paperwork. I think he even properly signs out the weapons. He never switches off, never breaks a rule, does absolutely everything by the book, only… louder. And this violent showdown saves him from the chill town with lax rules he thought he’d moved to. Now he, with his five-year-old notion of right and wrong, is in charge of the police department.

The buddy cop actioner doesn’t make Nicholas bend the rules, it changes the world til he doesn’t have to.

Gary knows exactly how a movie of this sort is supposed to go and spends the whole movie running from it. Friends and secondary characters keep sharing these poignant moments with him, because they know this story, too: yeah, he’s gonna reject help at first, but sooner or later he’ll hit rock bottom and then someone will get through to him. And, as the night goes on, and the characters get drunker and drunker, and Gary passes up more and more opportunities to abandon the pub crawl and go home, these moments take a tone of desperation. They start to sound more like interventions; like, Gary, we all know you’re going to come to your senses but could you hurry up with it??? How many of your friends need to literally die for you to shape up? Are you gonna get them all killed?

And the answer is: Gary will never shape up! To Gary the Human Dril Tweet, his friends trying to save him, psychiatrists trying to treat him, and aliens trying to assimilate him are all the same thing. He doggedly makes it to the end of the pub crawl and confronts the alien overlord who tells him all the technological advancements of the past few decades - all the efficiency and homogenization that’ve changed the face of his home town - are their doing. The Information Age is an intervention on behalf of Earth, a pan-galactic effort to save humanity from itself. And the reason they’ve been replacing people with robots is some people are too fucked up to go along with it.

And here’s Gary, King of the Fuckups, brashly declaring that fucking up is what makes us human. There is no freedom without the freedom to ruin your life. We are endowed by our creator with the right to be drunken, ornery pieces of shit.

He tells the aliens to piss off and he’s so fucking annoying that they do, and they take the Information Age with them.

Now… I know… ugh… I know a lot of people love this movie, say it’s the best of the three. Some friends who’ve struggled with mental health or just being an adult under late capitalism really identify with Gary, and the valorization of being a mess. I see you, you’re not wrong, I get it, I really do. But can we just… not “but” but “also” can we… can we also admit that this ending is… this is Space Brexit.

Like, literally it’s an alien invasion but symbolically this is Gary rejecting the adult world of rules and authority and doing what’s best for the community and that’s how Brexiters view the EU. And people keep telling him “Gary, this is in your best interest” and Gary says, I don’t want my best interest! I am registered in the anti-Gary’s Face Party and I will cast my vote by cutting my nose! I choose to do what’s bad for me.

And, like a true Brexiter, he chooses for everybody.

Now tell me that’s a movie about growing up. Gary collapses human civilization in its entirety rather than change, and in the world that follows, he thrives… by being an immature, irresponsible bag of garbage.

To Wright and Pegg, growing up is death, and these are movies about being alive. These characters don’t cross the threshold back into the ordinary world with the ultimate boon of character growth; all three stay in the extraordinary world. The zombies remain, the robots remain, Nicholas is offered his London job back and chooses to stay in the country. These are stories about normal life spontaneously turning into a genre film, and they are made with deep love for those genres; why would they end with leaving those genres behind? Because it’s what Adam Sandler would do?

So there you have it. I rest my case.

“Okay Ian. Why does this matter?”

…what was that?

“You’ve made your point: these movies aren’t about growing up or taking responsibility. So what?”

Uhhhh.

“Bring it home for us.”

…

“Why do you care so much?

[breath]

I wrote the first draft of this script when I was around Shaun and Nicholas’ age, and “so what?” is why I shelved it. Now I’m Gary’s age, this video’s been in the back of my brain the whole time, but I got this far and “so what” is where I got stuck, again. This is why the CO-VIDs came out quicker, cuz I let myself end with “so that’s interesting!” and got on with my life. But there’s clearly something sticky here, more than “someone is wrong on the internet.” (Also, to the YouTubers I’m vaguebooking, who said these were movies about growing up - I’m way more annoyed at the folks I’ve argued with on Twitter about this, you just made a better rhetorical device; you do not owe me an apology!) (Also, to the commentariat: I am not extrapolating this from like two data points, this is chronic and recurring and has been bothering me for years.)

There are a few directions I could take this to give it some “cultural weight.” I could put on my social justice hat and talk about how the “crisis of adulthood” doesn’t play as broad comedy unless you look like Adam Sandler or Simon Pegg, or put on my class analysis hat and talk about how signifiers of adulthood are, traditionally, ways of spending and accruing capital which are, today, often inaccessible to people under 40.

And that’s all legit, but here’s the real deal: I’m just mad at Gary. The world changed around Shaun such that he could stay a child. And Nicholas ended up somewhere he could stay a child. If you missed that, you’re wrong, but whatever. But to say that Gary grew up grinds me, because Gary chose this. The whole movie is people telling him to grow up, and he says no! He says it out loud! He says it to the literal end of the world. To walk out of the theater and say “that’s a movie about growing up” is more than a mistake, it’s a refusal. It’s trying to “fix” the movie by fitting it into a more familiar shape, so it doesn’t say what it says, so Gary isn’t who he is, who he chooses to be.

I’m being cheeky when I say this because he’s a fictional character, but saying Gary grew up is enabling.

Gary says there’s no freedom without the freedom to ruin your life, which is the problem with alcoholics and libertarians: it’s not just your life, Gary! You live in a community, a culture, and an ecosystem! Your actions - everybody’s actions - impact other people! That’s just the way the world is! You can’t shit yourself at the bar without other people having to smell it. We’re all fuckin’ connected, man! You don’t want anyone’s will imposed on you; you spend the whole movie imposing your will on everyone else! You say humans don’t wanna be told what to do, and then you decide humanity’s future by yourself with no input or consent from anyone!

People point to Gary ordering water in the last scene instead of beer as evidence that he got sober, like that’s proof that he did grow up in the end, which are you fucking joking??? Getting sober is a shorthand for maturity the way buying a house is, it doesn’t signify anything in and of itself! Gary drank to escape the adult world of rules and responsibilities! So, yeah, under normal circumstances getting sober would mean he’s made peace with that world and is ready to integrate. But that’s not what happened! The thing he was escaping doesn’t exist anymore! He literally destroyed it!! People died! Probably millions! Now he lives a happy life LARPing as Omega Doom - no I don’t expect you to catch that reference! He doesn’t need to drink! He is literally reliving the best day of his life forever. And even if it did mean personal growth, the idea that a person could make what would be, unequivocally, the most selfish decision in human history, and then spend his life celebrating the outcome, oh but if he overcame a personal demon in the process then on balance that’s maturity? That is lightspeed solipsism! Who are you if you think that way? Are you all Adam Sandler???

And none of that makes this a bad ending, or Gary a bad character. I mean, he is the reason The World’s End is my least favorite, and I don’t like the ending, but I don’t think it’s bad that I don’t like the ending. Rather than watch another addict pull his life together or destroy himself, we watch a downward spiral with so much gravity the whole world self-destructs alongside him. And that’s why The World’s End is the most interesting of the three: it is a bold choice, and I think we are free to feel however we want about the conclusion Gary engineered for himself. I don’t think it’s valid to pretend it didn’t happen.

In the context of the trilogy, we see that Shaun’s immaturity is mostly a problem for Shaun: he would be, at worst, a footnote in the lives of the people who love him; “yeah, I liked Shaun a lot, but I couldn’t carry him through life anymore.” Nicholas is the kind of overachiever that is useful if pointed in the right direction; juvenile code of ethics aside, he is, empirically, helping the community (within the entirely fictional framework where that’s a thing police do). If the world hadn’t changed to turn their flaws into strengths, they would still be relatively harmless. Gary is what happens when immaturity isn’t harmless, and shows us how a world built by that immaturity would look.

There is an appeal to Gary King, a wish fulfillment. Letting your id fully off the leash because you no longer care what anybody thinks - it’s why some people drink, and it’s why some people would like to drink with Gary. But if that’s not just your Friday night, not just your twenties, but that’s your life? There is a destination at the end of that road, and it’s Gary doing something truly ugly. And we see that ugly thing the way Gary sees it: as awesome. But then you see the reality: the Monday morning after the Friday night. We went out with Gary and he did something terrible.

And I’m not telling you to hate Gary for it; I’m not saying Gary can’t be forgiven. In fact, seeing it for what it is is the only way Gary could be forgiven, because, if he “grew up and took responsibility,” there’s nothing to forgive.

I think this is the only way the trilogy could have ended. I mean, you make stories about boys who get older and older and don’t grow up, it eventually becomes a problem. There’s only two ways to resolve it: you either end with a guy actually sorting his shit out, or you go for broke and show what happens if he doesn’t. And I think some of us boys saw that and said, “no, noooo, they did grow up! all three of them!” rather than say, “haha! hahaaa! ……………shit.”

[nthspecialll]

Hiii! I love all your character analysis posts and theories so much, and was wondering if you have done any theories about where the gang was before Blackwater, by chance? I think I saw a post recently mentioning Montana but I can't for the life of me remember if it was you who posted it or not! 😅

But I've wondered about their locations before RDR2 a lot and would love to hear your thoughts about it. I remember reading a very early page in Arthur's journal about how they were in the Northen Grizzlies? But apart from that I can't remember anything else about locations, if there were any mentioned. And I'm sorry if you have done a post like this already, it's just a little piece of the backstory I'd like to hear theories about 😊

I have not talked about it but I definetely can! Also thank you for liking my stuff!!

Well, firstly, some places that exist in real life does not exist in red dead and those are the places on the map. Texas is New Austin, New Orleans is Saint Denis and Luisiana is Lemoyne, meanwhile Californa and New York does exist in game, meaning we can't completely be sure what places exist unless they are directly mentioned.

Firstly, we know they have been in Chicago, that is where Dutch and Hosea met! Then in 1877 the pair went to Kettering, Ohio, where they scammed 300$ out of the residents, later that year we know that they met Arthur in the Northern states somewhere, which could also be Montana! We do not know more than it was someplace in the North.

We also know some time before they met Arthur, they went to Blackwater once but exactly when we do not know.

In 1885 we know they were in Illinois, saving and picking up John Marston and two years later they robbed their first bank Lee and Hoyt, which we do not know where is.

But between then and 1898, they robbed 36 banks across the frontier as stated by Ross in rdr1, which is where we get the famous "We were told there was a price when we reached 50." The wiki page of the VDL gang does say they came to Montana in 1898 but they won't give me source to confirm it, which is a little annoying, but just mentioning it.

We know at some point between 1893 and 1898, after Bill joining the gang, they went to Canada, him, Arthur and Uncle robbing a bank together.

We also know that for a while they would return to the same places for Arthur's romances. Both with Eliza, where he could pop by every few months and for Mary, whom they at least returned to after 1894 when Abigail joined, and before the deaths of Annabelle and Bessie.

Either way, now we come to the fun parts, around winter 1898, the gang was up in what is called the Northern Grizzles, we only have access to the western (Around Mount Hagen) and Eastern (O'Creagh's Run), so I would assume that the Northen are outside the map, probably up above the Wapiti Reservation somewhere.

They traveled down the "Western Foothill of the mountians", not sure what road they took as it could be one off map, which I would honestly guess, probably traveling around the cold of Colter and coming in from left side of the map. Either way, they most likely ended up somewhere down by and Big Valley, which can match up with the fact that Arthur mentions that life was good and food was easy to find. That area does have a lot of easy food access and so forth.

Now I have seen a few people say Dutch met Micah in Strawberry, which is honestly very fair assumption, it matches up with a lot, but a simple fact is forgotten, Strawberry does not have a bar, which is where they met.

I would say that Micah most likely had been in Strawb and done, whatever business he had with Slim and Martha (I believe their names were), and traveled up and out of map where he met Dutch and then decided to join them back down.

Afterwards they traveled down to Blackwater where they "hid in plain sight" right outside town as Arthur says he does not like being so close to the town, and considering how close they were to Valentine, I would guess they camped at the ledges where Charles and Javier hides when going to find Sean, either there or the other side of the town.

Blackwater Camp:

But even though they were camped so close to down, Arthur funnily enough still stayed in town from time to time. It does however not seem that they were settled there or in Big Valley for very long, as Arthur also says that they have been running more than normally those weeks.

Now we get to a bit that confuses me because suddenly the group goes from the southern part of the map down in Blackwater, to suddenly appearing up by Spider Grove by Colter, and Arthur mentions that they headed "east over the Grizzlies" so they went west from Blackwater, out of the map, and then up North only to go east again. Not to mention that it seems they did it in a fairly short time, they haven't had proper time to talk about what happened, they were still shook, Davey was not yet dead from a gut wound and Jenny was burried not far from where we first see the gang?

See that is a little confusing, but I hope that answers your question! I had a lot of fun answering it at least, rereading Arthur's journal and all.

[boydepartment]

“i’m in love with you” - with enhypen

a/n: last post for tonight i am sorry i’m trying to get back in a groove i promise

warnings- angst, fluff, it’s a good mix 😋 reader is intoxicated in jakes

wc- i’d say 100 words per member

MASTERLIST

jungwon- stupid for you by waterparks

you knew jungwon was a smart man. he always had a plan and he was always observant. until it came to you. oh my god he was so so so stupid. for years you were pining after him and always hyping him up. he always thought that’s just what friends do. so one day when you were hanging out at the dorms he turned to you.

“i don’t think you’ve ever had a crush on someone? that i’ve known about?” jungwon was curious. because he did like you, hell he LOVED you. he was just too stupid to realize you actually liked him back.

“because i haven’t.” you shrugged simply, you saw his face fall so you continued speaking, “…but i have been in love with you for years now.”

heeseung- my love mine all mine by mitski

heeseung and you have been dating for a couple months now, your relationship healthy. something you never thought you’d get in your life. for the most part you thought you’d die alone or unexpectedly. your luck was always against you, except when it came to heeseung… you both were in the kitchen slowly swaying back and forth. he told you about his busy day and you just watched him talk. his little mannerisms making your heart feel so warm.

“what’s going on in your pretty head right now, princess?” his smile got you

“i’m in love with you.”

jay- sea of love by cat power

jay had been in love with you since he became sentient. he spilled something on you in daycare and that was it. you smacked him upside the head and BOOM sentient. you were his first real memory. he’d never want that taken away from him.

but people grow, and move apart from eachother. and that’s what happened, while you continued studying, he became an idol. of course you still saw him for family things, but he’d always had a camera or body guard with him. it wasn’t the same anymore. so you distanced more. this wasn’t the lifestyle you liked or wanted.

during a holiday meal, jay finally got a minute alone and he pulled you into another room.

“what’s going on with you? i haven’t seen you in forever and now it’s like you don’t want to be around me…” jay mumbled

you looked at him now feeling extremely guilty, “i-i don’t know… it’s just a lot, your lifestyle isn’t for me and-“

it was now or never for jay.

“i’m in love with you. me being an idol isn’t forever. i want forever with you…”

jake- your graduation by modern baseball

you and jake had history. too much of it. it was constant of you calling him to pick you up from a party or something that you weren’t proud of. he was sick of it. jake was tired of watching you practically waste away. it pissed him off. and it honestly pissed you off, why did he care so much when he was the one who would never take your confessions of love seriously?

which led to the argument in the driveway, you drunk off alcohol and him drunk off anger.

“why do you even do this?! you didn’t used to be like this in highschool!” he yelled waving his hands around.

you poked him in the chest, “i don’t owe you any explanation for my feelings!”

“what do you have to be feeling about y/n?! to the point of making fucked up decisions!?”

his voice was loud.

you had enough, “IM IN LOVE WITH YOU AND NO MATTER WHAT I DO YOU NEVER NOTICE IT!”

sunghoon- kiss me by sixpence none the richer

sunghoon was infatuated with you. every spring you worked the saturday market. and every spring he would be your number one customer. always tipping you and always buying your produce. whether it be the apples, flowers, grapes, strawberries, anything. his favorite was when you made bracelets one year though. this went on for a really long time. sunghoon wanted to play the long game with you, you didn’t know he was an idol clearly. and he didn’t want to scare you.

“there’s my favorite customer! sunghoon how are you?” you’d smile at him. all sunghoon wanted was to kiss you, you and your bright smiling face.

“i’m really good today!”

he’d visit more than usual and the flirty banter would come back almost immediately.

“with how much of my stuff you buy i’d assume you’re like in love with me.” you laughed slightly

“i am. i am in love with you.”

sunoo- puppy princess by hot freaks

you had a boyfriend and sunoo was STUCK. he didn’t know why it bothered him so much that you were dating someone. you were his best friend, what was the issue?

oh yeah the fact he’s in love with you? yeah…. that’s a pretty big issue.

no matter what though, he kept you smiling and he kept dreaming. at some point sunoo couldn’t hold it in anymore. especially after your boyfriend dumped you out of the blue.

“he doesn’t know what he’s doing y/n. you’re too good for him.”

you looked at him with tears in your eyes, for a few minutes now he’s been joking with you trying to keep you laughing.

“i don’t know…. sunoo you’re gonna be biased because we’re friends.”

sunoo gave you a look, “i’m going to be biased because i’m in love with you.”

riki- apple cider by beabadoobee

you were never supposed to like him at all, you didn’t WANT to. neither did he if he was being honest. it was a weird dynamic between you and him. riki was conflicted and so were you, which led to both of you growing distant thinking the other was tired with the other.

one night when he had free time, he finally made his way to your home. riki obviously stuck out, it was dangerous and stupid but he was running on adrenaline. he knocked on the door hands shaking, when your parent called you from your room you were shocked to see riki standing there. he was obviously not supposed to be here.

“what’re you doing here?” you walked out and wrapped yourself up more when you shut the door behind you, now standing with him outside. it was cold and late, well later at night. you thought something was wrong especially when he refused to speak. you went closer to him and put a hand on his head to check his temperature.

“are you sick? did something happen? do you need to come in-“

“i’m in love with you.” he blurted out

[aziraphales-library]

Hi there everyone! Thank you so much for everything that you do~

I was wondering if you could please recommend some fics that have absolutely beautiful prose? I couldn't find a tag for it but similar to A portrait in synesthesia or The Injury Of Finally Knowing You (unpack_my_heart_with_words).

Thank you and hope you're all having a lovely day❤

Here are some fics from my bookmarks that I have tagged "beautiful"...

Strawberry Wine by GaryOldman (NR)

Human AU Ineffable Husbands one shot. "You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you." - Richard Siken

Empty and Desolate, The Air by asparkofgoodness (M)

Ever a guardian, Aziraphale kept watch. Sliver-shafts of moonlight sliced ribbons across Crowley’s face. The emptiness of it unnerved the angel. Even in slumber, his expressive face had always told stories. Syllables shifted in the corners of his mouth; sentences found themselves punctuated with the movement of an eyebrow. Now, only still silence, even in sleep.   Heavenly forces decide the best way to get their once-dutiful soldier back is to slaughter his only real reason for rebellion. Their attempt leaves Crowley wounded and voiceless. Aziraphale tries his best to heal him and accept the soundlessness of this new verse of their song.

You Said Go Slow (I Fall Behind) by BlackUnicorn (G)

Further up, still, half-hidden by the branches of the trees and the leaves of the hedges, stood a cottage. It looked like any other cottage, really, with a thatched roof and a fainted paintjob and a garden out back. However, anyone who took a closer look would agree that this particular cottage was, in fact, quite extraordinary – the roses ranking up the stone arch in the front bloomed more lustrous than any roses ever seen on earth, the car in the driveway was almost antique and yet looked like it had rolled out of the factory no longer than a few weeks ago, the shelves inside held more books than should be physically possible, and the Mona Lisa sketch in the hallway was said to have been signed by dear old Leo himself. And there, in the first-floor bedroom, covered by piles of duvets and blankets, lay the Demon Crowley, alone, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling from behind his sunglasses, waiting for dawn. *** Sometimes healing and moving on is the hardest part.

Exit Wounds by racketghost (T)

“At least they were together for a time,” Crowley says, staring at the lit end of his cigarette, “maybe that’s enough.” Part 1 of Strange Moons series (G-E)

l’esprit de l’escalier by seekwill (M)

l’esprit de l’escalier: that feeling you get when you leave a conversation and think of all the things you should have said With his books and his clothes and other curiosities he’d collected since beginning his time in London, Aziraphale considered himself a curator of beautiful things. He found beauty in people too, in the way they moved and spoke and laughed. This man, who was very nearly past him now, almost gone, shook him. He couldn’t understand why. There was an impulse to reach out, to wrap his blunt fingers around the man’s skinny wrist on his handlebars, say “Hello there, might you have a moment to explore why I’ve fallen in love with you just now?” An adaptation of Jean-Pierre Jeunet's 2001 film Amélie, as part of the GO Romantic Comedy Event

Not a Human AU by maniacalmole (G)

Aziraphale knows Crowley has a crush and doesn't know what to do about it. Aziraphale wasn’t sure if he considered himself ‘alive’ or not. What would he do if he had to live a life? We may not be people, Crowley thought. But I do—I do want.

And the two you mentioned...

The Injury Of Finally Knowing You by unpack_my_heart_with_words (T)

Once in heaven, the angels do what they always do— a kindness. The only blessing is that without his memories, Aziraphale has no idea what he has lost. It will end, as it began, in a garden.

A Portrait in Synesthesia by DiminishingReturns (M)

In the innocent time before the Fall complicated everything, one shy, studious chronicler and one curious, chaotic starmaker fell in love. They were left with no memory of each other, but the soul remembers what the mind forgets, and their experiences together left them with a unique kind of synesthesia— the emotional state, mannerisms, and voice of one having a paired physical response (smell, taste, or color) in the other. Follow Aziraphale and Crowley from the pre-Fall times to the Apocalypse as these heightened earthly senses continually pull them back together. At first, they meet tentatively under Halley’s Comet, the last thing Crowley created as a starmaker and an excuse to keep returning to one another’s orbit. But over the millennia, their relationship deepens and they find new reasons to seek each other’s company.

- Mod D

[lexsssu]

NGL, you mentioning Leon Kennedy is now making me think he's clingy af to everyone who loves him, 'cause I've been getting the urge to replay RE2R/RE4 recently just because of him.

To, uh, gaze at him respectfully. Very respectfully. 👀👀👀

Bro yesssssssssssss

I swear that bby boi is so affection-starved after everything that happened to him that the moment he finds real love, there's no way he's holding back <3

And with that, here's what I came up for Leon so far because he decided to invade my dreams-- HAHAHAHA

TAGS: Older!Leon (late 30s-early 40s)/F!reader(early-mid 20s), age gap, pervy thoughts, affection-starved!Leon, headcanons Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

Older!Leon who'd all but given up any semblance of a normal relationship after everything he's gone through. He lazes about in the coach of the cheap apartment he sentenced himself into living in (despite the swanky and secure government housing freely provided as one of the top agents) with a cold beer while some random series was playing on low volume on the TV

Older!Leon who hears knocking on his door and begrudgingly answers it only to be met with the prettiestcutestmostgorgeousmouthwatering person he'd ever seen in his life

Older!Leon gets a full whiff of your strawberries & cream scent even before you opened your mouth and has him thinking of everything that is innocent, good, and worth protecting in this world. He then realizes that you'd already introduced yourself and that he'd been staring at you like a creep this whole time

“Kennedy…Uhhh…Leon S. Kennedy,” he half mumbles and states as he tries not to look too deeply into your eyes lest he finds himself lost in their depths. He doesn’t need to look more of a creep than you might have already thought he was

 And when you don’t immediately run for the hills, he internally sighs in relief. It’s a foreign feeling to him, because after all the horrors he’d witnessed and experienced, the last thing he ever worried about was how other people perceived him

That he was actually worried about what you thought about him despite having only met is both alarming and yet somehow…comforting? It tells him that despite how broken he thinks he is, he’s not so broken as to no longer care at all about anything

…It also helps that you’re such a cutie that it’s impossible for him not to care about you. Especially when you keep bringing him your homemade food all the time

The animal part of his brain rumbles with pleasure at how you were already being such a good mate by making sure he’s well-fed when he’d yet to properly bond you to him. It reinforces the idea that some part of you unconsciously knew that he was the one for you

“It’s the first time I’ve lived on my own, and I guess I’m just not used to making only food for one. I don’t like letting food go to waste either, so I thought maybe one of the neighbors might appreciate it. Safe to say that I never get to any of the other neighbors since you’re always gratefully accepting my cooking, Mr. Kennedy”

Had he been a lesser man, your playful teasing would have resulted in you pinned to the floor as he loomed over you, covering your naughty little mouth with his. He could already imagine the tiny squeak you’d let out in surprise or the delicious whimpers he’d coax from your plush lips that he’d only swallow up

“I think we’re more than acquainted enough to get past our surnames, don’t you think? Just Leon is fine with me, doll.” 

The first time he hears his given name spoken from your lips, his traitorous brain conjures up an image of you with your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head as he fucks your pretty pussy open with his cock 

Was he getting too attached because you were the first person outside of the dangerous world he lived in who showed genuine care without expecting anything in return?

…Perhaps

But did he really care? 

Honestly, no

If anything, it’s only a matter of time until he no longer had to imagine waking up next to you in the morning or getting back home from a mission or the office and having you wrapped in a pretty little apron without anything underneath waiting patiently for him

[nanaminokanojo]

ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE | part 18

-meet cute? a cheesy musical number? forget it! love makes itself known to you through a minor car accident, a broken arm, and a treacherously charming temporary chauffeur

CHARACTERS: sukuna x you/reader | jjk characters

GENRE: full-length smau + prose | bad boy x good girl | college au | a lot of firsts | aged-up characters | strangers to lovers | smut | fluff | angst | ooc depictions - soft sukuna ftw

TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts | mentions of alcohol and/or smoking | mentions of injury, promiscuity and bullying | pet names because they're cute with 2D men | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX

<<prev part 18 next>>

A/N: This contains prose and panels in between. Same for Part 19. This part is just too long to put on screenshots.

If looks could kill, Haibara Yu will be on the kitchen floor in a pool of his own blood with the way Sukuna was looking at him like he was going to pop a vein on his forehead. It was almost comical since he was holding onto a bottle of strawberry milk and looked like he was about to squeeze it broken with how tight his fists were.

“Man, she seems different from the stories is all I'm saying.”

Sukuna eyed him enquiringly, a menacing hint to it as he breathed out slowly. As far as he was concerned, he never heard any bad rumor about you. “What stories?” He noted the defensive note in his tone, his protective side coming out.

“You heard me.” Yu lifted his shoulders slightly to express uncertainty. “She gets invited to all the parties but she declines all of them and everyone thinks she’s a two-faced snob. And I also heard someone claiming that she said she doesn't mix with commoners.”

It explained why Sukuna has never seen you in any of the parties he has been in. He only knew you from school, and if he did see you at any party, he wouldn’t have passed up the opportunity to approach you at least once. He knew himself, and he appreciated beauty. But maybe that was for the better because then, you probably wouldn’t have liked to be in the same breathing space as him with the way he acts in those gatherings.

His facial muscles suddenly rearranged into a scowl, causing the other male to back away. “Who said that?” he hissed. He couldn’t accept what he was hearing. At the same time, he doesn’t understand where the irritation was coming from. He just can’t take it hearing the slander being thrown at you. You didn’t deserve it at all.

“Do those people even realize how busy she is?”

“Dude, I just heard that.”

“I know, but she’s the real deal. Don’t go listening to what those pricks at school are saying. She’s the kindest person I’ve ever known. She’s so nice to me. Me!”

“Figures,” Yu said slowly, smirking.

“Go talk to her. Get to know her. You’ll get the proof you want,” Sukuna challenged but Yu shook his head. “If she’s being nice to evil little Ryomen, then that’s proof enough.”

"You wanna die?"

"Man, I believe you! Geez!"

Sukuna still shot Yu a dirty look as he walked back to the living room, unable to wrap his head around the fact that there were actually people who disliked you. It made him sick.

TAG LIST: @catobsessedlady @kyo-kyo1 @junehasnotbeenfound @lavender-hvze @guacam011y @eyered @hellomeow12 @its-princessmara @light-yagami-l @domainofmarie @mythoscalliope @noble-17 @pheonix-eclipses @weebbuscuit @sukunasbudussy @lu-c1na @vinnieswife @the-haitani-baton @iaminyourfloors @needtoloveoutloud @r-ryuko09 @somestardeww @swirlingcurses @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @bronze-metal @iluv-ace

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S “JUJUTSU KAISEN”. [20240520]

PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[redd956]

Worldbuilding Food: More than meets the eye

So, you want to world build food but maybe you don't know where to start, have hit a roadblock, or are just looking for some interesting places to addon to. I've got your back.

Vegetables, Fruits, Grain, Nuts, & Fungi

One of the first things I think of when it comes to food is fruits and vegetables, and the line between them is surprisingly small.

Like tomatoes are vegetables? Pumpkins are fruits but other gourds are not? When does a herb become a vegetable? Although important to classify, don't let it be your main focus.

Start with

How the produce grows

What it looks like throughout different stages of its life

What parts are edible

How most people consume the produce

How the product is harvested

Is it seasonal

What about the produce that makes its growable environment habitable

How it spreads/reproduces

There's many different unique ways fruits and vegetables grow in just our real world, but that doesn't mean you can stop there.

Cranberries grow on vines that actually float on the surface of soggy ground and water in wetlands. Cashews actually grow on the bottom of cashew apple, which is it's own edible product. There's lots of different ways plants can grow, and what they even need to do so.

Some produce even have their own defense mechanisms (which often which becomes a form of flavor to us). Don't think these defense mechanisms stop at protection from predators. Strawberries are an aggressive plant, fighting, killing, and taking over any nearby plant neighbors. Some plants have thistles and thorns, and others are the hard shell or peel we end up effortlessly cutting through.

Try to think of some environmental things in the world your working with that the produce would have adapted to.

I think my favor example of this IRL is sunflowers. They change directions to face the sun, and when they can't find the sun they face each other. Eventually their seeds weigh them down, and which they'll always face east.

Don't forget fungi is edible too, and has it's very own unique properties.

(Don't forget yeast -> bread, you can make up whatever food you want)

Meats & Agricultural Animals

I myself am not a meat-eater, but I understand the importance of animal products to a society. If you world doesn't have it, don't fret. This sector won't just be about meat products, but it will contain a lot of it.

Food and what animals are considered for consumption changes from culture to culture. The same can be said for treatment leading up to their role in society as the food on people's plates. Often times a culture cannot imagining eating an animal they see as part of the family, such as dogs or cats IRL, but other times it's seen part of a religious practice such as cows.

There's a lot of cultural stuff that goes into our agricultural animals, both for work, dairy, textiles, and food.

Here's some ideas to start with

What parts of them are edible and used for food

Do they produce any dairy or egg products

How old do they have to be before becoming a produce animal

Are the animals used for other resources too i.e. bones, fur, skins, skulls, blood, etc.

How much food does one animal make

Typically how are they are killed, if they are

What conditions are these animals kept in and are they viewed humane

What environments allow these animals to thrive alongside the people of your world

What does the animal eat

Now... Let's into some culture and religion

Religion and culture has a major impact on what we eat. Take for instance Kosher, Halal, and more. Historical shortages in food even to this day affect what foods we eat. Culture also affects our tastes. The corn line of the United States is drowning in corn, and yet corn is seen as a sweet treat over seas in many nations.

Harvesting

How the harvesting goes changes a lot about a society, big and small. Think about how terrible a year would go in medieval times if harvest came up incredibly poor, or how wealthy our modern day world would look to those people due to mass production.

Here's some things to think about

What time of year are the biggest and most important harvest(s)

How common are agricultural workers

What would the average person see if they watched people work

What technology/tools are used

What happens if the harvest goes wrong

Do farmers/harvesters get special rights for their role in society

In older societies harvesting and how that went completely shaped how the next year would look. In some cultures the harvesters have been revered, while in other if crossed to far would be expected to tear the country to pieces. Think about the role harvesting plays in your society. What would happen if they striked? Or if a disaster swept the land?

The environment itself will change a lot about what harvesting look likes. Why does this environment work? What are the environmental risk to both the crop and workers?

Are we farming in the water, in the middle of the arctic, underground, high up in the trees?

Exotic Food & Immigration

While establish what the everyday food in the area is, don't forget to pay mine to the opposites. Immigration and trade play a major role in what foods end up on our plate. As cultures combine and mingle so do their food.

Take one look at the United States, infamous for it's large potions, fatty foods, and immigrant culture cuisine. A lot of foods in the United States are the results of cultures meeting to improve and add onto one another's foods, that includes American styles of pizza, tacos, and more.

Even major cities around the world have styles of foods unique to them.

Let's think

What locally seen foods count as exotic

What foods are nearly impossible to get

Is there access to foreign brands/produce

How expensive is most exotic foods

What styles of cooking are being brought in by foreigners

How do people get exotic foods

What foods would the locals not be able to eat due to not being used to it

Try to think about what makes this food exotic in the local area. Maybe it cannot grow in the local environment. Maybe the quality of the food is simply better overseas. Maybe the animal or plant is far too aggressively invasive for locals.

Trade & Transport

Food is both a very important export and import, especially in time of devastation.

Don't forget about exports too, what is your society giving out to the world, and getting back. Not all trade has to be capital based. Perhaps your world simply trades on good or service for another.

Here's some things to think about

What's being exported and imported

Are whole animals imported/exported

How is the trade being done i.e. trains, boats, aircraft, teleportation, etc.

Are there any obstacles to trade

What places are all involved in trading

How is the trade brought to where it needs to be inland

In what ways do these trades improve the lives of locals

Transportation is also super important to where food ends up, and more so in what volumes. How do people get all these produce or animals relocated? What kinds of storage are we seeing to keep things fresh (if health standards are even up to code in your worldbuilding)?

What poses a threat to things in storage? i.e. mold, foxes, animal thieves, disease, etc.

Restrictions

With supply and demand, comes outages, taxes, and restrictions. Unfortunately not everything in the food world goes right. There's natural disasters to come and destroy crops, hostile settlements to block trade, and especially that person who is really bad at cooking but they love doing it so you don't have the heart to say no....

Anyway let's talk restrictions and where they can come from

Wartime

Wartime can cause a lot of original farmers and workers to become soldiers. It also can lead to the large scale destruction of precious farm land, crops, animals, and overall places to cook.

Laws

Perhaps there's a particularly poisonous food, and way too many suspiciously poisoned people. That's when law comes in. There's many reasons for food and drink to become outlawed. Religious reasons, danger, regulations, inebriation, etc.

Siege/Embargo/Thievery

Knock knock! It's the United States here to embargo your random country. Outside factions can always become an obstacle, leading to loss of traveling cargo or straight up missing farmers too. Nothing comes in, and sometimes nothing comes out.

Endangered

Perhaps a common plant or favored animal is running low on populous. Now locals are more so focused on reanimating a dwindling population, more so on eating it.

Sickness

Whether it be hoards of invasive bugs, prion disease caused by cannibalistic animal feed, or sudden inexplicable field of dead corn sickness happens. Maybe something has swept over the land, and no one ever bothered to try to plant said crop again.

Natural Disasters

Natural disasters can not only cause the elimination of entire villages, but accidentally bring in lots of invasive creatures too. Catfish is off the menu for as long as carp is intown.

Straight Up Difficulty

Sometimes a fruit appears once a year, or a tasty creature is a dangerous one to take on in order to eat. It can be difficult getting the right ingredient sometimes. Other times it's new to the market. So much can happen when food is involved.

Preparation & Flavor

Finally all the food in the world is available, but what are we going to do with it.

Make it even better!

I personally find preparation to be the best part of worldbuilding. Now I get to imagine my fictional little people stewing their pots, and kindling their fires. Reflect off of real world recipes, and maybe even write down exact fantasy recipes of your own.

Don't forget about herbs and spices (I see you British people).

You have five basic taste receptors in your mouth: sweet, sour, salty, bitter, and savory. They make great descriptors and fun places to explore when looking into what your foods taste like. Smell can play an important role too.

Does it smell awful and taste great, smell sweet and taste bitter, perhaps it doesn't have anything at all going on.

Happy worldbuilding!

[lovekz]

strawberry milk

syn -> rindou accidentally captures your heart with strawberry milk, but he has no regrets.

beware of.. bullying, ran acts like rindou's mom, violence, mention of a teacher-student relationship (not real)

"rin! can you go to the store?!" ran called out from the kitchen.

rindou sat in the living room playing his video game, oblivious to any of ran's calls to him.

he had finally made it to the boss level and was not letting ran get in the middle of it by being annoying.

ran has never been one to care about what others think though.

so, he walked over to the living room and pulled the plug from his game.

rindou let out a horrified scream, standing up from his seat almost immediately.

ran watched as his brother scattered around the room in a panic, looking for the plug that stood in his hands.

when rindou finally noticed, he launched his controller at him.

"what the fuck ran?!" rindou cursed, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration.

"i said go to the store. you have all weekend to play the game." ran said, crossing his arms and frowning in disappointment.

where did he go wrong in raising this boy?

"go yourself and give me back the plug." rindou scoffed, crossing his arms at ran.

ran didn't budge though, just staring at rindou like he'd grown fifty heads one time.

kakucho peeked from out of the kitchen, seeing the two brothers stare at each other.

"if it's such a big deal, i can go-" "shut up kaku." the brothers said, glaring at the older male.

he held his hands up in defense, watching the two brother's go back to staring at each other.

"fine. you owe me." rindou huffed, shoving his feet into his sneakers and grabbing his wallet.

"i'm making you dinner, i don't owe you shit." ran said, gesturing to the kitchen.

ran has never cooked a day in his life, so rindou isn't sure if he should trust him.

maybe he'll grab a burger or something while he's out.

~

the walk to the store was not long, it was just draining to be outside.

it was supposed to rain later in the day, so the sky was full of grey and saggy clouds.

the streets were partially clear for the upcoming storm, save for the people who had work and needed to be out.

and of course, the movie-like bullies from rindou's school.

they were always bothering this timid girl, who'd always mind her business and get her shit over with.

it seems like they found her outside in this shitty weather, as rindou could hear them yelling and giggling from a mile away.

'they continue this outside of school too?' rindou thought, passing the alley they were in.

what made him pause was the low 'let's get a picture for him. he'll love to see her in a short skirt.'

rindou seen you around numerous of times. not once did he ever see you wear something that didn't touch or at least go past your dainty fingers.

rindou stepped into the alley, seeing the flash of the camera go off.

what the hell is he gonna do about a girl that doesnt even give two shits about him?

you little whimpers could be heard, and that gave rindou his answer.

whoop their ass.

rindou let the metal end of his umbrella collide with one of their heads harshly, knocking them out efficiently.

"what are you guys doing?" rindou questioned, rolling his head and stretching lightly.

"don't interrupt us teaching the teacher-fucker a lesson, or you're next." one of the guys scoffed, squaring up.

"try me." rindou chuckled, launching his umbrella square into another guys nose.

he didn't have to do much, because once his hood fell, everyone paused and began running.

yells of 'shit! it's one of the haitani brothers!' could be heard before they scattered out of the alley.

rindou rolled his eyes and looked down at you, who was coward into one of the walls.

you were struggling to cover whatever was revealed, while a slightly sweet but strong scent emitted off you.

it wasn't piss, and perhaps it was the strawberry milk from the carton that was splattered all over the floor.

or maybe...

"did you really?" rindou started, tilting his head.

you looked up at him confused, not sure of what he was talking about.

rindou looked outside of the alley, and then back at you.

"fuck the teacher?" rindou elaborated, rubbing his forehead lightly.

you were a smart girl, so he wasn't understanding why you were so confused as to what he was talking about.

"oh. uhm- no. i didn't." you said, voice coming out peek.

it was the first time rindou had ever even heard you speak, though it was pretty low.

but he was glad to confirm it wasn't some form of semen on you.

rindou nodded, taking in your figure. it was going to get chilly.

in his rush to go to the store, he hadn't taken off his home shorts before putting on his sweatpants.

he didn't want to be cold, but he also didn't want you to go home like that.

the pants were new, and a bit baggy on him. so they'll be much baggier on you.

rindou sighed, before taking his sweatpants off and handing it to you.

his phone buzzed, stopping him from explaining to you.

rindou held a finger up and read the message from his brother.

[5:41pm] aniki : hey rinnie, you can come home. i actually had what i needed from the store. oopsies ;)

rindou scowled at the message, before looking up at you again.

you were trembling pretty hard.

"how about i get you a proper change of clothes and take you home?" rindou suggested, gesturing outside of the alley.

he didn't have to say much earlier, as you put on the sweats that he'd handed you earlier.

at least you were smart enough to put two and two together.

"i can get you something to eat as well?" rindou suggested, looking towards the bag of groceries on the floor.

and you greatly appreciated the kind gesture.

~

when school started back, and rindou had class with you, he decided to sit next to you.

you allowed it, smiling gratefully at him.

he dug in his bag for a bit, and pulled out a small carton before sliding it over to you.

you raised your eyebrow, before looking at rindou in slight confusion.

"do you like strawberry milk?" rindou asked, taking out another carton and taking a sip.

you nodded, opening the straw and popping it into the hole.

following behind the male next to you, you take a sip of your drink with a quiet hum.

"i remember seeing it on the floor and your clothes the day i helped you." rindou shrugged, sipping his own.

you smiled, muttering a small thank you to him once more.

the two sat in comfortable silence, before you had remembered something.

"oh! i brought your sweats." you smiled sweetly, going to dig through your school bag.

rindou put his hand on your shoulder to stop you, shooting you a small smile.

"it's cool. keep em." rindou said, waving you off.

he wasn't going to take it away from you when you'd look so adorable in them.

~

when you and rindou had finally gotten closer, you decided to invite him over to your house.

it wasn't anything too serious. you had explained that your parents were gone and you didn't want to be in the house by yourself.

rindou understood, and accepted your invitation.

now the two of you were in comfortable clothes laying in your bed, watching some shitty romance movie with strawberry milk.

rindou wasn't really enjoying it, but you were, so that was all that mattered to him.

"i want romance like that." you groaned in annoyance, resting your head against your palm.

rindou chuckled, and rolled his eyes.

the scene was a short slideshow of the couple. taking pictures, going on dates, sharing things.

everything a cheesy couple could do.

it stayed silent for a couple of seconds, save for the movie playing in the background.

and for a split second, you heard rindou mumble something silently.

you turned your head to give him your full attention, but he'd averted his eyes as his cheeks began to dust a bright pink.

"what was that rin?" you questioned, poking his hip just a bit to get his attention.

rindou took a deep inhale and looked at you, sitting up from where he was laying at.

"i could give that to you." rindou said bravely, looking at you in your eyes.

you blinked in confusion, looking at him. "not a friendship way, rin." you explained further.

rindou nodded, still looking at you.

you sat up next to rindou and faced him, trying to figure out what he was trying to tell you.

rindou sighed, when he realized you weren't getting the memo.

"i like you. and i wanna give you that cheesy romance." rindou said, saying your name in a tone he never thought he'd use before.

you stared at him for a bit, feeling your face get hot.

unfortunately, rindou took your silence as a bad sign.

"it's cool. maybe i should go." rindou muttered, putting down his strawberry milk and gathering his clothes to change.

he didn't mean to make you uncomfortable if he did.

before he could step a single toe out of your bedroom door you launched yourself onto him.

you held onto him tightly and wouldn't let go.

"please?" you asked, looking up at rindou from his chest.

"i'd love to have that romance with you." you whispered, intertwining your fingers with rindou.

and all it really took was strawberry milk.

[thatlovinfeelin]

He Don't Like The Lights | Bradley Bradshaw Actor AU|

Waiting tables wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t your favorite job either. Not that you hated it, because you didn’t. For the most part you liked your coworkers, your roommate Celeste being one of them. Your bosses weren’t horrible, and the pay was alright. You were able to pay your bills and stash some extra cash away for savings. Soon, or at least you hoped it would be soon, you would be able to move out of the somewhat shitty place with Celeste and get a better apartment. Maybe even leave Virginia altogether. 

“Hey, I need you to take table five.” 

“But it’s not in my section tonight,” You argue with your manager. 

“Just take it, okay? It's a single and you’re better with singles than Celeste,” He replied, shooing you away with his hands. 

You let out a dramatic sigh, rolling your eyes as you grabbed your waitress book and headed towards the single guy sitting at the table. You never sized up tables before you started serving them, never tried to write people off before they had a chance to show their colors. 

But you could tell that this guy was hot just by the way he was sitting with a baseball cap tugged low. He at least knew how to wear a damned hat unlike some of the guys who came in with it halfway on their heads. 

“Hi, welcome in, can I get you started with anything to drink?” You asked cheerfully as you stopped in front of him. 

The bar was relatively empty, which came as a surprise since it was a weekend and the weather was fairly nice. Maybe everyone was still out at the beach and would be in before dinner ended. Maybe you would get lucky and end up having a good tip night to make up for the shitfest that was last night. 

“Uh, just a Bud on draft if you have it.”

“Bud lite?” You question. 

“No, Buswieser, the real shit,” There’s a hint of a laugh in his voice. 

“I’ve got it in a bottle, is that okay?”

“Yeah that works,” He replies, tipping his head back to look up at you. 

It takes you a second to register who’s actually looking at you. You’ve seen those dark hazel eyes on screen plenty of times, because Cele is obsessed with his movies. However, what really takes you back is how normal he looks in an old beat up t-shirt and shorts. He doesn’t look like the glamourous actor that you’ve seen.

“I’m sorry- are you,” You stop and lick your lips. 

You aren’t nervous, because you aren’t obsessed with him. His movies are okay, and you have to admit he is more attractive in person than he is on screen. But you’ve never been one to fall face first over someone who’s in the industry, not that you’ve ever had the chance to before. 

“Are you Bradley Bradshaw?” The question comes out as a whisper as you lean down, trying to be as quiet as you can. 

He pales for a moment, waiting to see if you’re going to fully freak out on him before smiling sheepishly, “Caught that easily, huh?”

“You’re lucky it’s just me and not the other girl over there,” You inform him, “She’d be on the floor, and I know that because I live with her and share a TV with her. But since it’s just me,” you smile at him before backing away a step, “A bottle of Bud coming right up.”

He smiles and relaxes into his seat before looking back down at his phone on the table. You can’t help but smile as you make your way towards the bar and the POS system to start his ticket. 

Bradley Bradshaw is eating in the bar and no one but you knows. He just happened to be lucky enough that Celeste had the one big table and was therefore too busy to take him, even though it was her section. 

“Thanks for taking that table,” She sounds out of breath as she sets a drink tray down next to you, “I’m swamped with those fuckers over there. Tourists on vacation who want everything at that very moment. Including three Virgin Strawberry Daiquiris for the kids. I want to shoot myself.”

You smile to yourself as you make your way around to the beer cooler to grab a nice cold bottle of Bud, “Oh don’t worry about it. He shouldn’t cause any trouble anyway.”

If only she knew. 

“Here you go,” You say, sitting the open bottle down on his table, “Do you need a minute to look over the menu? Or do you have any questions?”

“What do you recommend?” He asked you, looking back up. 

“Pulled Pork Mac’n’cheese, easy,” You replied almost instantly, “Hands down my favorite dish here, after our Crab Dip appetizer, but I also eat that for a full meal.”

He smiles up at you and closes the menu before handing it back to you, “I’ll try that Pork Mac then.”

“Sounds good, I’ll get that right in!” You smile triumphantly before backing away once again, “Holler if you need anything, okay? I’ll be back to check on you before the food comes out.”

Back at the bar, Celeste is finally able to stop for a minute and catch her breath. She looks miserable and it makes you want to laugh a little. Her night would be very different if she just took Table Five instead. 

She’s hunched over her phone reading an article, which normally you would call her out on being on her phone but tonight you can’t be bothered. It’s slow enough and her phone is hidden anyway. 

“Hey, Bradshaw is up for a bunch of awards,” She grins, “He so deserves them. You remember how great he was in that war movie, right! That’s what’s being nominated.”

“Hmm?” You question before your brain seems to catch up with you, “Oh, yeah. No, he was great in that movie. Whole cast was, honestly.”

“Exactly! I hope they sweep at the Oscars, they all deserve it so much.”

You have to hide your smile as you type away on the POS to put in the order. In the back, you can hear your kitchen jamming out to some sort of heavy metal meets classic rock mix which isn’t all that unusual for them. There are some days you’ve come to work and they’ve been listening to Disney music. At this point you can’t even try to say that you understand what their playlists consist of. 

It takes ten minutes before you’re walking back over to the table with another beer in hand. You noticed he was starting to run low and you know better than to let a drink ever go empty. That was one of the first things you learned when you became a waitress. 

“Brought you another one,” You announce, setting it down. 

“Thanks, appreciate it,” He replies, “And uh, thanks for not freaking out on me. Would’ve been a bitch if I got swarmed in here.”

“No worries, I’m not a rabid fan or anything,” You laugh, “But I am curious as to why you’re here of all places. I thought you lived in LA?”

“I do,” He nods, “But this was home long before LA was. I was born here in Virginia, I like to come back and visit family from time to time.”

“Oh,” You’re taken back by his honesty. He could’ve easily told you that it was none of your business, which is what you expected, “That’s really nice actually.”

Celeste calls you, saying the kitchen wants you. Reluctantly you force yourself away from the table and towards the set of double swinging doors in the middle of the bar. Something about Bradley Bradshaw is drawing you in and you aren’t sure if you want to resist it or not. Surely he wouldn’t remember your name in a few hours. He’d forget about the server from Virginia the second he got on a flight back to LA and the way of the world would take back over. 

“Here’s that pork mac,” Chef told you, nudging the dish in the window, “Get it out of my sight.”

“Sir yes sir,” You reply, grabbing the hot dish, “Thank you!”

“Yeah yeah, fuck off,” He grumbled, which only made you smile. 

You made your way back towards Bradley’s table with a smile. You could see why Celeste was so enamored with him. There was just something about him that made you want to sit down and hang on his every word. Plus, he was hot as hell. He still had the mustache from his previous role, and was trying to hide behind his ball cap. He looked normal, almost.

You wondered how other people here saw him? Were they even paying attention to the bonafide star that was hiding out in the corner? Celeste would piss herself if she knew he was here, hell, you might even piss yourself if he smiled at you again. The thought made you a little weak in the knees. 

“Your pork mac,” You said, sitting it down on the table in front of him, “Be careful, it’s actually pretty hot.”

“Mmm, looks fantastic,” He nearly groaned, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, you don’t even know if you’ll like it!” You laughed, “But I hope you enjoy, and let me know if I can get you anything else.”

You hop away from him again, taking a deep breath as you go. Maybe the night wouldn’t be as bad as you thought.