#i have ideas for like... an actual chapter series but im so bad at updates so itll just rot in my docs KHJFDS

[baeshijima]

everyone... 6 days until final cbt of hsr.... head in hands....

[pansy-picnics]

Hiya!

I’m curious, what do you think uknighted dream would argue about and how would they apologise to each other?

Cause I personally think Cass hates apologising, Eugene’s not used to it, and Rapunzel according to the show can do no wrong!

Oh, and if you don’t mind me asking, are you planning on updating Children of the moon soon? Sorry, it’s just one of my favourite fics for this ship!

Thank you x

God ive been so bad about that fic i swear i have so many ideas for it but this year has been SOOO busy for me 😭😭 most of my free time has been dedicated to drawing and playing games cuz writing doesn’t come as naturally to me ngl….BUT SOON ENOUGH I WILL LOCK IN I PROMISE!!!! its been crossing my mind a lot more recently snd ive started a little bit of the next chapter…Ur guys’ support means the world to me im so happy to know people enjoy it as much as i do 🥹 and i desperately wish i had more time to dedicate to all my projects

as for your first question though….LMAO yeah the show did rapunzel DIRTY….Honestly it really depends for me, but i think you’re definitely right about cass and eugene. and rapunzel definitely struggles i think to apologize Genuinely, because she can get really overwhelmed with her guilt and anxiety to the point that she loses sight of the actual problem. its definitely a rough spot for all of them

I honestly haven’t thought abt it a lot so idk if i know what they’d fight about Specifically, but what i can come up with off the top of my head is ummm

rapunzel is a chronic Fixer. whenever someone expresses a problem to her shes quicker to try and “solve” it than she is to just. Listen because she kind of has grown up with the idea that everything is Her fault and She needs to fix everything. I think cass and eugene can end up feeling really unheard because of this. Usually it’s just something they can quickly talk through but when put on top of other conflicts it exacerbates things a LOT.

Raps, cass and eugene can all be INCREDIBLY stubborn and set in their ways and they sometimes struggle to hear each other out. rapunzel i think has her moments, but generally she isn’t too bad about it; eugene has a temper and he can be VERY petty but i think unless he REALLY has a reason to hold a grudge against you, he usually just needs about a week to cool down- but Queen of Anxious Attachment Cassandra Tangled (tm) can end up going AGES holding a grudge and just refusing to check in with anyone. as you probably can imagine it does not go well

i think bc rapunzel has such a strong belief that love is transactional she sometimes gets trapped in a cycle where she basically attempts to min-max her time with eugene and cass respectively because she worries if she isn’t spending “equal” amounts of time with them then it means she must not love them enough. as you might imagine this causes a lot more harm than good….

cass is REALLY REALLY bad at asking for help and being vulnerable and especially admitting when someone does something that hurts her. i think this causes a LOT of really stupid miscommunications between them. eugene or rapunzel are both usually able to talk her through it depending on who shes upset at…and it really helps to have a third party there who she trusts because otherwise it could easily just spiral out of control and cause her to grow bitter and distant (As seen in canon LOL)

Ummm….To be completely honest i cant really see a lot of situations where cass and eugene like, Genuinely fight after they get with rapunzel. they obviously still bicker a lot but like, frankly after they’ve both figured their shit out i just don’t think they have much of a reason to fight anymore. Their whole rivalry has always been really childish and most of the more serious stressors have already been taken care of by the time the series ends. i think most of their fights are just over stupid shit and get resolved within the hour. i think they’d have to both go through a MAJOR traumatic event to actually get as bad as they were in season 1 again LMAOOO

How they apologize definitely depends a lot on the situation (go figure) but i genuinely dont think they get into Big fights very often…so when it does happen it takes a toll on all of them.

eugene i imagine is a little extra but sincere. doesn’t do Too much because he doesn’t want to overwhelm the girls, but probably just picks a quiet night and orders takeout or makes a small dinner to talk over. sometimes it can take eugene a while to realize when he’s fucked up but when he DOES realize it, it hits him like a TRUCK and he IMMEDIATELY jumps to do everything in his power to rectify it. he’s a big softie <3

cass is a lot more prideful than raps and eugene whether she realizes it or not, so its a lot harder for her to admit her faults, even when she knows she was wrong. she doesn’t like to make a big deal of when she apologizes because it’s really embarrassing for her. she’s the kind of person to send the apology text to the group chat and have to like physically put her phone down and start pacing around the room. To me.

rapunzel, like i said struggles to genuinely apologize because her anxiety and guilt can just become so overwhelming….she usually has to spend a bit of time away before shes ready to Really talk things out. When she is she definitely shows it quietly but clearly, she writes little notes with a paper bouquet and leaves them around where the other two will find them. they leave her little notes back and let her come to them when she’s ready.

admittedly i’m Not good with thinking of character conflicts off the top of my head, they have to come to me in Visions, and i just don’t end up thinking about a lot of ukd conflicts so hopefully this is okay LOL…..I would love to hear other ppls thoughts….. :3

[sugoi-and-spice]

Do you have any bnha fic recs? Btw im such a sucker for ur bully dabi fic…. Hes so hawt

Thank you so much, I'm really glad you're enjoying it!! And oooooh, ok, this is fun lemme think.

Let's start with some Dabi fics.

I am absolutely obsessed with the Us series by @nohoney these days. All of their work is amazing, but this Dabi x Reader x Hawks series especially is just such a poignant, compelling, and (at time frighteningly) accurate representation of toxic relationships, depression, and drug use.

Loveless by Clashgirl07 is an amazing slow-burn with a really exciting and well-plotted AUish adventure. It still takes place in the hero world, but with a completely alternate story and timeline - SUPER fun! I can't even believe how talented this writer is for how young they are and I'm really excited to see what else they put out in the future.

oh you pretty thing and a bad day by an Anonymous writer who I would literally DIE to read more work by are so gd good. Very sexy and compelling mean Dabi x Reader x Shigaraki dubcon/noncon.

And now for fics and authors that are not Dabi-centric, but that I can never NOT recommend.

@shig-a-shig-ah has a really lovely Dabi one-shot, Full Circle. But the majority of their content is Shigaraki-centric and HOLY SHIT are they just a master at it. Addicted to Bad Ideas (In-Progress) and Paper Skin (Complete) are absolute masterpieces, and I'm also a particular fan of their one-shots Tutelage and Assistance - two noncon voyeur fics guest-starring All for One and Redestro respectively.

@nonobadcat also writes a lot of amazing villain content - including multi-chapter fics for underwritten characters like Mr. Compress and All for One. Their Shigaraki long fic A Taste of Your Own Venom is so well-plotted and has such an interesting MC, and it's currently left off in a really satisfying place. ^_^ A Blistering Affection is some A+ yandere Chisaki too.

GRIEFING by rotworld is the quintessential Shigaraki fic. It hasn't been updated since 2020, but I think it leaves off in a decently satisfying place and is always worth a reread imo.

[[save scum]] by @feral-creep is another masterpiece (damn, all you Shiggy stans are so talented xD). Super unique concept, great MC, and the beginnings of some sweet Dabi/Reader/Shigaraki action.

The Danger Next Door by @ratmonky is freaking chilling. AU Stalker!Shigaraki where they actually still have quirks! I'm not sure if they're planning on finishing this, but god, it's so compelling and creepy that I think it's definitely worth a read regardless.

That's what I got for now! There are so many stupidly talented writers in this fandom, particularly in our lovely little villain corner so this list is definitely not exhaustive, but I hope this gives you some fun new reads in the meantime!

[crguang]

I want to let you know that I actually squealed when I saw that there was a new part of wasted w longing, so that was embarrassing. I giggled so much, love me some domestic fluff, I also gasped so hard at the ending that I started choking. can't believe you updated while I was in class so didn't see it until later.

kafka is so smug I hate her, I want to kiss her on the mouth so bad she's such a weirdo, but at the same time, I'm mad at her, I'll forgive her if she comes home early on my pulls tho, and also some kafka groveling, very excited to see that. also the writing is so good, like at the end I was questing everything about r's encounter's w kafka. and you said replying to someone else's ask that kafka cares atp. wdym atp? istg I love angst but I can't handle angsty endings being w out kafka also you said himeko is going to show up again, and I know that'll be funny. the cliffhangers are killing me, but I'm really excited for the next part, the plot is plotting. also the way at the beginning I literally said out loud, "oh she just got shot, it's okay."

the wanted poster is so funny, like whoever wrote it down must've seen footage of her shooting people as she breaks into somewhere and thought, damn, she is hot as fuck, and tbh that was my thought process when I watched kafka's trailer the first time.

hope your first day at uni was good! if you made me loose my 50/50 I'll---

-🌠

not the squealinggg thats so cute im flattered. it’s funny whenever yall say i post when yall are busy because it’s always 4 to 6 am here i have a horrible sleep schedule 😭 i loved writing the more domestic part cause that’s the first time they actually spend time together without sleeping together and it was kinda cuteee, if you ignore the getting shot part.

“i hate her i wanna kiss her on the mouth shes such a weirdo” is exactly how i feel about kafka im so glad im not alone… also, i meant that at this point of the story kafka already knows that she likes R; she goes out of her way to look out for them, she stares a lot, wants to help them through their dilemma and other stuff that’ll come later. in her mind shes not in love with them but she does like them. i think due to her closed off nature, a lot of the little hints of how she feels are in the way she looks at R and since this is written from R’s (sometimes unreliable) perspective, i mentioned how they can’t read her eyes yet so to them there’s no reciprocation right now. and now that they’re mad at her everything she does will feel disingenuous when it might not be. it’s tricky to write bc as readers i want people to be able to tell that kafka cares even when she’s being a little shit while also staying true to how R sees things. i do think it’ll become much more obvious starting from the next chapter tho cause there will be some grovelling involved lmfaoo.

also this was literally her at the end:

r: i will call the police on you.

kafka: i am so attracted to you right now

its funny, R is always making themself available for her and has been doing that from the beginning so kafka’s very used to this behavior and its the reason why she’s so fucking smug. but now she’s seeing a new side to them that she really likes. they’re standing up for themself and i think it’s a quality that she’d find really attractive in a person. but yeah it’s fun i love this series mainly because the idea mostly came from anons so i love hearing what yall think about it.

my first day at uni was nice!! im looking to getting my shit together honestly, i feel like an actual adult now so hopefully it helps with my mood as well and makes it easier for me to be productive cause i dont write fast at all. if you lose the 50/50 bc of me i’ll write whatever you want as consolation prize

[wholemleko]

updates ig???

(reposted from my deviantart)

so i guess this is like. my plans for the future or at least where i feel like im at when it comes to comics and such.

tl;dr - bird of death is my main project now and everything else is in uncertain limbo

details under the cut:

first thing is just, the state of my projects. bird of death, which im posting now, has completely taken over my brain and its something i enjoy working on much more because its part of a bigger project that im working on with a group of 6 other people and ultimately i think art is a social thing for me. at this point ive also got a 115+ page buffer which ive never even come close to before, so i feel very much at ease about being able to put it out into the world without the months long hiatuses ive gone on with my other comics. plus, it has elements in it that are largely influenced by ideas from my previous projects which i guess leads me to my next point...

which is that im growing burnt out of my older comics. i had for a long time. i occasionally experience moments where i really love my old stories again and give myself the impression that im ready to get back into them, but then it always ends up being temporary and fizzling out again just a week or so later. like venturing. i spent years working on it and theres so much left of the story for me to tell, things that i am still excited to show. but at the same time, its a story i started when i was 16 and i guess this happens to a lot of creators, but my writing style is so different now and when i look back at it i cringe. theres also the factor that felix is almost like an undercooked version of my protagonist in bird of death (for reasons that have only vaguely been revealed). so when i think about writing his story it just feels like. he's the same guy but more poorly put together by a younger me.

this same thing goes for another comic project that ive never shared publicly but which ive been working on for just as long as ive been working on venturing. its actually the story im using for my final project for my degree lmao. the characters in it that im most invested in feel like early drafts for characters from bird of death... the catharsis of writing them has moved to this new story. my old projects just feel like early drafts of this new one but wearing different clothes. they are all born of the same train of thought.

then theres the matter of my fancomics. children of decay is so early on and undercooked that i barely have anything to say about it except that i still love the idea of having a warriors comic, but man i am just not invested in it the way i am with bird of death. (also the fact their titles are so similar... feels silly lol).

my moomin fancomics are a whole other matter... im not the writer for them, and theres still a ton of content that i wanted to cover. im still only in the first chapter of blackthorn tree, and i wanted to adapt 4 more fics afterwards. they are stories that i love, and which continue to be very dear to me, but the inspiration that gave me is, again, now being channeled into my newest project. i guess that makes sense, given that my protagonist was originally made to be a moomin oc. ive also felt increasingly disconnected from the moomin fandom, not because i like the series itself any less, but the fandom landscape is just very different from what it was. another factor is that i did actually have the rest of chapter 1 almost finished, but i lost all those files when my old ipad got fried and this really bummed me out, just a further discouragement.

putting all these things on the backburner feels bad. i dont like saying that i dont know when or even if i will come back to certain projects. i know lots of people enjoyed what i was making, especially venturing and the moomin comics. but i just cant find it in myself to commit to them again now that this new project has pretty much overtaken me, and i dont know if that commitment will ever come back. this isnt to say that i am putting an end to any of them or that im quitting them. just that they are not the thing i am committed to, and i am putting them into uncertain limbo. it feels smarter to concentrate my energy on a project i am much more devoted to now, which is very developed, and which i am making alongside other people who are also very devoted to the greater project.

if u got this far thanks for reading, and thanks to all those who've supported me over the years in my creative endeavors

[lionheart-giddings]

I'm sorry, but ever since you revealed that you're replaying corpse party for the season, I have got to send you an ask about it cause I've ever met anyone else irl who has actually played the game too fgdjdkdhdjd

Which version are you playing? The 2016 steam release with all the og rpg maker art and the bonus episodes? The 2010 psp release with the updated art but issue of not being able to 100% the name tags because of the 'what moron goes in to investigate the women's washroom when a demonic school dimension is currently is the process of collapsing?!' bug? The 3ds version with the updated art AND bonus episodes AND lack of name tag bug?

Have you ever watched the ova anime series as bloody and graphic as it is? What about the manga? Have you read that? Who's your fav character? Least fav? Favourite chapter? Fav song? Did you ever play the other games in the series or only the first (and the best let's be real)?

(I'm sorry for all the questions btw. I was hyper obsessed with this series like 8 years ago and it still clearly holds a special place in my heart fhdjdkdjdhd so as an apology here's a pic of two very gay girls that live on my shelf)

AHHHHH IM SO HAPPY YOU ASKED ABT THIS

its so nice that someone else i know has played it!!!

as for which one I'm playing, it's the 2021 rerelease!

i never actually got to play the og game growing up because i never had a pc

so i was stuck watching playthroughs for the longest time </3

i honestly cannot remember which version it was that i grew up watching. it was in the early 2010s, so it was probably the psp version! and those glitches aajhdhrjsjsjaj. it sounds so frustrating!! i had no idea they were bugged like that

corpse party has a special place in my heart because i started off roleplaying it by rping in the comment section of youtube vids as ayumi 😭

as for the anime series i did end up watching it! definitely younger than i should have been doing so but i liked it!! except i was really bummed about how it had the bad end if i remember correctly?? i was(still am) a hardcore ayushiki shipper and was so sad they did yoshiki like that </3

and i have actually read the manga! or at least part of it. i just have the first volume but really wanna get the rest. i just got so caught up in dorohedoro that i ended up splurging on all the books for that instead.

ayumi hands down is my fave. i know shes a motherfucker and fucked everything up, but thats honestly why i like her. i also just love that shes a horror aficionado but is by far the biggest pussy out of everyone. her duality <3

as for least fave itd have to be morishige. he's just such a fucking creep and the studious anime boy act is annoying af.

ill have to get back to you on fave chapter because my memory is really rusty and ive only made it back up to chap 4!

same goes for song. im also just the kinda person who doesnt really recognize soundtracks that well 😭

i do remember watching a lot of visual novel gameplay and book of shadows, but i do not remember anything about them because it was so fucking long ago!

AND PLEASE DONT FEELSORRY FOR BEING EXCITED ABOUT THIS IM GENUINELY HAPPY TO HAVE FOUND SOMEONE THIS EXCITED ABOUT IT!!

AND YOU SEIKO AND NAOMI FIGS ARE ADORABLE they should have been end game,,

[kuro4thegays]

HELLO SWEETHEART HOW R U TODAY? haha im hypersensitive because yuck last night i didn’t sleep at all, stayed up till 7am to edit/fix my newest update. i was too depressed in may and whole month i didn’t post or touch wattpad. i was surprised that it actually took me only 2 nights to finish my planned writing. i tend to write between 1k-2k words for 1 chapter because i do long series. only prob is do i have the mood for creative ideas or not. it needs to match my vibe of that fiction.

oh and tbh i crave for smut but i rarely write them (mostly avoid them intentionally) because it hurts my back (whole body). writing smut is a bigger form of art and yeh i usually enjoy eating up than cooking. 1 smut chapter tends to be somewhere between 3-6k words so... i... i mean... 😓 sorry for my readers. tbh i was sooo happy that they all greeted me when i came back after disappearing for a month without any warning 💀 (i feel so bad but at least i survived and served them hehe). 🤓💖✨ lucky and grateful to say that they love the newest chapter so much. they said i did so well (im so proud of myself and them 👽🚀 literally wrote that in 2 nights wtf).

sorry honey i talked too much again. just im very happy today ✨ u can totally tell cuz i usually do not use so many icons hehe. expressing love!! anyway i gain courage and support and yeh most importantly the mood from you after sending in the latest ask (i went to wattpad right after that ask to note down my ideas then fucking went feral with speed running) hope you’ll receive the same energy and have some good free time to write your lovely words down! writing and imagining is my way to relax/run away from reality/save myself so i usually use it as method to calm my unstable mental health hehe. wish you a great day/night honey. ily 🐰

That actually so cool for you. I can definitely relate to the speedrunning part because since I started this blog I had to do it an embarrassing amount of times. It's not my fault that Alhaitham was born so close to Valentine's day. Sadly all nighters aren't possible for me yet, but as soon as this shit is over I'm becoming a nocturnal creature.

And yeah, smut is hard to write. My biggest thing is that I'm scared of getting repetitive, like how many ways is there to describe a hole? I was actually planning to ask if I was becoming too repetitive.

I've already told you this, but I really don't think you need to worry about your audience. Like, if someone like me who disappears for a month after dropping each work can sustain decent following I don't think that you're in any trouble. But I'm really happy your readers like it. You should be proud of yourself.

I love reading your rambles, please don't stop sending them. It warms up my heart whenever I see you in my inbox it's genuinely insane. I'm glad my writing is having a similar effect on you. Coping with life has been becoming harder with each day, so many things going on at the same time, you know? If my presence means anything to you then I'm content with this blog.

[makahimetenshi]

Processing and Healing - Paladin Danse x Sole Survivor Fallout 4 Fanfic

This is the 12 part of a series of fics im writing lately, the order will be:

Falling or not?

Danse cuenta de algo

May I use your shower?

Volver a tener algo

Addicted to Chems

Fooling around together

Sleeping for nightmares

Traumas at the Commonwealth

Being awake

I like being this close

Have you ever had sexual relations with any species considered non human?

Processing and Healing

If you are very very very delighted with one fic and want a continuation I didn’t write or post you can donate me at least $5 bucks, most of this fics have next chapters I don’t finish because lack of motivation but hey a $5 is a $5, I see a few reviews and coments that fics that are abandoned months laters receive coments of wanting to know what happends next. Here it is, I finished my handling with you all, enjoy the fic

Nate sometimes had great ideas.

This time it wasnt the case, not really.

The commonwealth was a very humid place, humid and cold on the winter, the fog penetrating into every hole of your clothes to bathe your spine and make you catch a cold that may put you in bed for at least 3 weeks, fog that will last for days before actually spreading a bit leaving a tiny ity sunshine appear into the clouds. But in the summers...gosh it was nasty, hot and humid as fuck, makes you wonder where all that cold goes away when the season changes, for Nate it was nothing like when he moved to that neighberhood 210 years ago, nono, it was another type of humidity, sticky and slimy into the skin making his clothes attach to every fold of his body, heavy enought to make his hair go down and loose its form, compressing every tiny hair against his forehead giving the impression that he didnt bathe at all, loosing all his shine and making his freeze go crazy up, it was awful.

Danse understand his suffering, but not so much really, sure there wasnt as much fog and rain in DC but that place was very humid too with the proximity to the sea. At least it wasnt that big of deal for him, but higiene was a very different value between Nate and any born wastelander, he suffered from it a lot, like, really a lot, something that itched him in the core for real, which was strange to see, usually most of the people just live with it because there no other alternative and complain about it will not change the weather but…

In the hot days, the people of Sanctuary will bathe on the river that boarders the neigberhood,  Danse will bath to refresh with the people, but Nate doesnt, claiming that he isnt interested in bathing in radiated water without a real reason, that unlike Danse, he will get cancer if he bathes there.

And it was true, Danse will never have cancer, because he is a synth.

All wastelanders are born with somekind of advanced cancer, everybody tells the general that, that he shouldnt worry about it, he is going to die anyway from sometype of leukemia, its a thing of attitude if it kills you first a bullet on the head or a degenerative desease.

But Nate isnt a wastelander, he is different, and for some reason the sole mention of cancer ruins his day for good, always, no matter who says it.

Of course Danse knows why. It was a long battle for both, and so many people more.

So when the general wake up at 6am with his neck and balls already wet and burning like he didnt fucking had a shower at night yesterday, he dress up and prepared breakfast for both men, waiting for Danse to wake up. Having a synth boyfriend wasnt that bad actually, in fact, a robo boyfriend was a big update, right now while he heatens the premade pancakes  Danse sensors must be waking his systems telling him that the body that was emitting heat next to him for the last 6 hours of sleep wasnt in the bed anymore at his side, what before his blind betrayal was good survival skills inside the brotherhood or sharp perception...both understand now that its programming, and while it makes Danse sick to the stomach to think about it, Nate can only see the benefits, specially for survival.

It wasnt that bad.

Just like he thought in no time Danse was walking to the kitchen looking for him.

-Morning -said the ex paladin sitting on the table, much more easeful now he find where Nate was, even knowing the man since a few years it was always a jumpscare waking up and not see him in his side of the bed.

-I have an idea today -said Nate- its something i wanted to show you since a long time, i suppose you are ready

Usually this things werent good

-Do you think is smart to eat breakfast first then? -Danse can still feel disgust and his stomach stirring despite rationalizing a lot of things about his synth body this last times, horrors are still horrors after all, synth or not.

-Yeah dont worry about it  -said Nate leaving his plate on the table -its not going to bother you as much it should bother me -the ex paladin raise his eyebrow at him- its going to be fine

It was funny because the general will not bathe in the river but wont protect at all from the sun, going out the house in this hot climate with hawaiian shirts, shorts and sandals, really walking around like there was no danger, even Danse was surprised that he didnt want to carry any kind of weapon but they where walking a very linear path, easy, from the house to the...oh no...not that place.

-Nate -Danse called- where are we going? -the synth was also walking in sandals and shorts, kinda using Nate wardrobe  this hot days.

-Just wait until we arrive there-the general had under his arm two foldable chairs and a bag with four beers

-I know where the fuck are we going but why? what do you wanna do there? -it wasnt an easy walk with this temperatures tho. The synth was sweating a lot and that always make him anxious and irritable.

-Like i said theres something i want to show you -why the man wasnt meeting his gaze? he was avoiding it.

-Nate i…

And then the general stop in his place, Danse behind him surprised, he took a big breath and then smile to ease him.

-Just follow me okay? -he said  clicking the beers to make the glass sing playfully.

Danse shut his mouth and swallow saliva down the throath, willing to cooperate and just follow him down to the vault 111. Always funny how from the really small neightberhood of Sanctuary you have to go up a little hill and then go down the elevator to enter into the subterranean vault.

Vault 111 was Nate vault, entirely, literally, all his and no one else for everything he wished and wanted to. The man will expend entire noons trapped down here without anyone  company despite actually 3 years passing since...well since he was decryogenized here on purpose, time for Nate passed more slowly on his grief.

Not sure if it was the darkness, the underground climate or the systems of the vault still working to make suitable enviroments for people to survive inside but once they were down everything feelt so refreshing in comparison with the hell up there, and the sun, specially the sun, Danse never liked coming down here that much but right now it feeled just right to be scaping that torture of UV lights... -Gosh my skin its burning and we walked only 5 minutes

-Look at that -pointed Nate at a gun behind a closed crate, for his habilities that lock seems too easy to open, makes the synth wonder why it is still behind that bars- Thats the Cryolator, If this hell continues on earth I'm going to use it to make everyone cold margaritas with ice cubes.

-Never used it? -ask Danse looking at the flamer that shoots ice in detail.

-Just read the logs about it here on the terminals, apparently theres no ammo once you run out so im saving it for an special occasion, thinking very seriously to use it on my balls if we keep like this- Danse rolled his eyes, nah he didnt meant it, Nate was too stingy to use something that couldnt be replaced easy, mostly he will save it forever or try to find a replacement before using the actual thing

They walk, and every step foward the place felt more...cold... cool of course, refreshing after the horrible days they had up in the surface but it was getting like cold not cool slowly, like chilling in your bones really bad, the temperature was really really low, even small breezes of cold air where visible as they walk until Nate stop in front of a room with cold water on the floor, melted water more specifically, it was humid inside that room but cold humid, really cold humid from the temperature machines and engines around. At first the ex paladin didnt get it until he saw the walls and oh shit he already was in this place once, it was funny how he can never remember details of this cursed placed, everytime feels like the first time he enter to the house of horrors

-Oh nonono, im not going inside, i have principles.

-Relax -said Nate, opening one of the foldable chairs in front of a cryopod in particular- its much better than the surface

-I get it but... -Danse look at the chair and then up at the cryopod, closed but not frozen enought inside to cover the windows and avoid seeing what was inside, water was leaking from it, drop by drop into the ground

. -Nora this is Danse. Danse this is Nora, althought i already presented her to you never did formally -Nate sat open the second chair at his side and then sat on his own chair. Legs open, like it was nothing.

-This is fucked up -said the ex paladin, not wanting to exactly take a seat.

-A bit, it would be worse for my sanity if she was already in a more advanced state of decomposition like really really dead but...-Danse get it, the micro climate inside this room keeping everything cold and humid didnt help for her body to actually die, the conditions to keep her body like the day she was shoot in the head were ideal, and Nate never had the courage to open the cryopod again after taking her ring and promise to find Shaun back- im not in denial, she has a round shiny bullet in the middle of her forehead which makes everything so obvious…

-And you come here to be fresh in front of the body of your dead wife?

-And to talk obviously, manners makes the man -he said finally picking up a beer using the side of the chair to open it.

-Dont you think this is a little fucked up for me...?

-Look buddy, i was straight before knowing you but you cant try to compete with the woman that gave  me a son -the smirk on Nate face tell Danse that this was all a game for him, maybe it was more traumatic for him than it was for the old man, right, after 3 years he should have at least a piece of this events a bit solved, a tiny piece processed

-Well we know how that ended -Danse take a seat unconfortably on his chair, looking at her bloody face.

-Im not letting you talk shit of my dead wife, watch it, that was more my fault than hers -no it wasnt, but Nate will feel culprit forever for what happend. It wasnt the fault of any of them.

-So you come here to spend the noons fresh as a lettuce... -said Danse picking his own beer from the bag- behind the blood and all i can see the appealing

-She would be beautiful even as a ghoul -the way Nate smiled at the cryopod gave Danse a bad chill on his entire spine, of course you would say that if you have an history of fucking ghouls- You are hot and everything but I was so lucky that she turned to see me even just once in life, you may be right now the love of my life but this woman was my other part -Danse smiled uncomfortable, opening his cold beer at the side of the chair- we were so alike and complemented so well on eveything, people that know us often say that we were equals like twins, i often swear to the skies that she somehow had to be my sister

-I can totally see you fucking your female counterpart -its true, if he uses the right corner of his eye he can see a resemblance between the two of them, specially the nose- you are narcisistic enought for that -despite being a six Nate had a really high standar of his image and persona, she was also kinda a six.

-Oh here we are narcisistic the bitches would say -now Nate drank on his beer, smiling, playing, he was just playing, shit talking- Psycologist on the army would also say that

-Well im not a professional and the standars may change in this latelys 210 years but...why? -ok if this wasnt really crushing Nates heart...as traumatic it may be to drink beer next to your dead wife frozen body, it wasnt that bad, he wasnt having a meltdown yet, they were just chatting, casually next to a dead body of someone really important, but most because it was cool.

-Bitches started to get on my nerves once a recording of me and a fellow mate got leaked, yes, he shoot the unarmed prisioner from behind, big deal, but us laughting at his body was their interpretation, not a fact -a cold shiver ran across Danse spine, sometimes Nate talked like a raider.

-Were you really laughting?

-How i am supposed to know? We done stuff in the war, i cant exactly recognize myself in everyrecording i am on a power armor, that could be anyone! -then the general make silence, an actual long silence while his face looks really deep into thinking- the execution was my buddy, that was true

-Oh my gosh you are a war criminal -said Danse picking up his chair and moving it 10cm to the left, laughting a bit of how hilarious the situation was.

-You? A wastelander? Judging me? -Nate appeared to be a bit offended while drinking on his beer- i shoot thoose bullets in the name of freedom, you all cut necks to prepare breakfast!

-I also shoot unarmed wastelanders, but i did it under the orders of the brotherhood -now Danse drank- you and the Enclave are this close -he made a sing with two of his fingers barely closing, leaving a tiny space in the air- to be in the same side

-You feeling funny? I can send your ass up to the surface

-Did that thing about marrying a lawyer come before or after she found out about the war crimes?

Well at least Danse knows that Nate is healing the subject of his dead wife little by little, one small talk at a time, burrying it slowly in the depts of vault 111 where everything started after the bombs dropped.

Next time he wants to refresh and cool his balls from the heat up in the surface he is going to ask to be in another room tho, cant compete with the woman that gave him a son after all.

[hisunshiine]

—whims & inconsistencies | 1

→ posted: june 24, 2022

→ pairing: kim seokjin x poc!reader

→ genre/au: victorian era!au, pride&prejudice vibes, angst!!!, smut, fluff

→ chapter rating: PG-13

→ wordcount: 4.8k words

→ chapter warnings: mentions of misogyny, reader is an orphan, mentions of parents passing away, creepy old men, a lot of vulgar things implied, im sorry but maknae line are the villains :(  and this is just the start.

→ credits: @hobeemin​ for the most amazing banner idea. @peachiilovesot7​ you are the best beta reader i could ever ask for. thank you to @moonleeai​​, @heathfritiiiary, @a_bit_jess for the feedback on the prologue! I think it really helped make a difference. 

→ an: i created a map! you can click the link below to see the city and help build the setting in your head the way that i see it! Updates will be weekly! If you would like to be on a tag list, please reply to this chapter or send an ask!

series masterlist   map of Sonyeondan

The Jung residence is a large house located at the end of a row of other large houses in the Highgate district. Across the street, instead of another row of similar houses, is a large brick wall that outlines the town. Beyond the wall are large trees leading into a forest. 

The home, two-stories, with a library, observatory, and a large hall for banquets and balls, is clearly the home of a well to do family. Hoseok’s father holds a well paying, top position with the local private school, overseeing the curriculum for the students, explaining the wealth of the dwelling. They greet you warmly, having just seen you at your graduation a month earlier, and Jiwoo shows you upstairs to your room while Namjoon and Hoseok catch up in the library.

Placing your violin case on your bed, you take in the spacious bedroom, curtains pulled open to show the afternoon sun spilling across the desk across from the window. An armoire to your left and a vanity to your right, there is ample space for you to get ready for each day, as well as practice each night. 

Jiwoo pulls you from your thoughts.

“I am so excited that you are here now! I was able to talk my parents into postponing my debut a year so that we could have a joint one. Thought it would help reduce the pressure for you, and obviously it will mean ours will be the biggest and best party of the season.”

“Thanks, Jiwoo, I appreciate sharing the limelight. I can’t say I’m exactly happy for the end of my freedom,” you frown, opening the armoire and making note of what you will store in it.

“I don’t think being married will be so bad…my parents seem happy. Yours did too.”

The memory of your parents' marriage warms your heart a bit, reminding you that it was perfectly realistic to find a good suitor. You had some other worries though. Some that Jiwoo wouldn’t necessarily relate to.

“I know that it’s not terrible. I actually look forward to the thought of spending my life with someone who completes me, the way my father did my mother and vice versa. But my father was a foreigner, and I look…well, foreign.” 

You glance at your reflection in the vanity, your unruly curls coming loose to frame your tan skin after the humidity latched onto it during the carriage ride. Your eyes, larger than was average in this monolithic country, are at least the same color as others: a warm coffee with a splash of cream that you were told drew people in on a cold day. Your frame, petite but curvier than typical, stands out, but you hope in a good way. You rather like how you look, but when you had attended boarding school you received your fair share of bullying for features that are out of your control. 

“Please, YN, you are gorgeous! I wish my hair could curl the way yours does,” Jiwoo brushes a flyaway back to tuck behind your ear as she continues. “And your skin is so pretty, like my favorite caramel candies that we used to hide in our pillows and eat after we were supposed to be asleep.” You laugh at the memory.

“What’s so funny?” Hoseok asks from the doorway, Namjoon following him in with your luggage and boston bag.

“Oh, just telling YN how jealous I am that she will steal all of the best suitors during our debut ball with her luscious curls, beautiful skin, and hips—”

“Okay!” You interrupt, but that interruption is interrupted by Hoseok and Namjoon agreeing with Jiwoo.

“Yeah, already several of my friends have asked when you were debuting. They always see you when you visit on break from school and want to know more about you…”

“Even at school, guys would hang out in the practice room watching her play—”

“They wanted to hear me play!” you defend.

“Yeah, have you ever seen what you look like when you play? A goddess among us mere mortals, and there were only five women in the school! And Sunmi did not have a crowd when she played the flute.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab your Boston bag and begin to unpack it, pulling out a folded metal contraption that opens into a music stand for your compositions. Namjoon continues talking about you, making up stories, you’re sure.

“I actually don’t know if I want her to meet my brothers. She might decide she doesn’t want to be friends with me anymore, or worse, she could end up marrying one of them.”

Ignoring him, you pull out the leather bound folder that holds the music sheets, hastily tucked away before boarding the train so that now loose papers with Yoongi’s cramped scrawl and Namjoon’s larger swirls flutter to the ground. 

Jiwoo picks up the fallen sheets and hands them to you, and you place them on the stand. 

“Are you about to practice right now? You just got off the train!”

“You can’t be a virtuoso violinist if you don’t practice!”

“At least have a light lunch first. Mother and father have prepared a small spread for us to enjoy.”

You allow Jiwoo to drag you away from your violin, case unopened on your bed and music sheets still against the stand.

Getting ready for the first party of the season was a whirlwind of a time. Jiwoo’s personal maids brought in a friend to work on your makeup and hair at her request. She had asked for two, but they had struggled to find someone who had any experience working with someone…foreign-looking. Your maid for the evening, Eunwoo, had previously worked in a different part of the country with a family that was similar to yours. 

She’s quiet, but efficient; her hands move swiftly to section your wet curls and place several plaits that end halfway across your scalp and are pulled into hair ties. She saturates the bottom half of your hair, letting it remain loose as she teases a few curls to frame your face. Pretty, sheer lilac ribbons are the finishing touch as she winds them to cover the ties and pins them in place. 

She turns your chair away from the mirror, and sets off to doll your face up and you relax as she moisturizes your skin before applying the various makeup palettes to your skin. 

Walking arm in arm with Jiwoo, Hoseok following the two of you with his cheerful smile and noises he doesn’t even realize he’s making as he provides a soundtrack to your entrance, is terrifying. You had wanted to arrive earlier, but missing an extra set of hands made it difficult to dress you in the soft purple gown you chose for Nayeon’s debutante ball. 

It fit your frame just so, and the criss-crossing satin strings along the back made it slightly hard to breathe with how tight they were laced. Luckily your legs had more freedom to move, since the dress cascades down to the floor, the silkiness of the material shimmering in the light with every step like a light violet waterfall.

Of course, you enter just as the music quiets, with dancers swapping on and off the dancefloor as the musicians turn the pages to a new song, and the door closes loudly behind you as you appear in the view of all of the guests. 

Heads turn to face you, and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, a tight smile overtaking your lips as you walk carefully down the few steps into the large parlor. Hoseok waves to a few friends and disappears into the crowd; you notice Namjoon in the group Hoseok is heading towards and you want to follow him, but Jiwoo steers you towards the hosts to greet them and tie a dance card around your wrist. 

It’s easy to escape from Jiwoo once she is distracted by making pleasantries with Nayeon and her parents, but you entered a side hallway that is mostly abandoned as other party goers walk past you to go out the doors you just entered. Taking light steps in your kitten heeled shoes, you walk to the end of the hallway and see an opening back into the parlor. There’s a wooden table that is home to the largest bouquet of wildflowers, but nothing else blocks you from making your way to your giant of a best friend and cheerful housemate.

Stepping around the intricately carved circular table in the entryway, you attempt once again to head into the safety of your male friends. You are stopped, however, by a large man. His suit is a puke green color, and his teeth are crooked and yellowing as he leers down at you, the strong odor of tobacco emanating from his person. 

“Ah, you must be the ward the Jung’s have taken in. I’m Park Jinyoung. You’ve probably heard of me. Or at least of my businesses. Will you allow me to sign your dance card? I saw you as soon as you made your entrance, and I hear that you're musically inclined…”

“Oh, um,” you startle at his abrupt introduction; the way he jumps around in his topics is dizzying. “Yes, I’m YN. And I’ve just moved here recently and haven’t had a chance to explore the area. I play the violin, so I practice several hours a day.”

“Yes, yes, girl, I know, I told you I heard you were musically inclined. Now, about your dance card, have you got spots left? I can fill it up for you if you want, and we can get to know one another better.”

You don’t like the way that his eyes stare at your chest as he talks. The sweetheart bust of your dress does a great job at accentuating your cleavage, but you had hoped to catch the eye of someone who was closer to your age, or at least could hide his boner a bit better!

“Darling, there you are!”

A friendly voice draws your attention from Park Jinyoung, and you feel like you can’t breathe. The most handsome man you have ever set your sight on is standing behind you, and he just called you darling?!

“You were looking for me?” You ask, unsure of his intent.

“Of course I was! You were supposed to wait for me by the other entryway, you must have gotten lost on your way back from the bathroom.”

“You are seeing this woman?”

“She is certainly in my sights right now.”

“I see. I was under the impression that she had not yet been approached by any suitors.”

Your head whips back and forth as you follow the conversation happening about you, but not including you. So you decide to join in, standing a bit taller.

“I haven’t been approached by any suitors. I have just met this man tonight, much like I have just met you, Mr. Park.”

The handsome man widens his eyes at you, as if signaling some secret message that you don’t comprehend, and Mr. Park smiles at you before turning towards the man.

“But you called her ‘darling’, that’s not a term of endearment one uses so…loosely, Kim Seokjin, unless you are acquainted in a rather unseemly way.”

You blink furiously at the suggestion that you have loose morals and were hiding in the hallway with this Kim Seokjin to be promiscuous. Seokjin steps into Jinyoung’s space, and you step back from the way the tension feels dangerous. 

“It is but a way to address someone when you can’t remember their name, Mr. Park. Now let us all return to the parlor, lest people begin to think we are back here fighting over a woman. And I would remind you to bite your tongue when speaking of such matters in the presence of a lady.”

Butterflies fill your stomach at the way Seokjin defends your honor; he is younger than Park Jinyoung by many years, but his manner of speaking and the way he carries himself commands respect even above the elder in the room. 

“Out of respect for your father, I will not smack that smart mouth like you deserve for speaking to me in such a way, but make it a habit and I will not hesitate, no matter the company we are in.”

Park Jinyoung turns on his heel and walks back into the parlor, leaving you alone with Seokjin.

“I’m sorry. I tried to save you from him, but he turned it into something it wasn’t. I promise if anyone says anything to try and compromise your honor, I will defend it. I’m Kim Seokjin, by the way.”

“YN…Thank you for standing up for me. He wanted to fill up my entire dance card, and I was just thinking of how I would escape it, when you appeared. So thanks again. I should go find my friends before we get caught back here alone.”

Seokjin reaches for your arm, stilling your movement from walking away. 

“If I could, I would love to sign your dance card. If there is still space of course.” He smirks, and you can only nod as you extend your arm so he can scribble his name onto the last line. 

“I’ll find you before the last song plays.”

You blink, and he’s gone, back into the crowd. Leaning onto the wall, you take several deep breaths. Get it together, girl! You think to yourself. You never get weak over a man, let’s not start now…now matter how beautiful his face is! Or how soft his lips look…

“Oh thank the gods, I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Jiwoo appears in the hallway, moving quickly to your side. “It’s time to get some names on your dance card and spend the night being twirled around the room by handsome men!”

Jiwoo has a point, and there is already one handsome man penciled at the bottom of the list, saving the best for last.

There are lights glittering off of the chandeliers, sending dancing beams of rainbow light scattering across the walls. Your hair, bouncing as you twirl in the arms of one of the many suitors you have been dancing with tonight, is so unlike the other girls dancing in the room. You feel self-conscious, but you catch Seokjin’s gaze from where he stands across the room, and you no longer care. He smiles at you, as if there is just a secret the two of you share, and as the song playing ends, he takes a rather large gulp from his drink and sets it down, marching across the dancefloor to you. 

“May I have this dance?”

You step towards him, curtsying briefly as you take your place in front of him and as the pianoforte and violins start to play, you raise your arms to his broad shoulders and his hands go to your waist. The hold is modest, exactly like you have practiced with friends and dance tutors, but his touch sets you alight. His shoulders under your hands heat your gloves, almost burning at the touch, but the goosebumps rising across your skin would make anyone think a cold flame spread through your veins.

You step forward as he steps back, movements in sync to the notes that play around you. The eye contact as his fingers draw you ever so closer to him causes you to shiver, and the smile on his lips is soft as he whispers, “are you cold, darling?” The term of endearment used is a reminder of how he saved you earlier. 

“No, Mr. Kim. I am quite content.”

He spins you around, stepping apart before leading you back in closer than before as you spin across the dancefloor, weaving around the other dancers. 

“I must say that makes me quite happy to hear that you are content in my arms.”

You can feel your cheeks warm under his twinkling gaze, and butterflies flutter when he winks at you. You remain in a state of bliss the rest of the song, and you are breathless once the song ends. 

“I am quite parched, do you mind if we step off to get something to drink?” you ask, secretly needing to step away so that you may gather yourself after putting some space between your bodies. 

“Yes, actually I see my brothers over by the refreshments, and I must remind the youngest one to behave himself accordingly.”

The two of you walk along the edge of the ballroom, making your way towards some familiar faces. Hoseok is standing with Namjoon, and a few other younger men are there as well, laughing loudly at a joke you missed.

“YN! Enjoying yourself?”

“Quite! It is a delightful ball, the first of many this season I presume, that I will enjoy myself at.”

“Namjoon, do you always speak so comfortably with women? We send you away to a music conservatory and you come back without any sense of respect?”

You laugh along with Namjoon at Seokjin’s scandalized expression.

“Oh, me and Namjoon are not strangers, Seokjin. This is one of my dearest friends from said music conservatory.”

“Ah, it seems you and my brother are also on close terms, YN, if you are already calling him Seokjin.”

You gasp, gloved hand covering your mouth as you realize. Kim Namjoon is the younger brother of Kim Seokjin. Namjoon’s eyes dance with humor at your realization, and he can no longer hold back his laughter when he makes eye contact with Hoseok. The laughter catches the attention of the other three men, who step closer to your circle of friends.

“Whatever is so funny, Joon?” The owner of the voice is tall, lean, and gorgeous. His hair falls around his face in a mess of waves, and despite his beauty, there is a coldness about him.

“Oh, Taehyung-ah, this is YN. She is one of the friends I graduated with and who I traveled home on the train with. She has just realized she danced around the room with our dearest elder brother.”

Our dearest elder brother. This man must be the younger brother of your best friend. Kim Taehyung. You have heard a little about Namjoon’s brothers, but not enough to realize you are surrounded by them. 

“Ah, well, YN, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.” Taehyung extends his hand to you, and to be polite, you place your hand in his as he draws his lips to the back of your hand, a chaste kiss to the gloved skin. “We have heard so much about you from our dear Joonie-hyung.”

“Hopefully all good things!” You hate the way your voice sounds, trying not to feel nervous, but there is something about the youngest brother that is off-putting to you. His two friends flank him, both with beautiful smiles that don’t quite reach their eyes. Of the two, the taller one's eyes rake across your body in a way that makes you feel naked, and the shorter one can’t seem to find your eyes amidst your chest as he introduces himself.

“I’m Park Jimin, it is nice to make your acquaintance.”

You curtsy, if only to bring your face into his line of sight, and he smiles cheekily at you.

“Jeon Jungkook. You look stunning in that color.” His eyes continue to trace your figure, and when he finally makes eye contact, he is not the least bit embarrassed at being caught gawking at your figure. You feel that he quite enjoys knowing you know he was undressing you in a full room. The air is thick with uneasiness, and you are ready to relieve yourself of their presence. 

“Well then, it was very nice to meet you all, Kim Taehyung, Park Jimin, and Jeon Jungkook. If you will excuse me, I’m going to grab a drink and see if Jiwoo is anywhere nearby.”

“I’ll come with you.” Seokjin steps behind you, following as you retreat from their end of the table and towards the refreshments at the other end, his hand on the small of your back guiding you through the crowd.

“Sorry about my brother, Taehyungie is a bit…much.”

“Oh, no worries, I was delighted to finally put a face to the men Namjoon speaks about all of the time. I’m kind of embarrassed that I did not realize that you are his older brother; you weren’t at his graduation ceremony.”

“Oh, yes, we had a family emergency come up, but now Namjoon is home, so we have plenty of time to celebrate his accomplishments.”

“An emergency? Namjoon didn’t mention anything…is everything alright now?”

“As all right as it can be, no need to worry. Oh, which drink would you like?” Seokjin expertly changes the topic away from his home life, but you are too parched to continue to needle. Pointing at the crystal bowl full of a light pink liquid, you accept the small cup he passes to you filled halfway with drink. 

He turns away from the table once he’s poured his own cup with the salmon–colored drink, and you both gulp them down. The eye contact between you two causes both of you to laugh into your cups, Seokjin’s eyes twinkling with mischief as you turn away quickly to avoid spitting out your drink. Most unladylike behavior, but you have a feeling Seokjin would not care about such frivolous societal rules. 

The next couple of hours are spent tucked into the corner, still visible to everyone, but in your own world; just you and Seokjin talking about everything and nothing. You haven’t felt a connection like this with anyone before, and the butterflies in your stomach let you know this is more than how you feel about Namjoon and Yoongi. No, what you are feeling towards Seokjin is anything but platonic companionship. 

You watch the way his lips form words, the full pout alluring without him trying, and when he licks his lips, you fan your face with a gloved hand, pretending that the room is starting to feel stuffy. Like the gentleman he is, Seokjin asks if you would like to step outside to get some air. You nod, and he places his hand gently on your lower back, a shockwave of warmth traveling down your spine. You want to feel more of his touch on your body, not covered by clothes, and you feel the burn of your cheeks as he leads you towards Jiwoo.

“Jiwoo noona, can you please go with YN outside for some air? The stuffiness of the room has seemed to get to her, and she looks a bit flushed.”

Seokjin looks at you, but you turn your face away shyly, afraid he’ll realize it’s not the room, but his aura that has you so heated. Jiwoo escorts you to the back garden, and you sit on a bench with her while she looks at you knowingly. Under her scrutiny, you decide to come clean.

“Yes, I think the eldest Kim brother is rather…handsome.”

“Well, from the looks of it, he thinks you are quite the beauty as well. I have never seen him spend so much time talking to a woman at a party, let alone appearing to enjoy it. He’s usually with his friends…I guess he’s stepping into his role more now.”

Your eyebrows furrow, a confused look taking over your face. Jiwoo leans in conspiratorial-like as she begins to share.

“Seokjin is the eldest of the Kim family. Their father recently had inflammation of the heart of some sort, and he has been bed ridden since. The family missed Namjoon’s graduation because of it. Seokjin will take over as the head of the family if something happens to their father, but he hasn’t had to really face that thought until now.” Jiwoo shakes her head despondently. “Their father is really nice, and I always enjoyed when their family would come over for dinner. My mother used to host a sewing club with theirs and a few other women inside, and I can’t imagine how she would fair if something were to happen. I mean, Seokjin is super smart, so I am sure the family will be okay, but I can’t imagine what it would be like to be a widow.”

You nod slowly, taking in all of the information. This must be the emergency that Seokjin mentioned in passing. You wonder to yourself about his intentions tonight, spending so much time—publicly—with you, during your debuting season. Is he looking for a wife? Could you be a wife who sits in sewing clubs? Did you want to be? The two of you stand, ready to head back inside, when Jiwoo lets out a sigh and pulls you from your thoughts as the three younger men from earlier approach the two of you. 

“Jiwoo, how lovely to see you again.” 

The two friends step towards Jiwoo, flanking either side of her as they enter into her space. You can see how uncomfortable it is for her as they squeeze their bodies between the two of you, Jungkook separating her from you as Taehyung approaches your other side.  

“Well, my brothers sure have a type. One befriends you at school and the other can’t take his eyes off you since you’ve met tonight.” Taehyung leans down, voice lowering as he brings his breath to your ear. “You’ve got all three of the Kim brother’s attention, but I’d love to have a sample before my eldest brother does.”

A gasp is pulled from your throat at the lewd idea he propositions you with, and you feel the same way you did when Mr. Park had cornered you earlier: slimy.

“I am not anyone’s plaything to be sampled.” Your voice is curt, slicing through the sleaze of his implications.

“But you look like so much fun to play with, YN. I promise I won’t tell Seokjinnie hyung if I get to see under those skirts of yours before he does.”

You step back, appalled that Taehyung could speak to you so vulgarly and also be related to one of your best friends and your savior from earlier in the night. It was as if the latter two were cut from a different cloth. Maybe he was a different material altogether. 

The step you took brought your backside into Jungkook, who turns away from whatever lewd words he and Jimin are spewing lowly at Jiwoo, and it is enough for you to reach for her and make your escape. 

Instead of returning to the party, you and Jiwoo silently agree it is best for the two of you to leave, bypassing the opening to return to the main floor and instead turning to exit the house and swiftly walk to the row of carriages lining the street. The Jung’s footman jumps down from where he’s sat, patiently awaiting your return. You remember after Jiwoo has climbed in that Hoseok rode with you to the party.

“Should I go grab Hoseok?”

“Damn it,” Jiwoo intones, and hearing her curse lightens the mood a tiny bit. 

“I’ll be quick and I won’t stop for anyone, and I won’t walk out unless Hoseok or Joonie is accompanying me.” 

Jiwoo nods and you retrace your steps, keeping your head down so that no one tries to speak to you in your haste. Luckily, Hoseok is in plain sight, standing with Seokjin near the refreshments table.

“Hoseok, Jiwoo and I are ready to go, as it is getting quite late. She’s already in the carriage.”

“Late?”

The look you give him trumps his incredulous one, as the party has thinned out and despite time being seemingly halted, it is nearing midnight. He glances around the room, eyes observing the large clock with both hands pointing towards the upper half of the circle.

“Yes, you’re right of course. Seokjin hyung, I must bid you farewell and get these ladies home. Can you escort YN to the carriage? I’m going to visit the lavatory before I join them.”

“Of course, it’s no issue to see her safely.”

Proffering his arm, you place yours atop his and walk with Seokjin out of the house. As the two of you approach the carriage, he slows his gait, turning slightly to you.

“Could I, perhaps,” he starts, voice a little higher than earlier, “call on you at the Jung’s residence?”

You’re sure that if there were no lamps to dimly light the street for the partygoers that your smile would have lit the street up as if it was daylight. Seokjin is sure that were it daylight, you would have seen the way his ears are a bright red as he waits for your reply.

“I would love that.” 

series masterlist —thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed this chapter! see you next week!!

© hisunshiine 2022. All rights reserved. 

[aomineavenue]

Homesick (Miya Atsumu x f!Reader) | 006. dinner disaster

Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Updates: irregular.

Genre: Angst, ANGST I LOVE ANGST, a lil bit of fluff here and there.

Warnings: Language, etc. (Will be mentioned once posted because I don’t want spoilers huehue)

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters except for the reader and my ideas. I do not claim any images used for content in this fic, everything goes out to their respective creators unless it is mentioned that it is mine.

Status: ongoing. | series masterlist

↩ confessions | dinner disaster | realizations  ↪

mia’s note(s): 

can you find the easter eggs in here? 

i am sorry, i am not very fond of this chapter lmao i told you guys im bad at writing that isn’t angst man 

i hope you guys enjoy anyway, lemme know what you guys think!! and tell me if you find the easter eggs mwa mwa

You nod eagerly as you shut the menu in your grip, completely ignoring Reiji’s protests from beside you as the rest of the individuals seated around the table either watch in amusement or curiosity. “I believe there is always a three special course meal that changes every day according to the chef, we’d absolutely love that.”

At the sight of Reiji’s features scrunched up in horror, you inwardly squealed in victory. 

Years have flown by, you’re both practically strangers at this point. Yes, strangers. Just two strangers who know every shameful secret, every hidden freckle, and even every fatal flaw in each other. Who were you kidding anyway? Six years have gone by just like that, but you knew it yourself, deep down that you still strongly cared for the man that now stood before you, his eyes the only thing you could focus on, not even the soft chatter of the other guests or the soft instrumental melody produced by the restaurant’s speakers could capture your attention and disrupt your thoughts. Mesmerized, that is what you are. What even. 

It has been six years and to this day, he still completely steals your breath away. 

Not that it should surprise you or anything. Despite everything, how he had hurt you back when you were both 17 and in your second year in senior high school back in 2013, or the hurtful words that spilled from his mouth from the running emotions that day back at the sports complex when the truth revealed itself, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him or even be angry. You’ve thought of this a billion times since you left Hyōgo. You have imagined a billion scenarios, trying your best to prepare yourself because you knew. You knew that it was inevitable to stay hidden, to keep your secret hidden. A part of you always knew you were going to meet him again. Not that your reunion was delightful or anything. It was nowhere near such. No matter how many scenarios you created in your head, it had not been enough for you to prepare for any form of response. 

You hadn’t realized it at first when you had met him on that day because of the emotions running high through your veins, but now, standing in front of him, your eyes drank him up completely. Of course, you notice the differences from six years ago. It wasn’t as if he was going to stay how he had been back then, nor was it difficult to notice the changes from the boy you used to adore. Looking at him now, it was clear as day that he had grown up from the charming boy next door to a breathtaking man that you can’t seem to tear your gaze away. 

As your name rolls off of his tongue, you snap out of your trance, blinking a couple of times. Thankfully, you suppressed your emotions quick enough from allowing the warmth that wanted to creep across your cheeks. God, how embarrassing. Did he notice you were practically devouring him with your eyes? Hopefully not. 

However, despite his handsome features, you are suddenly reminded of the last conversation that the two of you shared and it was enough for you to push your mushy thoughts to the very back of your head. Ah, right. You remembered now, before being distracted by Atsumu’s ridiculously handsome face, you were going to give Asuma and Reiji a good smack. If only you had known of this setup, you would have never agreed. Jumping back to reality, you were about to take a step back, wanting to leave the premises, only to be held back by Reiji, gripping onto your arm to stop you. 

You were cut off from your protests, Reiji moving closer to whisper in your ear with the all too familiar tone he uses on you during arguments. Before he could even finish his sentence, you already knew that the excuses you have in mind were no use. There was no room for negotiations. “Stop being stubborn and sit down. Do this for your kids. It’s not like it’s a date or anything.” 

Grumbling underneath your breath at how much of an ass he was, he only replies with a chuckle as he releases his grip on your arm, neither of you realizing the green-eyed monster’s gaze that followed the whole interaction. The two of your friends took their seats, greeting the rest of the party, while you’re left standing there before Atsumu. As you stood there face to face, you didn’t realize the two occupants around the table sharing hushed whispers amongst each other, berating each other for bringing other people along. Meeting his gaze once more, you give him a small nod, “Atsumu. Shall we then?” 

He nods, his voice cracking slightly because of his nerves, “Yeah.” 

However, as you turn to greet the rest of the party, you feel your shoulders grow tense at the realization of what your two friends did once again. They had occupied seats around the table, leaving the only available seats next to each other for you and Atsumu. If it’s one thing you hated, it was when your friends become the meddling monkeys that they are. 

Not wanting to cause a scene, you inwardly groan and occupy the seat next to Reiji, leaving the seat next to you for Atsumu. In spite of your irritation, you find yourself flashing a half-hearted smile at the three across from you. 

“Hi!” the one in the middle greets you happily with an enormous smile plastered across his face, “I’m Hinata, it’s nice to meet you.” He extends his arm across the table, holding out his hand for you to shake, which you gladly take. 

“Nice to meet you too,” you respond with a nod of your head as you release your grip from his hand, just in time to retrieve the menu that the waiter had passed throughout the group. Flipping it open, you avoid the glances from Bokuto and Osamu, who looked as if they were itching an interaction from you, but because of your irritation, you definitely didn’t want to talk to them just yet, they probably had helped your friends in setting this up. “So Hinata-san, I’m assuming you're Bokuto’s teammate?” you ask before tearing your gaze away from his to examine the menu in your hands. You don’t notice the frown that briefly appeared on Atsumu’s lips. 

“Oh, Hinata’s just fine!” he waves his hand with a laugh, “Yes, I’m Bokuto and Atsumu’s teammate. We actually wanted to bring our friend Sakusa here too, but he said he has an emergency at some hospital.” 

"Hmm…" you hum, letting your eyes scan the menu, thinking you might as well enjoy the food, "Oh, I hope everything is okay with your friend Sakusa and it’s nothing too serious, but now that we're here, might as well enjoy and run Rei's wallet dry. Right, Rei?"

You tilt your head a bit, glancing over at Reiji from the corner of your eye with a sly smirk forming on your lips. Ah, the man could only let out a nervous chuckle, knowing full well what you were planning as he recalls a similar scenario a few months back in the very same restaurant that put a dent to his savings because of the ridiculous price of the meals you had ordered that night. Not tearing your gaze away from your best friend, you call for the waiter's attention, who quickly responds by walking over and pulling out his tiny notepad to jot down your table's order. 

"Hello, I'm Daiki and I'll be your waiter for the night." He greets with a friendly smile, not realizing the awkward atmosphere among the group, "What will we be having?" 

Clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth, you give Reiji an innocent grin before turning your gaze over to the waiter to return his smile with your own, "Hello, Daiki. You see, my friends here aren't really sure what to order, but I told them not to worry since I've been here so many times, so I'll be ordering for everyone!" 

"Excellent, ma'am!" He nods his head, matching your enthusiasm.

You nod eagerly as you shut the menu in your grip, completely ignoring Reiji’s protests from beside you as the rest of the individuals seated around the table either watch in amusement or curiosity. “I believe there is always a three special course meal that changes every day according to the chef, we’d absolutely love that.” 

At the sight of Reiji’s features scrunched up in horror, you inwardly squealed in victory. 

It was going to be a long night.

Mayuzumi Asuma and Suwa Reiji were now considered dead.

To you, at least. And somehow, you knew that, despite them avoiding meeting your gaze alongside with the other three across from you who freely interacted with each other, they themselves knew what they were getting themselves into. They were digging their graves for this stunt they have pulled. 

You’d got to give Reiji credit, though. Despite pushing his buttons by ordering everyone the high priced three course meal, he wasn’t his usually squirmy and irritating self. You had at least expected sharing a heated argument with him after such a display, but instead of giving in, he continued to pursue his plan with the others. 

Oh, they think they were so slick, as if you hadn’t caught on with their little plan. Not a date, they say. It might as well be one, since they’re bluntly ignoring your attempts to converse with them. All was missing was some privacy. At first you hadn’t thought about it when you had tried to share a conversation with Hinata, it was only right for you to get to know someone; you were just being nice. However, before Hinata could respond to your question, Bokuto had dragged him into a conversation about volleyball. You brushed it aside, not thinking anything rude of it, as you knew Bokuto would often speak with anyone out of the blue. It was just how he is. 

You hadn’t even thought about it the second time around when this time; you tried conversing with Osamu, wanting to know about how his business is going so far. Except, the conversation between you and Osamu never happened due to the fact that Asuma had cut you off mid-sentence, engaging the man in a ridiculous conversation about healthy diets. Like, what the heck was that all about? Asuma and healthy diets just don’t sit well with you. Nevertheless, you brushed it aside, shifting your attention to the first course meal of the night that had been placed before you. 

They think they were so smart, trying to pull it off. Ah, but no. You had caught on with their little plan the third time around when you tried to join in Bokuto and Hinata’s conversation. You were instantly shot down by Reiji, shifting the conversation to another topic that only they could understand. 

They were dead men. All of them. 

Placing your chopsticks down, you turn your head towards Reiji’s direction with a false innocent smile curling upon your lips. “Reiji, dear.” 

Ah there it was, catching the nervous bob of his Adam’s apple in this throat with your gaze. "Yeah?"

"I hope you know—” 

Hinata cuts you off by standing up abruptly from his seat, waving frantically towards someone’s direction, “Ushijima-san!” 

You blink before turning your head to look at whoever Hinata was waving to, catching a glimpse of a tall, muscular man nodding towards Hinata’s direction in greeting, a woman trailing close behind him. Not wanting to be rude, you return to your previous position to face Hinata that was seated across from you, “Was that the Ushijima Wakatoshi?” 

Hinata nods as he sits back down, a huge smile on his face. “Yeah, I’m sure you know about him.” 

“I suppose,” you lift your shoulders up in a shrug as you pick up your chopsticks once more, completely forgetting to reprimand Reiji’s actions much to his relief, “I was volleyball manager back then in high school, so I would know a few things, including some players.” 

“Where did you go to school?” Hinata asks, tilting his head a bit as he looks at you curiously. You wonder, briefly, had Atsumu not mentioned you at all since the incident at the sports complex? Weird. 

As you were about to reply, the man seated on your left answers for you. “She went to the same school as me, Shouyou-kun. She was our manager.” 

Hinata stares at you for a second, blinking a couple of times before realization hits him, his eyes widening, “I remember you now! You were that pretty manager!” 

The men around the table chokes and sputters their food, causing you to scrunch up your nose in disgust. Atsumu is first to respond after clearing his throat, “What? I mean, yeah. She was our pretty manager.”  

“I remember her because it was the first time I saw Tsukishima look stupid over a girl,” Hinata chuckles, shaking his head. “But, how come I only saw you once? Were you a third year at the time?” 

Suddenly, the tension was back in the air. You catch from the corner of your eye, Atsumu growing tense from Hinata’s question, and you had to fight the urge to show your own emotions. Everyone else was silent, probably waiting for you or Atsumu to answer. “Ah, I left high school towards the end of our second year, and moved to Kanagawa. I had my hands full at the time, so I didn’t return to high school.” 

“But wh—” Hinata gets cut off by his own yelp, making you raise a brow in confusion. He turns his head towards Osamu’s direction, wincing slightly, “Osamu-san!” 

Osamu lets out a laugh, not looking anywhere near apologetic. “Ah, sorry buddy. I was reaching over Bokuto but you were in the way.” 

An awkward atmosphere engulfs around the table once more. This dinner was certainly not going according to Osamu and Reiji’s plan. Opting to avoid the awkward glances from the other individuals, you turn your attention over to focus on your food while Osamu and Reiji were sending glares towards each other once they realized your attention elsewhere. The two had talked with Atsumu earlier, devising a plan for the two of you to talk things through. Originally, Osamu suggested that the dinner should be just you and Atsumu, but Reiji declined such an idea because of two reasons. First, you would completely decline yourself to go to a dinner and leave Atsuhiro in the hospital despite your mother being present, Reiji knew you too well that the idea of dinner at a fancy restaurant without your sons was a big no. That is, unless a friend of yours were to force you by dragging you to the restaurant. And second, if you were to be left with Atsumu alone, Reiji fears that you would leave almost immediately. 

And he was right for both. If he hadn’t dragged you here himself, you wouldn’t have bothered to go. And if he hadn’t stopped you earlier, you would have ran out the moment you saw Atsumu. However, they hadn’t expected this. Reiji hadn’t expected Osamu to bring two other people, while Osamu hadn’t expected that Reiji was going to bring someone else along. Yes, it was a disaster. 

Reiji had opted to bring Asuma along, because he knew you were going to be suspicious if it were just the two of you going for dinner. You would have accused him of coddling you like a child, it was something he would do now and then when he wanted you to release all the emotions you had kept bottled up. It’s not that you didn’t appreciate him for it, he just knows that if he did such a thing during such an emotional time, you would push him away when Reiji wanted to speed things along. As much as Reiji disliked the father of his favorite twins, he wasn’t going to deprive the little boys any longer of the chance of finally getting to know their father. If he was going to force everything on you, he would do it. He, too, has grown tired of your decisions of run away. 

Osamu on the other hand, only decided to accompany his brother himself but as he and his brother were leaving the apartment, the other two barged out of Bokuto’s room claiming to be starving from the lack of food the past couple of hours because of some intense gaming session on the PlayStation 4 that Bokuto brought along with. Not being quick on their feet, the twins had blurted out they were going out to eat. They unfortunately could not decline the two balls of sunshine. 

Clearing his throat, hoping to shift the tension in the air. “Anyway,” Osamu starts before tearing his glaring gaze away from Reiji over to where Ushijima was seated across the room, “Who is that girl Ushijima is with?” 

“She kinda looks familiar,” Bokuto hums, placing his chopsticks down after finishing his first course meal, shifting his gaze over to Ushijima’s table. 

“That’s the heiress of the Akita Empire,” Asuma answers, “Pretty woman, she is. I didn’t know she was dating anyone.” 

Hinata lets out a gasp of excitement, his eyes going wide. “I wonder if Ushijima-san is really dating her!” 

“Maybe you can ask him at the party…” Bokuto suggests while the rest of his words are drowned out by you, growing bored with the night as you wonder when you can possibly leave. 

Despite drowning out the conversation around the table and focusing on the food, Atsumu pulls you in with his voice from the side, “Hey, I’m sorry about this. I told Osamu and Reiji it was a bad idea from the start.” 

Ah, so it was those two who had planned the whole thing out. You let out a sigh, turning your head to face him to answer, your voice low to keep the others out of the conversation, “There’s nothing that we can do now.” 

“Would you have preferred that it was just the two of us?” he asks, hope laced in his voice. 

Lightly nibbling on your bottom lip, you tear your gaze away from him. Did you? You actually wanted to talk to Atsumu after having the talk with your sons. You were going to express your disappointment towards Reiji and his plan full of flaws. Had they planned this for the two of you to talk? If so, this was stupid to begin with. Something so serious between the two of you and Atsumu should be discussed within private walls, and this was nowhere near private. So maybe, yes. Perhaps, if the two were you alone, then it would have been better. “I guess,” you finally admit, “Maybe the two of us can talk things through properly when this is over. I think it’s time. For now, I hope you can accept my apologies.” 

“And I hope you accept m—” 

Hinata’s loud voice booms excitedly, “Oh remember that party!” 

The two of you snap your attention over to Hinata, the disappointment clear in your features for the disruption. What were they talking about? However, curiosity gets the best of you and you entertain him anyway. “What party?” 

“The Christmas party last year!” Hinata announces with a chuckle, “At first, I was thinking why Reiji-san and Asuma-san here look so familiar then I remember I attended the party with Bo-kun and the others!” As if on cue, the moment those words left Hinata’s mouth, Atsumu and Bokuto visually stiffened, causing you to grow more curious. 

“Ah, that party.” you let out a laugh, nudging Reiji with your elbow, “He’s talking about your all-time favorite party.” 

A scowl makes its way to Reiji’s features, “Please, do not remind me of that horrendous party. I had to move rooms just because of that, and I replaced the mattress too.” 

“You’re so dramatic,” you drawled, laughing along with Asuma as you remember Reiji going crazy the next day after the party. “Just because your guests did the dirty on your bed—” Reiji cuts you off by pinching your side, which causes you to let out a yelp in both pain and surprise.

Osamu interjects with a grin, “Actually, I have a feeling that Sakusa would have died hearing such information. But I would be pissed off too, Reiji. That’s nasty. I would have moved out the whole place entirely.” 

“Right?” Reiji exclaims by throwing his hands in the air, “I couldn’t step inside the room without wanting to poke my eyes out.” 

“That’s why we no longer let Atsumu drink too much because he’ll probably do that again,” Hinata adds, laughing along. 

Once again, silence. 

“Wait, what?” Reiji asks, the first to break the silence. “That was you?” 

Bokuto smacks Hinata’s head before looking away awkwardly. Hinata, on the other hand, takes a minute to realize his mistake before flickering his gaze back and forth from Atsumu over to you, waiting for his mistake to backfire in his face. The rest of the individuals around the table turn their attention over to Atsumu, waiting for his response. 

You were the first to defend him, letting out a laugh. “Okay, enough of this. Let’s leave the past in the past. Let’s not make things awkward, it’s not like Atsumu and I are dating or anything,” 

“Tsumtsum!” a squeal echoes throughout the restaurant and all you could think now was “What now?” 

[btsslowburnfic]

Series Summary: For Namjoon, the moment he set his sights on being the #1 rapper, he pushed the symbol to the side and hated it. Love should be chosen, not forced on you. He didn’t believe in fate and this mark on his wrist was a big “fuck you” to all that.

AN: a loooong update where we get YN to Korea Previous Chapter here

The three of you made it safe and sound to your new brownstone across the river in New Jersey. Joe has a job lined up, but at the moment you and Xavier are unemployed. On this particular day, you are in your room job hunting when you hear a knock on your bedroom door and then see Xavier gently push it open. “Fly your ass to Korea. Now. Here,” Xavier throws a book at you. “I bought you a Korean dictionary.”

You roll your eyes. “Namjoon speaks English. And I can’t read the characters or whatever so how will a dictionary help. And, I’m not going to Korea.”

Xavier crosses his arms in front of his body. “Girl. You are still in your twenties. You have no job. There is a hot man who is also your soulmate across the ocean. GO TO KOREA.” You pick your phone back up, ignoring him. You hear him let out a frustrated sigh and leave the room. You didn’t know what you wanted. You didn’t tell them that Namjoon had passed along his schedule to you and that he would be in Korea for 6 weeks starting in two weeks and that he had offered to buy you a plane ticket. You kept going back and forth. Fine. Fuck it.

YN: Hey! I’ve been thinking and I would like to come visit. As long as it’s not too much trouble and won’t interfere with your schedule

You let out a breath and put the phone down. One thing you have learned is that he keeps very strange hours and there is no way of knowing when he will be awake, when he will be performing, or even what country he is in. You are shocked when you receive a reply instantly.

NJ: It’s no problem. I will be working a lot of the time, but there is also some free time blocked out so make sure you’re ready to do some sightseeing as well on your own. I’ll rent a noona for you.

YN: I have no idea what that means but ok. Sounds exciting.

NJ: You can rent tour guides. An “older sister” to translate and show you around on some of the days.

YN: That would be amazing! Ok. Sounds great!!

NJ: I’ll book the flight and email you the information.

YN: Awesome ^_^ Thank you so much.

You try to keep your cool. You really do. But it doesn’t last long as you sit the phone down and walk out into the hallway. “Xavier!”

“What? Brat.” You hear him call from the living room.

“I’m going to Korea!” You say with a big smile on your face.

“Holy shit. You’re doing it!?! Really? When?” He sits up straight on the couch.

“I’m not sure. He’s booking the flight.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God. IT’S HAPPENING. Come. Sit here. Let’s watch some Kdramas. We need to prepare you.”

You roll your eyes but join him on the couch anyway.

--3 weeks later--

The flight isn’t too bad. When Namjoon booked your ticket you did secretly wonder if he would spring for an upgraded seat since you know...you guessed he was rich. You did not expect that he was going to pay for a first class seat though. The comfort of the seats and the fact that food was actually delicious helped to balance out the longest flight you had ever taken in your life. You managed to get some rest on the plane, but not very much since you were so excited and nervous. You had not seen each other for a while. And the last time you saw him you were both naked.

When you arrive you don’t have any bags to collect; you just brought your carry-on. You know you are going to do a lot of shopping while you are there and had decided you would just buy a suitcase there. You walk down to departures and scan the crowd looking for your name. This was so exciting. You had been the person in the crowd holding a name placard before, but you had never had it done for you. It helped that it was one of the few names written in English. You smile and walk over to a man in a suit.  After confirming each other’s identity, you follow him out to a black SUV with tinted windows. He takes your bag and you slide into the backseat. 

YN: Hey! I’m on my way to the hotel. When will I get to see you?

NJ: Yeah….about that. There is no way I would be able to just be going in and out of a hotel without anyone here noticing. This isn’t LA. We can’t really go out in public much here. The driver will be taking you to my apartment complex. Once you get here, you will let security know who you are. They will provide you with a key and directions.

You weren’t expecting this at all, but it made sense.

YN: Umm ok. Sounds like a plan. 

You hoped to God someone at the security office spoke English. Oh well. You typed some things into your translation app just in case and tried to enjoy the scenery. It was a city, but it seemed a lot cleaner than LA. Less sunny, and more modern. At least the parts you were driving through.

After a fifteen minute taxi ride that has brought you into a very fancy part of Seoul you try to keep your cool as your driver assures you that this is the location you are supposed to be at. It is fancy looking as fuck and has a giant ass gate around it. The driver pulls up and shows his credentials and then pulls up and rolls your window down.

The security officer stands there, looking at you. You pull out your passport and state your name. He looks over a sheet of paper and nods. Handing you an envelope that feels like it has a keyboard and some papers in it. You thank him in shitty Korean and the driver closes the window. You open the envelope.

“Hey. If you’re getting this, I wasn’t able to get off work in time to meet you. The driver knows which building to go to. Use this key to go to unit 4106. Text me when you get there. Sorry!

Namjoon”

The chauffeur drives between several of the buildings. The streets are lined with trees and there appeared to be several small gardens between the buildings. The car comes to a stop outside building 4. The driver gets out to open your door and hands you the bag. You thank him and head into the building.

The apartment building was a lot like a luxury hotel, you find yourself thinking. It was decorated similarly with gilded light fixtures and a marble floor. You scan your key card at the elevators and head up to the 10th floor. 

It becomes very obvious from the minute you walk in that this is Namjoon’s actual apartment. His giant shoes are all over the foyer.  You purse your lips and take out your phone.

YN: YOU DIDNT SAY IT WAS YOUR APARTMENT

NJ: Relax sweetheart, the guest bedroom is for you. I’m hardly ever there. Make yourself at home and I’ll see you later ;p

YN: THATS NOT THE POINT

NJ: You’re welcome. Stop being a brat and enjoy.

You pout a little bit. Fine. Fine. You’ve already slept with him so why does it matter if this is his apartment. Because it feels so much more intimate, you think. You enter into the space while texting Xavier.

YN: New chapter in the Kdrama series. 

You knew Xavier would normally be sleeping, but he was so excited and wanted to make sure you made it safely he was wide awake.

X: Oh no, what?

YN: he didn’t arrange for me to stay in a hotel IM AT HIS APARTMENT.

X: AHAHAHAHAHA HOLY SHIT. Is it nice? Is there like a waterfall? Does it smell like rich people? Send pictures!

YN: I don’t think I should send pics since he’s famous, but there are no waterfalls that I can see. It smells normal. Actually no, it smells new, like people don’t really live here. Stay tuned for updates.

X: Has he dicked you yet?

YN: -_- he’s stuck at work. And I’ll be in the guest bedroom thankyouverymuch.

X: Yeah….ok…..suuuuuuure.

You put your phone back in your pocket and continue to wander around the apartment. It is the size of a house. There is a small terrace running  along the side of the unit and three open rooms that flow together. I guess rich people need more than one living room? You wonder. They are all furnished with couches and art. The floors are a beautiful Marble. Or Granite. Some expensive imported thing. You notice several plants on the wall as well as out on the terrace. Huh. I did not think he would be into plants, you find yourself thinking.

YN: Nice plants

NJ: My pride and joy

You smile and walk into the kitchen. It looks like a showroom. You doubt much cooking goes on here. If you could afford to eat out all the time you would too. You open the fridge and as predicted, it is mostly empty. There are a few bottles of water and some random condiments. Panic strikes you as you begin to wonder if there’s a coffee maker in this apartment. This could be a deal breaker; you might have to flee to the Marriott. There isn’t one sitting out. You frantically open cabinets. You make eye contact with a very fancy looking Espresso maker. Ok. You will learn how to use this beast. You sit it out on the counter and plug it in. Crisis averted for now. You continue through the rest of the house. You quickly find the master bedroom. Big bed. That’s all you take note of before closing the door. You don’t want to be nosy. You wander to the other end of the apartment and find an extra bedroom and an office. You don’t go to the office, but do take your stuff into the guest bedroom. You are feeling tired and starting to feel hungry.

YN: When will you be back? Is there a convenience store nearby? I need coffee and/or food.

NJ: Sorry. It will still be a while. Actually there are several stores on property. The closest one is in building 2. Here, download the app. I’ll send you the login info.

YN: Thanks.

You change out of your traveling clothes into real clothing and head to the market. The apartment complex’s layout is fairly easy to understand once you look at the app. You walk over to tower 2 and ride the elevator to the market level. It looks like the atrium of a cruise ship. There is a giant crystal chandelier hanging in the middle of the lobby area as well as beautiful indoor trees, glass art bulbs, probably a peacock or two wandering around, and some light music playing in the background. Oh God. I should just starve. This is too fancy. I need to leave.  

You turned to leave when you heard a voice speaking politely in Korean. You ignore it, and then hear the same voice ask in English,  “Excuse me, Miss. Can I help you?” A short man in his 50’s walked over. “I’m on the concierge staff here. You must be new.” 

“Ah yes. Thank you. Umm...Coffee please?”

“Of course. Take-away or beans?”

“Both please?” You ask, trying to keep it simple and very thankful for the English.

“Yes of course. If you just get me the unit number I can actually just have it sent there. Also there is an ordering and delivery app you can use next time if you would like to save yourself the walk.” The man explained while he typed some information into a tablet. 

“That’s very helpful. Thank you. For today, now please.” 

“Very well miss, please insert your chip or resident card here and sign,” he turned the tablet towards you. You inserted your debit card.  

“Thank you. Please wait.”

You take a seat in the fancy lobby area and get out your phone. You had some messages from Namjoon.

[NJ]: Oh, there is also an app you can download and order groceries to the apartment. 

[NJ]: I usually eat at work so I forget about it.

[NJ]: Sorry, you probably already hiked there.

A smirk crossed your face as you started to type a response.

[Y/N]: Sorry, I just saw these. And no worries. It’s a beautiful part of the complex. I was a little overwhelmed to be honest but the concierge was very helpful!  10/10 recommend.  

You take a picture of the lobby area and send it to him.

[NJ]: wow, yeah that’s beautiful. I haven’t actually been there myself.

The concierge returns, handing you a coffee and a bag of coffee beans.  You thank him profusely one more time.

“My pleasure. Take care.”

You sit the beans down and pose with your coffee cup, snapping a selfie to send to Namjoon.

[Y/N]: There, now all is right with the world ^_^

[NJ]: :) See you soon!

You travel back to the apartment and unpack your suitcase. You try your hardest to stay awake, but at this point you have been up for over 24 hours and you can feel the pull of sleep. You’ll just lay down for a nap. 

---------

It is dark outside by the time Namjoon gets off work. He feels bad he couldn’t meet you in the car at the airport, and even worse that he’s kept you waiting for hours. You haven’t answered any of his texts these past few hours either. He opens the door to his apartment. The lights are off. Did you leave? He wonders. He flips on the light and sees your shoes by the door which put a smile on his face. You must be sleeping. He hasn’t actually been in his apartment for about 2 months. It was mostly the same as he left it, except most of the time when he returned the apartment had a stale smell from having been left empty. This time it smelled like coffee and girl.

He enters the main living area and finds you laying in a small blanket nest on the couch with a laptop on the table; a coffee cup resting on a coaster next to it. He smiles and goes through to his bedroom to deposit his travel bag. He washes his face and changes clothes and then proceeds to nervously pace. Should he wake you up? You were probably tired, but at the same time, to prevent jet lag you shouldn’t sleep too much, and he wanted to hang out with you. He wrestles with this issue for a while and then decides he will try to wake you up.

He gently shakes your foot, “Hey sleepy. Wake up.” 

“Mmmmmmmmmmm…” you respond. What’s happening? You kick the thing bothering your foot. So annoying. You hear a deep voice laugh. Oh shit, where were you again? The shaking of your foot resumes and you crack open one of your eyes and see Namjoon sitting on the couch. “Heyyyy.”

“Hey there sweetheart. Nice seeing you in Korea.”

You feel your heart do a little flip flop at the way he’s talking to you but you want to play it cool. “Yeah. It’s good to be here.” You stretch out and move to sit up.

“How are your legs doing?” He asks.

“Good. They get stiff pretty easily and I still have to do my exercises everyday but they don’t hurt most of the time or anything. I get pretty bad headaches from time to time, but you already knew that. Sorry about that by the way.”

“It’s fine, I just carry aspirin around with me now.” He shrugs. “Did you get any food? Should I order something?”

“Yeah. Order some super Korean food.” You are fully awake now.

“Yeah? You serious? It’s not going to be like Koreatown food.” He teases

“Might as well jump in. If I don’t like it, there’s always rice, right?” You smile.

“That’s true,” he takes out his phone to order dinner.

“What did you do today?”

“Today was planning for the Festa. Even though it’s months away we have to make sure we have enough content planned just in case there are any unforeseen delays.”

“Cool.” You say. You had done your basic level ARMY research so you were somewhat familiar with their different activities.

“How was your flight? You should probably get up and stretch those legs around. Get up.” He pushes your shoulder playfully.

“Ughhh….fine. By the way. Nice apartment. Is rent like 20 grand a month?” You stand up groaning slightly like an old woman. Damn stiff legs.

“Uhh...I paid 6 million dollars for it up front so I don’t pay rent. Do you want anything to drink?”

It’s a good thing you weren’t drinking anything when he dropped that little factoid on you or you would have spit it out comic-book style. Jesus. That explained the security and Gucci grocery store. “Uh water please.” You walked over following him to the kitchen. “It’s good to see you by the way. Thanks for inviting me.” You slowly remember how to speak like a human again.

“Sure. I wish I had more free time to spend with you, but I’m glad you were able to make it.” He fills a glass with water for you. “Wait a minute! Before I forget,” he jogs out of the room and returns with a small box. “Here, this is for you. We were in Australia last month and I wanted to get something for you.”

You are surprised. It didn’t occur to you that he would think about you or buy you something. Until a few months ago you had considered yourself a nuisance. “Wow, thank you so much. You didn’t have to do that.” you say, taking the box, “I hope it’s a tiny KNOIFE or tiny koala or tiny kangaroo,” you open the box. It is an adorable mug with a Koala on it superimposed on the Australian Continent. It says in English, “Lucky Australian Koala.” You burst out laughing, cupping the mug with both your hands in front of your face. “This is perfection. Thank you so much for my authentic LUCKY AUSTRALIAN KOALA, I cannot wait to drink out of him tomorrow. Seriously. “ You sit the mug on the kitchen table. Fuck it. “Come here,” you gesture, and pull him in for a hug. His body feels solid against your and he gently wraps his arms around you. You give a firm squeeze. “Thank you for the mug and for flying me out here.”  You pull away and smile at him. 

He looks away almost shy, “It was nothing. I figure I still owe you a few for the pen incident.”

You take a drink of the water. “Yeah. You have had some dickish moments.” 

“Speaking of dickish behavior...do you want to talk about what happened with Ben or…?”

You shrug. “There’s not a lot to say. Ben apparently met his soulmate about 4 months before the car accident. He tried to stay away since we had already agreed that we didn't care about stuff like that. But he couldn't. I don't know when he started seeing Jessie behind my back. They were apparently banging all summer in the apartment and while I was in the hospital.” You take another gulp of water. Namjoon is surprised that he isn’t feeling much anger or sadness coming off of you. “After I got all my shit out of the apartment and had a chance to calm down, I couldn't be too mad about it you know? You and I had already slept together and most people aren't as stubborn as us. So really, how could they resist? I mean I was angry and sad at the time but at this point it seems like a lifetime ago. "

Namjoon had never asked about what had happened with Ben before, assuming that if you wanted to talk about it you would have brought it up. " Wow. "

"Yeah. I mean that's waaaay oversimplified but that's the gist of it. Anyways. Everything was a mess for me for a while. You know I stayed with Xavier and Joe and then  Xavier's husband got a really good job offer here so we all picked up and left LA."

“And now you’re in New York.” He finishes your thought

“Yeah. Well Jersey technically because rent is $1000 less a month. But I’m applying for jobs as assistant director at tv stations and theaters. I’m hopeful something will come up. I can’t really teach fitness classes anymore.”

Namjoon listens thoughtfully, feeling like a jackass for never asking about this stuff before. What kind of soulmate was he? 

“Well, let me know if you need a job reference.”

“Ahahahaha,” You laugh awkwardly. “No way. I don’t want people thinking I only got a job because I know someone famous.”

“Sweetheart, that’s how everyone gets jobs in the industry.” He leans against the counter.

“I don’t know, I’ll think about it.” You fidget

“You know I’ll just text Xavier and he’ll tell me the companies you applied for.” Namjoon flashes his dimples at you.

You scowl. “I didn’t realize you two were so chummy.”

“Hey, we bonded a lot in the hospital.” His phone let out a chirp. “The food is at the security office. I’ll be back in a few. Make yourself at home.” He heads over to the foyer to slip his shoes on. 

You decide to unpack and then wash your face and brush your teeth before returning to the main area where he has just returned. “That was fast”, you comment, meeting him near the door and taking a bag from his hands.

“I rode my bike over.” He replies, following you to the kitchen. 

“They let your clumsy ass ride a bike?” You tease, pulling food out.

He lets out a laugh, “Yeah. Just remember, only one of us has got hit by a car.”

“Touche. Touche. Alright. I don’t know what any of this is, so I’m going to go wait at the table like a lazy bitch.”

“Haha, fair enough. I’ll bring it over. “

You head over and have a seat at the dining table, placing your water down. This feels so weird. So intimate. He joins a few minutes later placing a bunch of food on the table along with a spoon and chopsticks.

“I’m sure there’s a fork around here somewhere if you need one.” He says as he opens the lids on the containers.

“I lived in LA where we ate sushi almost every day, I think I’ll be ok.” You sass back, ,looking over all of the delicious food. You start to dig in. He sits waiting to see what your reaction will be. You flash him a thumbs up as you chew. It’s definitely good. He smiles and begins to eat as well.

Dinner is relatively quiet. You had no idea how hungry you were until you started to eat. Some of the foods had a texture you didn’t quite care for, but overall you liked it all.

“Wow. That was delicious. Thank you so much.” You smile

“It was. You’re welcome.” He gets up and starts to clear the table and you join him. 

You continue to yawn involuntarily as the two of you straighten up the kitchen,

“Do you want some coffee or a nap?” he asks.

“I’m going to try and stay awake a little bit longer. What does the rest of the night look like?”

“Relaxing. I am exhausted from work. And you don’t look so fresh yourself. LEt’s watch a movie or something.” He says it so casually. Like this is a normal thing the two of you do. Like it hasn’t been months since the last time you saw each other and you left him naked and alone in a bed. You feel your heartbeat speed up.

“Hold on, I’m changing into some comfy clothes before I make this commitment.” you get up and head towards your room.

You come back in leggings and a shirt. Namjoon has re-positioned himself on the end of the couch. You sit next to him. “Ok, all set,” you grab your blanket. 

“You take your comfort quite seriously,” Namjoon laughs as he hits the play button. 

“Definitely,” you respond, yawning. After about half an hour, It’s dark outside, the night spilling into the living room. You are trying to keep your eyes open. You feel Namjoon put his large arm around you. You don’t resist, you nestle into it. You feel the warmth of his body radiating against you. It feels so nice.You try to stay awake but your eyelids grow heavy.  The next thing you know, you wake up slowly, not quite oriented to where you are. Your face is sweaty. You take stock of your surroundings. You are still in the living room. You must have fallen asleep while watching the movie. You move a bit and realize you are not alone. Namjoon is asleep as well. Underneath you. Oh god. You probably trapped him. Is that your drool on his shirt? You wonder. But you know that yes, it definitely is. Jesus [Y/N].Not making a great impression here.  Must sneak out so the drool will dry before he wakes up. You move as stealthy as possible off of him, which is very difficult since you found yourself laying between his legs. How did you even get like that? You had gone in for a light snuggle to see how it would be received and then apparently passed out dead. No more starting movies when you were tired. You knew it was your weakness. 

The poor man probably had to pee and was stuck, forced to lay underneath you until he fell asleep.    Is he snoring? Huh. Well ok. You drool and he snores. Very attractive individuals. You grab a blanket from your nest on the other side of the couch and put it on top of him. You sneak down the hallway to your bathroom, pee and sneak into your bedroom. You lay down and try to fall asleep, but your heart is beating fast as all you can think about it falling asleep on Namjoon. You feel your face grow warm. You are  a mix of turned on and embarrassed. You turn off your light and wonder if he will still want to go sightseeing with your drooly-ass tomorrow.  @calling-dips-on-j-hope​​  @ghostkat23​​ @cuteipat​​ @marianeamine​​@thisisval​​ @almonte12​​  @themisunderstoodblackswan​ @bobbyboops​  @betysotelo18​ @katerbees​

[moash]

i am curious to hear the other directions u didnt like about row! u have good takes ♥️

aaaaaaa thank you, idk honestly, my brain wheels are just sort of spinning tonight about different things. row for me was probably the weakest book of the series, just organizationally there was a lot going on and characters disappeared for a long time and then by the time they showed up again you had lost the forward momentum for their arc. i saw a review of row that also mentioned that none of the original main trio (kaladin, shallan, dalinar) actually really did much that was plot important. the stuff w kaladin in the tower, much of what he did didn’t actually change much, shallan didn’t really actually help adolin in the trial he plot was personal, and dalinar... well like dalinar did basically nothing except that one bit at the end where he went to see ishar and ishar was like “follow me for a plot thread for the next book ;)” thinking about dalinar especially, like we’ve talked before about how following ob dalinar in row is so colossally disappointing. i also saw a post recently about how cool it would have been if moash had had a scene where he saw what venli was doing for the singers, and acknowledged it without turning her in, bc it would fit w his character so far, and help round him out a little. and i was struck by just like.... yea.

it also doesn’t help that i have a friend who’s reading wok rn and texting me updates, and she got to the chapter where dalinar is digging the latrine (one of my favorites!!) and this is something she and i have talked a lot about wrt our dnd games, but like when he says “if they had the technology to make shardblades, why didn’t they make shard-tools to help the common people? why are there only weapons?” and it’s like that whole idea of like how do we get out of a mindset of thinking only about war and violence, and move to thinking about how we can build and make life easier. i just feel like that idea hasn’t been carried through as much as i hoped when i first read it, and being reminded of it today reminded me of where dalinar is at now and so on and so on.

also also i’m working on this fic and it’s a moash redemption arc right, but the more i get into the more i’m like, ok well so i do think there’s going to be a moash redemption arc in canon (brandon sanderson do not interact) but i bet it’s just gonna be like, so regret self-flagellating, you know? which is a mindset i (catholic) am trying to get out of more and more in my writing. i don’t think he should feel too bad about killing elhokar or roshone, but to be clear, the other stuff in row is fair game.

idk!!! im just sort of thinking about the book, and like. i think i would like to reread ob and row back to back, bc in my head there’s so much disconnect between where we left the characters in ob and where they started in row, part of that is the time skip, part of that is the way i marathoned the first three books and then had to wait for row to come out, but idk there’s just thoughts bouncing around!!!! that post about lirin was good, honestly i didn’t really know what lesson we were supposed to get out of those kaladin and lirin scenes. i’d like to reread w more of a focus on those things.

[trashcatsnark]

Questions For An Author

Tagged by the always lovely @shallow-gravy

Tagging: @enchantedbythebidders @tender-wounds @rosyibby

Name: Mariah

Top 5 Fandoms Written: Far Cry 5, Kissed By The Baddest Bidder, Cyberpunk 2077, Boyfriend To Death, uhhhh Mystic Messenger? That feels like a cheat.

Top 5 Fandoms You Want To Write For/More: Mystic Messenger, I really loved that otome, and wrote for it but never finished anyting for some reason. Fallout 4, I fell in love with Danse but struggled to fall in love with the lore (i hate the 50’s aesthetic shit ngl, but thats just me) so nothing ever took off. Supernatural, ironically most popular fic on AO3 is for Supernatural but I never sunk my teeth into writing for it like I thought I would. Boyfriend to Death, I actually have like lots of my one shots and some series ideas for BtD, but never really have found the time or energy to write them. Stardew Valley is a big one too, I adore Shane, but for some reason that fic has yet to catch it’s vibe.

Stories You Wish More People Knew About: Granted, Can You Feel The Sun? My cyberpunk 2077 fic is still very much in it’s infancy, so it’s understandable but I still sometimes am like wahhh i wish it was doing better. But, I know its just a time thing, i mean, it took about a year for This Is Love to do as well as it is rn.

Ship(s) Written The Most: Dahlia x Polyseed, Tsuneko x hinted with all bidders, Aidan x Johnny. Im an oc simp, what do you want from me.

Character(s) Written The Most: Dahlia at this point. As far as canon characters, maybe Pratt since he’s her shit head sidekick.

How Many OCs Do You Have: An amount. Dahlia for FC5, Tsuneko for KBTBB, Aidan or CP2077, Regan for SPN, Scout for FO4, Haejin for Mystic Messenger, Jude for SDV. Unnamed ocs for BtD and Monster Prom. And if you go far enough back i had like a billion shitty ocs for OHSHC, Fruits Basket, Naruto, YYH, One Piece, Digimon, Pokemon, etc etc.

How Many Series Do You Have: Publicly; I have 3. This Is Love (FC5), Black Market Wonderland (KBTBB), and Can You Feel The Sun? (CP2077). Though, unfinished, I did have Blossoming which was gonna be my Mystic Messenger fic and Mad To Live which was gonna be my supernatural fic. And I never named them but I was gonna do one for SDV and FO4, maybe someday, or not at all.

What Do You Do With Fics You’re No Longer Interested In?: I don’t really like to like abandon fics, but like it is a struggle especially when I lose interest in the fandom it’s for. Black Market Wonderland has been on a very long hiatus, but I definitely do wanna come back to it whenever my love for KBTBB is back and Im less frustrated with Voltage as well as some shit that went down in the fandom. I know drama and personal shit shoudn’t impact feelings on a game, but its hard for it not to for me.And what happened in voltage stuff was like, the most personal I’ve ever been involved in stuff so, its hard. But i still love the characters, so hopefully I’ll rekindle that flame. So, i guess I just wait and pray for my energy to return.

Coming Soon: The next update I do, that I have planned for next month is chapter 11 for This Is Love.

Line From A WIP: From Can You Feel The Sun? Chapter 2. (accidentally wrote can you feel the love, smashing fic titles together omg) Also, spoilers for Jackie's backstory in Cyberpunk 2077, so skip over if you don't want.

“I meant what I said before, Night City ain’t the kind of place to let you get by without family, but…” He trails off and chews his lip as he considers his next words. Then they seem to die in his throat.

“But…?” She prompts, trying to encourage him to finish his thought. Jackie then grabs a belt from his nightstand table, stretching worn leather over his fingers.

“Do you know what this is?”

It’s clear it has some significant value to him, but she has no way of knowing what, to her it’s just a belt. So, she merely shakes her head no, deciding not to be a smartass and allow him the chance to get the weight off his chest.

“This belt belonged to my dad, if you can call him that, Raul Welles. He, uh, use it to beat on us.. Go to school overed in welts, have to watch like a coward when he’d go after my ma.”

“You weren’t a coward,” V signs and gets up from her chair, sitting next to him, touching his shoulders, “you were a child.”

“Yeah…well, one day I ripped the belt right out of his hand and showed him what it felt like, turns out he couldn’t take his own medicine. Haven’t seen him since, but keep it on hand, just in case.”

V squeezes his shoulder, not sure what to say or do, how to comfort someone after that. The pains of a shitty dad is one she knows all too well, even when her own wasn’t trying to kill her, he was fixated on making her and her sister strong; training them. She knows all too well that you can’t take away the memories or the pain, but she hopes, being here can be enough. That the comfort of touch can act as a temporary salve for the heart, even if it’s all she can offer.

“Look, chica,” he takes a deep breath, “I don’t know your story, when and if you tell it is up to you. But, my point is. You need a family to get along in Night City, but family don’t end or start with blood. My old man will never be family to me. But, I got…people… who don’t share a drop of blood of with me and I’d take a bullet for ‘em”

“I think…I get what you mean, family you choose is what matters most.”

She agrees, but choosing her family is it’s own beast. Letting people in, breaking down walls, finding a family that chooses her as much as she chooses them. It’s all a terrifying prospect, being alone is easier, more convenient, less effort… Though it has a cost too, of course.

“So, make a choice.”

“What?”

“Work with me, V.”

Do You Accept Prompts?: I accept questions and ideas; I’m always open to talking about my oc’s and their bullsit. But as far as prompts go, if I'm in a mood which is rare and don’t really take requests. I just personally have always found that if I accept requests or prompts; writing because a duty/obligation and not a hobby which drains a lot of the fun for me.

How Do You Feel About Kudos?: They’re nice and I really appreciate them. Comments and bookmarks will make me the happiest!~ That being said I’m really bad about doing that myself so I get it.

Do You Read Fic As Well?: Not that much actually, I’m very particular with what I read regularly and even then, maybe once a week I go on a reading binge. I love fanfic, greatly, but I’m someone who’s like I need to write

[thetimetraveler24]

What are some tips you have for new fanfic writers?

Well, I’m honored you think I know what I’m doing. I feel like a professional with this question. Half the time I don’t think anyone will like my stuff and then people do and it’s a surprise to me. But I do think I have some good advice and tips for you. And if anyone sees this and has some tips of their own, feel free to add on.

There is no such thing as a bad idea. Number one thing to know. Something I personally like to do is use my notes app on my phone. I have a folder labeled ideas and I have a note for each fandom with bullet points of story ideas. Chances are, I’ll never get around to 90% of them and even higher chances, I’ll loose interest in even writing them. But it’s good to have around because you can use those ideas in other stories.

I also like to write down things I want to include in the future for fics im working on. I have a note labeled Blink of an Eye that has a bunch of bullet points for that series. Look at this:

As you can see, what I actually did in the story evolved from what I had written down, but this really helps me to have an idea for what I want to do.

Probably the most basic… READ OTHER FICS! For me, I started out on ffn and then moved to ao3. I did not get (and still don’t completely get) the additional tags. Reading other fics definitely helped me with tagging. But also, like with traditional books, you can kind of see if you like that style. One of my fics, Time Displaced, uses a different format than say The Doll. And obviously disasters: A Chat Fic is written in a texting format.

Honestly, find what you’re comfortable with or how you want to write. Not to mention, you can get inspired by other works. Ao3 actually has a feature where you can link the work that your work is inspired by. Authors can approve it and your story will show up on at the end of theirs under Works Inspired By This One.

Comments. People are going to badger you and ask when you are going to update. Don’t update just because people are demanding if. Update when YOU want to. This is YOUR story and you are writing it because you have a story to tell. This is for YOU not them.

But, like, if people are asking you to update then that means your stuff is good and that’s always a nice feeling.

Also, don’t worry if you don’t get any comments. That happens. I have hundreds of comments on some stories (mostly long chapter ones). Tens of comments on others (usually one shots or 2-3 ish chapter ones). And I also have stories that have zero comments. Most recently that is my Shadow and Bone coda fics.

Maybe it’s not what anyone in the fandom is looking for at the moment. Maybe my summaries don’t bring people in. Maybe they just suck. Doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I got an idea out of my head and into the world. I write for me. Because I enjoy writing and getting my ideas out there.

Please note that despite the above statement, I am shamelessly self promoting my works with all the links lol.

I would definitely recommend getting a Google account. I have all my fics on Google docs. And I’ll share my organization system for that too. So I title all my fics in a certain format: “(fandom) - (fic title)”. This way I can find things easier by just searching for all my fics from a certain fandom. For example:

PJO/HoO/ToA/MCGA - The Sum of Our Choices: The Sword of Summer

Shadowhunters - Fate Beckons

Descendants - The One All About the Wand

So, so, so helpful. Especially because I have hella old fics that I don’t remember the names of but I can find by searching by fandom.

Last thing I can think of right now, pick your platform. I know some people cross post on sites. For me, I’m ao3 only. I still have my old ffn stuff but I was not as good a writer and my ao3 stuff is actually good. Plus I think ao3 generally has a more “professional” feel to it if that makes sense? I do also use tumblr obviously but I mostly just post links and update info here. It really depends on what you feel comfortable with. I recommend ao3 just because I like the tag system, but ffn is also good. I’ve never used wattpad but I know people like being able to comment on a specific line of text. Really, just explore each site and figure out what works best for you.

[omegawolverine]

7 n 8! If u haven’t done them already, then also 37 why not - moo

i just did 8 but here's the other 2!!

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

i love torturing characters <3

uhm but actually, the end is kinda iffy but overall i think the emotion is good in this and it helped sorta turn the fic from a Why Am I Writing moment to an Okay I Could Publish This

37. Talk about your current wips.

god this is gonna say something about me...

Désolé - the snippet above is from this work!! i started writing it literally like 7 or 8 months ago but i just started working on it again like last month!! is c!karlnapity hurt/comfort but im really struggling to write the comfort part bc i have very little experience in that department :] fun fact abt this tho: the title is snatched from the gorillaz song désolé (but the fic has nothing to do with it, i just think the vibe fits)

chat fics: i have 2 of em, one's IT, the other is bnha, the bnha one i have 2 chapters half drafted for update, the other i have not updated since may 2020 bc ive been too busy and it's an old hyperfixation so coming up with ideas is a bit of a Pain. im not planning on dropping either, it's just taking me forever to update em lmaooo

sweater stealer, sweater stealer: cute idea for a kiribaku fic but i didnt think far enough ahead for what i wanted to do with it so now it's just been sitting incomplete since sometime in early 2020,,, oops. again, i plan to finish it, i just have too many other things im writing to get back to this one rn ajsksjk

best friend: fruitily projecting onto matt from death note /hj but actually its a fic about matt/mello growing up together, begins before the events in death note, will probably end a little bit after they die bc i wanna write a chapter about near reminiscing. mostly planned out but i havent updated it in awhile despite the next chapter also being drafted bc i am literally The Worst and have too many wips for someone with very little motivation and not a whole lot of free time

south park series: i have 3 south park series technically, one's a bunch of soulmate oneshots, ones just an excuse for me to write about crenny being gay and also friends with the goths, the third i refuse to talk about bc i will be Shamed (its nothing nsfw or anything bad, it's just one of those aus that people usually give a side eye but im too deep into writing it now to drop the au)

cherry flavoured: a kirishinbaku series that's mostly shinsou centric (atm at least), the title is ripped from cherry flavoured by the neighbourhood, is mostly just short one shots about them becoming friends and then, eventually, dating

team 10 series: will this ever be updated again? probably not! its a naruto series about shikamaru/choji/ino and i started it in 2018 but i havent updated it once despite knowing what i wanna do bc im, once again, the literal fucking worst. im also just not super into naruto so idk why or how i even wrote this lmao

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 5: Don’t Even Think About It]

Hi y’all! I’m so sorry I’ve been gone for so long...finals and job hunting got the best of me. I will be updating more frequently going forward. As always, thank you so much for reading!! 💜😘

Series summary: You are an overwhelmed and disenchanted nurse in Boston, Massachusetts. Queen is an eccentric British rock band you’ve never heard of. But once your fates intertwine in the summer of 1974, none of your lives will ever be the same...

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, very very very little sexual content.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

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You’re in the crowd at The Rainbow, although you aren’t sure why; this has already happened.

Freddie is skulking across the fog-draped stage as he belts out the chorus of In The Lap Of The Gods...Revisited, all glistening tan skin and teased hair, a pillar of nimble black leather; John is only a silhouette in the mist. Brian looks like something that’s crawled out of a cocoon: leggy and insect-like, the sleeves of his flowing white blouse like a pair of wings. And Roger...Roger’s in the back, of course—“the hardworking one in the back,” he always says—with a glittery black kimono-like shrug hanging loosely off his bare shoulders. He’s drumming feverishly, sprays of Heineken flying off his floor tom, his forehead and blond hair dripping.

“Whoa, whoa, la la la, whoa...

I can see what you want me to be,

But I'm no fool,

It's in the lap of the gods...”

Somehow, as the fog clears, Roger’s eyes find you in the crowd. He grins in that effervescent, blameless way that he does. And now you know for sure that this is a dream; because there’s no chance Roger could see that far without his glasses.

There’s a banging noise coming from somewhere, but it’s muted, distant, splintered like an echo.

Dream Roger is fading away, dissolving as the lights shade to black on the stage. He disappears, and then Freddie does too, and then Brian, and finally John. The crowd you’re standing in is a sea of churning, indistinguishable faces.

The banging grows louder, closer. You can hear a new voice now.

You swim up from unconsciousness and punch into daylight. You’re laying on your back in bed in a small, rustic hotel room; it takes you a second to remember what the world looks like now. It’s not November at the Rainbow Theater. It’s December 11th, and you’re in Rome.  

You sit up in bed and turn towards the door. Whoever is out there is knocking so forcefully that the distressed wood rattles on its hinges.

“Hey, Dorothea Dix, wake up!” Freddie is shouting through the door.

You rub your eyes as your feet touch the cool teak floor. The band flew into Rome late last night, and has one full day to burn before their concert on the 12th. You’d pitched the idea of visiting a few museums, the Colosseum, the Pantheon, the Roman Forum, St. Peter's Basilica, maybe even the Baths of Caracalla or the Temple of Venus and Roma; but it had been difficult to get anyone to commit at 2 a.m. when you were all exhausted and dragging luggage into the modest, quite geriatric hotel. Queen may finally have a Top 20 album in the U.S., but the streets aren’t paved with gold just yet.

“Darling, need I remind you that this was all your idea, you simply must wake up this instant—!”

You swing the door open. Freddie is standing in the hallway in a vivid yellow-and-black jacket and white jeans, tall boots, dark hair huge and curly, folded aviator sunglasses peeking out of his pocket.

“Get ready, bitch,” he says, grinning, then slips the sunglass over his dusky eyes. “All those gorgeous marble blokes with their cocks hanging out aren’t going to ogle themselves.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You start with the ruins, then end up at the National Roman Museum after lunch. Brian and Chrissie meander through the halls of cracked marble goddesses and heroes and piecemeal fractions of bodies, their hands intertwined; Chrissie took a few days off work to meet the band in Rome, and she’s glowing with the thrill of being reunited with Bri. Freddie is contemplating the displays, tapping his chin thoughtfully and chatting as John nods along and sketches in his notebook. There’s a photographer scurrying around snapping photos of the band for some magazine, to the vexation of the museum employees. They scowl from the corners of the rooms, their suits pristine and arms crossed, muttering to each other in Italian.

Roger leaps in front of a hulking statue of Perseus and mimics the pose. “What do you think?” he asks you, wielding an invisible spear. “Am I courageous? Divine? A mirror image?”

“You’ll have to work on the hair. And gain like a hundred pounds.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Pounds?!”

“Whoops. Kilos. A lot of kilos. But I think I like you as you are. Can I see your hands?”

Roger falls out of his pose, smiling. “Yes ma’am.” He presents his palms for inspection. The first weeks had been hell for him as his hands were worked into touring shape, repeatedly blistered and worn raw, iced and treated and bandaged by you each night only to be pummeled all over again the next day. Of course, Roger hadn’t described it that way; he shrugged at the blood and swollen knuckles, his eyes already alight with the promise of future shows. That’s just a casualty of fame, love, he’d told you. I’d take it all again and more. The last of his blisters have healed now into discolored callouses, rough whirlpools of memories from cities like Glasgow and Bristol and Helsinki and Munich. “I can get more pounds too, you know. I’ll be swimming in them. I’m gonna buy you a mansion when we get home.”

“Not so fast, blondie.” You graze your thumbs over his rugged palms and release him. Aside from your annoyingly incessant concern for Roger, your job hasn’t proved to be too taxing: there have been sprains, minor lacerations, severe hangovers, some alcohol poisoning, and one case of syphilis that you identified and sent the unfortunate man to a doctor for, all of which afflicted the roadies rather than the band.

“How’s Jo doing?” Chrissie calls over from where she and Brian are scrutinizing a sculpture of Apollo. She tosses Roger a smirk.

“Fine,” he replies briskly. “It was amicable. She understood. Nothing personal, just with the tour and everything we knew it wasn’t going to work out. Bad timing, that’s all.”

“Hm. That’s not exactly how she described it.”

Roger sighs, irritated. “Well, Chris, I really can’t control what she chooses to tell you, can I?”

“Shhhh. Play nice, love,” Brian coos, massaging Chrissie’s shoulders.

Roger pops a cigarette between his lips and moves to light it. A museum employee rushes over, waving his arms frantically. “Per favore, signore, no smoking near the exhibits—!”

“Oh, right, right. Sorry.” Roger tucks the cigarette away, then turns back to you. “Okay, no mansion then. What’s your fancy? Diamonds and gold? Tigers on leashes?”

“A harem of sensual Italian men?” Freddie suggests. Chrissie bursts out laughing.

“I hope not,” Roger says.

“You know what I really want?” you say, eyeing busts of Hadrian and Nero.

“What?” Chrissie asks.

“A camera. A really good one. To document all of this, our adventures. I mean, I know we have...” You wave towards the magazine photographer, who’s mostly snapping shots of Freddie and Roger. “But it would be nice to have my own photos. Carry them around in my wallet, force strangers to look at them, cover my refrigerator with them, all that sentimental stuff. So the minute you kids start making real money, I’d like a nice Canon. Or a Nikon. Or whatever the best camera is.”

“The Canon F-1 is quite good,” the photographer offers.

“Perfect! Clearly, I know nothing about cameras. And will need a hefty instruction manual. But I’m still excited.”

Roger winks. “I believe in you.”

As you all wander into the next room, Freddie spies a grand piano and sprints to it. He slides onto the bench and begins testing the keys. A distraught museum employee appears instantly.

“Signore, please, this is for the museum staff only, please signore!”

“Oh relax, darling, I won’t break it.” He begins experimenting with some light, jazzish melody.

“I love Rome,” you decide as you stroll past the Aphrodite of Menophantos. “Are you sure we can’t stay here forever?”

John frowns as he shades in whatever he’s drawing in his notebook. “It’s too bad we couldn’t make it to Florence.”

Freddie rolls his eyes from the piano. “Deaky, darling, this Dante’s Inferno obsession has got to go. It’s positively morbid.”

“He ends up in paradise,” John protests wryly.

Freddie snorts. “Yes, well, Florence is a three hour drive each way. Next time perhaps. Once we’ve all got private jets and Nurse Nightingale over there has her posh camera.”

“And we’ve acquired trophy wives to pose with us,” Brian jokes. Chrissie squeals and shoves him good-naturedly.  

“We could go to the beach,” John proposes.

“A seaside rendezvous?” you say playfully.  

Freddie hums and nods as his fingers fly over black and white keys.

“Signore...” the museum employee begs. The photographer circles Freddie and the piano, snapping picture after picture.

“The beach?!” Roger whines. “It’s too cold for that! We can’t swim, we can’t sunbathe practically naked, what’s the point? And we’re checking out that club tonight. The one by the hotel, what’s it called, Fred? El Fuocolio?”

“Il Fuoco,” Freddie corrects, amused.

“Ah. Forgive me for not keeping up with my Italian.”

“We don’t all listen to opera, you know,” you tease Freddie. He peers over at you thoughtfully, then continues playing. “I’ll go to the beach with you, John.”

He almost drops his notebook and pencil. “Will you?”

“Of course. I’ll have fewer opportunities in my life to see the Italian seaside than get tipsy and evade dodgy men at some bar, most likely. Although I will miss seeing your dancing.”

“Aww!” Now Roger is dejected, his huge blue eyes pleading. “You have to come with us.”

“Next time,” you promise him.

“This time.”

“Next time.”

“Fine.” He points at John. “Don’t let her get eaten by a shark or run off with some Italian playboy.”

John grins. “I’ll do my best.”

Two burly security guards arrive and begin shouting at Freddie in Italian. “Oh fine, fine!” he snaps as he stands and abandons the piano. The museum employee beams triumphantly.

“Fred, I think we’ve tormented them enough,” Brian says.

“Bri, can we go to the beach too?” Chrissie asks. “Please?”

“It’ll be chilly.”

“I have a jacket. And I can borrow yours if necessary.”  

Brian chuckles. “Okay. We can go. Ostia’s the closest one, I suppose.”

“You’ll love it,” you tell him. “It’ll be like time travelling. You get to stand on the same shore that the ancient Romans did, bury your feet in the same sand, watch the same sunset. That should appeal to an astrophysicist such as yourself.”  

“How poetic,” John muses.

Roger comes to you, shrugs off his black leather jacket, drapes it over your violet sweater.

“Roger, don’t—”

“I’ll miss you,” he interrupts, smiling, then presses his lips fleetingly to your forehead.

~~~~~~~~~~

The four of you take a crowded, decidedly unglamorous bus to Ostia and walk the beaches under the fading afternoon sun. It is chilly by the crashing water, and the wind whips across your cheeks forcefully enough to sting; but none of that stops you. Brian and John collect seashells, and Brian retreads all the details of the tour—all the things he wishes he could do over, all the things he wants to change going forward—as John listens, smoking and nodding when appropriate. You and Chrissie kneel in the cool sand and shape castles with your hands, giggle about how messy and lopsided they are, scribble notes in the soft sifting remnants of stone and quartz: Chrissie loves Bri, Buy Sheer Heart Attack today, Queen was here. And you’re thinking about Roger more than you should be, and Chrissie knows it; but she’s not going to say anything about that now.

When the boys come back, Bri sits in the sand next to Chrissie and begins to decorate her castle with the shells he found: scallops and clams and tulip shells and oysters and tiny lightning whelks. She claps and hugs him, leaps into his lap, pulls him in for a kiss.  

“This is terribly unfair,” you say, staring morosely at your now even less impressive sandcastle.

John appears beside you and offers a massive pink conch filled with very small, pristine, glossy shells. You gasp and clasp a palm over your heart.

“Really?!”

“Yeah,” he says, puzzled. “Who do you think I picked them for?”

“You’re the best. The absolute best. A treasure. I owe you my life. Wait...” You pick up a thin shard of driftwood and write into the side of your sandcastle: John Deacon, and then a heart encircling it. “You are officially lord of the sandcastle.”

“A prestigious position, surely,” he says, smiling, then passes you the conch. “Go on.”

As you place the shells, he finds a dried bit of seaweed and impales it on the piece of driftwood, then plants the makeshift flag on the tallest tower of the castle.

Brian glances over and shakes his head, his mess of curls shivering. “Chris, love, I fear we’ve been outdone.” Then he nods to the words you and Chrissie carved with your fingertips. “Leaving letters in the sand?”

“Promotional material,” you quip; but you can tell the wheels in Brian’s magnificent mind are whirling.

As the sun sets over the Mediterranean Sea, golden speckles of light floating disembodied on the waves, the four of you get gelato and browse through bookstores and wander down cobblestone streets. And on the bus ride back to the hotel, Brian points out constellations as you hold the conch shell in your lap and doze against John’s shoulder.

~~~~~~~~~~

Brian and Chrissie depart to get dinner when you arrive back at the hotel, taking the rare opportunity for a date night. You try to think of a more romantic destination than Rome. Paris? New York? Venice? Probably none of those. You push the images that flood your thoughts away: candlelit meals with violins serenading in the background, the warm cascading glow of streetlights, tossing coins into fountains older than either London or Boston, gazing over the table and into the ensnaring oceanic eyes of the person who won’t be there. Roger.

“Do you think Roger and Fred are back yet?” you ask John in the lobby. He’s still got his notebook in his jacket pocket, but he won’t let you see it.

“I doubt it, but let’s find out.”

You ride the elevator to the band’s floor, still clutching the conch shell, as John fields ideas for dinner.

“Roger’s going to want pizza and beer, but we might be able to get Freddie to go for something more swanky. Actually, he’ll probably order dessert first. There’s a restaurant down the street that I heard has phenomenal tiramisu and lasagna.”

“Oh god. I would kill for a good lasagna.”

“No need for all that,” John says. “We don’t have enough cash for your bail.”

“If they serve lasagna in prison, you can leave me here.”

“But then who would patch up our debaucherous roadies?!”

You laugh as the elevator lurches to a halt and the doors open. “Just call me up in prison and I can talk you through it—”

You step out and turn down the hallway; then all the air vanishes from your lungs. Roger’s fumbling with his key as he tries to get into his room...and pressed between him and the door is a raven-haired, modelesque woman in a short red dress. His eyes are closed, her tongue darting between his lips, his free hand skating up her bare thigh and beneath her dress. And suddenly you’re being dragged back into the elevator, John’s arms locked around your waist. He hits the button for the lobby then reaches for you uncertainly.

“Are you okay—?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m totally fine, I’m...” But for some reason, your throat is burning and your eyes are blurring with tears. You try to blink them away and they drop down your cheeks like rain.

“You’re not,” he realizes softly.

“Goddammit,” you choke out, sobbing.

“Hey, don’t do that,” John pleads. “Please don’t do that, please don’t cry—”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, this is so stupid...” You fan your face and try to wrangle your breathing. The way he was touching her...I can’t forget the way he was touching her. “I am so stupid.”

“You’re not,” John flares. And when he opens his arms you rush into them, burying your face in his jacket as he pulls you closer, drowning you in his warmth. “You’re not stupid,” he says, quietly but severely. “You’re wicked smart and wonderful and perfect, so you’re not allowed to say anything to the contrary. Alright?”

“Okay,” you whisper. And it occurs to you—as your breathing slows, as your tears subside—how incomparably comfortable this feels, homey even.

John clears his throat. “Hey, not to break this up or anything, but you’re sort of stabbing me with the conch shell.”

Incredibly, you laugh as you back away, swiping at your eyes. “Sorry.”

The elevator doors open, and John leads you out into the lobby. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he says. “We’re going to go to that restaurant on the corner and I’m going to order a lasagna—”

“John, I don’t think I can eat anything.”

“Doesn’t matter. Did I say you were going to be forced to eat it at gunpoint? No I did not. I’m going to order a lasagna, and if you want some awesome, and if you don’t we’ll just sit and talk. And you can nibble table bread or drink so much wine you forget today ever happened, whatever you want. You make the rules. But we’re going, and I’m ordering lasagna.”

“Okay,” you reply, sniffling, smiling up at him gratefully.

The restaurant is teeming with tourists, and you end up seated at a tiny table near the back with very dim lighting and a roaring fireplace. It’s deliciously hot, burning away your misery; or, at least, making it feel as if it might belong to someone else, as if maybe you heard about it from a friend or in a song, maybe even dreamed it. You take Roger’s leather jacket off and hang it on the back of your chair. When the waiter arrives, John orders for you.

“One lasagna, the biggest one you have, and extra table bread, and uh...” He skims the menu. “Two red wines and a Coke. And a sparkling water. So the lady has a selection.”

“Si, signore. Grazie.”

When the waiter leaves, John lifts off his jacket too, then unbuttons his shirt to his navel. The sweltering glow of the firelight dances across his pale skin in a way that is mysteriously distracting. “Well, it definitely doesn’t feel like December in here.”

“I’m sorry, maybe they could move us—”

“No, that’s alright, I know you like it. And one should be sweating in Southern Italy, don’t you think?” He tears off a hunk of bread when it arrives and plates it for you. The conch shell lays on the table by the salt and pepper shakers, to the visible confusion of the waiter.

“Thank you. For everything, John. Really.”

He gazes at you with those blue-grey eyes that can look like either clouds or steel depending on the occasion. Tonight they are misty, like the froth over waves, impossibly soft. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he says gently. “I don’t know if that helps at all, but I think it should. It doesn’t mean anything to someone like Roger, what you saw tonight.”

You sigh. “I guess it doesn’t. And I’m sorry, I know it’s ridiculous, I know that, and I’m just so frustrated and...and...I get it, I get that I have no right to care about anything Roger does, which is why I feel like such an idiot for reacting this way, but I just...I just...I’m just so...so fucking torn up about it and I’m sick of being surrounded by it all the time and I’m...I’m so...I’m...look, I’m sorry, can you button your shirt or something? That’s very distracting.”

“Oh, it’s distracting, is it?” John asks, grinning.

“Don’t you dare—”

He undoes several more buttons. “How about now, are you sufficiently distracted?”

“John, no!” you wail, laughing.

“I wouldn’t want to do anything to distract you from your tortured inner monologue...” He removes his shirt entirely and tosses it to the floor. “How are you now?”

“Very distracted,” you wheeze.

“Excellent.” He smiles, resting his face in his hands, the firelight flickering over his bare chest and shoulders, reflections of flames in his eyes. “See, you don’t look so sad now.”

“No, I guess I don’t.” You bite into your hunk of bread. But still, the way he was touching her...  

John sips red wine and smirks teasingly. “You know...if you ever get tired of the celibate lifestyle...I’m always game.”

You laugh, shaking your head, and open the Coke bottle. “That’s very much appreciated. But I don’t just want sex.”

“I know,” he replies, solemnly now. “You want him.”

“That’s pretty pathetic, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think you’re pathetic at all.” That seems like it must be a lie, but John sounds genuine.

“You’re my best friend, you know,” you tell him. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Certainly not get treated to authentic Italian lasagna.”

You chuckle. “I’m sure that’s the least of your talents. Veronica is a very lucky woman.”

John nods, staring down at the table now, pushing crumbs around with the back of his hand. “If you say so.”

And, in the end, you managed to eat your half of the lasagna after all.

~~~~~~~~~~

When you get back to your hotel room, it’s very late in Italy...which means it’s only early evening in Boston. You pick up the phone and resolve to use the last of your miniscule weekly allowance for a long distance call.

Your mom answers on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Guess where I am right now.”

“Hopefully on a date with that nice Roger boy.”

“Oh my god, Mom.”

She titters pleasantly. “Tell me, dear. Germany? No, no. Spain.”

“Rome.”

“Oh!” she sighs, steeped in nostalgia. “Daddy and I went there on our honeymoon! Ages ago, of course. But it was wonderful, otherworldly. Like getting lost in a fairytale. How do you like it?”

“I love it,” you murmur. “Mom, can I ask you something?”

“Always, dear.”

You twirl the phone cord around your fingers anxiously. “How did you know that Dad was the one?”

“Hm.” She pauses; and you can envision the way she takes a step back and glances up at the ceiling whenever she’s thinking something over. Oh, maybe I do still miss parts of Boston. “Well...you know Daddy wasn’t single when we met. And neither was I.”

“Yeah, I think I remember that part of the story.”

“I’m not sure if I can explain it, dear. Truly. I...” She drifts off, pondering it. Finally, she says: “I’d had plenty of other boyfriends. I’d been interested in other people. And people are all so different, they all have something unique to offer to your life, whether good or evil. But when I met your father...I just felt like I couldn’t live without him. Suddenly nothing else seemed possible if he wasn’t in the picture. Like if he wasn’t there I’d spend the rest of my life missing him. Does that answer your question?”

“It does, yeah.” You close your eyes and feel the dark Mediterranean night air breeze in through the open window. The conch shell has found a temporary home on top of the antique dresser. “I love you, Mom.”

“Aww, I love you too, honey. And you’ll make the right decision, whatever that is.”

You look out into the constellations that Brian introduced to you earlier, Aries and Fornax and Perseus. “I hope so.”