#it’s been so long since i reread the books but i’m always two seconds away from an unprompted lecture alas

[dragonseeds]

maybe like four blogs ago i wrote the most insane book-focused meta about will as john the baptist and starling as a sacrificial christ figure who becomes one with god in a way john cannot and is absorbed in the process of her apotheosis—but the point is the story is about her and will’s only the forerunner, the prologue. like, i love hannibal the show and will graham is my favorite unhinged wet dog, but i’m still a little bitter starling’s story was dissected and given predominately to a male character instead of fuller just coming up with something unique for will and hannibal.

what’s most interesting to me about them has always been will’s fundamental inability to handle the work that he was asked to do and that everyone knew this but they kept asking because he’s so Special—whereas starling could handle it, being clever and hard-working and exceptional at compartmentalization, but was never allowed to do so because she wouldn’t compromise herself to get ahead. it’s stings because gender is precisely why they ended up where they did; the horror and violence of gender is so thematically significant and inextricable to the series for me. will caught hannibal almost by accident in the books. hannibal caught starling not by devising a trap for her or gaslighting her (that came later) but simply because the systemic misogyny she faced pushed her out of her career and her life, and her contempt for the corruption of system grew and grew and crystallized inside her until she was forced to make a choice—shoot the dirty cop or let hannibal be eaten by the pigs—and in making it she revealed the truth of herself: that she believed she was above the law, above the broken system, above the men who uphold it. that choice drove her straight to hannibal. he didn’t have to do anything at all to isolate her. she came for him; he just had to wait.

[punkette1026]

Runaway (part 1)

Summary: Running away is your specialty. When things don't go your away you run and never look back. However when a tragedy happens, you are left with a choice, run or lose the one person that means the world to you.

Trigger warning: This story deals with miscarriage and coping with the loss of a child. Please feel free to skip if uncomfortable.

This was a writing challenge that we have going in our Pascal's fan net discord. The challenge was to take a song and write it into a story. #pascalsnetwritingchallenge

Song: come into my arms by November Ultra

How, how can you catch the sun? Can you breathe when you're on the run? Slow down my darling

Every now and then Come and take my hand

For every little lie you tell so you can hide Will grow inside your chest

Your heart will need to rest So come into my arms

I hope you enjoy. Again please feel free to leave feedback. It helps me out.

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This was the third time this week that Joel had woken up with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wished it was his alarm clock or the sun peaking through the curtains that got him up from his restless slumber, but it was him rolling over and not feeling you beside him. All his strong calloused hand was met with was the cold sheets and your empty pillow. He immediately shot out of bed knowing it was going to be one of those days.

Walking down the stairs still wiping the sleep from his eyes, Joel looked out in the backyard and found you out by the pool with your feet dipped in the water and a book in your hand. “Hey darlin, it’s like eight in the morning. What are you doing out here?”

You don’t budge as he takes a seat next to you. You don’t even turn to kiss him good morning. You just keep your eyes on your book, rereading the same paragraph for the tenth time, “I couldn’t sleep anymore and I didn’t want to wake you up, so I came out here. Watched the sun come up and everything.”

“First off, you can wake me up whenever you’d like. I don’t mind. Secondly, since it's Saturday and we have nothin to do or places to be, how bout we go back inside and cuddle in bed or make breakfast together.”

He went to wrap his arm around you, but you shrug it off and stand up, “I’m really not in the mood Joel. I think I’m going to clean the house. If you are hungry, I picked up fresh eggs at the market yesterday, help yourself.”

Joel quickly gets up to his feet and follows you into the house, “Darlin, the house is already clean. You cleaned it yesterday and the day before. Can you just turn around and talk to me please?”

“There is nothing to talk about Joel! Everything is fine!” You were getting real tired of him bothering you. You were starting to feel like he was smothering you and you couldn’t breathe. “On second thought, I think I’m going to go for a long run. I’ll be back.”

You go to head upstairs to change, but Joel stops you, “Hey wait please! I really think we need to sit down and talk about what’s happened.” He slowly approaches you and gently places his hands on your arms, causing you to finch, “It’s been two weeks. I know you are hurtin, I’m hurtin too.”

Two weeks, has it been really two weeks?, you think to yourself. Time moves differently now, more slowly. The days bled into night and the nights bled into days. You lost all sense of time. You were lucky if you could even remember to feed yourself at this point. Not that it mattered though. It felt like your life was over now. It felt like your will to live ended when you got the news. You couldn’t tell Joel that though. It would make him even more concerned and getting him to leave you alone would even be more difficult than it already was.

“Joel I’m fine really,” You lie, “You don’t need to worry about me, okay. I feel better today than I did yesterday.”

“Then why don't you just talk to me or let me touch you like I want to darlin. Why do you always feel like you need to run from your problems,” he pleads with you. You can see the hurt and pain in his eyes. The pain you caused. 

Fighting back the tears that wanted to leak from your eyes, you shake them away and replace them with the fake smile you mastered, “It’s nothing personal Joel. I’m just really not in the mood. I’m sorry that you are hurting. Maybe you can call that therapist the doctor gave us and set something up if you really wanted too. Lord knows you can really benefit from it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go get ready for my run.

However as you go to push past him, he grabs your arm and pulls you back to him. When you crash into his chest and look up into his eyes, you can see that the sadness has turned into anger. “What the hell does that mean, that I could benefit from it. What is that bullshit?”

You messed up and you know it, but you decided to stand your ground anyways. You were going to die on this hill at this point. “It means that you are always so uptight. You are like a loose canon. Maybe if you spoke to someone about whatever issues you have, you wouldn’t be so angry and annoying all the time.”

That response only makes Joel angrier, “No, no you don’t get to turn this around on me dammit! You knew I was like this when you decided to get with me and date me. Look, I don’t know whatever game you are tryin to pull here is, but it’s not workin. This isn’t healthy. You shut me and everyone else out before you had time to even process everything that has happened. It seems like you do this every time you have a problem. You can’t let everything build up inside of you. You need to let everything out and heal.”

“But then that makes it real Joel!” you shout back. “This isn’t like all the other times. This is way worse. If I let myself go, I may not ever recover. I will have to accept that I am a failure as a person because I couldn’t do the one thing that I was born to do, made to do, and I’m not ready to accept that yet. No, things are better this way trust me. It’s best if we pretend that nothing has happened.”

“Better huh? If that’s what makes you feel better at night darlin. Yes, let’s just pretend nothin has happened. Let’s just spit on the grave of our dead…”

A loud smack fills the air as your hand connects to his cheek, “Don’t you dare say that. That is not what I meant and you know it. Now let me go, I need to go get ready.”

All a stunned Joel can do was watch as you turn and stomp upstairs. You had fought before, but never like this. This was a whole new level. Never once did you let things get this far and resort to violence. 

When you come back downstairs, you find Joel outside by the pool just staring at the water. He has a glass of whiskey in one hand and his other was balled up into a fist. You can also make out the tears that were running down his face as they glistened in the sunlight. This was bad, real bad. All you wanted to do was go out there, take him into your arms and apologize to him. However you did exactly what he called you out on, you ran. You didn’t even bother taking your phone or your keys. You needed to get out of there.

So you run, and run, and run. It feels like you run for miles. You don't even know what time it was when you finally stop at the one place that makes you feel at peace. It was a pond, the pond where you and Joel had your first date, your first kiss, and the first time where you said I love you. Now this may be the pond where everything ends.

Taking a seat on a nearby bench, you stare at the water and the children playing in it, wondering what could have been and what should have been. You think about your future and what would happen now. You don't know how Joel is ever going to forgive you for what you did. You laid your hands on him and you hated yourself for it.

You don't know how long you sat there for, but it was long enough for your lower back to start hurting. As you stand up and start to stretch, you hear someone walking up behind you. “I guess we had the same idea huh darlin,” it was Joel.

“Wha…what are you doing here?”

“I umm…I don’t know. I just drove and ended up here. Do you mind if we sit down?” he asks. You can still hear the emotion, the pain in his voice. “After umm…after you left, I started to drink. After my third glass, I realized that drinking my problems away wasn’t helping. So I got into my car and drove hoping to clear my head. I was also hoping that I would find you or a solution to whatever it is going on between us. I’m really worried about you darlin. I don’t like what is happening to you, to us.”

You look up and you can see the tears forming in his eyes. It wasn’t fair how you were only thinking of yourself. Feeling like only you can feel this way. This was his pain too. He had a right to grieve just as much as you did. It was time to stop being childish and let him in. It was the only way that you were both going to heal. So you hesitantly reach out and take his hand into yours which causes him to look at you in surprise. This was the first time that you actually touched him in two weeks. 

Taking a deep breath, you begin to finally speak what was going on in your crazy mind, “I uhh…I sat here thinking everything, about what could have been. I’ve been doing that a lot lately. I would think about what he or she would have looked like, me or you. I thought about whose eyes they would have, whose personality they would take after, or how it was going to be fun watching them grow. I just…I just…I just miss them so much Joel. It’s not fair!” Finally a week's worth of pent up emotion boiled over and you let everything go. Throwing yourself into his arms and you just cry and cry. 

“I know darlin, it’s not fair. Just let it out,” Joel consoled you, holding you tightly not daring to let you go. “I miss them too, so fucking much,” he cries letting his emotions purge as well. Life was so cruel sometimes and neither of you deserved this. 

“I’m sorry I hit you too. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m such a fucking idiot.”

He pulls you back just enough to take your face into his arms and wipe your tears, “I forgive you. It was an accident. I never should have said what I said too. We both let our emotions get the best of us. But I really do think we need help darlin. We need to see someone. This isn't healthy anymore. Please listen to me, otherwise, otherwise I don't think I can do this anymore.”

You knew it was only a matter of time before your cowardly actions would have consequences, but you would do anything in your power to make it up to him. “I…I will do anything Joel. I can’t lose you too, I just can't,” your cry again. “I’ll call the therapist tomorrow and set everything up. Please just don’t leave me. I don’t think I will survive.”

“I’m not leavin you darlin. As long as we communicate and work things out, we can get through this together. I love you so much, more than you will ever know.”

“I love you too Joel. Can you take me home? I really want to go cuddle in your arms now. If that offer still stands.”

“Yeah I think I can make that happen, but first come here,” he then stands up, pulling you into his arms and into a passionate kiss, which you were very happy to return. It lasts for a while and when you pull apart, there is one more thing that he needs to get off his chest, “I know we need to get past all this first, but I promise you darlin, when you…we’re ready, we can try again. I will give you a baby. We will get the family we always wanted. I’m not saying we can ever replace the one we lost, but…but…”

You place a finger on his lips to stop him, “I know what you meant and I would like that very much, but like you said, when we are ready and when we are healed. We…we will get there right? Will we be okay?”

“Yes darlin, we will be okay. It’s just going to take time. Just promise me you will stop running away and come talk to me, okay.”

“I promise you, baby. Now let’s go home.”

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Part 2 here

Please let me now what you think!

[chenfordspiral]

43, 44, 45, 48, 49, 50

43. If you take/write prompts: what’s your favorite prompt fic that you’ve written? Mh, probably the two I got that turned into this 4x18 AU. It’s honestly one of my favorites I’ve written, and interestingly enough, when I reread it a while back, it felt so foreign because I could barely remember even writing it. But that was fun because it was like I was reading it from an “outsider” POV, if that makes sense. There's two more that I love, as said here, but for once I made a decision and will stick with it. @escapismqueen could fill a book about me and my indecisiveness, and I hope she's proud of me for choosing only one here.

44. If you take/write prompts: do you prefer dialogue or scenario/narrative prompts? Mh, I don’t think I’ve actually gotten many dialogue ones yet, at least not ones that I can remember right off the bat so I’ll say scenario/narrative prompts. 

45. What’s something you’ve improved on since you started writing fic? Oy, this is tough because it often feels like I haven't improved at all? I do like to think I've broadened my vocabulary (also thanks to reading so many fics), but I'm not sure if that makes it onto the page. Maybe I'm less terrified of hitting that post button now than I was a year ago and trust myself more to pull something off that maybe I would've shied away from before. The better question for me would be "what have you not improved on?" lol

48. What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it? I can honestly say that I don’t know the last one I read, it’s been that long. I’ve got about – and no, I’m not joking – 200 AO3 tabs open on my phone with fics I want to read or need to catch up on. Wait! I do know which one! I re-read this one here from Tara because it was the first that came to mind for the chenford fanfic quotes blog. And yes, I absolutely, 100000% recommend it!!! 

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it! Already answered here, but: aside from Little bit of Love, I’m also always (and by that I mean every day) trying to weave my way through an AU that I’ve been working on for… welp, almost a year. Here’s a tiny little sneak peek from what will likely be the first or second chapter. It’s still a long, loooong way from seeing the light of day, though. 

“Geez, Tim. Way to be positive,” Angela sighs. “She won’t like you a whole lot either with that attitude.”  “Great, so case closed. We’re not doing this,” he says and starts to get up from his place opposite of her. “Tim,” she whines and grabs a hold of his arm to keep him from leaving. “Come on. What could it hurt? Just one date. You can see how it goes, and if it’s absolutely horrible and you sit there in silence for two hours, you can go home and call and yell at me for being wrong.”  “Lopez.” “Timothy.” “Stop calling me that.”  “Stop being stubborn.”

Oops, forgot 50 🤦🏼‍♀️ 50. Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about! All I can say is that I love this amazing community on here. The last few months in particular have been so much fun, and I love engaging with you all here. It genuinely feels like a home and I'm so grateful to get to be a part of it.

Thank youuu 🫶🏻

[glilboy]

Ateez reactions to finding you reading smut about them: Hyung line

ive had this idea for awhile and even requested it a few times from other writers but..i felt it was time to write it lol

tws under the cut

warning, this piece of fiction contains mentions of somnophilia, slight dom and sub dynamics, and general explicit topics.

Hongjoong:

You had attempted to stay up waiting for Hongjoong, deciding to reread one of your favorite stories in the mean time. Unfortunately that wasnt enough to keep you awake, you ultimately passing out and your phone tumbling onto the floor.

Hongjoong had a feeling you'd passed out since you didnt message him any "i miss you :(" texts after 11pm so seeing you knocked out on the couch was no surprise. He slowly padded over to you smiling softly, then noticing your phone on the floor and went to pick it up for you. He was never the kind to go through your phone but your smart self had no shut down timer which left the fan fiction on display for him.

He couldnt help but be curious seeing paragraphs of text and decided a little reading would do no harm. As he began to read though he felt his gut sweep, in a good way. He was honestly a little upset until he saw his name but when he read his name it was like all of exhaustion disappeared. Luckily he didn't have work the next day he thought to himself.

Sitting down on the couch with a plan he slowly nudged you awake. "Hi dear," he spoked softly with a smirk.

You rubbed at your bleary eyes and looked up at him, "Oh hi Joongie. Sorry I didn't mean to fall asleep." He smiled even bigger at you.

"Thats fine, it helped me find out something fun," he tucked your hair behind your ear. Still waking up you made a small "huh?" before seeing the phone in his hand.

"Oh..." you mumbled, starting to be awake enough to get it. You finally looked at him straight on and saw his signature devilish grin.

He moved his hand to slowly move up your thigh, giving it a small squeeze which elicted a sigh out of you. "Didn't think you'd read stuff like that Y/N, but I guess you're just full of surprises huh doll," the pet name made you shiver, Hongjoong never having used that one before.

"I'm sorry Joongie," you mumbled into your arm, face now red. His hand moving up to cup your core and grind his hand into it making you whimper softly.

"Oh dont be sorry dolly, just shows me that you really miss me."

Seonghwa:

Saying Seonghwa was caring was an understatement in a way. Despite his busy schedule he made it a point to showed he cared in different ways. One thing he always did was if you left your phone out at all he would put it on the charger for you. Small things!

Today though he had come home earlier than usual while you were taking a quick shower. Seeing your phone on the counter he waltzed over setting his stuff down to throw it on the charger even if it wasn't that low. He noticed you left it on, open to a book he assumed enough.Him being the lovely man he is he wanted to read a bit to see what you liked and possibly buy you a physical copy. Written porn with his name in it though was not what he was expecting.

Seonghwa gulped, setting down your phone with his hands shaking and his face now flushed pink. He took a deep breath and set down his bag, running his fingers through his hair now being surprisingly worked up. A part of him felt embarrassed for being turned on by the writing but at the same time he knew you didn't read it for no reason.

"Hwa! You're home early hello!" You ran up to him giggling, now clean and dressed in some sweats.

"Hey babe, yeah we got let out early cause we learned the new choreography fast enough. They asked us if we wanted to do more vocal practice but none of us did," He laughed, trying to shift his legs to hide his slight erection.

"None of you stay late ever," you giggled sarcastically up at him. "Well, I was gonna take a nap. Do you want to? I'm sure you're tired."

He nodded softly and took your hand walking to your guys bedroom talking about your day. He changed himself into more comfortable clothing then joined you in bed, you curling into him quickly. Once you settled Seonghwa felt he could actually breathe, feeling like a middle schooler just for getting more worked up from having you close. He heard your breath settle which is when he shifted away a bit from you.

"Fuck..." He mumbled, having the space now laying on his back to palm himself over his erection. Looking over at your sleeping face made it worse, the piece you had opened having involved somnophilia. One thing he never had the guts to suggest to you despite having such an open relationship.

He didn't notice your eyes flutter open at the movement. You only just fell asleep so you were in no means in too deep. You decided to play it though, closing your eyes and throwing a leg over his waist as if you were just adjusting in your sleep.

He inhaled a sharp breath and bit his lip now mildly frustrated at the whole situation. Mumbling a fake sleepy "Hwa" you moved to straddle the man hearing a childish sigh escape his lips.

"If you keep moving, I swear to god," He mumbled out loud thinking youre still asleep since you had always been a chaotic sleeper.

"And what will you do about it horny kid," you giggled against his neck. You could feel his body tense.

"Go back to sleep and I'll fuck you like your sick little fantasy, how about that hm?"

yunho:

Rain was beating against the window as you cuddled up on the couch with your phone in hand. Yunho was on the other side of his personal office playing video games. It was a chill day but something in the air was setting you slightly off the edge.

Besides the sweet glances and cheesy smiles thrown at each other, your screen was very much the opposite of innocent pure love. Getting indulged in the story you started to zone in, missing some of his looks making Yunho curious as to what your interest was delved into currently.

"Be right back guys," he said into the mic mischievously. Quickly making his way over he slipped the phone out of your hand, this behavior wouldve typically been fine but because of the contents on your screen you gasped and reached out for your phone. "You doing something naughty or do you just like acting suspicious?" he grinned before looking at your phone.

His face feel reading the paragraph of a particularly nsfw scene. You were now sitting up staring at him wide eyed, "yuyu please oh god its not what you think, i think." Silence filled the room, the only noises being the sound of his running pc and the dull chatter of the other boys.

"Do you read this often?" he said out of hesitation and pure curiosity, almost feeling that he violated your private space. He kind of got the gist of it all right away, thankfully for your sake.

"Not all the time but i mean, you are busy yunho," you tried to softly explain knowing this was odd territory.

"Do you...ever want to try it," he says, getting to the end of the page and looking at you.

"I can't say that..none of them aren't, nice," the air was filled with an awkward energy that could suffocate another person if they came in at such a weird time.

The two of you stood there for a second, until he moved towards you and took your hand. He placed it on his bulge and you sucked a breathe in.

"Take off my pants," he ordered, a strange harsh tone to his voice. For you guys there was never set roles, not any dom or sub dynamic but it wasnt vanilla per say so him speaking like this was new. Besides that, you did as he said and pushed your thumbs under the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down his legs.

Silently he took your hand then sat down on his gaming chair, pulling out his large cock. He slipped on his headphones before looking up at you with a shit eating grin.

"Sit down, i can tell youve been dying too babe."

yeosang:

You were waiting for yeosang to come home after a shorter than usual practice, deciding to pass the time by indulging in your secret world. In the midst of browsing your favorite blogs you didn't hear the door open, this event made you learn not to have headphones in when participating in such activities.

Walking in, Yeosang looked around for you and spotted your figure on the couch. He slowly moved near with a secret motive of scaring you when he glanced at your phone seeing a photo of him paired with a lot of writing. Tilting his head curiously he squinted to read the text, reading along with you until his face flushed.

Sucking in a breath slightly he moved back to the door, playing off him just entering. You noticed his figure walking towards you and sneakily turned off your phone and got up to greet him.

"Hey babe, it's nice to see you in the sunlight," you giggled and wrapped your hands around his waist. You noticed him hesitantly wrapping his arms around you, causing you to pull away.

"Hey, whats up? you seem a bit off?" you pouted and brushed the hair out of his eyes, not catching the little blush.

"Yeah yeah babe, I'm fine. promise," he cleared his throat and pulled away, making your heart sink a bit. He practically completely ignored what you actually said.

"No Yeo, I- did I do something wrong? Or just a long day?" you pried knowing something was up.

Shifting awkwardly on his feet he looked up at you, his hair back in his face. "I um, saw what you were reading."

The color drained from your face, mouth slightly hanging not knowing what to say. You thought he was pissed, was going to leave and break up with you but right when you were about to talk he spoke again.

"C-can we do that?"

A moment of silence passed and you looked up at him, your boyfriend who was typically very soft and gentle in bed. Knowing what you were reading was likely pretty heavy in his book, you became worried. "Yeo, I just read it. It means nothing I don't want to make you uncomforta-"

His lips cut yours off and one hand entangled in your hair, his other guiding you to the wall by your hip. Back flush against the way you pulled away after a moment to see his eyes wide and sweat already beading down his temple.

"I've wanted to do that, just didn't want to scare you dear."

[badboyjuyeon]

me plus you

Pairing: Eric x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: You have to tutor Eric in calculus, but you’re struggling in calculus and Eric doesn’t actually need help.

This was not happening. You rubbed your eyes again as if that was going to change the 0/100 that you received from missing your latest calculus quiz. It didn’t matter how many A’s you got in your past quizzes, a zero would definitely damage your grade. You shoved the test in your bag and made your way towards the teacher’s desk. 

“I missed yesterday’s class so I had no idea that I missed this quiz. Is there any way that I can make this up?” You asked your teacher, hoping that she might spare some pity and excuse this quiz. This was out of character for a straight-A student like yourself and you knew that she had a soft spot towards you. 

“Unfortunately, it was a unit quiz and you missed it. If you read the syllabus, it explicitly states that there are no make-up opportunities...” She began in a stern voice which eventually turned softer when she noticed the panicked look on your face. “...But knowing how you have always done well in this class, I would be willing to offer extra credit if you join the tutoring center.” 

“Consider it done!” You gave your best fake smile as you tried not to think of all the free time you were about to lose. It was your fault, after all, for sleeping in on the day you knew you would have the quiz. Maybe you turned off your alarm because you were struggling in the last few classes and scared to receive a failing grade. Maybe you closed your eyes for “five more minutes” because you didn’t know how to ask for help since you’ve never needed to before. 

As you turned to leave, you noticed Eric Sohn push his way from the back of the classroom. He avoided eye contact with the teacher as if that would make him invisible.

“Eric I would like to meet with you.” Your teacher called out to him as he had one foot out of the doorway. 

“Aww man, I was so close to escaping.” He muttered under his breath. You bit back a smile at his comment and watched him step back into the classroom. You brushed past him as you left to go sign up for the tutoring center. Eric envied you for being able to walk free, while he was going to be stuck getting yelled at. 

“Eric, you’ve been failing all of the recent quizzes. I spoke with your coach and we agreed that you can’t play on the team unless your grades improve.” She shook her head in disappointment. 

Eric could not believe what he was hearing. All his practice would have gone towards nothing. He could feel his dreams of becoming a professional baseball player slip away, all because of this one stupid class. “I promise I’ll do better on the next one, just please let me stay on the team.” 

Your teacher sighed, “You said that the last time. You still haven’t taken up my recommendation of going to the tutoring center. Another peer might be able to help you better. If your next few grades improve after tutoring, then we’ll talk.” 

Eric headed towards the library during his lunch period, which he never would have done under any other circumstance. He preferred to be outside playing basketball with his friends than being cooped up in the library. After signing his name, he sat down on an empty table and waited to be assigned to a tutor. When he tried to look for another familiar name on the tutor list, he noticed yours scribbled neatly with your perfect font-like handwriting. You’ve probably never failed a quiz in your life, let alone the past few quizzes. Eric groaned. How did he let himself slip up in this class? He had a pretty high GPA, but this class was dragging it down from its highest potential. 

He flipped through the notebook he dedicated to calculus and was met with empty pages. If only he didn’t stay up late studying for his other classes, he would have been able to pay attention during this class. But resting his eyes always seemed like a much better option. 

“Eric? Hi, I’ll be your new calc tutor.” Eric looked up to see you pull out the seat across from him. He let out a sigh of relief because you were not a complete stranger and you always got the highest grades. He would be back on the team in no time. He shot you a smile and his eyes formed crescent moons.

You returned his smile but it was only momentary, and it left as quickly as it came. “Can I tell you a secret?” You fidgeted with your fingers. 

Eric was unsure of what to make of your sudden question. He nodded his head to encourage you to continue. 

“I have no idea what’s going on in class.” You admitted to him, though this was not something you told anyone else. 

Eric let out a laugh, you had to be joking. “Don’t you need an A in this class to be a tutor?” 

“Yeah, I just always get my work done on time. My grade doesn’t reflect my understanding of the material but how well I can cheat on all of my assignments.” Upon seeing his confused face, you chose to elaborate. “I usually use photomath, that’s the only way I’ve been passing.” 

Eric’s mouth parted in shock. Why didn’t he think of using that app himself? He also couldn’t believe that you were struggling in that class. “Then I’m not crazy, she just really can’t teach. That’s why I haven’t been understanding anything.” 

“It’s not you, it’s her.” You assured him. “But can I still ‘tutor’ you because that would be the only way to make up for my last quiz?” You hoped that your desperation wasn’t too obvious. 

Eric studied your face, he never had any chance to talk to you this long. Your features were tainted with stress. He could tell that your grades mattered and that he was the only person that could help you. It wouldn’t hurt to spend a little time outside of class with you, it’s not like he had baseball practice to take away his free time. 

“Sure, I’m going to need these lessons to explain why I’m suddenly going to do amazing in this class after I start using photomath.” 

Your face lit up when you heard him accept and it was enough to ensure that he made the right choice. 

“How bad did you do on the last quiz?” Eric still couldn’t believe that you were not the nerd that he thought you were. Teachers always used your work for examples of model work and that was the only impression he had of you prior to this tutor session.

“I got a 0 because I missed class that day.” You looked away in embarrassment. The bright red 0 was still easily visible on your crumpled-up test. 

Eric placed his test marked with 65/100 next to yours. “Well I didn’t pass even though I was in class, so we can try to work on it together.”

You flipped to the chapter that the quiz was on and turned the textbook sideways so that he could also see. The library was mainly empty save for you two because the weather was nice and everyone would much rather go outside for lunch. Your table was positioned right near the window, and Eric had the perfect view of all of his friends playing baseball on the school field. He could have been there if he didn’t slack off this bad. 

No matter how many times you read the page, you still couldn’t quite get the concept down. No other class had you stuck like this one. While you were stuck rereading, Eric started attempting the first problem on his quiz. He finished in a matter of seconds and you took out photomath, a calculator app that solves literally everything, to check if it’s the same answer. 

You couldn’t hide the look of shock on your face when the answer on your screen matched the one on his paper. “Eric I didn’t know that you were a genius. You have to teach me how to do this.” 

Eric’s face also matched yours as he was also surprised at himself. He never even thought to attempt the problems before. 

“I don’t really know what I did.” He confessed but tried to walk you through his thought process. Hearing him explain the steps allowed you to think of the problem in an entirely different way and it was the only thing you needed to understand how to solve it. Your face still expressed the initial shock, but now you felt more impressed than surprised. 

Eric laughed at the irony, here he was tutoring you instead of the other way around. “I’ll have you know that just because I’m a sports guy doesn’t mean that I’m an airhead.” 

“And having A’s doesn’t exactly mean that I’m a nerd. I knew you weren’t an airhead, but sleeping during class didn’t exactly make you look the smartest.” You teased him, before asking him the real question that was plaguing your mind. “You picked it up so quickly, why did you fail the last few quizzes?” 

He switched his gaze from the paper to look straight into your eyes. “Honestly, I didn’t have any motivation to actually do the quizzes. I thought that I was screwed since I kept sleeping during class. And I have to sacrifice some classes to do better in the rest.” He answered, before moving on to the next problem. 

With him facing towards the paper, you took note of his perfect side profile. His eyebrows were furrowed as he thought about how to solve the question. Wow, his jawline was sharp and you were getting sidetracked.

Using his method, you were able to breeze through the problems. You were the type of student to follow the book, word for word, while Eric was the opposite. He was carefree and just did what he felt like, and it worked. You would’ve never thought to experiment like he did but it was exactly what you needed to do. 

“Wait I don’t get how to do these last few problems.” He interrupted you from your thoughts and you leaned closer to get a better view of the problem. You checked the steps to solve the problem from photomath and figured out how to solve it. 

While you were explaining the problem to him, Eric suddenly became aware of the short proximity between the two of you. His eyes traced your features and they subconsciously drifted towards your lips. He wondered whether they felt as soft as they looked, in a totally platonic way, of course. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. 

“That’s why you use this- Eric? Were you even listening?” You turned to face him after he stopped being responsive. Eric felt the blood rush to his cheeks. He quickly scanned the paper and pretended that he was paying attention all along. “Yeah I was listening, I understand it.” 

You spent the rest of the period working together to get through the quiz. You two were in your own world and you wouldn’t have noticed how much time went by if the library didn’t become loud, signaling the end of the period, as students transitioned between classes. The period never felt this short. 

“We are quite the team,” Eric said as you packed up your things. 

“Surprisingly, we are. Let’s meet up again at the same time next week.” You waved at him and rushed to get to your next class. 

“See you in class.” Eric watched as you left the library and looked forward to the next time he would see you.

Upon entering calculus class the next day, Eric searched for your face. He found you sitting in your usual seat near the window. Your head was down on the desk, unaware that he was approaching you. 

“Is this seat taken?” You lifted your head to see Eric gesturing to the seat next to you. You shook your head, confused as to why he decided to sit next to you instead of the back of the classroom. 

You didn’t have to worry about saving a seat for a friend because calculus was the one class that you didn’t share with any friends. You didn’t realize it until now but none of the boys you saw Eric hang out with were in this class either. At least you two would have each other now.

“Isn’t it easier to sleep in the back of the classroom?” You questioned.

“It is, but it's easier to cheat- I mean learn next to you.” He said with a cheeky grin. 

Your teacher walked in, cutting off your small talk. 

You took out your calculus textbook and notebook while you waited for the teacher to begin. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Eric scribble something on the last page of his notebook. When the teacher turned around to write on the chalkboard, he slid his notebook over to you and tapped you. 

i forgot my textbook in my locker, can i look over on yours? 

You pushed your textbook towards him and positioned it in between you two. He mouthed a quick “thanks.” 

Your teacher began explaining the new concept and you almost forgot about Eric’s presence next to you as you copied down everything that was on the board. 

“Wait, is that a four or a nine?” You whispered, trying to decipher the messy handwriting. When you heard no response from Eric, you turned to look at him for the first time since class had started. Eric’s head was resting on the palm of his hand and his eyes were closed shut. He did not just leave you to fend for yourself. You nudged his hand and his head fell onto the desk with a loud thud. 

Your teacher briefly turned around to call out whoever was interrupting her lesson but you resumed writing and Eric pretended to read the textbook page extremely closely. After she faced the board again, Eric raised his eyebrows at you, as if to ask why you disrupted his sleep. Not wanting to draw attention again, you passed him a note.

pay attention if you want the teacher to like you, trust me it works.

easier said than done, teacher’s pet.

Eric waited for you to read his note before he stuck his tongue out at you. 

You were going to deny being the teacher’s pet when you were interrupted by Hyunjae, who sat on your other side. “Can you help me with number 1?”

“Uh sure.” You responded, despite wanting to work with Eric. You glanced back at Eric, but he began working on the new problem set by himself. 

Though Eric’s eyes were focused on the paper in front of him, his ears couldn’t help but listen to your conversation with Hyunjae.  

“You’re a lifesaver, thank you so much. Can I pay you back with bubble tea after school?” Hyunjae gave you a flirtatious smile. 

Eric’s grip on his pen tightened. He convinced himself that he was only annoyed because he didn’t know how to solve the problem.

“I would never say no to free bubble tea.” You checked to see if Eric was listening from your peripheral vision once again, but he seemed to be disinterested. You weren’t sure why you kept looking back at Eric, maybe you wanted to see if he would object. Or maybe you wanted him to object. But he made no such move to stop you. 

Hyunjae beamed. “Great, let’s meet up after class. And maybe we can study for the next test together?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Were you just trying to bribe me with bubble tea?”

Eric’s head was facing downwards as he tried to hide his feelings of betrayal. The nerve Hyunjae had to steal his study partner. 

“And if I was?” Hyunjae challenged.

“That was a smart way to bribe me, you might not even need to study with how smart you are.” You answered. 

Eric slammed his pen down, causing you and Hyunjae to look at him. 

“Oops, it slipped.” He blurted, feeling satisfied because he interrupted Hyunjae. 

The bell rang and you rushed to copy down the homework into your planner. 

“Do you want to work on the homework together?” Eric suggested while packing up his things. “I didn’t know how to do the third set of problems.” He added in, hoping that it would convince you to work together. 

“I don’t know, I’m in high demand these days. Everyone wants to study with me.” You flaunted. Of course you would study with him, you just wanted to make him work for it. Eric rushed to follow you out of the classroom.

“Pretty please.” He pouted and gave you puppy eyes. You snorted at his attempt of acting cute, which he didn’t even need to do since he was naturally cute. 

“Okay fine, but only if you stop doing that hideous face.” You stopped to open your locker. 

Eric leaned on the locker next to yours and crossed his arms. “No one can resist this sexy face.” 

“Yeah okay.” You replied in a sarcastic tone, though you secretly agreed with him. You took a pen out of your locker and grabbed his hand. Eric held his breath and watched to see what you would do next. You wrote your phone number on the palm of his hand. “Text me. Or facetime me, whatever works for you.” You shut your locker and headed to your next class.

Eric stared at your number on his hand and smiled to himself, his heart still racing from when you touched him. 

While you walked away, you felt proud that you were able to pull that move off. But then the color drained from your face. You never said what time. The power rested entirely on Eric and when he decided to contact you. That means that you would have to wait and possibly be camera-ready all day. 

As soon as Eric got home from school, he entered your phone number and saved your contact. He wondered whether he would seem too eager if he texted you right away. You were probably still studying with Hyunjae. Eric scoffed as he thought about how Hyunjae was there instead of him. 

You stared at the black screen on your phone. Tapping on it for the millionth time, the screen read 8:15 pm. Why didn’t you specify a time? You dived for your phone every time you saw your phone light up with a notification. 

Was he even going to facetime you? You glanced around your room in horror. You weren’t able to fix it when you rushed out of the house this morning. You could not let Eric see this mess. You got to work fixing your room while you waited for him to text you. Hearing the familiar vibration, you reached for your phone, hoping it wasn’t another spam email. 

hey, it’s eric. are you free to ft and work on the hw rn? 

Eric sent the text and threw his phone on the bed. He had spent 15 minutes debating whether his text was too casual. Hugging his pillow, he anxiously waited for you to respond. 

yea i’m free

You checked your room once again to see if anything was out of place. Then you saw your reflection in the mirror. You were so caught up in fixing your room, you forgot to fix your appearance. You quickly applied something on your lips so you wouldn’t look too bad. 

After sitting down in front of a lamp so you would have optimal lighting, you picked up his facetime call. 

“Hey.” You felt your breath hitch in your throat. His hair was still wet from the shower he took just earlier. You didn’t think it was possible for him to get any hotter. 

“So how was your date with Hyunjae.” He didn’t even try to hide the bitterness in his tone. Wow, real smooth Eric. He should’ve waited a bit longer to bring it up, but he couldn’t help it. 

You laughed at his choice of a conversation starter. “It wasn’t a date, and it was actually very fun. Maybe I need to start charging you for my services. I’ll only accept payment with bubble tea from now on.” 

“Spending quality time with me is your payment.” He replied with a smug look on his face.

You shook your head. “That is not enough, I fear.” 

Eric crossed his arms and tried to look offended. “I’ll hang up right now then.” 

“Need I remind you that you were the one that begged me to help you today?” You spoke matter-of-factly. “But if you must leave, go. I’m very busy you know.” 

“Busy studying with other guys? I thought we had something special.” He dramatically clutched his heart. 

“You wish, you are yet another one of my side hoes.” 

“Your main hoe being boba?” He raised an eyebrow.

You paused to think of a witty response. “It seems you are more interested in my love life than those calculus problems you needed help with.” 

“Those problems can wait.” He shrugged his shoulders. 

“Fine, how about this? For every problem you get correct, you can ask me a question and I’ll answer it honestly.” You proposed. 

Eric smiled widely. “I like how you think. And what happens if I get them wrong?” 

“Then I get to ask you a question.” You replied. 

“You won’t be able to ask me any questions.” His cockiness was apparent from how confidently he spoke. “The first solution is 5.” 

Checking the answer to the first problem, you confirmed that it was 5.

“Since this is about your love life, do you have a boyfriend?” He asked, desperately wanting you to say no. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Yes, I do have one.” You watched for Eric’s reaction. Eric’s smile dropped for a split second as he registered what you said. 

“Oh really? Who? Do I know him?” He interrogated, completely dropping his previous act. 

You felt amused watching him squirm. “That’s three other problems you have to get right.” 

To your surprise, Eric continued to get the next three problems correct.

“So who is your boyfriend?” He phrased carefully.

“Hyunjae.” You said with a straight face.

Eric’s eyes grew 10 times the size they were. “Really?”

“Nah, I’m just playing. I don’t have a boyfriend.” You finally revealed the truth. 

That definitely made Eric happier than he’d like to admit. 

“You just made me waste two questions.” He emphasized by holding up two fingers. 

“Did you even need help with those problems Eric?” 

“Yes...but I figured them all out while you were flirting with Hyunjae.” He looked away from the screen. 

“I was not flirting with Hyunjae.” You lied. You did flirt a little, but that was only because you wanted to see if Eric got jealous. 

Eric rolled his eyes, not believing you. “Sure you weren’t.” 

“You have not seen me flirt, believe me, you would know.” You told him honestly. If you were going to flirt with anyone, it would be him. 

Eric’s smile returned once again. “I look forward to seeing that.” 

You and Eric fell into a routine where you met up every week to study calculus. And then facetimed after school. And then texted at night. You would work together during class, and Eric would get annoyed every time Hyunjae tried to join. 

You and Eric were prepared for the next calculus quiz and your efforts paid off. As soon as Eric got his quiz back, his first thought was to see the look on your face when he told you his grade.

At the end of class, Eric proudly dangled his quiz in front of your face, he couldn’t contain the smile on his face. 

You saw a large A on the top of the first page and you pulled him into a hug. Before you could regret acting so spontaneously, Eric hugged you back just as tightly. This was the first time you both hugged, but it felt so comforting and you didn’t want to let go. “Wow I’m so proud of you, I can’t believe you’re scoring higher than me.” You said when you finally pulled away.

“I’m coming for your throne.” Eric winked at you.

After consistently doing well in the classwork, Eric realized that he didn’t need help anymore. The tutoring sessions eventually became an excuse to meet you. 

Eric pointed at a problem, his eyes trained on yours, “Can you explain this to me?” 

“Eric, you literally taught me how to solve this.” You giggled.

“Oh, did I? Um...well I forgot. Explain it to me again?” You could never resist Eric’s puppy-dog eyes. The more time you spent with him, the more you realized how cute he was. 

“Graph this equation.” Eric had randomly said one day while you were studying at the library. 

You stared at the equation he wrote and looked back at him with confusion. “How is this relevant to calculus?”

“Just do it.” He whined. 

You reached for your graphing calculator and entered the equation. 

Staring at the shape the equation produced, you were pleasantly surprised to see that it resembled...“A heart?” 

You looked up to see Eric grinning from ear-to-ear, clearly proud that he was able to find this equation.

“Very cute Eric. This is why you urgently needed to meet up today?” You raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, that and I needed to talk to you about something else. My coach told me that the improvement in my grades is enough for me to rejoin the team.” Eric started, unsure of whether he should tell you that he didn’t need tutoring anymore. 

“Oh really? That’s great news!” You kept your eyes focused on the paper. You knew that him joining the team would mean your tutoring sessions would have to come to an end soon. “I’m guessing you won’t have time to study anymore.”

Eric knew that he wanted to see you every day, but he didn’t want to pretend that he only wanted to meet you under the pretense of studying. He took a deep breath before speaking. You brought your eyes to meet his when you realized that something must have been up. Eric was never quiet for this long. 

“I was wondering if you wanted to continue meeting up outside of school hours, just us two,” Eric asked hesitantly, waiting for your response. 

Your eyes widened. Was he asking you out? It’s not a complete reach because you two have been spending a lot of time “studying.” You were afraid that you were taking his words in the wrong way. “You want to study outside?” 

“Oh...no, no studying. It would just be us meeting up outside, no calculus.” He looked at the floor. 

“Eric Sohn, are you asking me out on a date?” You asked him. 

“Only if you’re comfortable with that. I’ve liked you for a while and I didn’t really need help anymore but I still want to see you often. I understand if you don-”

You cut off his rambling with a kiss. You resisted the urge to laugh at how red his ears were when you pulled away. “I like you too. Finally you can buy me my long-deserved boba.” 

[nameless-shrimp]

EPISODE TWO || A CERTAIN BOMB

PAIRING: Osamu Dazai x F!Reader

PRONOUNS: she/her, f!reader

TYPE: story

WARNINGS: Dazai's suicide references, swearing

AUTHOR'S NOTES: woo! a continuation of this story, yay! let's see how well this goes! i hope that you guys enjoy it because don't we all wish that we could be a part of the bsd world? hehe.

BEFORE READING:

➵ The story of Bungo Stray Dogs belongs to Kafka Asagiri.

➵ Here is the STORY MASTERLIST.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

“What are you reading?”

Dazai looked at Atsushi for a split second before he turned the pages of his book. His eyes glanced over some of the words, fingers trailing along the worn-out pages. “A good book,” he responded.

“I’m surprised you can still read even when it’s this dark out,” Atsushi commented.

“I have excellent night-time vision. Besides, I've read it before. I know everything that happens.”

“That’s funny,” Atsushi shyly chuckled. “Then why are you reading it again?”

Dazai felt a faint smile slowly grow on his lips. “Because a good book is always a good book, no matter how many times you’ve read it.”

“I see. Do you read often?”

“Sure,” Dazai kept that smile on his face and suddenly, it grew into a larger one as he continued to speak, “I had someone in my past give me these mystery books. Every time I reread them, I get reminded of that person.”

“Oh…” Atsushi murmured. “Was it a lover?”

‘Perhaps,’ Dazai thought, fighting back a smile growing on his lips. He wanted you to be his lover, and it was obvious that he wanted to be with you ever since your friendship grew with him from the very beginning. Never did he think that late-night diner visits and stargazing would’ve been so comforting—especially with the presence of your existence close to his.

Your existence; he pondered about when he thought would’ve been the best time to come pay you a visit at the apartment you stayed at, and he regretted deleting your contact information, but if there was a chance that he’d get to gaze into your glimmering eyes once more, he wasn’t going to hesitate on that chance to see you once again.

“I prefer not to say,” Dazai sighed, turning the page.

“I see.”

When Dazai sat on the wooden box as the moonlight kissed his skin, he skimmed through the last few words on the page before looking back at Atsushi, who was hugging his knees as a distressed look was on his face. “Dazai,” Atsushi said, breaking the silence. “Do you think the tiger will really be able to track me down here?”

“I’m sure of it,” Dazai responded, not breaking eye contact with the book in his hands. Atsushi gasped in fear before Dazai could reply with a sigh. “Don’t worry. When it comes, it’ll be no match for me. I may not look tough but I’m with the agency for a good reason.”

“I admire your confidence,” Atsushi murmured shyly. “Actually, I’m kind of jealous. They called me a good-for-nothing at the orphanage. Now, I don’t know where to sleep tonight or where to go.”

Dazai eyed Atsushi who began hiding his face further into his knees and Dazai only hummed in response. “I see,” Dazai responded.

“No one would care if I died in a ditch somewhere. Yeah—maybe I would be better off getting eaten by a tiger.”

Dazai stared blankly away from his book, suddenly forgetting what the scene was even happening since he was too busy lost in his own thoughts. He understood Atsushi and how the orphan felt with his emotions all too well. It wasn’t new to Dazai; as a matter of fact, it only seemed as if Atsushi needed someone that would accompany him through the difficult parts of life—and Dazai had that. Not only with Odasaku, but he suddenly had the faint image of your face drawn in his head.

It wasn’t long until Dazai had taken care of the situation quickly, where Atsushi had transformed into the weretiger himself and then with a lot of jumps and tricks, Dazai was able to unleash his ability to nullify Atsushi’s ability quickly. This led to a warehouse filled with broken wooden boxes and piles of random objects scattered around, creating a large mess.

Eventually, Kunikida came in with Dazai’s other colleagues, where they were all commenting on his idiocy for wanting to bring Atsushi into the agency. Only Dazai could smile, hoping that with the help of him bringing Atsushi onboard with the others, perhaps that the younger man would be able to find a home with the agency. And Dazai looked up at the night sky, staring at the bright moon and the stars glistened across the dark, midnight hues; he ignored Kunikida bickering at him and only smiled to himself.

For some reason, he decided to talk to the moon in his head that night; maybe, someone would be able to listen and support him in making amends to redeem himself.

❀ - ❀ - ❀

With a bouquet of flowers in his hands as his eyes trailed down to the soft petals, he held back a grunt to himself as he felt himself trembling. Perhaps surprising you after two years wasn’t the best move, and there he was—standing in front of your apartment door, a hand held high to knock on the wood and he let out a breath.

Part of him cursed himself deep down for hiding himself away from you for so long, but he had a hunch that you’d understand him and that you would be waiting for him. Though he wasn’t sure why held on tight to such a fantasy—for a young woman that he was so attracted to and had fallen in love with as their friendship developed into something more and he couldn’t receive that just yet around that time, but for some reason, Dazai felt ready.

Three knocks on your door were all it took.

He clenched his grip on the bouquet of flowers; assorted colors of white roses with red ones and he let out a deep breath, hoping that his partner wouldn’t scold him for taking a few bucks out of his wallet. (Dazai would expect an angry phone call from him later, but that wasn’t the point.)

The door swung open and his breath hitched.

Instead of you, there laid another woman with messy hair and an irritated look painted on her features—she was a bit on the older-looking side and he could practically feel the death glare eating him alive. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Why, hello there, miss!” Dazai chirped; his clear, out-of-the-blue chirpy tone caused the stranger in front of him to groan. He furrowed his eyebrows at that. “I’m looking for—”

“Not here,” the lady responded, a grouchy tone driven all over her voice. “Look somewhere else, buddy.”

“Wait—” Dazai stopped the door from slamming in front of his face with his foot and he earned a groan from the female stranger in front of him. The flowers in his hand were withering quickly, desperate in need of water, but his heart began to wither along with the petals as well. “I’m looking for someone named Y/N. She used to live here.”

“Not anymore, now leave me alone!”

Dazai stepped back and he was met with a closed door in front of his face, the noise of the door slamming rang his ears, and then looked down at the flowers, sighing deeply to himself.

He regretted not visiting you sooner, or perhaps, he shouldn’t have left to begin with. As Dazai glanced down at the petals, he kept a saddening look on his face and then let out a deep breath, continuing to pluck random petals off the flowers as he walked down the hallway.

Once he reached the elevator and waited for the doors to open, he looked at the flowers that were withering quickly. ‘I could’ve gotten better flowers, but that doesn’t matter,’ he thought to himself, before shaking his head and dropping the bouquet to the floor.

“Flowers, huh,” he murmured to himself.

Withering to death so easily; oh how he envied it.

❀ - ❀ - ❀

You watched the black-haired man walk around you, eyeing you as he scoffed to himself before you scrunched up your nose at him. He didn’t bother saying anything to you until he coughed into his fist furiously, placing a palm on the wooden table in front of him.

“You’re working yourself too hard,” you noted, keeping your arms crossed.

“I am fine.” He argued, continuing to cough into his fist.

“Akutagawa.”

“I promise you I am fine,” he angrily responded, now gripping on the edge of the table.

You sighed, fully aware of how stubborn this young man was when it came to testing his strength. After all this time, being in the Port Mafia, and having to shadow Akutagawa, part of you wondered if he had respect for you considering that Mori had taken a liking to you immediately—and for some reason, you were praised by him for God knows what, and maybe it had to be because of your ability, though you always shrugged off the thought and never dwelled into it as much.

The young man in black continued to cough before he patted his forehead, trying to wipe off the sweat. “Y/N, you don’t have to watch over me all the time,” Akutagawa said, rolling his head around as he stretched out his arms.

You shook your head before placing a palm on his shoulder and he softened his stiff posture at the touch. “I am supposed to be the future executive of the Port Mafia after all,” you responded, trying to not gag at the thought. “And I am going to tell you once again that you need to stop acting like you are not worthy of your ability. You’re already strong enough, and your goal is to become better and stronger but you cannot do that if you cling onto the past,” you spoke, furrowing your eyebrows at him. “Not make things more difficult than they already are.”

“I’m not doing anything wrong,” Akutagawa shook his head before placing a fist to his mouth, clearly holding back coughs.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard, yet you’re strong enough,” you sternly said, knitting your eyebrows together in frustration. “Stop that.”

“I will not stop proving my strength.”

“You told me several times, maybe like eight times—” you commented, holding out eight fingers with your hands as Akutagawa spat on the floor. “—that you have been trying to prove your strength to an ex-executive that does not have any relationship to the Port Mafia anymore. Why do you cling onto that?”

Akutagawa grunted loudly, gripping the edge of the table harder. “I am not! I am trying to prove my str—”

“You are strong enough,” you sighed deeply, running a hand through your hair. “Forget it. No matter how many times I tell you to stop being too hard on yourself, you never listen.”

“I am not trying to talk back to my superior but—” he clicked his tongue. You raised an eyebrow. ‘What now?’ you thought. “You are so different now.”

‘Interesting.’ “What do you mean by that?”

“When Chuuya brought you in, you had that fish-out-of-water look,” Akutagawa explained, straightening his posture as he made eye contact with you. “You experienced a whole wave of culture shock. The Port Mafia is so different from the life you had before.”

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged your shoulders. “I had an actual life and was living like a normal person in Yokohama before I was brought in here because of Chuuya.”

“And you came for what reason? Because you were going to lose your home?” He chuckled despite the lack of a smile on his lips.

You sighed. “I guess I was just so desperate for a home,” you said sarcastically, a faint smile hinted as you turned away from him. “Enough about me.”

“As you wish,” he sighed, turning to face you with his emotionless eyes sinking into your own. “So, are we set for tomorrow’s plan?”

You sighed, placing a palm on the back of your neck. “Yeah, about that, I think I’ll let Higuchi take care of everything.”

“You are always hiding from every mission that the boss sends you on or whatever orders you have, you find a way to hide away from them,” Akutagawa noted, scrunching up his nose in frustration. “And yet you tell me not to make things more difficult but here you are.”

You closed your eyes and deeply sighed. “I was promised that I did not have to affiliate myself with anything major outside of the Port Mafia headquarters. I take care of small tasks and that is it,” you turned to face him and opened your eyes, fighting back an uncomfortable look. “Having Higuchi disguise herself to get help from the Agency is already risky. You will get caught no matter what.”

“What matters is that we catch the Weretiger.”

“Yes, I am aware,” you sighed. “But something tells me you will get caught.”

“If you do not want to assist us in the mission then you might as well not call yourself a future executive.”

You glared at him; a deafening stare that made your blood boil. “I have no wish to be a future executive for the Port Mafia.”

“I understand that you are assigned as my superior and the boss wants to place you up as the executive, but I also don’t understand,” Akutagawa retorted, tilting his head down. “You should be grateful and proud to be honored with such positions—considering your given ability.”

“I feel the complete opposite,” you said, turning away from him. “You know, I did not expect to fall into the hands of the Port Mafia, but here I am now.”

“That’s just silly, you knew what was coming once Chuuya took you in.”

“Had I known he was dragging me to the Port Mafia,” you wailed your hands out in frustration. “I would’ve told the gravity idiot to go find his own path to the diner that night.”

“Exactly how close are you with Chuuya Nakahara?”

You raised your eyebrows and then sat on the question for a moment. Despite your anger and dislike for the Port Mafia, you couldn’t help but grow a strong bond with the orange-haired man, and the thought of his irritating comments and the constant teasing you pushed upon him made your heart lighten up; at least there was some sort of joy to the darkening organization.

And Chuuya brought that in, no matter how much he snarled at you for taking his hats or that you’d drink all of the wine in the bottle, not offering to leave him some, you smiled at the thought of the growing, close relationship you built with him; it was similar to someone you were close with in the past—a specific brown-haired man, though Chuuya slowly grew to be someone that you could rely on.

Family; something you never had.

Besides Dazai, and God forbid that you were trying to go through a day without thinking about this man in your head. However, he walked out on you a long time ago, and you knew that you had to keep it in the past. Though you could never hate him for it since Dazai had his own personal reasons and—and—and now was not the time to think about the first man you fell in love with.

“Close enough,” you responded and shook your head. “Moving on, I will not partake in the mission with Higuchi tomorrow.”

“But Y/N,” Akutagawa raised his voice, taking a few steps towards you. “Your ability is strong enough to take out the Armed Detective Agency—you do have the power to fight. Yet you choose not to.”

“The moment I stepped foot in this place, I knew I made the oath to never kill anyone and I still stand by that,” you spoke in an emotionless tone. “I will keep it that way.”

Akutagawa scoffed before he sighed in defeat. “As you wish. You should at least walk Higuchi to the Armed Detective Agency tomorrow.”

You purse your lips and shrug. “Fine, maybe—I’ll see if I feel like it.”

As you turned on your heel, you felt his stare stab you from behind and he coughed loudly. “Y/N,” you turned your head to face him, his stare softening as he made eye contact with you. “In regards to what you said earlier, do you believe I am strong enough?”

You blinked at him. “Yes. So stop pushing yourself too hard.”

“I will not stop proving my strength for someone in the past.”

You shook your head. “No one tells me anything, not even Mori,” you sighed deeply, rubbing the back of your neck. “Tell me. Who was the name of your previous superior? The one that was supposedly an ex-executive of the Port Mafia.”

Akutagawa continued to stare at you before he turned away, not responding to your question. You clicked your tongue and cocked your head to the side, not bothering to ask it again once you made your exit out of the room.

❀ - ❀ - ❀

The breeze was soothing to you, not only because you were able to get away from the sickening scent of cigarettes that lingered within the Port Mafia headquarters, but you were able to face the sunlight radiating from the sky as it kissed onto your skin. Sighing, you kept your head down while you put your hood up, not wanting to make any social interaction.

You twirled with a small pocket knife in the pockets of your sweatshirt—just a bad habit of fidgeting, really—and you hummed to yourself a soft tune. Your mind wandered in its usual thoughts as the streets of Yokohama continued to look the same on its daily routine; the usual bikers on the sidewalks and travelers with shopping bags around their wrists. They all looked like normal people, having simple, normal lives.

Part of you wanted all of that back; to work a simple job that got you far enough to be on your own and the missing touch was doing the domestic chores. Never have you thought that glancing up at a grocery store down the street gave you nostalgia; your life has changed now, to watching bloodshed in front of your own eyes and the endless ruth of assassinations that were ordered to you but you rarely fell through with it since you refused to fall into the orders of killing another person.

You kept your hands in your pockets as you walked past several strangers. Some people wore casual clothes, and you barely focused your attention on anybody. You didn’t take notice of anyone’s faces since your head was kept down, and you ran into somebody on the street, nearly tripping on your own two feet.

All you saw was the light tan color of a trench coat before you murmured a soft apology as you continued to walk further down the road, not wanting to look back. ‘God, I need a nap’, you thought to yourself, making your way down the block, and with a sharp turn, you found yourself running into someone again.

Except for this time, a liquid was spilled on your sweatshirt and you noticed a man fall on the sidewalk in front of you.

“Oh God,” you murmured, eyeing the empty cups that were rolling on the concrete and you ignored the gazes of other strangers glancing at the both of you. “I’m sorry, are you—”

“Hey!” His squinty eyes made contact with yours as he held a fist up in the air. “What’s the big idea, huh?! I had a whole tray of milkshakes with me and now they’re all gone!”

“I’m sorry!” You apologized, reaching your hand out to him and he hesitated, but he tightened his lips and then grabbed ahold of your hand as you helped him up. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No, but my milkshakes are!” He huffed in annoyance, turning away from you as he looked down at the ground and picked up his messenger bag and he held it close to his chest. “I’m just glad you didn’t get anything spilled on my precious detective gear.”

You raised your eyebrow in confusion. “P-Precious detective… gear?”

“That’s right!” He chirped—and did his mood suddenly change so quickly? “You’re speaking to the greatest detective in Yokohama!”

“I see…” you murmured. “I’m sorry about your milk—”

“Don’t you wanna question my detective ability?! C’mon, you must be a little bit interested.”

“I actually don’t care, but—”

“How can you not?!” He shouted out loud before scratching his head and he held his hands out to you. “You’re not leaving my presence until you get me new milkshakes!”

You groaned internally and sighed. Because this man had a point, you did run into him—accidentally—and you shrugged your shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’ll offer to pay you for all of the spilled milkshakes.”

“That’s right!” He had a large smile on his face as he pointed his index finger at you.

You felt your eyes twitch. ‘What the hell is wrong with this guy?’ you thought to yourself.

It didn’t take long for the stranger to grab his bag and escort you to the nearest ice cream shop that he went to. He went on and on about being a great detective and that he was able to solve cases in less than a minute, and you wondered if he was letting his ego get in the way or that he actually had a gift that you thought about.

It took about two blocks and not tripping over small dogs to finally make your way to the ice cream shop; you stood out like a sore thumb with your lazy attire since the whole shop was decorated in a white and pastel pink atmosphere. You kept your face hidden in your hood as you let the stranger babble on about how you spilled his drinks from earlier and that he needed to reorder all of them again.

‘I meet the weirdest men in my life,’ you thought.

After you insisted on carrying the drink tray of milkshakes, you left the shop with the man that was holding two milkshakes in his hand. He turned to you with a smile and then he held out one of them.

“This is for you,” he smiled cheekily.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Why are you giving me one? Did you forget that I was the one that spilled all of them from before?”

“Just a little treat I wanted to give you,” he kept that smile on his face and you exchanged the drink tray with the milkshake in his hand. You took a sip, overwhelmed by the strong flavor and the sugary taste was heavenly.

“Thanks,” you returned a smile. “I—uh, I’m sorry for the trouble from earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured into the straw of his drink. “Now, would you like to see these snazzy detective skills?”

You weren’t sure who this person really was except that he couldn’t stop talking about that he was a detective and you chuckled loudly, already giving in to his act. “Alright, Mister Detective, show me what you got,” you smiled at him.

“Sweet!” He cheered loudly. “But first you gotta walk me to my job.”

“Ha?” You quirked a brow.

“I have no idea how to get there.”

“You tell me you’re a detective yet you can’t find your way back to work?”

“Hey!” He retorted, raising his voice in defense—though, the way he sounded made you cackle out loud, which frustrated him more. “I get lost with these train lines and bus stops! So you better help me find my way back!”

You didn’t hesitate to help him find a taxi and then you both found your way to his destination. You realized that he bought all the milkshakes for himself which caused you to look at him with an odd stare and this stranger could only keep his cheeky smile at you the entire ride.

After a few minutes, he had already finished two milkshakes and then got scolded by the driver for leaving a mess in the car. (Part of you tried to interfere but the whole situation was too musing for you to cut in—especially when the sweet-loving stranger with the brown hat was laughing off every angry statement from the driver.)

You were dropped off near a familiar street, one that reminded you of when Chuuya had taken you near the Agency in the past from previous missions that you assisted him on (and by assist—you basically had him do all the gravity work while he yelled at you for being no help though you cheered him on that you were there for mental support.)

‘Wait…’ you straightened up your posture in your seat, looking down the street to see large buildings nearly merged together, and a tall building caught your attention from its light brown architecture and you gulped. ‘Is this the—’

“Hey, thanks for screaming at me, driver!” The man next to you kept his squinted eyes locked on you as he darted out of the car and you slowly threw your feet out of the car. You apologized numerous times for the empty milkshake cups in the car and then tipped the driver more than you really needed to before he bolted off.

You gulped and turned around, keeping your head deep in your hood. “I—um, it was nice to meet you,” you said, shrugging your shoulders nervously. You never really went near the Agency’s building unless you had been ordered to and you tended to avoid it just to get out of trouble—though it wasn’t like your presence in the Port Mafia should’ve been known to the Agency, anyway.

Mori guaranteed that you would remain hidden unless you were necessary for some missions. Though you mostly offered to tag along those missions to annoy Chuuya, which for some reason, you found it hilarious—but you were interrupted with your thoughts as you heard a clearing throat next to you.

“Thanks for accompanying me,” the stranger kept his eyes squinted at you and he grinned widely to himself before reaching his hand into one of his pockets.

“You could’ve taken your own taxi back, you know?” You murmured, looking away.

He held up a pair of glasses in his hands and then placed them on the bridge of his nose. He remained quiet for a moment before laughing out loud at you—and what the hell was his problem? Because he eyed you so suspiciously for a moment until he let out a boisterous laugh that caught you off guard.

“Nah, I enjoyed your company,” he smiled widely. “I wanna hang out with you again sometime.”

You furrowed your eyes at him. “You—you do?”

“Sure. It was fun, Y/N.”

Your eyes widened. You realized that you didn’t even speak of your name once to him at all or even introduced yourself to him, which earned you a gulp after the thought. “How—how did you—”

“Greatest detective of all time, remember?” He chuckled, tilting his head as you were able to see the green eyes that had a light of glimmer beneath his glasses; a satisfied smirk grew on his face. “I also know what you are and that you have an ability, Y/N.”

You shook your head. Nice, out of all situations to be in, this was not on your agenda. “And you’re with the Agency, right? That is why you had the driver take us here?”

“Yup!” He cheered and pointed one of his thumbs at himself. “My name is Ranpo Edogawa; the great—”

“—est detective of all of Yokohama, yeah, I get it,” you interrupted him and you heard a pout come from him. “Listen, I don’t mean any trouble. I was just—”

“Don’t worry Y/N, your affiliation with the Port Mafia is safe with—”

“Could you keep your voice down?!” You whispered loudly at him, almost taking a few steps forward. “I don’t need your whole Agency to know that a Port Mafia member is near their building right now!”

“Don’t worry, they’re doing a test for one of the newer members right now,” Ranpo tilted his head side to side, waving a hand. “They’re a bit busy to come out and say hi to you.”

“I wouldn’t want them to go outside right now, anyway,” you shook your head.

“Listen Y/N, I like you,” Ranpo pursed his lips and kept his hands on his lips. “So, let me declare a new friendship with you!”

And was he serious? “You’re kidding right?” You spoke in a deadpanned tone.

“That’s a bit rude, isn’t it?” He pouted and reached out a hand. “Anyone who pays for my sweets and snacks gets an invite to be my friend.”

“You’re trying to get some information from me about the Port Mafia, aren’t you?”

“Nope!” He grinned; green eyes brightening from the orange sunset behind him. “I just wanna keep in touch with you. I already know everything, but you can trust me. I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

“I—” you let out an exhausted sigh before you shook hands with him awkwardly. “Sure, friend, I guess.”

“Again, thanks for accompanying me,” Ranpo straightened his posture and placed his hands on his hips. “You know, I think you’d really like someone that I work with…”

“Huh?” You responded in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

“Ah, no worries, that’s for another time! Because I will be hanging out with you again, right?”

You blinked, watching the smile stay on his lips and his eyes were slowly squinting at you again, and for some reason, Ranpo had this type of trust that you were able to detect even from the moment you were walking with him on the streets. Maybe it was the happy voice that he bolstered out in public or the fact that he had an unhealthy obsession with sweets; that smile he was shooting your way couldn’t be ignored, and you found yourself smiling back.

“Yeah.” You responded. “Sounds like a plan.”

❀ - ❀ - ❀

The test was over and Atsushi had passed.

Dazai sat on the desk, earning a loud lecture from Kunikida for being the idiot that he was and Dazai smiled to himself, watching the others clap and congratulate Atsushi for passing his entrance exam.

The front door opened, where everyone turned to stare at a lovely detective with a smile glued on his lips. Dazai noticed Kunikida making his way to Atsushi, and he wasn’t sure what their conversation was about, but Dazai kept their voices tucked away in the back of his head and then walked towards the man standing near the front door.

“Ranpo! Welcome back!” He cheered, arms sprawled out. “You’re back so soon. And—” he hummed in confusion. “Where are the milkshakes?”

“Oh.” Ranpo turned to face Dazai, tilting his head. “I drank them all on the way back.”

“Awww,” Dazai playfully pouted, sticking his lips out as he shook his head. “Didn’t even save one for me, huh?”

Ranpo kept that smile on his lips as he walked over to one of the desks and watched out the window carefully. Dazai suspected that he was looking at something in particular—or maybe, he was watching out for someone—and then looked over Ranpo’s shoulder, only to see nothing except street lights and the orange hue from the sunlight painting the street.

“Hey, how did you even find your way back here anyway?” Dazai questioned, watching Ranpo sit down on the chair before he kicked his legs up.

“Oh, someone helped me find my way back to the Agency,” Ranpo responded, reaching for a drawer and then pulling out a bag of chocolate chip cookies.

Dazai hummed to himself and rested his back against the wall. “Really? Who was it?”

“Someone really cute!” Ranpo chuckled, nearly choking on his snack. “Say Dazai, have you ever fallen in love?”

Dazai blinked; he was never asked that by one of his colleagues before. And he wasn’t sure where that came from but he only laughed in response and placed a palm on his head dramatically. “Love is a funny thing, Ranpo; I really thought about it, and I don’t think I can ever commit suicide without finding a beautiful woman to join me!” He dramatically said, hugging his own chest with his arms.

Ranpo looked at Dazai before letting out a laugh in return. “So, does that mean it’s a yes or a no?”

Dazai looked down at his colleague before smirking at him. “You’re the best detective, aren’t you? I think you already know the answer to that question.”

Ranpo returned a smile.

[ktffansub]

Bijutsu Techo: Boys Love – Interview: Yoneda Kou

This article was first published in November 17th, 2014. Translated from Japanesse to Bahasa Indonesia by kalengjelek and then translated from Bahasa Indonesia to English by KTFfansub. Source: here

When did you first encounter manga?

I was born in a family with three daughters; while my older sister likes reading Ribbon magazine, I like reading Nakayoshi. It was the era of Asagiri Yuu-sensei, when I was in elementary school. My favorite at that time were Kusunoki Kei sensei’s works and Patlabor. When it came to Shonen, I would say I was more into Shounen Sunday. I also loved Kawaraha Izumi sensei’s works. When I think about it, rather than manga that were full of passion, I’d actually prefer manga that had calm and soothing kind of vibe.

Is that so… What about BL?

When I was in Junior High, my older sister showed me Captain Tsubasa Doujinshi by Ozaki Minami and I was dumbfounded, I thought, “So, there’s also a world like this!”. After that, I started to buy BL manga. At that time, the mangaka who left the most impression to me was Nishi Keikosensei. Her works such as Mizu Ga Koori Ni Naru Toki, Tenshi Ni Naranakya have unique openings, it made me reread them many times. Uida Shiuko (now Kano Shiuko) and Yoshinaga Fumi Sensei are also my favorite mangaka.

When was the first time you draw manga?

I seriously began drawing manga in my first year of junior high. At first, I drew a pair of man and woman, but after page three, I felt something was off. So, I tried drawing BL for the next one. Just like the present, I’ve always loved less expressive and less-talkactive main characters (laughs). But the more I draw, then an attentive senpai with good personality and short haired ones like Togawa in Doushitemo Furetakunai also appeared. At that moment I thought, “Oh, this is it!”

You really weren’t embarrassed, are you? (laughs)

Well, it’s because it was embarrassing, that’s why I’m not really open about my drawing manga activity.

(laughs) But you debut as professional mangaka eventually, how did that happen?

Yes, after that… I worked as office lady. I got married not long after, but then, I was getting through a marriage blues. At that time, I was invested in Kakashi and Naruto shown by my older sister along with Comiket catalogue.

The power of moe beats out your anxiety (laughs)

It’s true (laughs). Escaping from reality, I checked a lot of circles and opened some sites. There I found a work from a novelist (now has debuted professionally) that I really liked. This is why I started writing novel at first, not drawing. I have a lot of ways to accommodate my moe needs. I also once drew Doujinshi but due to my inability to use a proper diction, the result wasn’t optimal (laughs). After drawing slowly and more at ease, I got into Katekyo Hitman Reborn fandom and drew a lot of doujinshi for that series. A year later, I was contacted by Taiyou Tosho publisher.

“With that publisher, Yoneda Kou published Doushitemo Furetakunai which has been adapted into a movie. Since the beginning, Yoneda Kou didn’t draw one-shot but serialization. For the movie, even though it only tells a story of daily lives, but the directing, composition and dialogue are impressive. About 4,5 years later, the second volume of Saezuru Tori wa Habatakanai that had the yakuza neighborhood setting was released. This has completely different feeling compared to Doushitemo Furetakunai.”

My first work was actually published in Drap, so I had it adjusted to be a less-heavy work. That’s why I ended up switching to another magazine.

Was it a demand from the editor?

Of course I only draw what I want to draw. But without realizing, I always draw them to fit the magazine. And it seems like Taiyou Tosho prefers me to draw more simple work.

So, sensei is the type who pays attention to editor’s suggestion. When you wrote the first chapter of Saezuru Tori Wa Habatakanai, did you already want Yashiro to be the main character (for longterm series)?

Right. I didn’t explain it in the first one-shot, but I always believe that no matter how you look at it, Yashiro really loved Kageyama. And (even though he’s drawn like that) he is actually a neko (uke). I think he is an interesting character. When I drew highschooler Yashiro and others, it had been decided that I wanted to write a serialization for this.

And only then the character Doumeki was born?

At that time, the character Doumeki didn’t exist, but I thought very hard about what kind of partner that would be suitable for Yashiro. I took a break from drawing for about two years. I only worked on illustration during that time, until one morning an idea suddenly came to me, “That’s right! Erectile dysfunction!”. I immediately sent an email to my editor: “A perverted impotent man!” (laughs). Afterwards, I finally worked on the first draft.

(laughs hard) Finally, the combination of Yashiro and Doumeki who are the opposite of each other was decided. What an amazing couple that can even make the readers losing sleep.

I do have this particular interest in people’s decision and behaviour resulted from a contrasting relationship that is full of conflicts. Because there are so many characters in Saezuru, I have this excel file compiling the plot for each character chronologically. Otherwise, I would’ve forgotten about it. If I didn’t seriously research (the setting of my own story), I wouldn’t be able to write anything when I made name. But even though I got through it, drawing a family with no blood ties like yakuza was still difficult. If I don’t focus, the story might turn out like Nagara Sakugyou*. That’s why now I’m just focusing on doing Saezuru.

*) nagara sakugyou: other work that being serialized at the same time

Up until now, Sensei has published 5 volumes and all of them have beautiful covers with varied tones.

Actually, the cover color for Doushitemo Furetakunai should’ve looked like red wine, but it seemed like there was an error in printing so the pink was contrasting into it. But it turned out to be good.

Then about the cover for the Saezuru first volume. It’s so impressive! The stepped-on man! All the people around me also had high appraise for this.

Actually, there were so many things happened in the process. By taking the request (it isn’t clearly explained whether it’s from editor/designer) of “Yashiro sitting alone”, I first submitted that illustration to the book designer. However, I couldn’t throw away the idea of Yashiro being stepped on, so, during the next three days I was stressed out. I’ve finally asked them to keep my idea and that’s how the cover of the first volume ended up the way it is now.

I see! For the second volume, it’s totally different, isn’t it? It’s a scenery, but when you do a double take, there are Yashiro and Doumeki!

I always want to give a different vibe in each volume. Actually I’m also a fan of the way Tsumugi Taku-sensei draws scenery.

Hoo-, sensei is a fan of Tsumugi sensei! Talking abough NIGHTS, when you open the cover, there’s a surprise in it!

Yes, if you look at the rough sketches there were 4 pages of picture that were interconnected. In the end, the desainer took picture number two as the cover and number four to put it on the bottom of the back cover. For Soredemo, I didn’t get any guide from the book designer. I combined the the feel of the story with a touch of water paint. At first, I actually wanted to make Deguchi pulling Onoda’s hand to get out of the train, but it ended up looking like Deguchi forced Onoda to stay (with him). So I decided it’s Onoda who’s getting off the train by himself with Deguchi waiting on the platform.

Do you do the coloring with computer? How about the non-colored script?

I use SAI for coloring but for monochrome I usually draw by my hand until the inking, then I do the tone using photoshop.

Do you self-learned drawing?

Well, I at least bought a lot of ‘pose reference’ books often. When it comes to buy things, it feels great, doesn’t it? But when it comes to manga, we draw to tell our moe concept.. well, I love drawing moe concept, but the thing is- I’m not really good at drawing. I like thinking about moe stuff, I also like to combine colors (inside my head) but when I do, I have no desire to draw I, even though that’s the important part. There are often times when I feel like drawing is a handful. In short, I want to draw something that isn’t too troublesome.

But, isnt it because you’re doing manga seriously that it feels difficult?

Because I’m too serious I feel like the story can be boring. Not only the work but also the author (laughs). I often read comments saying my manga is ‘down to earth’. I guess it’s shown obviously in every each of my works

Sure, there are people who think like, “In real world, there’s no way a wakagashira can be as masochist as Yashiro”, but apart from that, Saezuru still gives an impression of it being realistic. In drawing the important men’s arms and muscles in your work, sensei has done your best. Getting into the story, the characters also put extra effort to look elegant. Despite the young age, in a positive sense, sensei’s works feels like having Showa* vibe.

(*SHOWA ERA: 1926~1989)

I’m no longer young, though (laughs). Maybe this is why my works often get called “JUNE”. Especially Saezuru, I think it really fits (JUNE concept).

Are you an organized person?

I’m actually a person who have no chill (laughs). But I have this side of myself who tend to see things as a whole, look at my surrounding then step on the brake. There is also a side of me that is so energetic in creating my own moe that I turn into a selfish person. I guess that’s also my flaw.

It seems like sensei is the type who has her own editorial meeting inside her head (laughs)

I wish it’s not true, but unfortunately, I’m the type of person who is embarrased to admit that I have a relationship with manga. Even until now I have yet told my close friends about this job (as BL mangaka). I’m not that kind of person who like to share or tell others about my moe situation inside my head. When my moe concept is being visualized in public I would scream, “Don’t look! But if you want to read it, I’d be happy”. Yes, I’m that kind of person.

I wonder if sensei’s works are the manifestation of sensei’s own self-contradictions..

[alpacaparkaseok]

The Pact - Date #4

Pairing/Genre: OT7 BTS x reader (not poly), idol!BTS, best friend BTS

Word Count: 5.6k

Premise: The truth about the pact the boys have about you has been revealed. What happens when you agree to go on a single date with each of them?

Warnings: none, just some of the fluffiest fluff that ever did fluff

a/n: *heavy breathing into a paper bag* EVERYTHING IS FINE, JUST PLEASE LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS M’KAY

Date #4

series masterlist ∆∆∆ join the taglist

You’ve made it to Friday night without hearing a single thing about your upcoming date. Snuggled up on your couch, watching a rerun of NCIS and wishing that you could invite Hobi over to watch it with you, you hardly notice the sound of your phone pinging. It isn’t until your eyes are flying open at the sudden recollection of falling asleep on this very couch while Namjoon snacked on his McDonalds that you notice your phone pinging for the second time.

“Finally,” you sigh, scrambling to grab it from off the coffee table. As expected, it’s a text from Jungkook. However, the more you reread it, the more confused you grow.

“Check the mailbox?” You wonder aloud, shuffling off the couch and slipping your shoes on. Heading outside to investigate, you notice a suspicious car slowly driving by.

You know that car. And you’re pretty sure you recognize the people inside of it who are desperately trying to hide. You wave at them, laughing when Jungkook raises his hand to wave back only to have it slapped away by Jin, who laughs at the boy who obviously forgot that they were supposed to be hiding.

Stepping up to your mailbox, you eye the hastily sealed envelope before taking it back inside. The boys speed off into the night, leaving you alone with your thoughts as you rip into the letter.

Not letter, you realize as you slide the slip of paper out.

Boarding pass, with the final destination covered by a slip of dark tape and a firm note begging you not to remove it. And a teasing sentence that has you barking out a laugh.

You like surprises, don’t you?

When there’s a knock on your door, you’re only aware of two things.

1.    Your shirt is on backwards.

2.    Only one eye is completely open. The other is still half-closed, trying to cling to sleep. You can’t really blame it. You were up until three trying to not freak out, and it’s barely six in the morning now.

“Coming,” you groan out as you attempt to throw your shirt on the correct way. Padding over to the door, you realize that there may be some perks to beginning your date this early in the morning. One obvious point being the fact that you’re too groggy to go through your usual freakout before opening up the door.

When you do open the door, it takes a moment to discern who’s actually on the other side.

Hidden beneath a long coat and black ball cap, Jimin looks at you with a look that rivals your own exhaustion. In fact, the way his puffy eyelids seem to be competing with his bread cheeks has you turning into a giggling mess right there in the doorway.

Jimin winces. “What’s so funny?” He croaks out. You shake your head, impossibly endeared by the boy before you. One of your best friends, the one whose words of encouragement have helped you throughout this entire dating process.

Today, you really feel his words in full force. You deserve to go on some fun dates with your friends. Just enjoy it.

“Are you regretting this yet?” You shoot back. Now Jimin does crack a smile, opening his eyes fully to regard you.

“Ask me again in a few hours.” He sways on your porch, stretching and yawning. “Got everything?”

You hurry back inside, a bit of adrenaline pumping through your system now that you’re actually about to go on this date.

While you’re pretty sure you passed over into ‘wildest dream’ territory approximately three dates ago, you still can’t quite wrap your head around everything.

While you’re running around like a mad-woman trying to gather up your things, you don’t notice Jimin easing inside and quietly closing the door behind him. He watches you with a forgotten smile on his lips, tilting his head back against the door so he doesn’t have to open his eyes all the way.

You’re just double checking that you have your passport and boarding pass when a familiar hand wraps around your arm. Gently turning you around to face him, Jimin still wears his smile as he pulls into his embrace.

Once you’re nestled into him, you let go of all the tension in your shoulders with a great big sigh. Jimin speaks against your hair, the vibrations of his voice running up and down your spine.

“I miss you,” he mumbles.

You can’t help but chuckle, thinking that he’s still too tired to think straight. “But I’m right here…?”

He shakes his head, taking the opportunity to nuzzle in a little closer. “I miss you all the time, though. Even when you’re right in front of me.”

You pull away just enough to see his face. He smiles down at you, almost as though completely unaware of the sad statement he just made. “That’s a sad feeling,” you whisper. There’s nothing for your to do but acknowledge it.

He nods slowly, stepping back and gesturing for you to hand him your bag. “Sometimes, yeah. It’s just the truth.”

And with that, he whisks you away.

It’s been ages since you last traveled so far, but you take advantage of the chartered plane Jimin somehow convinced Bang Sihyuk to let him borrow, and stretch out.

Jimin does the same, bringing the blanket up to his chin while giving you a mock salute mere minutes after the plane took off.

“See you in ten hours,” he says before closing his eyes. You grin, absolutely positive that you won’t be able to sleep at all.

However, when you hear your name being called ages later, you crack an eye open to see none other than Park Jimin grinning like a fiend above you. It takes you a long moment to remember even getting on a plane, let alone what’s actually happening.

“We’re about an hour away,” Jimin chimes, giving you space to sit up and hopefully wipe the drool off of your face without him noticing. “So, would you like to know what our plans are for the day?”

“Yes,” you croak out, stretching. A glance at Jimin shows you that he must have changed clothes and gotten ready while you were sleeping. He now sports a black bucket hat paired with a dark t-shirt and mismatched denim jacket. He taps his boots on the floor, a sign of his excitement.

“Did you sleep well?” He asks. “You were out for nearly nine hours.”

You blink. How that happened is beyond you. Perhaps it had something to do with all of the overthinking you’ve been up to over the past week, leaving you utterly drained. “I slept great,” you admit. “Will you tell me where we’re going now?”

You peek out the window to see if that’ll give you a hint, but all you see it blue skies and unmarked land below.

“I will when we land,” he says. “First thing’s first, I’m sure you’re hungry. I was thinking we grab some food first thing. Now, take your pick: inside or outside?”

You glare at him for not revealing the location yet. For all you know, he could have paid someone to just fly the plane around in circles for hours and land you in Busan.

“Uh…outside.”

Jimin smiles, clearly pleased with your choice. “Good. Ok, next choice. Basilica or shopping?”

“B-basilica?!” You spit out, looking at Jimin as though he just announced he was taking you to the moon. “Where are we-“ You stop mid-sentence, holding your breath as is your habit whenever you get excited. “Wait…”

Jimin’s smile only grows. “Yes?” He asks with perfect piety.

Leave it to Park Jimin to look at a 24-hour window and decide to take you to Russia.

The second you’re off the plane and jumping into a taxi, you’re squealing like a school-girl.

“Park Jimin, I swear if this is all some dream and I’m about to wake up soon-” you hardly finish your sentence, mouth dropping open as you pass by a huge cathedral.

Jimin, on the other hand, looks quite content. He’s been here several times before; a fact that you’ve always brought up when talking about travelling with the boys. Russia has been on the top of your bucket-list for years now. Every time Jimin went he’d make sure to bring you back something special.

For years you’ve been half-planning to go on a trip with him the next time he went. Of course, you never actually believed that you’d go. But still, it was worth dreaming about.

“It’s not Moscow,” Jimin laments from your side. “But I’ve always favored St. Petersburg.”

For good reason.

It’s a clear day, the sun shining off of the city streets as though they were made of gold and not the same concrete found all over the world. People appear to be in high spirits as well; many couple wandering about hand in hand.

And you’re here. With Jimin.

Just like you always dreamed about.

So when you make it to your destination where the two of you would be eating brunch, you can’t help but chew on your lip as tears spring to your eyes.

“Jimin-ah,” you begin as you’re led to your table. It’s outside, which you’d chosen. Facing a river which is filled with ferries and tourists chattering freely.

“Yeah?” He asks, taking in your expression and instantly reaching across the table to grab your hand. “Everything alright? Maybe you slept too much. Or is your stomach upset from the flight? I know that happens to me sometimes on longer flights-”

You shake your head. “No, it’s just…” you sigh, trying to figure out how to best voice what you’re feeling. “You brought me to Russia.”

Jimin squints at you as though reading a book that’s in a foreign language. “…yes.” When you don’t make eye-contact with him, he raises his eyebrows. “Is this making you uncomfortable? I knew we should’ve talked about it first, but everyone was so excited so I automatically thought that you would be too, you know? It’s just, we’ve talked about this for forever, so I thought it’d be fun to actually bring you. Since I couldn’t, before.”

You blink. “Everyone was excited about it?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jimin nods, sitting back in his seat. “Is that what you’re worried about? That I’m not being fair?”

Despite the hat sitting low on his head, you can see the worried glimmer in Jimin’s eyes. “I guess…” you squirm in your seat. “I really want to be here. I do. But don’t you think it’s a bit…well, it’s a bit much? For a first date? I mean, I would’ve been happy going through a drive-thru and chatting for a while.”

Now it’s Jimin’s turn to look a little lost. “Oh.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I never thought of it that way.”

A waiter comes by to check on you, and Jimin kindly explains that you’ll need more time to decide. Once they’ve disappeared from sight, Jimin sets his menu down and leans over the table.

“Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

Nodding to himself, Jimin looks out over the river before turning back to face you. “This is possibly the most rash, stupid, bizarre thing I’ve ever done.”

You choke on a laugh at his sudden declaration. “What?”

“It is. Seriously. I mean, I’ve traveled a lot and done plenty of stupid things, as you well know-”

“Oh, like the swimming pool incident-”

“Yah,” he waves you off frantically, “I wasn’t asking for examples!”

“Ah, right.” You gesture for him to continue, a grin growing on your face. Once he can tell you’re not about to go recounting every embarrassing moment you’ve witnessed, Jimin goes on.

“It really is stupid. I mean, who does this?” He points around the restaurant. “You’re right, we could’ve totally done something like we usually do; grab some takeout and chill. Maybe play a card game and lose miserably.”

“Wait, you lose or I lose?”

“Both. You know Jin would be there and he’d win.”

“Touché.”

Jimin sighs, throwing his chin onto the palm of his hand and looking at you with unveiled tenderness. “It’s not very often that we get free reign like this. So I thought it’d be nice, you know. To get to go do something a little crazy with you.”

You’re reminded of Taehyung’s route through Seoul, where he had a similar motive. If given the chance, wouldn’t you also like to take a day to just live a little? Even if it is a little unconventional?

Leaning back in your chair, you let out a breath of relief before bringing the menu up to your eyes and wiggling your brows at Jimin. “Well, then. I guess that makes sense. Although, I hope you know that you’re ruining my expectations for all other men I ever date.”

Mirroring your position, Jimin winks at you from over his menu. “Isn’t that the point?”

Brunch is delicious. Would would’ve thought that Russians have nailed French-style breakfast foods?

You’re just scooping up the last of your crêpe when Jimin leans back with a satisfied groan. “So, what do you wanna do next?”

“Wait, I’m supposed to choose?” You ask. Jimin nods, languidly looking you over and smiling crookedly when he spots a bit of chocolate on your face. You quickly wipe it off. “I don’t know…” you look around for inspiration, eyes landing on the ferry closest to you. “Oh, that. Can we do that?”

“Sounds perfect. That’ll take us to the basilica, I think.”

You chuckle darkly. “You think? Wow, how wild. Lost in Russia.”

Jimin smiles warmly at the waiter that swoops in to hand him the check. If he recognizes Jimin, you have no idea. He simply waits patiently as Jimin hands him his card and waits for him to return.

“Lost in Russia?” Jimin claps his hands together, nearly slipping off his seat as he giggles. “Take that, Shawn Mendes!”

You groan even as you laugh, burying your face in your hands.

The ferry is bustling with tourists, making you buzz with excitement as you finally board. Jimin makes sure to keep his hand in yours so you don’t get separated, keeping his head down when a couple of people look his way with curious expressions.

Once the ferry begins its slow journey, you find yourself standing before a railing overlooking the calm waters. Jimin comes to stand behind you, resting his hands on either side of your own which cling to the railing. He rests his chin on your shoulder, humming a tune you don’t recognize.

“Aren’t you the one that loves Anastasia?” Jimin asks, the question a mere hum in your ear.

“Mmhm. That’s me.”

“You know that it’s-“

“Aish, Park Jimin if you’re about to go off about how historically inaccurate it is, I’ll personally shove you off this ferry.”

Jimin’s laugh has him resting against you completely, hiding his face in your back and making your cheeks turn a little red as people look your way.

“It’s a great movie,” Jimin concedes. “Really, it is.”

You nod. “Yes. It is. And don’t you forget it.”

“I’m guessing that you love Dmitri, then?” He’s returned to his spot at your shoulder, arms sliding in a little tighter until his pinkies are linked through yours. You can’t help but smile at the sweet gesture, glancing down to take a mental picture.

“…yes.” You respond, a little wary that he’s about to start bashing on what is perhaps the most attractive animated character you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Instead, Jimin releases you from his grip and comes to stand by your side. Looking out over the river as though greeting an old friend, he rests his forearms against the railing. “What do you like about him?”

Well, isn’t today just chalk full of surprises.

“Well, for starters, he admits when he’s wrong. Despite the fame and money that he’s after, he’s actually pretty humble.” Your eyes drift over to the boy by your side. “He’s handsome,” Jimin snorts, nodding along reverently when you shoot him a glare. “And he just so clearly cares about Anastasia. Like, he’s willing to step out of the picture if that means she can be happy.”

A basilica comes into view, but you suspect that’s not the only thing taking your breath away.

No, it’s partly due to the fact that somehow, you’ve found yourself describing Jimin. If he realizes it, he doesn’t let on. Instead, he just winks at you, shooting you a smirk.

“Gotcha. Humble and hot.”

As the ferry docks at the opposite shore, you wonder if it’s too late to throw him overboard.

The basilica is open for tourists, and you find that you’ve got a kink in your neck from staring up at the ceiling the entirety of the tour.

Neither one of you understand a single word that’s being said, not wanting to wait around for a Korean translator. Instead, you opt for nodding along and laughing when everyone else does.

You have your arm linked through Jimin’s, trying to get a good look at a painted mural when he whispers something to you.

“You know, I heard that you and Namjoon had a fun time last week.”

Quick enough to give yourself whiplash, you turn to stare at Jimin with wide, guilty eyes. “W-what are you…I mean, yeah. Yeah, it was nice.”

Jimin bursts out laughing, immediately drawing the attention of the tour group. The tour guide gives the two of you a disapproving glare, which Jimin takes as an invitation to hang back as everyone else continues walking.

“Nice? Really? I thought the man would be a better kisser than just nice.”

Absolutely horrified, you bury your head in your hands. “Ergh…didn’t think…can’t believe he’d…”

“What was that? Can’t hear you,” Jimin teases with a knowing smirk. You smack his arm instinctively, only making him laugh harder.

“Why would you bring that up now?” You whine, running a hand through your hair.

“Why wouldn’t I? In my defense, I at least kept quiet about it for hours.”

You squint at him, “How did you find out?”

“Told me the second he got in the car,” Jimin replies, smile growing at your expression. You’d thought that was Jimin who’d been on the phone with Namjoon when he’d called to be picked up. “If it makes you feel any better, it was absolutely hilarious.”

“How would that make me feel better?!”

Only cackling in response, Jimin takes off after the group. You glare after him, pressing your hands to your cheeks and closing your eyes.

Wrong decision. The second you close your eyes you’re presented with an onslaught of memories; primarily one of Namjoon towering over you in a wardrobe.

You chase after Jimin, determined to bring up one of his embarrassing moments that will surely make him turn into a blushing mess.

“Ok, but at least I know not to eat a whole bag of sugar-free gummy bears-”

“I’ve gotta say, I’ve never been kicked out of a basilica before.”

The afternoon sun has quickly turned to the tell-tale golden hue of the evening. Jimin walks hand in hand with you down the street, the two of you the picture of calm and content.

“Me neither,” you sigh.

The tour guide didn’t take kindly to your bickering, quickly pointing to the exit once you’d resorted to attempting to stomp on Jimin’s feet like a child. He’d deserved it, though. Especially once he’d made a comment under his breath about the statue of lovers wrapped up in each other’s arms to be a spitting image of you and Namjoon.

“A wardrobe? Really?” Jimin shakes his head, tsking your behavior.

“Oh, shut up,” you hiss.

Wow. Jimin really is the Dmitri to your Anastasia. It would appear like he’s completely embodied the role he has throughout the first half of the movie, in which he’s endlessly annoying.

“Alright, alright. I’ll drop it.” He hold up a hand in innocence. “Should we get some skewers before the next thing?”

“I’d like to skewer you-”

“What was that, jagiya?” Jimin asks with a smirk.

“Oh, I just said that that sounds delicious.”

“Mhmm.”

Together you locate some delicious street-food, entering some sort of food heaven when the first bite touches your lips. “This is amazing,” you say around the food.

Jimin groans, closing his eyes as he eats up. “Here, try this.” He extends the skewer to you, leaning into your side as you sit together on the bench. Cupping your chin, he feeds you the next slice of meat, watching your reaction carefully.

You hum as the flavor makes your tastebuds dance, eyes growing wide as Jimin swipes a thumb over your bottom lip, gathering up the excess sheen from the juicy meat. You watch, completely enraptured as he pops the digit in his mouth without a second thought, taking another bite of the food as though nothing happened.

All you know is that you wouldn’t mind that happening again.

“S-so what’s on the agenda for the rest of the day?” You ask, voice a little higher than usual as you attempt to calm your beating heart.

“Mm, lemme check,” Jimin mumbles, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Oh! How is today going by so fast?”

“What?”

“We’ve got just enough time to pick out a souveneir before the show starts.” Rising from the bench, he takes another bite of his food. “Shall well?” You take his hand, allowing him to pull you up.

“What show?”

He looks you over. “You’ve heard of the Russian Ballet, right?”

You’re severely underdressed for a night out at the ballet, but Jimin reassures you that no one will notice. Together, the two of you roam about the Meriinsky theater’s souvenir shop.

“Oooh, Jimin, look!” You hold up a shirt with a burly man in a tutu. “You should totally get this.”

Jimin turns to face you, dissolving into a fit of laughter that has him falling to his knees. “No way, that’s horrible!”

You shrug, looking back and forth from the shirt and back to him. “I don’t know, I think it’d look kinda hot.”

Smile wiped from his face, Jimin snatches the shirt from you. “I’m getting it. Don’t try to stop me.”

You end up finding a similar shirt – this one has a ballerina balancing huge logs on her shoulders – to get with Jimin. Just as you head up to the cashier, you see Jimin sliding a small box across the table for the cashier to ring up.

“What’s that?” You ask, placing your shirt on top of his in the bag he holds open. Jimin shrugs.

“Just something.”

You frown. “That was vague.”

Tapping your nose, Jimin grins and nods at the cashier before taking the box and placing it inside the bag before you can get a good look at it. “So observant.”

The ballet begins their show at 6 o’clock. You sit near the front, in a spot that appears to be fairly inconspicuous. Jimin sits with the bag of your souvenirs placed under his chair, out of sight from your prying eyes.

You can’t help but feel like royalty as you look around the historic theater. It’s filled to the brim with natives and foreigners alike, most of which are dressed to the nines. The golden, old lighting casts shadows on everyone, thick fabric draping itself around the box seats.

Suddenly you remember what Jimin said to you so early this morning. I miss you even when you’re right in front of me.

It makes sense, now. There’s ache in your chest as you look around the theater, trying to memorize every last detail, knowing that this may very well be the last time you ever see it in such grandeur. The thought nearly rips your heart out of your chest. Knowing that this feeling is only temporary. You’re only royal for a day.

You turn to mention it to Jimin, only to find him looking at you in the same way you’ve looked at the theater.

Like you’re as timeless as the music that drifts up from the orchestra, and he’s just found out that he’s on a mortal timeline.

You will remain like this forever in his memory. Eyes bright and your right knee nervously bouncing up at down, only to be soothed by the sound of a lone violin that stands out amongst the other flurry of instruments.

He smiles, the action so at odds with the heavy look in his eyes. Reaching out, you take his hand from his lap, and without a single thought other than the way the golden lights are dimming and so is the look of pain in Jimin’s eyes, you press your lips to the tip of his knuckles. Once.

Twice.

And one more time, making it to his pinky knuckle and smiling against it before planting a kiss that feels more like a breath against it.

It’s nearly pitch black now, the curtains pulled open to reveal the breathtaking ballerina, but you find that you can’t quite look away. Not as Jimin continues to look at you with that indescribable expression that has somehow shifted into something more. He brings his hand back to his lap, enveloping your hand in both of his.

“It’s starting,” he breathes out.

You know that he means the production is beginning. Indeed, in your peripheral you see the ballerina who doubles as Sleeping Beauty tonight takes to the stage amidst the sound of awed clapping. But you can’t help but find a different meaning in those two words.

It’s starting to get harder.

Because anytime you close your eyes, you see Namjoon before you in the wardrobe, tentative hope in his eyes.

Because your wrist burns with Hobi’s bracelet linked around it, a constant reminder of the ghost of his lips on your palm.

Because you wake up in the middle of the night every night, looking to your doorway in hopes of finding Taehyung leaning against it with a smirk that does nothing to fool you.

And now there’s Jimin, filling your mind with his confession this morning. I miss you.

You’ve unknowingly boarded a runaway train.

Who cut the brakes on this thing?

The ballet is beautiful.

Like, beautiful in the way that you don’t want it to ever end. The music coming from the pit weaves the story, the ballerinas working in tandem with every note to bring it to life.

Once you enter into the final act, you find yourself squeezes Jimin’s hand as though watching a horror movie. He traces soothing patterns against your skin even as he quietly laughs.

“How’re you holding up over there?” He drawls in your ear.

“I don’t want it to end,” you reply, nibbling on your bottom lip.

Like all good things, it does. Jimin allows you to linger for a while longer, even after most of the people of exited the building. You remain in your seat, staring up at the stage now covered by thick curtains, almost as though waiting for the production to start up again.

Finally, you notice the ache in your legs from sitting in a confined space for so long, and get up.

“How was it?” Jimin asks, leading you out of the marvelous theater.

You blink. “How was it? I…I think my soul left my body for a minute back there.”

You walk out to find that night has fallen, Jimin laughing up at the stars. “Wow. That’s a pretty intense experience.”

“Yeah, well.”

Skipping ahead of you, Jimin turns around to face you with a silly grin. “We’ll come back someday,” he promises. “Maybe we’ll go to Moscow. They perform ‘Black Swan’ there.”

You blink. “And they don’t in St. Petersburg?”

Jimin shrugs, reaching out for your hands, which you extend to him. He continues walking backward, unwilling to let go of either hand. “They haven’t, yet.”

“Why not?”

“It has something to do with the political climate here versus in Moscow.”

“Huh.” You take a moment to take in the view before you, Jimin looking like he belongs here among the stars and streetlamps. “You seem to know a lot about the Russian Ballet.”

Again, he shrugs, this time accompanied by a crooked smile. “I read about it on the flight over.” He pauses, waiting for you to catch up to him before walking side by side. “Which, speaking of flights…”

“Don’t we have one to catch?”

“Exactly.”

It’s painful, leaving St. Petersburg behind. You watch through the window of the airplane as you take off, the lights winking at you in a silent goodbye.

Jimin watches from the opposite side of the plane, an absent-minded smile yet again on his face. He quietly orders a bit of food for the two of you, knowing that you’ll be hungry soon.

Once St. Petersburg vanishes from your view, you glance over at Jimin who fiddles with the safety pamphlet.

“That was amazing.”

He furrows his brows, not looking up yet. “What? The plane taking off?”

“No, you know what I mean.” He continues to look at you, feigning ignorance. “All of it. That…date. That was seriously a dream.”

Jimin openly stares at you for a moment as though not expecting such a reaction before averting his eyes. You watch with amusement as his cheeks flood with pink, a silent testament to how flustered you can make him.

“Yeah,” he coughs awkwardly. “I guess you could say…it was nice.” He looks at you expectantly.

You frown, not quite understanding what he means until – “Jimin!”

He sinks low in his seat, body shaking with laughter. “First thing I do when we get back is tell Namjoon you said that about your kiss. I’m not even kidding,” he says as he wipes fake tears from his eyes.

“Just- yah!” Absolutely embarrassed, you turn to stare out the window again, ignoring the laughing boy.

Your mind is dazed once you return to Seoul, clambering inside a car that Jimin is somehow able to drive despite being clearly exhausted from the long flight. You share a comfortable silence as you replay that events of the past 24 hours in your mind.

The sound of the orchestra is still ringing in your ears by the time Jimin pulls up in front of your apartment. You’re about to tell him that he doesn’t need to get out of the car when he’s hurry around to open your door.

“You look exhausted,” you remark sleepily.

He doesn’t have the energy to pretend to be offended. “So do you.”

Indeed you do, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the car window before setting off toward your door. The few steps up to your apartment appear to be the same as Mount Everest, Jimin’s hand on the small of your back proving to be the only thing keeping you moving forward.

You watched four movies on the flight back. Jimin had urged you to try to at least nap, but you couldn’t. You were too wired, mind running nonstop with different ideas and memories. And now you’re paying the price as you stumble up the stairs.

Once Jimin has ascertained that you’re not about to fall over, he takes his hand off your back. “Made it,” he mumbles out.

“Mmm.”

He chuckles softly, reaching out to pull you in for a soft hug. It’s warm in his arms, making you close your eyes and rest against his shoulder. You could stay here for hours-

“Don’t go falling asleep on me,” Jimin quietly warns, looking at you fondly as he pulls away. He notes your still-closed eyes and leans in to peck your cheek.

He grins when he pulls away, seeing that your eyes are now wide open. You’re a little flushed from the unexpected peck, but it’s still dark enough in the early morning light that you hope he doesn’t notice.

“Here, your souvenir,” he hands you the bag from the Meriinsky theater, which you take. “Go in and sleep.”

Once you manage to get the door unlocked, you’re slipping inside and waving goodbye as Jimin hurries back down to his car. Just before he gets in, you call out to him.

“Jimin-ah!”

He holds the drivers-side door open. “What?”

Giving him another little wave, you shout, “Thank you!”

“Anytime.”

With that, he hops in and drives away.

You don’t remember walking to your bedroom, but you’re grateful that you’ve found your bed. Still holding the bag, it swings down to hit your legs.

“Ow!” Something solid hits your shin from inside the bag, leading you to investigate its contents.

Hiding beneath your shirt you got, sits the small box you’d spied Jimin buying. On top of it sits a crinkled post-it note, one he must have found while you were immersed in your movies on the flight.

To my Anastasia – hopefully this will be enough to say ‘thank you’.

Brows furrowed in curiosity, you slide the box open and pull out a small object wrapped in bubble wrap. Carefully unwrapping it, your mouth falls open in a silent gasp when you uncover your little present.

It’s a music box.

Opening it, you ignore the little tears springing to your eyes as it reveals a ballerina, spinning in perfect circles to the music that dives out.

Setting it on your nightstand, you close your eyes and let the music ease you into your dreams. You’re left with a distinct feeling that lingers even when you wake up hours later.

You still feel like royalty.

main masterlist

please let me know what your thoughts are! You don’t necessarily have to be rooting for one of the boys specifically, but let me know who you think has the best shot/who you really swooned over! ;)

taglist is open, click on the link at the top of the post or let me know if you’d like to join!

taglist: @secretlycrazyhummingbird @marianeamine​ @hqtetsurou​ @protontippens​ @baepsaetay @dreamcatcherjiah @kookie-vuitton @thecaffeinatedscribbles @moon-write @fangirl125reader @heishichoulevi @knjkitten @sacha-cff @vik7797  @eusticenatalie @hesmyphenominiall @miriamxsworld   @luvtaeha @fanfictionreader05 @mininimmy @dreadity  @starlight-night0 @luzaroon @seaoffangirling @prachi05 @fangirl125reader @bluehairedotakugem @hunnibxbe @kayahay  @seokjinmoonfics @littletinyhobi @honeyhalcyon @yoontaethings @herrmionejgranger  @delacyrose224

[uwurakax]

another day ♡

pairing: oikawa x f!reader ♡

genre: angsty // exes // mutual pining ♡

summary: after the constant fighting and bubbling insecurities, you and oikawa both decide that breaking up is probably for the best. too bad that it wasn’t what either if you had wanted ♡

♡ read part one ‘save your tears’ here ♡

word count: 2k ♡

author’s note: super tired, i should be packing but im not lol, 4am gang ayyy. as always not proofread because i cannot stomach the idea of rereading what i wrote. this was what originally ‘save your tears’ was going to be, but part one got too long so haha. spoils of part one, so if you haven’t read it go ahead, or don’t lolol it could be read alone ig hurr hurr ♡

♡ (inspired by save your tears - the weeknd/ariana grande) ♡

At one point in time, you would’ve enjoyed an atmosphere like this; the blaring lights, pounding music, and even the heat radiating off warm bodies in a cramped space. It was much more enjoyable when you had the familiar, comforting presence of him.

Yes him: Oikawa Tōru. Also known as the the guy who broke your heart less than two months ago. You hadn’t seen him since the week after, finally being able to pick up everything and go. It was scary how silent it was between you two. The unit the both of you had made a home, your first home with him, just a little more barren. Just a little more bare.

Just a little more empty.

Once homely rooms were now plain. To anyone else, it could be called minimalistic or modern. Sleek if you were to exaggerate it. To the both of you however, it was just stone cold. A lifeless corpse. One poor imitation of what it once was.

And seeing it like this was almost enough to have your heart break for a second time. It was a physical representation of your relationship. The feelings of warmth, comfort, admiration, any and every word any literary body could ever akin to love was once found here. It was sad to see it gone, almost like it was never there. However if you looked past the surface you’d see all the small details of things that once occupied the room. The once full drawers now easily fitting clothes with plenty of room to spare. A countertop with products only to one half of the sink. The minuscule dust imprints left behind on the shelves that once housed your books.

The lingering smell of your perfume that was once so prominent.

You couldn’t tell, but Oikawa could. In the week you were gone, it slowly started to fade. The first night Oikawa was drowning in it. It clung to, what once was, your pillow and on the blanket. Choking and suffocating him with the sweet smell. He couldn’t bear to see the bed without you in it, and hated the God awful smell. Opening the window and facing away, he had a dreamless sleep that night.

And as the week passed, so did the scent of you.

He couldn’t explain why, but the moment he opened the door, his body felt at ease. His eyes blessed, even if you had those dark circles and slightly red eyes with unkempt hair. It was as if it was instinct to feel relief at being near you.

It was the longest few hours of Oikawa’s life that day, and somehow it was still just too short. Helping you gather your things, putting them into boxes and loading them into a tiny hired truck until eventually there was nothing left.

You were gone from the apartment, and now Oikawa’s life.

It was awkward the second time, saying goodbye. The finality of it all dawning on the both of you. You at least had this excuse to see each other once more. After this, there was nothing. No more reasons to come back, to call, message or even see each other again.

This was officially the last time you’d ever get to see Oikawa Tōru.

You’d both stood there for a few moments, only the wind against leaves and the occasional car offering any sort of background noise. Neither of you wanting or willing for this moment to end. Despite it all, it wasn’t hard to see that you both yearned for each other. Just how cruel it was that you couldn’t see it.

Oikawa kept your pillow close that night. The smell of you was so faint, he was sure that it wouldn’t be too long before it completely faded. As he held the plush item near his chest he couldn’t help but wonder what kind of life he could’ve had with you if he wasn’t so prideful? All the fantasies and white picket fences surged in his mind, and so he finally drifted off to sleep, thinking of you.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Here”

You turned to see your best friend handing you a glass of, well you weren’t sure exactly but anything to dull your senses at this point was okay in your book. Yes, almost two months since your breakup and you were still so torn. It was what he wanted right? Your lives are better this way. You’re sure his is. He wouldn’t have to hear you “nag” as he so put it, and you didn’t have to feel the exhaustion resulting because of it.

It was better this way. You knew it. Oikawa knew it. Your friends and family knew it. Heck even the old ladies down the damn street knew it.

So why did it feel so shitty.

You downed the drink quickly, not wanting to go through the spiral of emotions you were sure you were going to experience. You’d deal with the pain and hangover tomorrow like the adult you were. For now you just wanted to dance till your feet hurt, and then drink until they stopped hurting. A quick descent into self destruction that you’re sure you’d regret.

Or maybe you wouldn’t.

The moment you turned your head to get back to the dance floor you locked eyed with him.

For a moment you stopped breathing. The music faded out quickly and the patrons of the club disappeared. Suddenly it was just you and him.

He looked good this time around, nothing like the last time you saw him. His perfectly fluffed and styled hair that was just so effortlessly Oikawa had become messy bed head. His bright chocolate eyes that twinkled just a little with mischief when he smirked had become sunken. His whole demeanour had completely drooped into a depressive state. It hurt to see.

He wasn’t like that now. He looked like how he had been before. No longer were the remnants of a heartbroken man. Oikawa Tōru had gone back to his charming self once again.

A cute girl with silky, long black hair approached him and just as quick as they went, everything came flooding back; the music, people and you found yourself being able to breathe again.

She touched his arm and laughed. The look in her eyes filled with the glimmer coyness. Her body language oozed with flirty persona. It was all too familial.

You should’ve guessed that he’d date again. It wasn’t like he couldn’t. The moment you both severed the relationship he had every right to do what he wanted. You did too. Sure you were seeing someone, but it wasn’t like that.

All too, touchy-feely.

It hurt to see, you weren’t going to lie. Seeing the way he touched her, held her, danced with her. For a good portion of the night you saw it. Seeing him be with her, the way he used to with you. No longer being the main character in his story; you were in the audience, watching.

You didn’t want to stay until the ending.

Without a word, you briskly brushed passed sweaty bodies, being bumped a few times before you finally made it to the door and opened it.

You walked a couple paces to the middle of the footpath, deeply inhaling the fresh air. It wasn’t suffocating anymore. You fumbled with your purse, reaching inside to pull out your phone. With the glow of neon lights emanating behind you, you saw a stray tear on the blackness of your screen.

Fuck, when did that happen?

You wiped it with the palm of your hand, and went to unlock your phone. As you prepared to send a text you heard the call of your voice.

“Tōr-Oikawa?”

He mentally winced at this, the formal tone of using his surname struck something inside. He didn’t like it, not at all. It wasn’t right, it felt strange.

“What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here? You followed me”

“Right... I guess I just wanted to see how you were, that’s all” he looked away, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. You softened at this. It just took you back to why you fell for him in the first place. The little things like this, that made you feel cared for and loved. Perhaps for a few minutes you could be delusional and pretend that Oikawa still cared for you.

“I’m fine, what about you? How is everything going?” Yikes. You cringed at how awkward you were being. You supposed that that’s how it was, not exactly friends and not complete strangers either.

“Yeah fine too...” he trailed off, and just like that you were brought back to that time before you left. Before the official goodbye. Not ready to end things just yet, but neither knowing what more to say.

Just for a little while, let me remember every trace, curve and detail.

You didn’t know what came over you, but soon enough you found yourself drawing closer to Oikawa. He looked at you with half lidded eyes, not daring to move a step, almost afraid if he did it would ruin this moment with you. Yes, it was selfish but...

You lifted your hand to cup his cheek, just like a memory from before. Using the pad of your thumb, you gently brushed over the soft skin. Ever so delicately, you traced down his jaw. The intimacy of your movements crossed a boundary between you. You knew it and he did too. You’d let yourselves be greedy though.

Oikawa raised his own hands to touch your face, perfectly ingraining it into his mind and body. His fingers slowly going over your features. He wouldn’t allow himself to forget any part of you.

It wasn’t long until you both wanted to overstep more.

The longing between you too great to try and stop. Eventually you both moved closer, faces and soul alike reaching for the other. Just a bit closer.

“Y/N?”

“Oikawa?”

You both frantically pulled away, heart racing now.

“Kageyama..”

“Tobio”

Oikawa tried to hide the venom in his voice, he really did, but when he saw Kageyama make his way beside you he couldn’t help but see red.

It didn’t seem like life was playing a very fair game.

“Oikawa are you alright?” He looked down at the petite girl beside him, now clinging to his arm. He threw on one of his brilliant smiles and told her it was okay.

“Are you cold? Here” Oikawa couldn’t keep up that smile for too long, not when he saw him putting his jacket around you. How you snuggled into the warmth. How it showed Oikawa that you were no longer his, and that you now found solace in another.

He couldn’t blame you, he knew that deep inside. He did the same, why shouldn’t you? It didn’t stop the burning hatred and envy he felt. The overwhelming sadness that enveloped him. All a heavy dump of emotions thrown on him within a few seconds.

You felt it too though. That girl hanging off his arm. Getting to parade around that Oikawa was hers. It was totally unreasonable to feel this way. You both ended things. It was mutual right? You would’ve told him and he would’ve told you if this breakup was a mistake right?

Right?

“Wanna go?” Kageyama whispered in your ear. You nodded.

“It was nice seeing you again T-Oikawa” you smiled sadly.

“You too Y/N...bye” you both turned away, walking in opposite directions. With every step, your heartache grew just a little more. Almost like your body needed to be near his, the memories it held being more truthful than your head could ever be.

Your heart, body and soul wanted Oikawa.

Your mind told you to let him go for his sake.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Hey Oikawa?”

“Yes Kageyama?”

“Hmm?”

“He was your ex right? Oikawa?”

“That girl back there, is she her? The ex?

“Yeah he was”

“Yeah, she was”

“Do you still love him?”

“Do you still love her?”

There was a pause and you both stopped, mulling the question over.

Did you still love each other? It wasn’t hard to tell, everyone knew the answer. Ask any stranger but...

“No”

..

...

..

You both lied.

[imatechbummerliketomholland]

"ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʙᴏᴏᴋ, ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ?" - ʜ.ᴏ

Hello to you! There it is! My first Harrison request. I'm working for a one shot with him, but it takes me so long because it's a little angst. But don't worry, this one is just fluff! I hope you'll all like it! I did not have time to be reread and corrected. So be indulgent once again, English is not my native language.

Summary: harrison met you in this coffe/bookstore where you friend worked. Since that day, he tried to ask you out but nothing really worked he would like. Until that day. Word count: 2690 Warning: some of swear, spoilers of "one day" by David Nicholls" Pairing : harrison osterfield Request: yes!

You walked happily into the store, heading towards the counter where your best friend was. “The cup and feather” was a second home to you. The warm atmosphere that reigned in the bookstore/cafe has always seduced you. There was a peace of mind that relaxed your muscles: the woody decor, the warm and captivating light, the mixed smell of old/new books and coffee. You were leaning on the counter where Maya was completing an order for a regular.

“Good morning Luke! Enjoy your drink!” you said with a large smile.

“Hello dear y/n! Thanks sweetie! Let me know if you want to drink something. It’s on me”

“It won’t be necessary but thank you. I appreciate!”

The customer adds a generous 10-pound bill to the tip pot with a wink at you. Maya thanked Luke and then gave you a broken look. You gave her an amused smile, shaking your head, already anticipating her next line. But nothing could dissipate your good mood, your day was good.

"It's unbelievable how my tips increase when you're here. What's your secret?"

“Hello to you too, dear best friend. I don't have a secret...but maybe, try to be...nicer to customers? Give them a smile while you're taking their order! ”

“Hello honey. I’m so thankful you’re here. It’s a boring day”

It was a pretty quiet day, there weren't a lot of customers. The rather gloomy London weather seemed to have put them off. A huge thunderous sound echoed outside and Maya jumped. You had a sympathetic and somewhat amused smile. You liked the storm. To be honest, you liked the storm when you weren't alone: feel the heavy, electric atmosphere before the refreshing rain falls. She looked out the window with annoyance.

"Jesus. It looks like it's gonna be a long day" she complained

“Don’t be so dramatic! Let me help. How can I help you?”

“There is this book cart that I have to put away and that has been lying around for an hour. But my boss would kill me if he found out that someone who actually doesn’t work here, did it for me”

Maya gave you a knowing look. It wasn't that she hated you helping her with her work, on the contrary, you were quite useful to her. But she would have preferred that you spend your free time other than helping her. You took a few books from the cart, sticking your tongue out at your best friend and rushing down the aisles of the library section. The distinct sound of a heavy downpour was heard outside and a few seconds later, the store door opened to let in two young, but also handsome, men. Maya bit her lip as one of the individuals approached the counter with a polite but warm smile. He seemed tall, with a thin but toned build, thin lips, his blue eyes pierced her from the moment his eyes met hers; a fucking model.

"Hello. Do you mind if we stay a little while the downpour subsides?" he asked.

" Hell no, of course! You can stay as long as you want as long as I can admire you… uh, shit, no, as long as you order something… did I say the other part out loud?

The second boy laughed, but nothing mocking. He was shorter than the guy across from Maya, brown hair and chocolate eyes, muscular arms but not sculpted like a bodybuilder. He seemed in good shape.

The blonde raised his eyebrows, an amused smile on his lips.

"I'm afraid so. Um ... okay. Tom?" he turned to his friend "Do you want to drink something?"

"Black tea. A single sugar and a drop of milk."

Your friend nodded meaning she heard it and then she patiently waited for the blonde to place his order.

"I'll have mint tea. Just one sugar too."

"Noted! Feel free to go grab a book once you've settled in."

The blonde smiled at Maya as he turned slightly to the tables to settle in with his friend. You were immersed in reading a synopsis when you finally returned to the counter. You looked up too late while talking to your best friend.

"Hey, Maya can I keep - ouch"

You had just hit a rather solid chest and your eyes widened in surprise. Two hands grabbed your shoulders before the fall, stabilizing you on your two good. And thank you, handsome stranger because you would have been able to let yourself fall so as not to drop the book you were holding in your hands.

"Everything's alright, love?"

"Huh Huh" You barely said, still a little surprised by the impact.

He smiled at you and finally joined Tom at a table without giving you a chance to thank him. You leaned against the counter giving your best friend an indecipherable expression.

"Who are these guys?"

"I know, right?" Maya whispered, biting her lips again.

You smiled to her. You and your best friend had the same tastes when it came to boys. So it was no wonder that they found them attractive.You quickly gave a last look on the mysterious guy before focusing on the cart again. Your logic wanted you to go back and forth rather than pushing this wheeled machine. And deep down, it was also an excuse to admire the blond boy at the table 7. When you came back from your last trip down the aisles and there were no books left on the cart. You noticed with a sad expression on your face that both boys were gone. What did you expect? A romantic scene where love story is born in the aisles of a bookstore cafe. What's the point? You might not even have been his type. Correction: You were certainly not his type. Maya came over to you, a mischievous half-smile on her face.

"If you're wondering. His name is Harrison. I heard his friend call him. And he kindly tipped you 25 pounds."

"I don't work here."

"It's just like"

"I would probably never see him again, Maya"

"Believe me, I have a feeling that you will."

☙♡❧

And she was right. The following week did not bring the handsome stranger, the following week either. You had totally, or almost, forgotten this delicious abrupt encounter. You were in the aisles of the cafe, looking for the next book you were going to devour when you were politely tapped on the shoulder, a throat clearing accompanying the gesture.

"Hm, excuse me?"

You turned around and your eyes widened a little in surprise. You did not expect, or more, to see this beautiful stranger again. He was holding a book in his hands and looked nervous. His demeanor was endearing and you couldn't help but suppress a shy smile.

"Yes?"

"I'm looking to get my mom a book. I've heard of this one but ... I wanted your advice."

You raised an amused eyebrow. He wanted to buy a book from his mom and he went to a coffee shop to ask you for advice on a book he obviously couldn't buy here. You found this sweet and awkward. You gave him a shy and mischievous smile.

“You know you're not supposed to buy the books here… just read them. »You joked

"Hmm, yeah ... but ... I wanted your opinion since ..."

"I don't work here ..."

The surprise was read in his eyes as in yours but for different reasons. Harrison felt silly for asking you when you weren't an employee. You, you were surprised by your tone, which seemed so cold when it was not your intention. You didn’t want to be rude to him. In fact, he makes you a little bit uncomfortable. You had never been so awkward with a boy but, for some reason you didn't know, his piercing blue eyes bowled you over. You couldn't deny that you were drawn to him and there was something really spellbinding about Harrison. To catch up you glanced at the book, you wrinkled his nose and you scratched your head

“I'm sorry, this is not the kind of novel I read ... But if she read Fifty-shade of Grey ... this book might please her” you told him, somewhat embarrassed.

Harrison gave you a confused look and you pointed to the cover of the book. To be fair, although he won't admit it, Harrison had grabbed the first book he saw off the storage cart and it actually turned out that it was an erotic fiction rather categorized in the young adult, a bestseller. Honestly, you didn't know where to put yourself. You watched the cheeks of the boy in front of you turn deep red.

"Okay ... Okay. I wasn't there for my mom."

"No shame ..." you tried to comfort him

"No..no i swear. It..i'm … okay ...

A boy with curly hair appeared in the aisle, calling out to the young man, breaking that awkward moment between you at the same time. Harrison's friend seemed vaguely familiar to you, as if you knew him or seemed to know him.

"Harrison, we're late. Tom's gonna kill me, mate!"

Harrison gave a sigh of relief that he seemed to have held back. He gave you a sorry smile and apologized before leaving you, putting the book down on a shelf. They headed for the exit and you stayed there, without moving, still challenged by this moment. You heard a laugh that came from the curl without actually hearing the reason.

"Did you ask her advice about 365 DNI? What kind of div are you?"

"Shut up Harry."

And Harry's laugh echoed one more time before the door closed on them. After a few seconds, you returned to the counter where your best friend was. She nodded at you, as if asking like it had happened. You have to shake your head negatively while shrugging your shoulders. It was the most bizarre interaction you have had in your life. A total failure. With that, he was sure you would never see him again.

☙♡❧

But you were wrong again. You were, again and again, at the cafe. Maya was finishing her shift and you were sitting at a table with a book in your hand. You were in your own little world when your gaze was drawn to a male hand, wearing rings highlighting the veins of that said hand, placing a cup of latte on your table.

"I didn't order any-" you said before interrupting you.

Harrison was in front of you, a shy little smile drawn across his face. You frowned, intrigued. How had he guessed your favorite drink? A simple glance over the blond's shoulder told you your answer: Maya was smiling at you, thumbs up, as a token of encouragement. You looked Harrison, pursed your lips, flattered by the gesture.

“I wanted to apologize for the other time.” Harrison finally spoke.

“It's nothing ... I..I hope your mom liked the book.” you just told him with a little smile

"I… It wasn't for her."

"Oh..for whom?" you asked intrigued.

He smirked, amused by your carelessness. Was he not obvious, however? Since the day he met you, the actor hadn't stopped thinking about you. Tom and Harry kept telling him that he was completely whipped and looked like a fool.

"For no one actually. I grabbed the first book I found."

"But why?" you seemed more confused.

"I wanted to see you. It was a pretext… I didn't know how to approach you."

Your cheeks turned as red as Harrison's the last you met him. You were flattered but at the same time surprised to know that he was interested in you. You've replaced a strand of hair behind your ear, blushing. An awkward silence has settled between you two. Neither of them really knew how to break the ice. Harrison looked up at the book you had put on the table when he arrived.

"What do you read?" he asked interested

“One day by David Nicholls. It’s the one of the most moving books I have ever read.”

And you started talking for hours about how this book moved you and how Anne Hathaway and Jim Sturgess' portrayal in the film adaptation blew your mind. How you went from laughter to tears to anger. How you got attached to the characters in both the book and the movie. Harrison couldn't stop you. He admired you talking with passion and found you endearing. The way you spoke with your hands or the way you frowned when some character action disturbed you. You were in your world and he wanted to enter it.

"I hope we end up like them." He said, interrupting you.

You suddenly stopped in your monologue looking at Harrison puzzled. You didn't expect this. First, because by knowing the story of this novel. You didn't want anyone to experience people's stories, no matter how beautiful it was. Second, did Harrison just say he was considering something with you?

"Like who?" you asked

"Emma and Dexter ... I hope we have such a great story."

You pursed your lips, amused. You swallowed to keep from laughing and you shook your head. You were sure he didn't read the book but you wanted to play with him a little.

"I don't hope so."

"Why? Their love story is beautiful!"

"You haven't read this book have you?"

"Of course yes!" he defended himself, uncomfortable.

In truth, he was lying. He was trying to impress you. He had simply said he wanted to live this love affair to soften you and try to approach you to ask for a date. Once again, you smiled, genuinely amused by the boy in front of you. He looked so innocent and so confident in her walk. But you knew ... You knew he hadn't read the book.

"Harrison, she dies at the end"

Harrison's cheeks have once again turn red. He played with his hands nervously, embarrassed. He was an idiot, a complete fucking div. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to let go of all the stress he had accumulated but also to find a way to make up for it. You were blowing him outright. He thought you were so beautiful and had never been so awkward about approaching a girl. Of course, Harry had introduced him to his ex-girlfriend. But, the actor had never had a hard time flirting. He knew his strengths, he was kinda funny, can't deny he was pretty handsome, after all he was a model. He was also an actor, he could play all emotions, recite hundreds of lines of dialogue. But you looked different and he was unable to have a conversation with you without being ridiculous. You found that rather adorable.

"Okay, okay. I don't hope we end up like them."

“I hope you don't wait 20 years before asking me out?”

Harrison looked at you surprised. Did you really just reach out to her? Did he hear what you just said or did his imagination play a dirty trick on him? Her heart skipped a beat. You pursed your lips before putting on a warm but shy smile. You weren't that confident in normal times but ... but it was pushing you out of your comfort zone. You liked him, his clumsiness made you laugh and moved you a lot. You wanted to know him better. And with a simple smile, Harrison knew he had the green light.

"Would you ... have coffee with me?"

"I'm already taking one with you, idiot" you joked ...

"Yeah..hmm, okay ... um. Would you like to go on a date ... one day?"

Your smile widened. You didn't know if he had chosen his last words intentionally but you liked to think he had. And if it wasn't, that awkwardness had melted your heart. You bit your lip, a smile still on your face. Your cheeks were rosy with emotion. Eventually, you might have had your romantic story at a coffee shop / bookstore.

“Yes, Harrison. I would like to go out with you.

[theimmaterialplace]

holding on | emily prentiss x reader & spencer reid x reader | ch. 1: prologue

Summary: Emily is an easy person to love, even if you shouldn't. This becomes apparent when she leaves you after two years of hiding your relationship, if you could call it that, with just a text. It's not long after that you are alerted with news of her death and you break down completely. Confiding in Spencer, the one to introduce the two of you, seemed like a good idea at the time but it becomes something more. You slowly begin to heal and then one day you see her, alive and well, and every feeling you have for her comes back to you. You're met with both your present and your past and you don't know what to do.

Contains: female!reader, bisexual!reader, friends with benefits/ hidden relationships, mentions of death, angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2k

A.N: I like making things complicated and messy so here we are! I hope you enjoy whatever the hell this is! Also, this is first time writing for cm so sorry if the characterization is off; we’ll get there eventually!

masterlist | read on ao3

I want to be the power ballad that lifts you up and hold you down

I wanna be the broken love song that feeds your misery

And I can wish all I want, but it won't bring us together

Plus I know whatever happens to me

I know it's for the better

- Phoebe Bridgers, "Waiting Room"

It’s not uncommon for you to wait on Emily but even this is a new level of tardiness you’ve never encountered with her. She’s nothing if not kind and always alerts you when she’s on a new case or has to reschedule. It worries you to say the least.

You really shouldn’t care this much for her but mistakes are supposed to be made. It’s just that you can’t even begin to consider Emily a mistake but if she is one, she’s the best mistake you’ve ever made.

Sometimes, you think she looks at you with something akin to adoration in her eyes and it takes every bit of your control not to look at her with that same exact look. She’s a profiler, after all, and you’re typically one to wear your heart on your sleeve but she made herself very clear in the beginning.

Your agreement was simply just a friends with benefits situation, no feelings involved. That lasted for a while, truly. You had managed a little over a year with her before you realized that the feeling in your stomach was the fluttering of butterflies. It had frightened you but you decided that she was worth it, even if the decision might come back to haunt you.

Twirling the wine of glass in your hand, you contemplate calling her but decide against it because you don’t want to seem desperate. It may be an accurate description but you weren’t going to show that. Ignoring the waiter who’s been shooting you knowing looks for the past hour, you decide just to leave. You call the waiter over and ask for the check. He just nods at your words; his eyes filled with pity and it pisses you off more than anything,

It’s not that you care that you got stood up because you understand that her work is demanding. It’s more that you’re worried for her because she’s been inactive and short in her recent messages. You hadn’t received a good morning or good night text in days. It makes you wonder if she’s finally gotten sick of you. You’d like to believe that she would at least grace you with a text informing you of this decision but you’re not the best at predicting her.

Emily is a very closed off person and you respect that, you do. It’s just sometimes you wish she didn’t compartmentalize every part of her life into tiny, separate boxes. She likes to pretend that you and Spencer aren’t friends, even though it’s how you were originally met. She tells you that no one needs to know and at the beginning, you were okay with this but lying to Spencer is something you wish you didn’t have to do.

You have to pretend not to know every little bit of Emily she shares with you that she also shares with her team and try not to focus on every little detail he shares about her that you don’t already know. You feel a bit guilty but you figure that she wouldn’t really mind. The only thing that would make her annoyed, never mad because she says anger is useless, is if you mixed her personal life with her work life. You understand to a degree but you also wish that you didn’t have to hide.

Clearly, you were too far gone for her. You always had to take a step back and remember that you weren’t in a relationship with her. If only she didn’t make it so easy to love her. When this ended, you were going to end up heartbroken and that was okay with you. You had accepted that a long time ago but now that you’re actually faced with the inevitable, it scares you.

Emily Prentiss was not the first woman you were with but she’ll be the one to always haunt you. She’s shaped you into the person you are today without even knowing it. You’ll never regret your decision to be with her but you’ll always be left with the “what ifs”.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the man who sits across from you and it’s only until he coughs that he brings you back to reality.

He’s handsome in a rugged sort of way. If you weren’t so enamored with Emily, he surely would have fired something in you but as it is, she is the only one able to cause a spark in you.

“Hi, I saw you here and couldn’t help but notice how you’re alone. Such a shame since you seem like such a catch.” His voice fits him well and he has a nice smile despite its crookedness.

“Ah, my date couldn’t make it. I guess he got busy with work or something. It happens to the best of us.” His eyes narrow the slightest bit at use of “he” and you wonder why. He’s the one hitting on you, after all. It’s gone as soon as it comes and he’s back to those kind eyes.

“Oh, he’s one of those. Well, I know when I’m unwanted when I hear it. Have a lovely night…” He shoots you one last smile and gets up and leaves the restaurant. The waiter shows up and you pay immediately and get into your car as soon as you can.

It’s only when you arrive at home do you see it. You have one new message from Emily and it brings a smile to your face until you see the contents.

Emily <3

I think it’s time we called it quits.

Don’t contact me anymore.

Goodbye.

At first, you feel nothing. You reread it and reread it until it’s practically ingrained into your vision. You knew it was coming but seeing it actually made it real and before you know it, you’re crying.

You feel like a fool because you’ve known that this was just a casual thing for her. It doesn’t make it any easier to accept. Perhaps what hurts the most is her demand to not contact her anymore. You would have been fine, loving her at a distance but remaining friends. Emily cutting you off completely had never been a possibility in your mind. It almost makes you want to laugh though because although you’d never thought of it, it’s such an Emily thing to do. You just never thought it’d be something to happen to you.

A fool, you might be, but better to have loved than to have not. It’s like you had thought earlier, Emily would never leave you, even if she had in person. There would always be reminders of her in your life; in the interior design of your home, in the music you listened to, in the movies and books you had shared together, and in the hidden, ignored corners of your heart.

It hurt. God, did her short messages pain you but you’d seen it coming. You had time to accept it but that did nothing to quell the tears that fell down your face or the sobs that wracked your body.

You cry yourself to sleep, still in the dress she bought you, the one she said you looked your best in and always brought out her coyness to the fullest.

When you wake up, you’re thankful it’s a Saturday because you can’t imagine facing anyone today. The most you want to do is get drunk on every bottle of wine you own, which is quite a few. You hope it’ll be enough to keep your mind off of Emily.

You go to the bathroom and you can’t help but wince at the image you make. Your makeup has run all over your face and you look like la llorona with the mascara and eyeliner running down your cheeks. Your lipstick is smeared beyond comprehension and overall, you look like a mess, not even a hot one at that.

You look like the stereotypical girl who has just gotten heartbroken and so you scrub it all off until your skin is clear of the previous night’s emotions. You change into something comfortable, throwing the dress into the hamper rather than the trash because you can’t bear the thought of throwing away things from her. Maybe it’d be the smart thing to do but you can’t.

You’re in a sort of limbo and you’re unsure of where to go from here. You’ve accidentally built up your life around her and now that she’s gone, you’re left with nothing but yourself.

-

It’s only a week later that Spencer shows up to your place, looking worse for wear. He looks like you did on that day when Emily broke up with you but worse. His eyes are bloodshot and his nose is bright red against his pale complexion.

“Um, could I come in?” His voice cracks and he only shrinks further into himself and you nod at him, opening the door to accompany his skinny frame.

You guide him to your couch and place the cup of tea you had made for yourself into his hands since it seemed like they needed something in them with all the twitching they were doing.

You sit in silence, knowing that whatever he had to say would eventually come out.

His tea has stopped steaming when he finally speaks up. “Today, my colleague was taken by the person she had been chasing after. We found her and apprehended the person she had been chasing but… But we were too late. By the time we had gotten there, she was already wounded and she was pronounced dead two hours, thirteen minutes, and twenty seven seconds ago. She’s dead and I never got to say goodbye.” With his proclamation, his tears begin again and you take the cup from his hands.

“May I hug you, Spencer?” He nods and that’s all it takes for you to take him into your arms. He sobs into the crook of your neck. It’s hard to connect the image of the nerd you know and care for to the man who’s breaking down in your arms. You rub soothing circles on his back and try to keep up with his words but they’re too quiet and unintelligible to your ears.

The both of you sit there like that for a while. It could have been five minutes or an hour but you can’t tell and you bet he can’t either.

When he finally runs out of tears, he whispers something so quietly that you think you’ve misheard him.

“I never got to say goodbye to Emily.”

Emily . She’s his colleague. He had said she in his retelling of the events. It takes your breath away and you have to stop the tears from coming on because you’re not supposed to care for her, not like this. Not in front of anybody, especially not Spencer.

She’s dead. Emily is dead. It’s a truth you don’t want to accept. It makes you glad that Spencer is still hidden in your neck because you’re sure your face can only show the agony you feel over such a reveal.

Your worst nightmare has come true, it seems. You don’t want this. Anything but her leaving you permanently. She can’t be dead, not the woman who’s changed you so irrevocably and made you feel like life was worth living.

You could accept loving her in quiet, away from her, but not at the cost of her death. You can’t deal with this, not when Spencer needs you so push it away. You shove the pain and agony down until you’re numb.

You’re supposed to be nothing but an acquaintance to her. She hadn’t even loved you. You shouldn’t feel like your heart has been ripped violently from your body and that your soul will always have an Emily sized hole left in the wake of her death.

You focus on Spencer so that you don’t break down and you’re grateful that he doesn’t notice your little episode. You can’t confront this in front of anybody. It’s better to deal with your grief in private, just like everything else you did with Emily. It made sense for the last thing you’ll ever do for her to stay quiet and watch from afar.

[minty-malfoy]

reading between the lines

• pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

• summary: draco takes you on a date that involves lots of hand holding and a cozy bookshop.

• request: Hi! I was wondering if you could write a Draco malfoy imagine where he and the reader are dating, and he takes her for a hogsmeade date at a bookshop, because she is a bookworm, and they pick books for each other and he pays for everything?

• word count: 2.9k

a/n: no thoughts head empty just draco fluff. this is meant to be a breather after all the angsty love triangle fics i wrote for this boy

oh & this would've been out way sooner if I stopped being too much of a perfectionist (which I did like midway) so yeah I'm finally putting it out and just hoping for the best. my writing style had a weird identity crisis when I was working on this, but let's pretend it didn't. enjoy!

"Cold, isn't it?"

You look up at the voice's owner, only to catch a mixture of sympathy and a terribly smug I told you so on his pretty face.

Despite your scoff, you know he's right, and so does he. The chilly autumn air was penetrating through the fabric of your coat, mercilessly tickling the skin underneath; feeling like an in between that's neither as icy and cold as winter, nor as warm and friendly as summer. Regardless, it's something that your boyfriend, whom your fingers are laced with, doesn't seem to like.

"C'mere," he finally grumbles, tugging you closer towards him. "Merlin, (y/n), couldn't have underdressed more than this, could you?" he says bitterly, but his eyes display the complete opposite. You've learned to recognize the glint of affection in his orbs quite easily by now.

"I was in a hurry!" you exclaim with a wide grin that betrays your stern excuse. "And you don't have to be so rude and mean about it."

"Well, pardon me for being against the idea of my girlfriend freezing out in this weather. Now enough of that, give me your hands," he orders, because the only other thing Draco would be against is the idea of arguing with you, especially when it's over such trivial things. This was just his way of deflating the situation.

You eye him curiously as his hands rub into yours, enveloping them completely with his own. Then when he catches you staring, a small smirk finds its way onto his lips. Suddenly he's lifting one of your hands to his face, holding it right under his mouth before placing a few soft breathy kisses there. Even with the fabric of your glove in between, you can still easily feel the warm contact of his lips.

You can't tell whether it's due to the cold air that a blush paints itself on Draco's cheeks, but you decide not to think about it, because now you're looking away to hide a blush of your own.

Both of you continue walking with hands still entwined, letting the air glide around your bodies softly. It's a complete juxtaposition of the ecstatic impatience pulsing through your veins, all contained behind your soft smile that Draco doesn't need to point out or question. He knows you're excited, and he knows the reason perfectly well.

You've been giddy ever since he proposed taking you on a bookshop date. After all, it involved two of the things you loved most: Draco Malfoy, and your undying passion for reading. It was no secret how often Draco found you deeply engrossed in a book, without fail making him feel awestruck and simultaneously envious. Not that he would ever admit he got jealous over an inanimate object, of course, and least of all to you.

Deep down, Draco's more than happy to see the joy in your eyes when you're rereading one of your favorite books, or the cheerfulness in your smile after picking up a new one. He loves you and your hobby all the same.

When you finally make it to the bookshop, you practically have to hold back from stampeding directly into it, pursing your lips into a line to contain your enthusiasm. This, of course, doesn't go without Draco's notice, and you don't mind the chuckle he sends your way. You're far too occupied with the thought of gliding your fingers over the eclectic book collections.

He pulls you inside gently while eyeing your reaction the entire time, and frankly, he can't help but melt at the way your eyes light up in childlike wonder, the way you take in the familiar scent of parchment, and the way you finally turn to him with an uncontainable grin.

"I have a proposal to make," you announce, unaware of the way your grin makes his heart skip a bit.

"Should I be worried?" he smirks.

"We should pick a book for eachother!"

Draco thinks over the idea in his head for a moment or two, finding it hard to deny that it was rather pointless to him. Neither of you are sure what the other would like, and for the most part, his concerns are true. But then again, it's the way your smile brightens up at the idea, coupled up with his curiosity as to what you'd possibly pick for him, that ultimately leads him to accept the suggestion.

You give his hand a light squeeze before finally pulling away and parting to another section of the bookshop. Draco's left to stare at his empty hand with an obvious frown. Maybe he shouldn't have agreed to this, he thinks, as he's missing the contact already. All he wants is to have you nearby, to see the enthusiasm in your face from each book that you pull out. But when his eyes meet yours in the far off corner of the bookshop, he smiles tenderly, and decides to let you be. There's always more time for physical affection later.

Back in your spot in the bookshop, you're already eyeing the countless racks of books in wonder, roaming over every cover and title curiously. For once, you're somewhat thankful to have time and space to yourself from the blonde slytherin. To select a book for him, you would have to be methodical and punctilious. Neither are ever easy when he's around, when it feels like your rational thinking is all turned into mush. Hence, rather than wasting a single second, you immediately focus on the task at hand.

For a brief moment, you wonder if Draco had already deduced the type of book you'd get him, considering how obvious it is by the section you instantly went towards.

Non-fiction, the factual informative reading that might suit his tastes and interests. Something under astronomy seems to make the most sense, although then again, you assume he already knows most there is to know under that natural science. School related studies like potions and transfiguration cross your mind as well, albeit briefly, because you're not sure what good it would be to give someone a book on something they're already quite good at.

You toss your thoughts back and forth as your fingers fumble over multiple books, hoping one of them could strike you with a burst of inspiration. But it isn't until a peculiar idea lights up like a light bulb in your head. You didn't necessarily have to give Draco something he would like, as long as your choice would be meaningful and thoughtful.

That's exactly how you make up your mind and gingerly pull out a certain book with a content smile, keeping it tucked under your arm as you continue to browse the selection for a few books for yourself.

"All done, love?"

You spin around in one swift motion, quickly hiding the book you chose for him behind your back, although it wasn't the easiest thing to do when you had a couple other in your hold.

"What do we have here?" he cheekily tries to catch a peek, but you're already backing away spontaneously.

"It's a surprise!" you squeal, and Draco already has his hands held out innocently, chuckling slightly when he says, "Alright, alright. Now let's go purchase all these books."

You follow him to the cashier where you hand over all the items you've been holding. You reach for your purse in the bag you had with you, rummaging around for it with your fingers. But when you finally pull it out with a triumphant smile, you find that Draco has beat you to it, and he's already paying for all the books you chose.

You give him a look that says that's not fair, but you know it's just one of his many ways of showing his adoration for you.

He picks up the paper bags and begins heading towards the exit, where he's stopped midway by a kiss on the cheek. In other words, your little way of thanking him.

"keep doing that and I'll end up buying you this entire bookshop," he tells you in a half joke, betraying the fact that deep down he's rather serious about the idea. Draco Malfoy had come to a point where spending money was the least of his worries when it came to you.

"Tempting," you hum. "but you know I'd rather do it for free." you get up on your tiptoes again and plant a second kiss on his cheek, as if to prove your point. His hand reaches for the spot with an affectionate look directed your way; not entirely used to receiving the loving words and gestures that you give him.

"There's another bookshop nearby. Fancy giving it a look?" he asks with a wink.

You let out a faux gasp, smacking his shoulder playfully, "If you want more kisses, all you have to do is ask! And besides, I'll make sure to give you lots of them when we get back."

He smiles widely, leaning closer to whisper in your ear, "Well, I'll make sure you stay true to your word on that."

The two of you giggle as you finally walk back out into the outdoors, where the cold air greets you before anything else could. You're trying your best not to shiver, mainly out of knowing it might ignite a second wave of Draco's lecturing. Not that he'd notice, really, he's far too busy staring at that pretty smile of yours and how much he wants to capture it with the matching one on his face.

And he almost would have if you didn't snap him out of his thoughts, reaching for a specific book and pulling it out for him to see. It didn't take much to figure out what you were doing, so he grabbed a book of his own before you both exchanged the two items.

"How did you know what I'd like?" you ask him, gazing at the hardback under your fingers, feeling the texture you've become familiar with against your skin. But when Draco doesn't respond, you take a glance at him with a raised brow.

"Romance?" he blinks in confusion a few times, struggling to hide the surprise at your choice of what was, frankly, not his cup of tea. He's not entirely sure on what to say, so you fill in the silence for him.

"I know it doesn't suit your tastes, but I thought it would be nice to get you something I like instead. Kind of like showing you a part of me that you'll only understand through things like books."

He looks between you and the book, processing the explanation that you gave him. Until finally, his signature smile is back on his face and he says, "I won't promise that I'll like it."

In moments like these, it was easy to read between the lines, when Draco showed his love through actions much more than words. "I won't promise that I'll like it" rather meant "I'm willing to give it a shot only because it means something to you" and it held a larger amount of affection than he let on.

"What?" Draco asks, noticing the stupid lovesick grin decorating your face.

"Oh, nothing. You're adorable."

He raises a challenging brow to match his response, "I think either menacing or charming is far more suitable. Adorable is far off the list." but you still notice the blush on his cheeks. It's not that hard to miss, honestly, with the color of his skin.

"I stand by my statement."

Draco nearly snorts at this, already thinking of an alternative counter argument. One quickly comes to mind, "Try telling that to someone like Weasley. Bet he'd puke before he could even begin proving you wrong."

You roll your eyes, "Well, he's not the one you're snogging or taking on bookshop dates, is he?"

Draco sucks in a sharp breath, stuck between finding it useless to continue the disagreement while also grimacing at the sudden image of him snogging Ron Weasley, likely a potential nightmare fuel to haunt him in his sleep.

"Please never mention that thought ever again," he begs you before switching the conversation to a lighter topic. "Where would you like to head to now, my dear?"

You already have an idea in mind, and you have the feeling Draco would like it just as much.

• • •

And like it he does, although that word is nowhere close to describing the fondness he feels in the moment; having you tucked in between his legs with your back against his chest, the both of you hidden in a spot beside the Black Lake where no one would be around to disrupt.

You melt into him, feeling every intake of air that enters his respiratory, eliciting the soft rise and fall of his chest. You feel every thud of his heartbeat against your skin and every single vibration of his occasional humming.

His free hand is wrapped around your waist to pull you closer into him, where his thumb is absentmindedly rubbing your skin every now and then. It all turned reading into a nearly impossible task, which was a first for someone like you.

"How's the book?" you ask him in hopes of a distraction— which you earn far too easily. Instead of the book in your hands, you're now fixated on the way Draco's lids flutter when he blinks at you, and the way he licks his lips that have gone dry from the crisp air.

"Underwhelming," he begins. "These two idiots are clearly in love, and it would've all been over by the first chapter if either of them made a move."

Draco had thought that this comment was enough to make you attempt reasoning with him; to defend the fiction novel he was reading. What he did not expect, however, was to hear you giggle, bright and clear as day.

He looks at you in confusion, hoping to get handed an explanation.

"You do realize that's exactly how we were back then?" you utter, looking into his grey eyes once again. Both of you take a moment to recall the memory, smiling silently at the image of two clueless lovesick idiots wondering if the other liked them just as much.

"Hm, I suppose if you put it that way." Draco finally affirms. His fingers begin reaching for yours, where both meet in a loving entanglement. "Honestly, (y/n), how was I supposed to know you fancied me when all you did was bloody look away?"

"That's only because I was too nervous to look at you!" you huff out. "I'm beginning to think I should get you more of those romance novels."

You don't hear a reply, but you feel the smile in his lips as he presses soft wet kisses into your skin, followed by the hot breaths that are a contrast to the freezing air. Draco notices this fact from the tiny shivers of your body, and he begins to pull away gently.

"Come now, love, we should head back inside before it gets too cold."

You pout at his offer; enjoying yourself in the current activity far too much, even if you've left the reading part of it unattended. Having Draco's arms around you with your fingers laced together was all that mattered.

Your lover frowns at your reaction, wishing you weren't so stubborn when the cold is biting your skin, but he makes sure to vocalize a second offer; one he knows you wouldn't refuse, "I could read to you in my room if you'd like."

And that's all it takes for you to beam an appreciative grin at him.

"And someone would have to warm up that body of yours. Can't exactly do that out here," he adds, referring to the darkening sky and the decreasing temperature enveloping your bodies. But you seemed to have misread his statement, or perhaps you were purposefully trying to tease him. Either way, a smirk was sitting on your expression that didn't go unnoticed.

"Not in that way, love," he drawls out, letting out a small laugh that vibrates into your skin. "Unless that's what you'd like?"

Your hand immediately comes into contact with his chest in the form of a playful smack, although you can't hide the amused smile on your face. In turn, Draco dramatically gasps out, "I've been wounded!"

For a moment, all that exists is the sound of your laughter coming together like a muddled up choir and the feeling of fingers wrapped together. When the laughter dies down, and you're finally brought back into the present, you pull Draco into a warm hug. You savor the scent of his familiar cologne and the sound of his thudding heart, wishing you could stay that way for the slightest bit longer.

Although it takes a few seconds for him to wrap his own hands around your frame, when he does, it feels nothing short of perfect. His head rests in the junction between your neck and shoulder, where you can feel each of his warm breaths stroke against your skin.

"We should go on these bookdates more often," he suggests, and with the happiest smile you tell him, "I'm not against that idea."

draco taglist — @arossebyanyothername @kawaii-angelanne @thefandomplace @yuosmi @bbeauttyybbx @mywellspringoflife @slytherinsunrise @avatarbeeb @scarlet-says-hi @lunars

[pedropascallovebot]

had to repost this because my internet is awful but huzzah i have returned from a writing hiatus i have been doing nothing but reading sambucky fics and i decided to curse the world with a bucky x reader even though no one asked me to. you may now put me in exile.

-

Bucky likes the smell of the candles you burn in your apartment, even though he swears to you that you have to stop forgetting to blow them out before you go to sleep. He knows that your record player in the corner collects a bunch of dust. He remembers laughing when you had defended yourself when he joked about your devastatingly low vinyl count- "I swear, I do use it! But look me in the eye and tell me Spotify isn't more convenient." He likes the various little crystals and stones you have scattered on your windowsill, even if he doesn't know anything about that stuff. Bucky really likes your bookcase, though. You told him upon his first visit to your place that you thrifted it for an absolute bargain, and it appears that it's been put to good use, given there's not a single place on the shelf for another book to fit without stacking some on top of one another. Most of all, he likes that you’re there. He’s only known you for a short period of time, and he gets that nothing is really official yet… but he likes you. He can’t say it out loud to himself yet, but his therapist definitely knows your name.

All throughout his horrible, miserable, no good bad day, Bucky is thinking about how warm and safe your apartment feels, and consequentially, he's thinking about you. He knows he's got it bad, but there's little to be done about it when his brain starts screaming profanities at him whenever he dares dwell on the thought of your face for too long. He misses you, though. Especially when he's nursing some embarrassment and frustration caused by a group of anarchists pushing him out of a moving truck. He wants so desperately to call and check to see how you're doing, what you're up to, but by the time Sam's got him back home it's nearly one in the morning and he shouldn't wake you. Right? He should lock his door, hang up his jacket, and settle in for a long night of doing nothing but scrolling through the guide of all the weird movies his cable company is playing. He shouldn't be halfway down the stairs of his apartment building to walk across town in the middle of the night to come see you.

But it's inevitable that he ends up at your front door. That annoying yelling in his brain is back, telling him that he should just go home before he knocks and wakes you up, but his hand is already rapping on the wood and he can hear scrambling from the other side of the door. It was only then he realized it might of been a good idea to call ahead, because God, what kind of person is answering the door this late, and who's to say you don't already have someone there already, and fuck, fuck, fuck, it's not too late to just hide behind the big artificial tree that the apartment complex put up for decoration-

You open up right before he can entertain that thought. You look like an absolute angel, he thinks. You’re in some t-shirt that’s way too big for you, and your eyes smile when you see him. But from what he can tell, you're tired. Maybe he did wake you up, and he feels that familiar pinch of guilt in his chest.

"I was, uhm.. in the neighborhood," he starts, his hands very focused on the loose thread of his jacket sleeve. "figured I'd stop by and see how you were."

And there goes your eyes again, kind and soft and welcoming, something that Bucky isn't really used to feeling yet. He's being ushered in, and suddenly realizes the television is still on. The guilt subsides knowing he didn’t wake you.

"You should absolutely be sleeping right now, but I'll let it slide because I miss you," you smile, and Bucky knows he's a goner when you press a kiss to his cheek before shutting the door behind him.

“So should you.” Then, a quiet “I miss you too.”

"Want some tea? Or some coffee? I've got the kettle going with some hot water and I was planning on making some sleepytime tea, but I think I've got a few packets of that instant espresso crap buried if you don't wanna wait for the coffee pot to brew..."

You trail off into a comfortable silence for a minute as he watches as you grab a box of the celestial seasonings that you always kept in stock, the one with the bear sitting by the fireplace. Feeling inclined to help, Bucky attempts to step foot in the kitchen and grab a couple of mugs before immediately being banished to the living room, where he then listened to your rant about how he looked like he just got run over by a moving vehicle, and how he should sit down. Well, you were kinda right. You go to drop a couple of teabags into hot water, but not before you warn him to get on the couch before he falls asleep standing up.

He doesn't follow directions very well, because his feet lead him over to your bookshelf, where you've got some sort of scented wax over a tea light. Eyes trailing over the numerous books you have, he recognized a few. A Farewell to Arms, Main Street, and the two copies you had of The Great Gatsby. He knows you have a love-hate relationship with Harry Potter, but all seven of the books sat at eye level, a bit faded from countless rereads as soon as the weather got colder and you needed something cozy and familiar.

His gaze is caught on one book in particular; one that he thought about earlier today, before a teenager punched the living daylights out of him and before Walker and his unbearably chirpy sidekick made his day go from bad to worse. The Hobbit sat tucked away to the left of The Lord of the Rings, and Bucky reached out and gently pulled it from the row. It wasn't the same cover as the one he had at his apartment- yours had drawn trees and mountains, with runes lining the edges of the illustration. His own copy had what he assumed was a still from the movie adaptation, something he never bothered to watch. He still felt compelled to buy the book when he saw it sitting on the shelf at a store.

"I already called dibs on the Star Wars mug," you joked, heading out into the living room carrying two mugs of tea. "You're gonna have to drink from the-"

"Can you read to me?"

He does feel bad for interrupting you, but to be fair, the words slipped out before he could even stop them. He feels his nerves swell up a bit before you answer him, and the book in his hands feels heavier than it should.

You set the tea down on the small table at the end of the couch before switching on the lamp, offering the room some light which was previously only provided by a few candles, the kitchen, and the glow from the television. You switch that off, too, and the nerves that Bucky was sure were radiating off him melt away.

“Only if you stop standing ten feet away and come cuddle me while I do.”

When you spoke, it took Bucky all of two seconds to make his way to the couch, grabbing the blanket he knows you love and draping it over the both of you as you trade him his tea for the book.

“Teasing me about wanting to read The Hobbit is off the table, doll.” Bucky drapes an arm over your shoulder, making himself comfortable. “A friendly reminder it sits on your bookshelf.”

He hears you giggle and he’s in absolute awe of how much he wants to kiss you. Sure, you both have done plenty of that over the course of time he’s known you, but there’s something about you sitting in his arms with a book he knows so well open in front of you. Home.

“I’ll admit, it’s been a while since I’ve read this, my knowledge of Middle Earth is a bit spotty.”

“I’m willing to bet it’s been even longer for me,” he jokes, but there’s still a sting when he says it. Bucky pushes it aside.

“Alright, old coot. Let’s start from the beginning.”

-

“The dark filled all the room, and the fire died down, and the shadows were lost, and they still played on.”

It takes Bucky all of five minutes and a few sips of tea to get him tired before he’s placing his cup down and resting his head on your shoulder, and you’re almost down for the count, ready to retire to your bed. But you only have about ten pages until the end of the chapter and Bucky is way too good of a pillow to even think about moving. The dwarves start to sing their song, and if you’re remembering correctly, this is when things really start to get good. You debate if you want to continue, but then you look down and see Bucky absolutely zonked, and your mind is made up. You yawn and set the book on the table before reaching over and shutting off the lamp, attempting not to wake up the sleeping figure next to you.

[goldentournesol]

The Receptionist and the Profiler (Epilogue)

Chapter Eight: Epilogue

(Spencer Reid x f!Reader)

Series Masterlist

General Masterlist

A/N: Welcome to the final chapter of the series. this is just a summary of what Spencer and Reader’s life is like in the future. thank you so much for joining me on this journey. I’ve enjoyed it so much more than I thought I would. So without further ado, enjoy.

Working for the FBI made for a pretty wild life. Even though Y/N wasn’t an agent, her life had been caught up with work just like all the other agents’. It also didn’t help that her boyfriend was endangered practically every minute of every day. It was hard, but Spencer and Y/N made it work. Among the darkness, they created light for each other. Spencer was no longer dreading coming home to a quiet life of reading and rereading his favorite books. He had a partner, he had a lover, someone to depend on. She was there for him as he grieved the loss of his friend and coworker deeply and she was there when he struggled with his excruciating migraines. They walked through life together, facing the challenges head on.

Emily’s death had taken a toll on the both of them, but they were nothing short of relieved when they found out that she was alive and well. Many changes took place after that.

JJ had worked long and hard to turn into a profiler, the liaison had years upon years of experience before switching jobs which meant Hotch had to find a new communications liaison, but he didn’t have to look far at all. He had offered Y/N the job without a second thought. A lot of her job as receptionist covered a liaison’s job. She would often get numerous calls a day from nosy reporters and she’d have to shut them down. However, with the added responsibilities, she’d had to take classes and had undergone copious amounts of training with JJ and Hotch, but she found that she flourished in this new job, despite the hardships that came with it.

This meant that she had her own office now. Whenever Spencer wasn’t at his desk, he was in her office, and whenever she wasn’t in her office, she was at his desk. She often found that she missed her old job as receptionist, but nothing could replace the newfound feeling of making a difference in the world. She used to admire JJ’s ability to stand before nosy reporters and judgmental cops, and here she was, blowing herself (and the team) away with these hidden abilities. 

Before, she was aware of the general gist of the job, she knew it wasn’t easy, but the team often kept the gory details to themselves around her. Now, she had to pick and choose the gore which constantly left her with the question of whether she’d made the right choice or not. The intensity of the job had slightly damaged her spirits, but thankfully she had an amazing support system. She couldn’t have done it without Spencer’s unending support, or Hotch’s for that matter. Before allowing Y/N to accept the job, Hotch had made sure to warn her about the horrors first. She assured him she was ready, even though sometimes she felt like she wasn’t.

On the somewhat bright side, this also meant that she was around during most, if not all cases. This had Spencer jumping for joy, but it also terrified him to his bones. All his emotions were always on overdrive when it came to her. He was glad that he didn’t have to spend so much time away from her, but it simultaneously meant that he was constantly worried for her safety. He never wanted her to go into the field, ever. No matter the amount of combat training she did with Morgan. She found that she preferred interviewing victims’ families and controlling the press to facing serial killers head on anyway.

Sometimes it was easier for her to control the press from Quantico, so it wasn’t uncommon for her to stay back during cases. One particular case had dragged on for much longer than any of them had expected. The whole team was gone in Wisconsin and Hotch had asked her to stay back and hold down the fort at Quantico. The team ended up staying there for two weeks. It was the longest she’d ever been away from Spencer. Nightly calls weren’t enough for them and Spencer truly hadn’t experienced such an emptiness without her before.

As he scooped her into his awaiting arms right outside the elevator when they finally made it back to the office, he breathlessly declared to her, “Marry me.”

She pulled back from the tight embrace to examine his features, “What?” She said, voice thick with confusion.

“I don’t want to be away from you for that long ever again. I don’t want to wait anymore. Marry. Me.” He enunciated firmly. She broke out into a grin.

“Okay, I will.” She laughed and he squeezed her once more, savoring her warmth.

“This isn’t the official proposal by the way, you deserve something far nicer than all this, but I just want you to know that I’m ready if you are.” Spencer clarified and she threw her head back with laughter. Spencer’s heart soared at the sound.

Spencer took that statement and ran with it. He teased her every chance he got. At one dinner date they had planned, he had the nerve to begin his sentence with her full name, her heart dropping to her gut.

“Y/N Y/L/N, would you do me the honor of...sharing this fine wine with me?” Spencer said smugly, resulting in a shocked, but somehow relieved scoff coming from her.

A different time, he decided to give her a false alarm during one of their daily lunch walks in the park nearest to Quantico. He knelt down to one of his knees in the middle of their promenade.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you...wait for me while I tie my shoe?” Spencer asked with a face-splitting grin. This time, she didn’t hesitate to shove his shoulder slightly, causing him to lose balance and almost faceplant into the pavement.

At this point, she truly had no idea when he was going to pop the big question. Knowing him, it could literally be at any point in time. She had to admit, though, he kept her on her toes. A month later, she was sure he’d pop the question during JJ’s wedding reception because of the way he was staring at her all night. He’d looked dreamy in his tux to say the least. Y/N was almost too shy to dance with him because of how magnificent he looked. What she didn’t know was that he was thinking the same exact thing about her. She looked exquisite in the evening gown she adorned and Spencer was absolutely enraptured by her. 

Being so surrounded by love and admiration, Spencer finally asked her to marry him the second they made it through her front door. They stood in the small hallway between the kitchen and the living room. She had just turned around from taking her heels off and was met with Spencer down on one knee, holding the most beautiful ring out to her in a navy blue velvet box.

“I had this elaborate speech planned, Y/N, I really did. I was going to talk about the stars, about the first conversation we had when I told you about the origins of yogurt, about how stupid we were for not realizing our love for each other earlier, but I realized that none of that matters right now. All I know is that this feels right, you make everything feel right. Will you marry me?” Spencer asked, his face incapable of hiding even a sliver of the adoration he felt for her.

“Yes, I’ll marry you in every lifetime and every universe.” She said, tears falling freely from her eyes. He sprang to his feet and wrapped her up in a long awaited embrace. He felt her body shake with wet laughter against his. He placed the ring on her finger and quickly kissed her passionately. Their giddy giggles flew through and around them.

Spencer knew she didn’t want a long engagement. Her previous engagement was hard enough of the both of them. Their jobs were just so demanding, it was hard to set a date and keep from pushing it back. Their wedding planner was beyond frustrated with them, but what can they do? They’re literally out there saving lives. And before they knew it, two years had passed them by and they were due to be married in two months.

But, alas, Spencer Reid seemed to have a knack for getting shot by unsubs right before weddings. While they were investigating a difficult case in Texas, Spencer was shot in the neck. Y/N was at the police station when she’d heard. She wasn’t sure who took her to the hospital to see him, everything was a blur since she got the call. She was plagued by the fear of losing him. 

She’d overheard Alex Blake and JJ discuss how he’d always wanted children when she arrived at the hospital. In the back of her mind, she screamed that she’d give him all the kids he wanted, if the universe just let them breathe. 

All too quickly, she was a sobbing mess in JJ’s arms. He’d gotten hurt before, he’d been in danger before, but she’d never been as close to it as she was then, it terrified her. Garcia had arrived and guided her to Spencer’s room. In another flash of events, there was a loud bang and Y/N had barely registered that a gun was shot inside the room.

The ringing of her ears subsided just enough to hear Spencer tell Garcia, “You saved my life, do you hear me?” 

That was the second time his life was endangered in the span of two hours. Y/N looked her fiancé square in the face.

“I don’t want to wait anymore. As soon as you’re up and well, we’re getting married.”

Exactly one week later, they’d rushed through whatever they could rush through. Thankfully her dress was ready and altered, the cake was made to order, but sadly, they’d given up their gorgeous, gorgeous venue. Rossi was more than happy to offer up his backyard and the couple found it more than fitting to commemorate their love in the very location where Spencer had first confessed his feelings to her and where she’d returned them later. 

Life truly came full circle as Spencer stood in the same exact spot where he’d confessed his undying love for her the very first time. Spencer did everything he could to keep from sobbing like a child as he saw the owner of his heart stand before him, just like she did that day, but this time adorning her white dress.

Being the romantic sap that he was, he recounted almost every milestone in perfect detail during his vows. Through the unrelenting tears, of course. Y/N’s words came out wobbly and wet, but she managed to get her vows out. There really was not a single dry eye in the small, intimate crowd. The entire team had watched them fall in love oh-so-gracelessly over the years.

Their ceremony was beautiful. It was different than JJ’s had been, it was more special to the two of them. Spencer was in nothing short of awe as he watched his wife sway with Henry wrapped up in her embrace on the dance floor. Henry’s little arms and legs were wound tightly around her, the bottoms of his shoes surely smearing dirt all over the back of her dress, but she didn’t care. Not when Spencer was looking at her like that. His throat clogged itself up as she caught his eye and smiled sweetly. The same thing was on both their minds, it was like an unspoken agreement had been made through some kind of special, invisible bond between them.

He couldn’t wait to have a family with that woman.

And they’d wasted absolutely no time. Three months after the wedding, Y/N announced that she was carrying a baby Reid. Tears and cheers erupted for them all. They had found the perfect little house with the help of Morgan. It was perfect for their growing family.

Pregnancy wasn’t easy on Y/N at all. Flying all around the country and helping catch serial killers was not an activity that pregnant Y/N wanted to engage in. The team had been more than forgiving as they dealt with her mood swings and crazy cravings. It also turns out that soon-to-be mama Y/N was especially helpful in chewing out unsubs in the interrogation room, but as useful as she proved to be, she couldn’t wait to pop the little peanut out.

Spencer and the team were rushing off the jet to the hospital as they’d heard Y/N had gone into labor. Spencer had only missed the very beginning and was by her side the entire time after that.

They welcomed baby Emelia Reid into this world on a chilly September night. Spencer was over the moon, he was borderline obsessed with looking at the baby and keeping a hand on her at all times whenever she was in the room with them. 

He waited for his mother to fly out a few days later just to meet baby Emelia. He wept as he watched his mother kiss the top of his baby girl’s head. No other feeling could ever compete with the one he experienced at that moment in time.

Emelia had grown into such a radiant little girl. She was a miniature hurricane of chocolatey brown curls and rosy red cheeks. She’d already blown her parents away as her intelligence only seemed to increase with time. The similarities she had to her father were astonishing. She was a daddy’s girl through and through, but Y/N didn’t seem to mind sharing him. Not when the sight of them together instantly melted her heart every single time.

Diana tried to be as active in the baby’s life as she could possibly be, however her condition began to worsen over time. Eventually, Diana had had to move in with Y/N, Spencer, and Emelia. Thankfully, their house was large enough, but taking care of a toddler and Diana while being 6 months pregnant was inarguably too much to handle for Y/N. She’d found out that she was pregnant again, and they were expecting another baby girl. Y/N had also taken time off from work to focus on the dilemmas at home. 

The at-home nurse was doing the best she could since Spencer was always either at work or off finding Diana some kind of new treatment. He’d told Y/N that he’d been going to Mexico to get her some special medication and so she didn’t mind as long as she’d been kept in the loop of where and how he was. Spencer Reid never kept anything from his wife. They were always transparent with each other. Y/N was glad that he’d told her about his trips down to Mexico, or else she’d be out of her mind looking for him. 

But suddenly, during one trip, he’d stopped answering her calls. Complete silence on his end. It had driven her absolutely mad. It was only until JJ visited her the next morning informing her that Spencer had been arrested in Mexico for the illegal possession of drugs and possibly murder. If JJ hadn’t been around to catch Y/N before passing out, she or the baby would have been in extreme danger.

But Spencer Reid never kept anything from his wife. She’d been adamant that she would have known if he was struggling with drugs again. The last time she’d seen Spencer was during the trial. He’d looked so terrified as they pronounced him guilty and shoved him away from her. From his family. He’d spared Y/N one last broken glance, his gaze drifting down to her swollen belly. Their second child was on the way and he won’t be there to meet them. He mouthed a heartfelt apology before they took him away. Y/N wept and wept until everyone but the team left the courtroom.

“How am I gonna do this, Pen? How am I gonna do this without him?” She spoke between breathy sobs. The baby, Emelia, Diana. She couldn’t do it on her own. It would break her.

“You won’t be alone, Y/N. We’re all going to help you.” Penelope reassured her, but the only thing that was capable of reassuring her was currently in handcuffs behind closed doors.

She’d had to keep Spencer’s whereabouts from Diana and Emelia. She’d told him that he was consulting a case somewhere in California, where he also had access to the beach. Up until that lie wasn’t viable enough. Emelia’s questions about her daddy absolutely tore through what remained of her heart.

Diana’s caretaker had apparently quit and a new one came by. Y/N thought something was off, but she pushed that thought aside as she worried over her husband and the baby that they were due to meet any day now. Two months had passed and Spencer was still incarcerated, he hadn’t allowed Y/N or Emelia anywhere near the prison, but she’d broken down at the possibility of him being locked away for 25 years.

She’d visited him once, right after the birth of their second baby. They’d had another beautiful baby girl, whose name had been decided long ago by the two parents. Baby Adaline. The delivery was immensely difficult without him, but she pushed through. Y/N had almost begged Emily to pull any, any strings she could to get them to meet since Spencer said he’d only agree to see them if he could ensure their privacy and safety. They’d managed to get them in with Spencer’s lawyer, Fiona. Y/N cooed to Adaline as she cradled her in her arms, wrapped in her little blanket. The cooing served as a distraction as she waited anxiously for Spencer to meet them in the small little room. 

Suddenly the doors emitted a loud buzzing noise, prompting a loud cry from Adaline. A sound that was strange to echo off the walls of this place. Y/N shushed her gently until she caught sight of her husband walking through the door. Tears gathered in her eyes as she took in his disheveled state. His eyes found hers and quickly flitted to the squirming bundle of joy in her arms. Spencer’s lip wobbled as he entered the room. Y/N shifted Adaline to rest upon her shoulder as she wrapped one arm tightly around Spencer. No touching was allowed, but the guards pretended to look the other way, courtesy of whatever strings Emily had pulled.

The three of them bawled against each other in an unceremonious reunion. Spencer at last pulled away from his wife and stared at the baby in the bundle. He hesitated to carry her. His hands were clean, but they still felt so dirty. How could his hands hold this beautiful gift of life while they’d been committing such heinous acts within these very walls? But one utterance from his wife made that all vanish.

“It’s okay, Spence.” She smiled slightly, angling Adaline towards him. 

He gazed at Y/N closely, as if checking to see if she was sure. Y/N carefully handed her over to him and he instantly turned into less of a shell of himself and had begun to resemble the man that Y/N could recognize. He cooed to her softly, kissing her face repeatedly. Adaline instantly quieted down at her father’s touch.

The small interaction had fueled the pair for weeks. Spencer found a source of hope and was determined to see through to the other side. He would not rot away in his cell forever. The team continued to try and crack the case from the outside. Y/N was instructed to be more careful than ever. She often brought Emelie and Adaline to work with her. She had not been flying out with the team, preferring to stay close to her girls until Spencer was back.

On one of the days Y/N brought her girls to work, she’d found out that Diana had been missing. Her caretaker was accompanying her to visit Spencer in prison and then neither of them had been seen afterwards. They quickly identified the caretaker as Lindsey Vaughn. If Y/N had been on the case with them ten years ago, she would have identified her, but she was just another face to her. Y/N was livid, Vaughn had been around her children, she’d been inside her home. If Spencer didn’t get to catch the bitch, they better believe Y/N will.

Spencer was released quickly after the BAU proved his innocence. He was on his way to the office now. Y/N had been peering into Adaline’s carriage when she’d heard the high pitched voice of Emelia.

“Daddy!” Emelia exclaimed, racing across the bullpen to jump into her father’s arms.

“Hi baby. Daddy missed you so much.” Spencer said, hiding his tears in his daughter's hair. He held her tightly to his chest as he crossed the bullpen and made it to Y/N’s office. He put Emelia down gently and scooped his wife into his arms.

“You’re back.” She said softly through tears. 

He hooked his chin over her shoulder and sniffled strongly. He might not be the same man he was before, but he still loved her unconditionally. He still loved all three of them unconditionally.

“I’m here.” He repeated the phrase out loud like a mantra.

And he was here, but he also wasn’t. His wife could tell that the man who stood before her had endured hell, but when he cradled their baby girl so tightly to his chest, it was hard to imagine him as anything other than a loving, gentle father, and a compassionate partner. She knew she’d hold onto that thought forever. Once they retrieved Diana, they knew they could face anything.

As long as they were together.

And they knew they would be, for as long as the universe would allow in this life, and then the one after that.

~THE END~

previous chapter/ bonus chapter

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thank you for all the love, feedback is always appreciated!

[mggssocks]

Followed

Not My Gif!

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Content Warnings: None just fluff :)

Summary: Spencer makes an Instagram and stumbles across reader’s page.

Word Count: 1,899 words

A/N: This is Season 10 Spencer with Season 13 looks. Also, instead of it being Kate on the team, i put Emily instead because who doesn’t love the season 3-7 team? Also I might make a part 2 depending on how much this blows up. Honestly i’d be happy if i got one like. Anyways.. hope you enjoy!!!

masterlist // part 2 // part 3

It was 8:00 in the morning. Spencer walked in the doors of the bullpen to the bau. He sat his satchel down and began to settle in for a long day of work. It was pretty early so the team wasn’t in yet. Except for Aaron Hotchner who had gotten in an hour prior to Spencer and been in his office ever since. Apparently others had the same ‘get to work early’ mindset as Spencer. Spencer opened a case file but his attention was quickly whipped away due to the sound of the door opening. He sees Penelope Garcia with all her attention focused on her phone. Spencer quirked his eyebrows when she bumped into a fellow coworker and her attention remained on her phone while quickly mumbling a quick “sorry”. As she passed his desk, Spencer decided it would be the great time to speak. 

“Hey, Garcia.” Her feet came to a stop and her head snapped up at him. 

“Boy wonder! I’m so glad you’re here. I really need someone to talk to because if I don’t I’m going to explode!” She sits in the chair across from his desk. 

“Is everything alright?” He leaned back in his chair. 

“No… no everything is not alright. If anything.. everything is all wrong. Very very wrong. I-“ she takes in a deep breath “I was stalking Kevin’s page because the other day I seen him at the mall with another girl. And while I was 56 weeks down in his page, I accidentally liked a picture.” She explained, in a huff. 

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.” Spencer was even more confused now than before she started. 

“I liked a picture that he posted 56 weeks ago!” Her eyes were wide.

“How is that a bad thing?” His lips pouted as he’d never understand social media. 

“Ugh! Reid, you really need to get with the program and get you an Instagram. That means his picture was old and now he knows that I was looking at his page. You understand now?” She asked. 

“Oh. Yeah I understand. It’s bad that he knows you were looking at his page.” He asked as Prentiss, JJ, and Morgan had walked in. 

“Yes. And now I must go into the bat cave and wait for him to call or text me and ask what me lurking on his page was about.” She whined as she stomped her way to her office. 

“What was that about?” Prentiss asked, setting her bags down on her desk. 

“Uhh- rough morning” Spencer shrugged, still not really understanding the whole social media thing. 

“Hey do you guys have an Instagram?” He asked the three. 

“Yeah but I’m barely on it.” Prentiss answered.

“Same here” says Morgan as he takes a seat at his desk. 

“Yeah but I only get on to post the boys and myself sometimes” answers JJ. 

“What about Hotch and Rossi?” He asked.

“Yup! Rossi likes to post about his expensive wine and cigars. Hotch posts Jack every once in a while and a throwback Thursday.” JJ says. 

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed for what seems to be the 100th time that day. 

“He doesn’t know what that is” Prentiss looks over to JJ.

“It’s something you post like an old picture of yourself every Thursday.” Morgan explains.

“Do you guys do that?” Spencer asked.

“I did last Thursday.” JJ pulls out her phone and opened the app. “This was right after Emily, Penelope, and I caught a guy who was trying to pick up Prentiss by pretending to be an FBI agent a few years ago.” She chuckled showing him a picture. 

Spencer takes her phone in his hand and examines the post. 142 likes. 57 comments. He clicks on her name which takes it to her page. 302 followers. As he scrolls, he sees a picture the team took a while ago and sees a little person profile thing the corner and clicks on it causing other names tagged to each individual team member. Except him. After he examined all of their profiles, he gives JJ back her phone and gets to work like the rest of them. He felt a little left out but he knew it was because of his own decisions and not his team. He liked that they didn’t press him about having a social media because they new he was more old school than anything. And it was ironic because he wastage youngest member of the team with the more old school habits. 

When Spencer got home he decided he wanted the social media app. The idea of being able to share with his friends and only his friends excited him. Being able to post about his favorite things for his friends to see without talking their ears off.

He opened his phone and went to the app store, typing “instagram” into the search bar. He followed the sites instructions as he made his account. Using a snapshot he took of his bookshelf as his profile picture. He sees the option to add the people in his contact list which was only his team, mom, and his mother’s caretaker. But everyone’s profile popped up and he quickly followed each and every one of them. Except for his mom and her caretaker of course. 

Soon enough, he got a follow back from Garcia, Hotch, Rossi, and JJ in that order. Morgan and Prentiss weren’t lying when they said they weren’t on often.

After two weeks, Spencer hasn’t posted anything yet, not knowing what should go on his profile. Morgan and Prentiss ended up following him back and the app ended up adjusting to his interests. Nothing but accounts about interesting facts, books, and doctor who. 

It was Friday night and the team had just got back from a case in Chicago. Spencer opened the door to his apartment and set his satchel down on the couch, exhausted. His mind wonders to get something to eat being that he wonders to get something to eat being that he hasn’t ate since before they caught the unsub. Which was about 5 hours and 7 minutes ago but he still needed to get something into his system. Spencer opened his fridge and sees 3 day old Chinese takeout. He shrugs and pops it into the microwave while looking for a book of his to reread while he eats. After he finishes dinner, he gets on his phone and subconsciously pulls up the app. He clicks onto his explore page to discover something else he likes. While scrolling, he sees a picture of someone reading and clicks on it.

765 likes

Yourfriend’sig whenever people ask me what to give you for your birthday or Christmas, I always tell them to get you a book or something green and it works every single time. Happy Birthday to my best buddy, @yourinstagram !

View all 84 comments

Spencer smiles and clicks the heart button and bookmarks it to look at later.  He liked the picture. Both the picture and caption reminded him a lot of his own love for books and the color green (hence his apartment). 

Once he got out of the shower, he brushed his teeth. He found himself subconsciously scrolling through his instagram bookmarks to find her post. He doesn’t know what it was but something about the picture brought comfort to him. As he brushed his teeth, he clicked on the post once again.This time, he actually clicked on your account. It was a private account with 186 followers. The bio read:

Y/N... bookworm.

Her profile picture consisted of a black cat surrounded by either a bunch of well taken care of plants or artificial ones. His finger hovered over the blue “follow” button. As he bent down to spit his toothpaste out, his thumb accidentally clicked the follow button. But he didn't realize so until he looked down again to see the “follow” button replaced with “requested”. His heart basically drops out of his ass. He quickly clicks the button again, taking back his follow. 

It was now one in the morning, Spencer laid in bed awake staring at his ceiling. Once again, he clicks onto the app. He scrolled down his timeline and saw a picture Penelope posted of one of her new desk animals with the caption “Got her at a thrift shop! Isn’t she cute??”. He saw that Hotch and JJ liked 45 other people. JJ also commented with two red hearts. Spencer likes the post and keeps scrolling. His thoughts wander to the post about the girl again. He’s never thought about a social media post this much since he’s created an account. He wonders what sparked his interest so much about this one. As he makes his way to the post, clicking on her account. Debating if he should follow her. She’s a total stranger. Do the others follow strangers? There’s no way JJ knows 302 people in real life. He mentally shrugs and presses the follow button. Requested. Again.

He swipes out of her account back onto the post now seeing that she commented on it.

yourinstagram thank you, bubs! ily to the moon n back <3333

It was commented thirty six seconds ago. Meaning she’s currently active. Again, Spencer’s heart sinks and he immediately regrets his decision. Going back and unfollowing her. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’s a mess. Over a stranger. But he feels like an idiot. Reacting the way that he did just because he saw that she was online. So he goes and follows her.... again.

After clearing out all of his apps, he turns off his phone and lays down trying to get some sleep before work in a few hours. His thoughts wander to her. What she was like. if she was nice or mean. If she was socially awkward or very outgoing. Before his thoughts could get too far into what she was like, he receives a notification from instagram. He opens his phone and clicks on the notification. His heart began to pound when he saw it.

yourinstagram would like to send you a message! 

He clicks on it.

yourinstagram You’ve followed and unfollowed me about 5 times in the past 3 hours. Is there something I can help you with?

Spencer completely forgot that other people got notifications and now he felt like some kind of creep.

spencerreid I’m sorry. I came across your friend’s Instagram post wishing you a happy birthday and i guess i got curious and wanted to follow you if that makes any sense. 

He felt so dumb. 

yourinstagram and following me once wasn’t enough for some reason???

spencerreid Sorry about that. I’m new to this whole social media thing and don’t follow any strangers. You are the first person I’m following that I don’t know in real life. Again, my apologies for the disturbance. I’ll unfollow you’re account If you’re uncomfortable with me. 

yourinstagram i just hope that you’re not one of my raging exes, someone trying to catfish me, or a psychopath lol.

Spencer smiled.

spencerreid Nope. Just me.

She leaves him one read. Spencer’s smile fades when he doesn’t see any three loading dots. She wasn’t texting him back. As he’s about to exit the app, he sees two notifications. 

yourinstagram has accepted your follow request!

yourinstagram has requested to follow you.

********

I hoped you like this!!! If this blows up,i will do another chapter!

[alpacaparkaseok]

Okay I have to start by stating the obvious bc it needs to be said every time I read anything you write: you are so talented 😭

Reader’s clap back to Russo had me 😂

“As you wonder if your father looked the same when his body as found” 🧐🕵🏽‍♀️ I’d like to know that too. How did I forget Ortega’s comments about Bianchi’s body 😐

Okay…can’t lie. The “here, we teach how to get away with it” was a really good one. You got me there Russo you got me there

Yoooongiiii. So even in reading the previous chapter again before this…yoongi do be looking really sus 😐 I h8 it here. The paranoia is REAL. This whole scene with the ring is…interesante 🧐🕵🏽‍♀️…I have thoughts (none of them coherent).

What do you mean she made up her mind on the drive over here 😐

“Funny. It’s daytime, but you’re seeing stars” GODDAMMIT THATS A GOOD LINE (I’m sorry this seems to be just me quoting stuff but like…how can I NOT!???) (also sounds like Namjoon’s still salty about the fake death thing 😬…so much has happened I almost forgot that that wasn’t too long ago. Right? How many days have passed since?)

WE BOTH KNOW WHAT-

Using a simile about a ballerina to describe a car crash is just…pure brilliance. I love you and your big brain 😭

Hobi??? Dammit it’s been too long since I’ve read the other chapters 😭 I for sure have to do some rereading 🕵🏽‍♀️ OF COURSE THE WORDS DONT SETTLE IN. I’m sick of not knowing all the things ☹️ (she says knowing damn well it’s a lie 🙄😂)

Oooh a flashback???? 👀 (we got multiple flashbacks!!! Hurray!!)

There sure are a lot of ‘darkness’ / ‘dark’ references…feels like in chapter 11 with ‘light’ but you know…opposite 🕵🏽‍♀️

“Bleeding out yet still looking at you as if you shaped the world” 🥲 to “you won’t always be” 😭

Misunderstood mad scientist type is 100% correct 😏🔥 (help Hoseok as the light 😭😭😭)

Or maybe…😐 (you’re killing me here!!!)

An emotion huh…(loving this namjoon time btw, also incredibly interesting to me that he’s the one she decides she can trust most. The one she’s known for the shortest amount of time. I want to say it was a good choice but I think I’ve established that the bar for my paranoia is quite high at this point so 😂)

Okay but I SWEAR, as I read “a book in hand that he’d fallen asleep reading” my thought no joke was ‘that’s so weird and normal?’ AND THATS WHAT YOU WROTE TOO. I feel like we just had a weird sort of jinx moment? And I’m weirdly delighted 😂

Unspoken understanding huh…

*editors note: two seconds later 😂

Yup okay that tracks

OH SHIT THE EARRINGS

Ouch…that’s gotta hurt. The pride on her father’s face. Can’t imagine she enjoys him thinking they are similar in any sense. I wouldn’t, the bastard 😡

A photo? Of her mother maybe? Damn…I really wanna reread everything now (seriously It’s been so long that now I don’t even remember if I’m supposed to know where Yadiel is from, cause the comments about the accent and tanned skin has me 🕵🏽‍♀️) I swear every little detail you write feels important, whether they are or not and here is when I once again tell you how good of a writer you are. *insert Bernie sanders meme*

I literally shivered when I read “a finger tracing a line from your shoulder to your wrist” 🕵🏽‍♀️

“Your jungkook” 😐 I feel like I don’t even have to say anything here 🧍🏽‍♀️YOU KNOW WHAT (I won’t quote the other related line BUT YOU KNOW 🙃 always referring to their past ‘relationship’ so…blasé)

Yadiel 🔪🔪🔪 every time he touches her I want to scream. A shoulder caress to a tight grip around her wrist…then a nose boop to a push against a wall…if that doesn’t scream manipulation idk what does 😡. In an abusive toxic relationship it’s all about subtlety and he has it down pat (it’s the gaslighting for me 😐)

Another piece of jewelry referred to as somehow alive…huh 🕵🏽‍♀️

Jail. Jail for the transition back to the present including conjuring the image of Namjoon fresh from the shower in a ‘snug’ white shirt 😐 FROM A SUPER INTENSE AND DENSE FLASHBACK NO LESS (did I ignore the “a little more” in front of “snugly” maybe so 🤷🏽‍♀️😂 but still jail time for you ma’am)

Dammit. Im about to read the namjoon scene you posted about aren’t I 😭 started strong with “where does it hurt” 😳👀 SIR LEAVE ME ALONE I ALREADY KNOW THIS AINT END GAME DONT DO THIS TO ME

Wait, “you know he’s seeing someone else, too” 🧐🕵🏽‍♀️

2020!??? 🕵🏽‍♀️ (Omg it happened again…the jinx. Tho this one feels like it’s an inevitability, cause like…that’s how conversations go 😂 BUT STILL)

I-

…..

I have thoughts. Whilst simultaneously having no thoughts 😐

(The way I can’t even properly comment on what follows after…EXCEPT “actually, call me regardless” gave me heart palpitations, one might say…my heart skipped a beat 🤧 and the “he’s looking at you” 👀 “your chest doesn’t hurt so bad when you laugh” 😩 I’m nothing if not a simp)

Ahhhhhh it’s taking so much of my willpower to leave it at that…SO I’LL LEAVE IT AT THAT JUST KNOW THIS IS GONNA BE ME ALL WEEK WHILE I TRY TO FIND SOME TIME TO REREAD

In conclusion: now that we’re reaching the end (I hate that sentence) I would just like to say that this is 100(1 million)% one of the best things I’ve ever read. I love all these characters so much and it’s so well written it’s insane. I can barely go paragraph to paragraph without getting ansias bc I want to tell you how brilliant you are cause I need you to understand the power you hold 😭. Thank you for sharing this with us 🥺

Ok reader getting a little jab in was definitely so therapeutic 🤧 Russo deserves it, the lil punk. Although I'm so happy you liked his little line about getting away with murder, I was pretty proud of his haha

Ooh yes, the ring. There's so much that happens in this chapter, the ring just kinda fades into the background. But I actually really enjoyed that bit. Very interesante 🧐

gahhh you flatter me. the "seeing stars" line and the whole ballerina analogy, so glad people think they're cool because I thought so too haha

Hobi!! I'll give ya a hint, she's recalling a conversation she had with him in chapter 11 :)

speaking of chapter 11, I laughed out loud at "There sure are a lot of ‘darkness’ / ‘dark’ references…feels like in chapter 11 with ‘light’ but you know…opposite 🕵🏽‍♀️"

Jinx! Haha great minds think alike

Right on the money, Yadiel is the gaslighting kind I swear. The earrings, the gift, the pressuring, the moodswings. I love yaddy!

haha I knowww Namjoon ain't endgame but boy if he was 🤧 I would be deceased

puh-lease the power I hold?? I wouldn't have even gotten this far if it weren't for you and everyone that reads my crap 😭 you're too sweet, thank you for analyzing and sharing your thoughts with me, it makes me a much better creator.

may the force be with you trying to prep for the final chapter!