#seriously man gets some therapy that’s fucking harsh

[wackachewbacca]

The Dracula men: You’ve done your work Mina but now it’s time for us men to do the rest and for you to leave the plot relevancy so you will not go into womanly hysterics

Mina, who has compiled together the entire record of Dracula up to now, has lost her dearest friend and had to take care of her husband going through anxiety and shock: okay…

Dracula watching from the sideline: Wow that’s super fucked don’t worry I’ll keep you in the plot ;)

Mina: Oh thank you that’s very kind— WAIT

[cherriegyuu]

lens of ice | yjh | one

pairing: jeonghan x f!reader genre: figure skater jeonghan, light angst, a little fluff, smut in the next part word count: 12k summary: jeonghan has only one chance left to make it to the olympics. as he embarks on this decisive journey, you, a documentarist, are set to follow him as he seeks the ultimate glory. warnings: jeonghan is kind of reckless with his body a/n: i've been writing this one for so long now and though it's not finished yet, i decided to post half of it, as a way to motivate myself to finish it. i really wanna thank @ressonancee first for giving me idea and second for helping me through all of this and putting up my crazy ass mind 💓

part one | part two (final)

The light buzzing of the fluorescent lights made him uncomfortable, it was like a premonition of what was to come. Something bad, he was sure.

Jeonghan was many things in his life, stubborn perhaps being the most obvious one, but dumb wasn't one then. He knew that his ankle was fucked up, that he was probably the cause of it. Too many hours of training, never giving himself enough time to heal before he got the ice again. He didn't know exactly how bad it was, that was for the doctor in front of him to say, but Jeonghan knew that nothing good would come out of the man's mouth.

"It's worse than I thought," the man said with a sigh, taking off his glasses "It's not just your ankle anymore, it's also your knee. And, I could be wrong, but considering the way you're walking, I'd say that you're right ankle also started to bother you"

Jeonghan hung his head. He was an athlete and he knew that he was being reckless, beyond actually. He should have gone to his coach the second he felt a sharp pain in his ankle. But he just went home, took an ice bath, and kept the whole thing to himself. Even on the following days, when the pain didn't go away at all, he still chose to keep his mouth shut and go to practice every day. And his coach, unaware of his condition, kept pushing him during practice. 

Not that he needed anyone to be harsh on him, Jeonghan did all of that on his own. But having someone else do that for him as well brought out a different desire for perfection. One that came from a dark place to show someone else that he was good, to prove people wrong.

"Can I still compete?" was all he asked, it was the only thing that mattered to him "Can I make it to the Olympics? It's the last one for me, after this I retire"

The look on the doctor's face wasn't reassuring, Jeonghan knew that his next words wouldn't be the ones he wanted. He wasn't about to hear what he needed.

"If, and only if, you have surgery, take physical therapy seriously, and rest as we instruct you, there might be a possibility. Small, but it exists" 

"When can I have the surgery?"

You stared at your computer screen, a hand on your forehead as you read the email your boss sent you. You sat at your desk, not really knowing what to do.

"Seungkwan!" you called without looking up "Did you get this email too?"

Just to make sure that you weren't crazy, you read it once again. The third time in less than five minutes. No matter how many times you read it, it didn't change.

"Yeah. I'm excited but scared…"

That was enough to get your attention.

"Why?" 

Closing your laptop, you stood up moving closer to Seungkwan. Unlike you, who read the email many times, Seungkwan had already started his research. Not that he really needed to, everyone at the office knew that he was a huge fan of figure skating. So of course he would know all about Yoon Jeonghan.

The nation's pride and joy in figure skating, at least in the make category.

"Why scared? I thought everyone loved him"

It was impossible to look away from the picture Seungkwan had open on his computer. Jeonghan's face really was something else, as if he had been carved in marble by some ancient Greek artist. From his dark hair covering his eyes, giving him almost a mysterious vibe, to the way his lips were slightly crooked into a smile. You had to give it to him, the man was absolutely stunning. No wonder he left a trail of fans everywhere he went.

"He isn't the biggest enthusiast when it comes to the press. He barely gives interviews so I guess doing a documentary about him won't be easy"

Seungkwan kept scrolling, reading the latest news on Jeonghan. But the truth was that there wasn't any. His social media was also rarely updated, the last post was from months before.

"Well, good luck to you"

"What do you mean? You're the one in charge"

You just shook your head. The problem was Jeonghan honestly, you barely knew anything about him, though Seungkwan's words didn't help the case. The thing was that you barely knew anything at all about sports, in general, much less about figure skating. Lack of knowledge was an easy fix. The real issue was the fact that a documentary on a sport was way too different from what you usually did.

"I'm not doing this one. I have other projects I want to work on. Plus, this is too sudden. They want us to start tomorrow, Seungkwan. Do you really think that it's possible to have anything done by tomorrow?" he shook his head and you nodded in agreement "Precisely, so I'm sure that if we talk with Jihoon…"

"Nothing will change" 

A curse left your lips at the sudden voice behind you. Turning around you faced the small man. Jihoon had his arms crossed over his chest and the look in his eyes that told you that no matter what he wouldn't let you off the hook. Still, you had to try.

"Jihoon, I'm not your sports person. And it's too soon. I don't anything about Jeonghan or figure skating"

Jihoon simply shook his head at you.

"They want a different approach than the average sports documentary, so I recommended you. I'm sending Seungkwan with you because I know this isn't your area of expertise, though I highly suggest you do some sort of research" he turned around to leave with a wave of his hand then turned around for a second, as if remembering something "Hansol will be your camera and sound guy. They asked for a small crew"

With a salute Jihoon left.

"Fuck"

You couldn't take your eyes away from the crutches under Jeonghan's arms and the orthopedic boot around his left leg. There was not a single article that pointed to surgery. There were plenty about his constant injuries though. Seungkwan had the same look on his face, of pure shock. 

"Are you okay?" you asked once he made himself comfortable on the couch.

Jeonghan sat sideways on the couch, his leg propped up over cushions. The position looked weird but he didn't seem to mind.

"Ah, this" he pointed at his leg nonchalantly, as if it was the most normal thing "Yeah, it's okay. Had to get the surgery done in order to make it to the next Olympic"

Nodding, you looked around. His apartment wasn't as big as you had expected. In fact, the three of you stood closely together in the living room, a bit too small for all the gear Hansol said he needed.

"Put your things down, let's talk. I don't know how this is going to work"

Me neither, you wanted to say but kept your mouth shut. Thankfully, Seungkwan was there to help you.

"Before we start any real interview or conversation, I think we have to tell you that this was very last minute for us. We only heard about this documentary yesterday, in the middle of the afternoon" he used his kindest voice, his voice laced with concern and a hit of fear, maybe "yn is in charge, she's the documentarist, she'll be asking the questions and dictating the overall direction that we're going to take with the documentary. I'm Seungkwan and that's Hansol. This is the smallest crew he could assemble"

Seungkwan was giving too many explanations, you felt. But he also wasn't wrong. What he did was normal, he was just introducing the crew. Maybe you were a little irritated by the way you were tossed into this job, without someone giving you enough time to prepare. Sixteen hours were barely enough.

"I assume my… reputation has gotten to you," Jeonghan said, a small smile on his lips.

A reputation he had indeed. Jeonghan was known for not liking the press and journalists. He avoided them at all costs and once, on one occasion, was seen being rude. And honestly, you had to give him a pass for it. Pushing the camera away from his face, almost delicately, could barely be considered rude at such a moment. There were way too many cameras around, all of them on his face, trying to get some sort of pronouncement on why he had not made it to the podium. 

And that had been years before but people still remembered him by that one moment. But what exactly did they expect? He underperformed, came in fourth place, and injured himself in the process. Was anyone expecting a happy and bright Jeonghan? 

"You can be comfortable around me. A conversation like this is fine. I just don't like being swarmed" 

Though his words were inviting, his face told a whole different story. He clearly didn't want this documentary.

"All of our interactions will be recorded," you told him, not leaving room for arguments on his end "These first few minutes aren't, out of courtesy and so that we can set our goals. I need to know if you're uncomfortable with anything, or something that you don't want to be filmed, either right now or before we turn the cameras on. Once we start, we won't stop"

Jeonghan adjusted his position on the couch, his eyes never leaving you. It was like he was measuring your every move. He didn't like your tone, and how aggressive you were towards him. 

"I know this was last minute and I apologize for that. This is going to be my last run and, as much as I hate to admit, I'm a bit sensitive to it.

With furrowed eyebrows, you nodded. Jeonghan knew that you didn't believe him or that you cared about his reasons. He knew that the sole reason you were there was because someone made you. 

"Will you need to film my family?" 

"Yes, usually film family members to get a complete idea of someone's life" 

Turning around you nodded at Hansol, telling him to start setting up. With a shake of his head, Seungkwan moved to help him.

"I don't want my family to know the extent of my injuries. So if you only want them for context, to know about me as a child, that's fine. But they can't know anything about this" Jeonghan pointed at his leg "I've been hiding this for a very long time and I'd like to keep it that way"

You dropped your bag on the couch, eyes tired and mind filled with one too many thoughts. The day had been easier than you expected, far more so. 

Based on Seungkwan's words you had expected to fight with Jeonghan in a way. It was a documentary so you needed him to talk and talk he did. There was no question unanswered or dodged, all of his answers were precise and consistent. All of it had sounded fake like he had rehearsed them a million times.

Even if you thought that your question had been good, and had caught him off guard, Jeonghan seemed to be fully prepared for it. He didn't hesitate for a second. 

In the few hours you spent around him, you finally managed to understand the fascination most people had with him. He was handsome, yes, but that was just the very basic and surface level of him. Beyonce that he was also good with his words. It was hard to tell that he was lying because he talked with conviction. After just one interview you were sure that if one day Jeonghan decided to tell you that your mom wasn’t actually your mother, you’d somehow believe him.

And the man knew all of it. He was aware of his beauty and charm, of what it did to normal people, and he used it in his favor. Jeonghan knew that most people couldn’t resist a handsome talented man. And that was a part he was all too willing to fill.

“Yeah,” you answered your phone, not bothering to see who it was, certain that it was just Jihoon.

“How was it today?” he sounded just as tired as you felt and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was okay.

“Fine”

“Just fine?”

You turned on your back, facing the ceiling, or at least whatever you could see with the lights turned off - not a whole lot, to be honest.

“He lied through his teeth today. There was no manager, and no coach around, though I do remember him saying someone would come. The person never showed up” you sighed “Seungkwan hates and Vernon probably thinks I’m a crazy bitch. So yeah, just fine”

Jihoon laughed on the other side of the line and you felt the little butterflies in your stomach come to life. You rolled your eyes at yourself. How pathetic it was of you, to have a crush on your boss. How very much bland of you.

Growing up, like a lot of girls that were influenced by way too much TV, you had wanted the be the odd one out. The I’m one of the guys kind of girl, or the one who refused to wear any kind of makeup or even come close to the pink because that was just girly for you. And now there you were, in love with the color pink, finding excuses to wear pretty dresses, and having a crush on your boss.

Teenage you would throw eggs at your head if she had the chance.

“Okay, but how was Jeonghan?” Jihoon pressed even further.

You sighed and closed your eyes, covering over face with your hand.

“He was polite, answered all of my questions, had a pleasant smile the entire time, and only asked for a bathroom break while we were there. Offered us food and drinks. He was fine” you said again, emphasizing the fine.

You could picture Jihoon, nodding his head and looking at the floor, probably thinking of what to ask next.

“Why would Seungkwan hate you? And why would Vernon think you’re a bitch?”

“Seungkwan thinks I went too hard on Jeonghan and Vernon just trusts Seungkwan’s judgment and goes with it”

Jihoon laughed again and you heard him moving around.

“Classic yn, going at someone while she’s angry. At least your anger was sort of directed to the right person”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you sat up.

You liked to think that you didn’t act that way all the time. In your mind, most of the time, you were able to hide your anger and just play nice like your mother had taught you to be. Jihoon’s words told a completely different story.

“Have some rest, there’s still a lot of work to do. Tomorrow you’re going with him to rehab, right?” Jihoon paused for a second and you heard a female voice in the back, you couldn’t make out what she said but you were sure of who it belonged to “I have to go. We’ll talk next week”

The line was disconnected and leaned back on the couch again. The problem of having a crush on your boss was also the fact that he had a long-time girlfriend and soon he was supposed to be marrying her.

You groaned, wondering if you had gone far enough that there was no going back from this crush.

You sat across from Jeonghan once again, the position exactly the same as the first day. But this time you chose to be less irritable.

The other day you were frustrated because you had to give up other projects to be able to accompany Jeonghan and that, thinking rationally, had nothing to do with him. He asked for a specific documentary filmmaker profile and you were chosen by the studio. Maybe it was more your fault than his. But it was also a no-return kind of situation. The job was assigned to you and there was nothing you could do to change it. So the least you could do was do your best and pray that it didn’t take a turn for the worse.

And, if anything, the conversation with Jihoon helped you focus on work. It wouldn't be the first time you were doing something you didn't want to do and it certainly wouldn't be the last. So you decided that the best thing to do was just work, showing your professional side that had been left aside before.

Jeonghan looked at you the same way, eyes serious as if he was ready for a new attack.

"Thank you," he said to Vernon, who had just placed the microphone inside his jacket, so that he could pick up the sound well, but it was not visible to the camera.

You turned to Seungkwan and Vernon, waiting for confirmation from the two that you could begin. You received a wave from each of them after they checked that the cameras were on and recording.

You took a deep breath and turned to Jeonghan.

"I wanted to apologize for yesterday," you said "I wasn't fair to you. I was irritated by things that had nothing to do with you, but I somehow decided that they did"

Everyone in Jeonghan's living room seemed to hold their breath, you included. You didn't know what to expect from Jeonghan, not really. You had been anything but ungracious with him, in a way that to most people meant that any door between you two had closed.

Jeonghan decided, at that moment, that he had two options: a) he could let the previous day dictate how all interactions between the two of you from then on would be, and it would be many months of a bad relationship that would bring no benefit to anyone involved in it; or b) he could accept your apology, which seemed sincere enough, and let go of the discomfort he felt.

Option b was actually the only possible choice.

“Okay” he finally smiled “my reputation isn’t the best, either way”

Seungkwan and Vernon breathed a sigh of relief. It was as if a huge gray cloud had moved away and the weather was beginning to clear.

“No, your reputation had no influence. I was the one who lost my hand because of my problems and for that, I apologize” you said and you were sincere in your words “But Jeonghan, I need you to stop seeing me as your enemy. I need you to be honest with me.”

You hoped Jeonghan could understand what you were saying.

“You think I wasn’t honest?” he tilted his head as if analyzing you.

“In the same way that you don't want your reputation to affect the way I see you, I need you to not let the way you see other journalists affect the way you see me. I want to tell your story, however you want it told, but I need you to be honest with me.”

You hoped Jeonghan could understand what you were saying.

He was silent for a minute, his eyes fixed on his hands. His hair covered his face, so it was hard to get an idea of what was going through his head.

You looked at Seungkwan, seeking confirmation that you hadn’t been rude. He seemed to be as lost as you were, but the small smile he gave you was enough to make your restless heart rest for a second.

“What if I say something and regret it later?”

It was the first time Jeonghan looked insecure and it was a strange sight, but much more realistic than the other version of him.

“We can edit it, it’s not a problem. I said that because I was angry” you said apologetically once again.

“Can we throw it all away and start again?”

Jeonghan smiled and you had no choice but to smile along with him.

“Let’s start with what’s happening now,” you said, folding your legs under your body, notebook open to a blank page and a pen ready to take notes “You underwent surgery not long ago, right? Why?"

Jeonghan took a deep breath, eyes closed for a second before placing all his attention on you. His gaze was almost too intense. You had to force yourself not to look anywhere but at him.

“A few years ago I fell during training and twisted my ankle. At the time, it wasn't a big deal and if I had stayed quiet for a few weeks, and did everything right, I wouldn't have had any problems. But I couldn't do it, I was preparing for a competition. I didn't tell anyone about the problem and just endured the pain. When I participated in the competition I fell again and that only made the situation worse. Today I have a problem with my ligament and tendon.”

With every word that left his mouth, you felt like a lump was forming in your throat, and with every second it was getting bigger.

Unlike the day before, it didn't seem like Jeonghan was lying, but you didn't know if you wanted the truth he was sharing. Even if it was a lie, a character he had created, the version of Jeonghan from before was a little brighter, a little more present in the moment. The version of him that was in front of you, that you imagined to be the closest to reality, was almost sad, detached from everything.

“Because I forced my right knee a lot, trying to compensate for the lack of my left one, I developed a problem with that one too”

“You’ve never talked about your injuries before, right?” he nodded “Why talk now?”

He was silent again, his lower lip caught between his teeth. That was a great question, one that not even Jeonghan himself knew exactly how to answer.

“I'm not sure, to be honest” he laughed a little. Instead of looking directly at the camera, his eyes were focused on you “Someone came up with the idea at some point and it didn't seem like a bad one, but I think it will only work if I make it to the Olympics.”

“Is that the ultimate goal then, to get to the Olympics?”

He shook his head, that fearless, confident look you had only seen in photos finally making itself known.

“No, the ultimate goal is to win”

As promised, Jeonghan waited for you, Seungkwan, and Vernon outside the clinic. He was nowhere to be seen, really, but the car his assistant informed you of was parked right in front of the door.

You were the first one to exit your own car, while Seungkwan and Vernon prepared the camera to follow along. You could only assume he was the manager. Terribly young for a manager, sure, but a manager nonetheless.

“I assume you’re in” he extended a hand to you “I’m Joshua”

“Hi”

The exchange of words with Joshua was quick, no more than half a dozen. You didn't have much to talk about with him and he wasn't your priority, at least not at the moment. Later, at some other time, talking to him would be great. He had introduced himself as a friend/manager of Jeonghan. Having his point of view would be great and could contribute a lot, but your eyes couldn't leave Jeonghan.

His hair was tied back, but a cap covered much of his face. He had barely said hi to you or the other two. It wasn't a big surprise. While it was true that made up to a certain extent, you didn't expect him to simply welcome you with open arms, but his reaction was strange - or as strange as the reaction of a person you knew little, or nothing, could be.

“Can we film it?” You asked.

Jeonghan stopped and turned towards you. He had forgotten that you and your team would attend his first physical therapy session, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

Since the last time you saw each other, Jeonghan spent hours on end watching documentaries made by you and they all had one thing in common: they were almost like video logs. You followed everyone around documenting every tiny aspect of their lives. All those people told their stories and didn't seem afraid of having their lives exposed. And perhaps for people who didn't lead lives where they had been exposed too much, sincerity came easily.

For Jeonghan, that was never the case.

Being treated as the future, a promise of the sport, had brought a lot of harm and situations that neither he, nor anyone else, had the option to deal with or even, perhaps, ignore.

Cameras were pointed at him, rumors spread and suddenly he wasn't just Yoon Jeonghan, the boy who started skating because it would annoy his little sister. He became someone from whom people expected something.

As much as he could, Jeonghan tried to live up to all of those expectations, realistic or not. He tried to be as perfect as possible, on the ice and off of it. And it only took one day of silence, a few rude unanswered questions, and one bad performance — which had no real effect — for everything to collapse.

“You said you would film anything and everything.”

You grimaced, clearly regretful and maybe even a little embarrassed. It wasn't his intention, but he found your reaction funny anyway.

In your place, Jeonghan would have done much worse.

“Do you think it’s important?”

You nodded, perhaps more forcefully than necessary. Jeonghan laughed, he wanted to hold your head to make sure it was still in the right place.

“The documentary is about your return, so filming you here is important. I asked because it's your first session. I heard it can be painful.”

“It will probably be uncomfortable” he couldn’t deny that “Let’s do it like this, you can record it, if in the end you think it’s bad or that it doesn’t fit, we won’t use it

You quietly followed Jeonghan and Joshua out of the clinic, Seungkwan and Vernon trailing behind you talking in hushed tones. It was no surprise that they were talking. Truth was rehab had been brutal. You knew that it could get hard for Jeonghan, that it could be painful but nothing really prepared you for what you saw. And if it was hard for you to watch him go through that, it was unimaginable to understand how it was for him.

Throughout the entire session, Jeonghan looked in pain, his grunts and the scowl on his face growing with each passing second and new movement. Midway through you told Seungkwan and Vernon to stop filming. You had seen enough and you had more than what you needed for the documentary. 

You would only film his rehab again when he was no longer in such pain, you decided. Out of the many things you learned about Jeonghan was that showing his weaknesses wasn’t something he was too fond of or even comfortable with the idea of it. So there was no real reason to keep recording and you couldn’t stand it either. 

While you watched his face contort in pain, you felt something inside your chest tighten. 

It had never been a real issue before with you. You had always managed to separate your personal emotions from the things you felt while working. More often than not you told stories that were hard to listen to, took someone’s suffering, and put it on the TV for the entire world to see in hopes that maybe a part of their lives would be changed. You had always been able to detach yourself from that. 

However while inside with Jeonghan, such a thing was not possible. You felt your throat constrict and your eyes grow wet and for a short while, you couldn’t breathe either. It made no sense really. Why did it hurt to see this man, you knew nothing about, in pain to the point you wanted to cry? Why did it sadden you so much that he was limping harder than before?

You wanted to approach him, ask if he was okay, if it had been too much. But it was out of line, it was one that you knew you shouldn’t cross. There was this itch though, in the back of your mind, begging you to just ask, to just take a step closer to him. 

It happened so suddenly that you didn’t even see it happening. One second it was just the five of you in the parking lot, in the next there were reporters with mics and cameras pointed at Jeonghan. You noticed how Jeonghan raised his shoulders at the same time he lowered his head. He couldn’t see in front of himself, you were certain. 

Joshua put an arm around Jeonghan’s shoulder while he used the other one to keep them away from him. Not that it was of any use. One of the cameras was directly under his face as if trying to get an expression, anything at all, that could show his discomfort with the situation. From somewhere behind you there were flashes. 

"Do you believe your injury was a result of your own carelessness?"  someone asked. 

You felt your blood run cold for a second and you froze in place, Seungkwan and Vernon behind you. 

"Do you think your skating career is over after such devastating injuries?" someone followed. 

"Did you regret pushing yourself so hard during training, knowing it led to your injury?" 

"How did it feel to watch other skaters progress while you were stuck in rehab?" 

"Are you worried that your injury will define your career more than your achievements on the ice?" 

The questions got progressively worse and you wanted to scream at them to just shut up, and stop. How could they just ambush someone like that with those questions? It made no sense at all. And though you knew that it would cause more harm than good you wished Jeonghan would tell them all to fuck off.

Instead, he kept his head low and just slowly walked to his car while ignoring everyone around him, all the careless words being thrown at him. 

You tried to take a step forward but were held back by Seungkwan, who gripped the strap of your purse. He didn’t say a word, just shook his head. 

“They can’t just do that to him” you almost cried

“If you say anything, it might only make matters worse,” Hansol said, his voice sad. 

That sudden need to protect Jeonghan felt weird but oddly natural as well. Weird because you knew that you shouldn’t, because you hardly knew the guy. Natural because it felt as if you had always done that like it was just second nature to you. 

“He is used to this,” Seungkwan said, still not letting go of your purse. 

“He shouldn’t be! They are barely treating him like a human!”

By the time you turned around, Jeonghan was already inside the car leaving the parking lot. 

The clock on the top of your phone screen told you that it was 4:37 am. You hadn't even realized that you had spent so many hours still awake. 

As soon as you got home from the rehab with Jeonghan, you took a quick shower, ate the leftovers from the night before, and started to look up Jeonghan’s performances.

The man was a celebrity amongst athletes since he was a child. He was always seen as a promise of the sport. He was good from the start. Performing moves that he was still too young to do, entering competitions boys his age never really competed in and somehow managing to either come up to the podium or even winning some of them.

Everything was displayed online. Yearly competitions, practices, and small moments of his life.

Jeonghan's entire life, at least the sports part, was exposed on the internet for anyone, from anywhere in the world, to see. And it wasn't just the competitions, having videos of that part seemed completely normal and expected.

What was scary was all the other content. Some photos of him in school uniform, not one where he was actually looking at the camera, but ones that were clearly taken in secret. Another one from when he seemed to have simply gone out for coffee with Joshua.

You knew he had fans, that he was liked wherever he went, and that he was always followed, but that seemed a bit much.

In reality, watching videos of the competitions was like a gateway to everything that came after.

You knew very little about Jeonghan, only what you had read about in all the articles that you found and all of them had one thing in common: Jeonghan was a huge diva, who thought he was superior to everyone. But after seeing how he had been treated that day, as soon as he got out of rehab, you knew it wasn't like that. It was as if they had appeared out of nowhere, one second the parking lot was empty and the next it was full of journalists, shouting things and asking questions that to many would seem harmless, but were clearly intended to hurt.

Instead of watching more competition videos, not that there were many you hadn't watched yet, you decided to look for the famous video of him treating journalists badly.

You had never found one so easily on the internet. You just typed "Jeonghan and journalists" into the search bar and it was the first video to appear.

It was a scene very similar to the previous day. Jeonghan was in the parking lot, walking towards the guy when he was surrounded by several journalists.

"You didn't get the podium today, are you disappointed?" one of them asked and that was the most harmless question he got. “Did you really try hard or did you think you would get a high score because you were the favorite?” “Why did you fall in such a simple jump?” “Don't you think it was an amateur's performance?”

You didn't want to keep listening to all those meaningless questions, but you couldn't take your eyes off Jeonghan. He still had short hair at the time, even covering his eyebrows. His jaw was clenched, his eyes were hard, and his gaze was focused straight ahead, as he walked slowly to his car. Joshua tried as best he could to control the journalists with their microphones and cameras, but he was just one man against many. Finally, after what felt like ages, two security guards appeared, pushing the journalists away as they began shouting profanities in Jeonghan's direction.

Could those people even consider themselves journalists? Real journalists, who took their work seriously?

There is a very fine line between being a journalist who asks incisive questions and one who is completely disrespectful to the athlete. And those people were anything but professional.

It was no surprise that after that Jeonghan refused to give interviews.

That whole situation happened years before, at the beginning of the previous Olympic cycle, but even so, it was still a moment that haunted him. People remembered him as just that guy, someone who refused to answer simple questions. But what exactly did these people expect? That he was all smiles when he failed to reach the podium, even though he was the favorite in the competition? That he smiles when he hurts?

Finally, you managed to understand why he acted that way, and why his answers were so polite and direct. Jeonghan didn't want to leave room for interpretation. Not that he had much of a choice. People only see what they want to see, but that didn't mean he couldn't try.

Jeonghan couldn’t take his eyes away from your back, he followed your every move. You stood next to Joshua, talking to him quietly, his friend showing you something on his phone. He felt something scratch at his neck. This new and unknown feeling. 

It was unusual for Jeonghan, to want to have someone’s undivided attention. It was usually the other way around and he was never willing to do it, with anyone. And then there you were and suddenly he didn’t like that you were talking with Joshua. 

It wasn’t like you seemed to be having fun either. You moved around with intention, your eyes always focused, your words and questions firm and straight to the point. Jeonghan couldn’t help but wonder if it was always like that with you. If your professional persona always took over who you were in other moments. 

His curiosity was huge but his courage to ask was very little. 

“She may seem like it, but she won’t bite your head off if you talk with her,” someone said on his left.

Seungkwan stood at his side, his hands clasped in front of him while he rocked on his heels. 

“I think she will,” Jeonghan said. 

Seungkwan took his reply as an invitation to sit. 

“You know, in the office, people call her the ice queen” he too looked in your direction, at your serious expression "She’s like that most of the time”

Jeonghan looked at Seungkwan expectantly, he knew there was a but coming soon. All he needed to do was wait long enough. 

“She didn’t want to take this job, our boss forced her to. She’s more into storytelling, real people, with real issues”

“Am I not a real person?”

The offense in Jeonghan’s voice made Seungkwan almost fall off his chair. He didn’t intend for his words to sound like that.

“Of course you are” he laughed nervously while trying to explain it as best as he could “If it were up to her, she would focus this documentary on you, on how you started skating, why, what attracted you to it, how it affected the rest of your life. But your team doesn’t want that, I think. We were told that you already gave many interviews on the matter so there’s no point in talking about it again. They want us to focus on your recovery and then you make it to the Olympics. She’s trying to figure out how to do that in a way that makes someone watch it”

Jeonghan nodded, feeling guilty. It had been his request to not the documentary so focused on the past and more on what was happening in the moment

“She also doesn’t like sports and hated the idea of the job, but that's beside the point”

Both of them laughed, eyes still on your back now that you talked with Vernon, giving him new instructions.

“I’ll make sure that she gets to do the kind of documentary she thinks is best”

Seungkwan stood up, a big smile on his lips.

“Who could have known that the ice queen and the ice prince aren’t actually that cold”

After months of just rehab, it’s finally time for Jeonghan to get back on the ice and it pained you a little to admit that you were looking forward to it. The videos you watched could only take you so far, you wanted to actually see the real thing. Him, in action.

Of course, you know that he wasn’t going to be able to do a third of the things he did on those videos. But you wanted to see him in his element, how he would behave when he was finally around the thing he loved the most in the world — his words, not yours. 

The one thing you were able to learn from Jeonghan was the fact that he indeed loved what he did. Like most people, sometimes he hated it. It was the thing he was most passionate about, yes, but it was also his job, so there were days when he just hated and the mere idea of leaving the house was too much. 

It was too hard to be a professional athlete, it demanded way too much of him. Of anyone, really. Sometimes he wanted to be like everyone else and just not put everything he was into it. But if he did that, he lost one single day, he was scared that he could lose an entire year and maybe that year turned into two and then he could lose his chance to go to the Olympics. 

And he only had one change left. 

So, instead of focusing on much he didn’t want to do, Jeonghan decided to focus on the fact that there was only a year ahead of him and he would be able to do whatever he wanted and have as many down days as he wanted. 

He didn’t know what he wanted to do and what would be the after for him but it gave him something to look forward to. 

“Are you nervous?” you asked him.

Jeonghan was someone who was mostly quiet. You noticed that once he started to feel more comfortable he was one to start the conversation and even crack a few jokes here and there. Seungkwan had been the first person he kind of opened up to, which had left you a hint of jealousy. You wanted to be one he talked with mostly because it was your job but also just because. 

However, he had been especially quiet that day. The three of you went to meet him at his apartment. The idea was that you’d follow him the entire day, from the moment he woke up, to when he went to the doctor to get the final clear and then finally to the ring. 

He had talked very little, his eyes always focused somewhere else. It was clear that his mind was traveling somewhere far, far away. So you left him be, quietly watching him just move around. A silent shooting day, you told yourself  In the end, however, you had a job and he needed to do the talking.

“It’s been too long,” he said, his eyes never really leaving the ice “I don’t know if I can still do it”

You laughed, causing him to finally look at you, eyes wide on his face. He tried to look serious but the corners of his lips were turned slightly up.

“You just don’t feel confident, but you didn’t forget it” you looked at his ankle, it was still weird to see him without any sort of protection around it “How’s your ankle?”

He just shook his head and in that moment you chose to believe that he was said It doesn’t bother me anymore. 

Through the interviews, you found out that Jeonghan is the kind of person to suffer in silence. It was clear from all of his previous injuries, how he competed while in pain and only ever said anything when it was almost too late.

“Do you think I can still do it?”

There was something in his voice like he was almost on the verge of breaking. He sounded vulnerable in a way that was entirely too new, in a way you wanted to push Vernon and his camera away because that was a part of him you knew he didn’t want the world to see. 

Instead, you reached for his arm, patting it a couple of times, hoping that your touch, as ungraceful and awkward as it was, was able to soothe him, even if it was just for a moment. 

“I was watching some of your competitions last night, again, you know? And that guy? He’s still in there, I’m sure of it, I’ve seen him”

You weren’t just saying that to cheer him up, your words were true. You had seen that version of him, little glimpses here and there. He was in the way his eyes suddenly changed and it was like he owned the entire room, in the way he suddenly turned confident, in the way he was charming in a way that was almost sickening but all too enchanting either way. 

Whether or not he believed it himself, Yoon Jeonghan was a force to be reckoned with.

"What kind of kid were you?" you asked, looking up at Jeonghan. 

He sat opposite to you, bent down to tie the laces on his skates. His hair covered his face, you were sure that he couldn't see much, but he didn't seem bothered by it in the least. Maybe he had just gotten used to it. 

Four months had gone by since you started to follow Jeonghan and even before that, he had kept his hair long. And you hated to admit that he looked good, too good even.

"What kind do you think I was?" He smirked at you for a second before going back to his skates.

Rolling your eyes, you couldn't help but smile. 

"This is not how it works. I ask the questions here"

Jeonghan leaned back on his seat, giving you his full attention. His smirk did something to your insides. It felt tight and loose at the same time, like wild butterflies running around on your skin. 

"Come on, humor me"

You pretended to be in deep thought, Jeonghan as a child had been something you thought about for a long time now. Even though he was very serious most of the time there were these small moments where he looked like a kid ready to do something he wasn't supposed to.

"I can only think of you as a troublemaker” you smiled, closing your notes knowing well that you’d make no progress at all with the filming “I’ve seen pictures of you and a child and although you looked very cute, I’m sure you were a handful to your mother”

Jeonghan laughed, throwing his head back and in that moment he looked so carefree.

Even since the start of the documentary Jeonghan had used his most serious expressions, a frown always taking over his beautiful features. But he had been back on the ice for a few days already and in those days he had looked the happiest you had seen him yet.

Of course, he still hasn’t practiced the way he wanted or the way he used to. He still needed to take things slowly: fewer hours, less power in the movements. But it was undeniable that he was a completely different person.

It wasn’t that he had been in a bad mood every single day but there was just something about him in his element, of him doing something he was obviously passionate about, that was so enchanting that it became impossible to look away from him.

“Where did you see those pictures?”

“You do know that I had to google you because I had no idea who you were, right?”

One thing you managed to learn about Jeonghan is the fact that, if in the right mood, he is a trickster and most of all, a flit. You weren’t even sure that he was aware of what he was doing, it seemed like second nature to him.

He put a hand over his chest, faking being in pain. His face contorted and a pout on his lips.

“I thought we were getting to know each other”.

Seungkwan coughed by your side, finally making you remember that there were people around you and that the entire interaction between you and Jeonghan was being recorded.

There was something about Jeonghan that always seemed to make you forget where you were, that maybe there were people around you. You could only suppose that it was the charm of a man who knew exactly what he was doing, who knew how to sweet talk someone.

And Jeonghan knew what he was doing, what kind of words or looks could get a reaction from a woman.

Most of the time while around Jeonghan you had to remind your heart to be calm and quiet. Being around him was a temporary arrangement, as soon as the Olympics started said arrangement would be done and you’d have to go back to your normal life. One that didn’t include Yoon Jeonghan. And you also knew that there wasn’t space for you in his life.

“We’re going to set up the cameras around the ice,” Seungkwan said awkwardly while dragging Verno by the hand.

You watched as the two walked away from you, whispering in secrecy. You could only imagine the kind of things that they were saying. If you knew Seungkwan at all, you were certain that it couldn’t be any good.

“Jeonghan, I ask questions and you answer them. And while one could say that I’m getting to know you, I don’t think it would be possible to say the same thing about me”

Jeongahn's smile was defiant when he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You have a no-bullshit policy, which I should have known, from the start, but I wasn’t expecting someone like you. Although you try really hard to pretend that you’re not, your eyes are kind and you quietly take care of those around you, me included sometimes. You got worried when I was in pain in rehab and when Vernon got hurt it seemed as if you were angry, but you were concerned about him and after that, you asked to have another staff with you so that he wouldn’t need to carry so many things on his own. You and Seungkwan bicker a lot but when he isn’t around for a day you are quieter and your questions have been more direct. That doesn’t make you a lousy documentarist, please don’t think that I’m saying that, you take your job very seriously. I’m saying that you put people above your job. I’m guessing that’s why you wanted to become a documentarist, to begin with, to tell stories”

You stared at him, mouth open wondering just how he had come up with all of that and why he had managed to hit everything right on the stop. Especially the reason why you became a documentarist. It seemed very obvious, yes, but it wasn’t something that you had said.

In fact, your personal life was something that very few people knew. You weren’t one to share your thoughts and what was on your mind with people. Seungkwan was a good friend, but he was a work friend so your personal life was just that, personal. Not that you had someone to share it with, either way.

The apartment was empty when you left and it was in the exact same way and you got back. You were on your own, with no parents, no siblings and most of your friends had given up on you somewhere along the way.

For the longest time, you put your job first. It came before anything and anyone. You were building your career and name at the time so it was hard not to put it first. It was your dream, one that your friends supported at first but were displeased when you decided to put it first.

You had thought that if you made it big on your job if you got hired by a big production company, you’d be able to find the happiness that you had searched for a long time. And while some of it was true, your career was on the right path and you did something you loved, you didn’t have a lot more beyond that going one.

It was become just you and your job.

Was it sad? Yes, but it was also the life you chose.

“Just because I don’t know details of your life, doesn’t mean that I don’t watch you, yn”

You watched as Jeonghan fell for what felt like the hundredth time that day. It didn't make sense, not really. At least not for you. And from the looks of it, for him too.

He was frustrated and completely angry. All those people looking at him, expectations high, waiting for something. He wasn't sure what. For him to fail? To see if he still could do it?

Everything was possible and impossible at the same time.

He couldn't stop his eyes from going after you every time you fell. Somehow, your reaction was the only one that mattered to him. The first few times your face was completely emotionless, as if you were staring at a blank wall. Then Jeonghan fell once again, and again, and again. He stopped counting at 10, but he knew it was much more than that actually. But your gaze, which was fixed on him, became more worried as the minutes passed and he hated being the cause of it.

Somehow, since he met you, only two things were on Jeonghan's mind: skating and you.

He didn't know how, he didn't know why, but you had taken over his every thought. It was as if you had walked through an imaginary door and entered his mind and decided that it was a great place to be.

Even on days when you didn't see each other because there was no recording, he was tempted to talk to you. And on one of those days, he just succumbed to the temptation of picking up the phone and calling you.

“Jeonghan, is everything okay?” was the first thing you said.

He hated that worry was the first emotion he awakened in you. He hated that the first thing you said wasn't "hello" like a normal person. But at the same time, the concern made him feel somehow welcomed. It could, of course, be all in his head, and what he saw as concern for himself was actually concern for the documentary.

"I just wanted to talk," he admitted.

Maybe it was because he had gotten used to talking to you, maybe it was because you offered zero judgment for the way he thought or reacted. Or maybe it was because it was you. Whatever it was, Jeonghan felt comfortable talking to you.

Telling the truth, about everything, was not difficult, in fact, it became something very easy. It was because of you, he knew.

"I realized I don't know anything about you"

You laughed and he listened as you moved through what he imagined to be his apartment.

"That's because I interview you and not the other way around"

He sat on the bed, his legs stretched out in front of him as he supported the rest of his weight on his arms stretched behind him.

"Do you think it's so bad that I know anything about you?"

You remained silent for a few seconds, seeming to think about the idea. It wasn't bad, not at all.

At several moments you found yourself with your cell phone in your hand, ready to send a message or call him. You weren’t sure what, but there was something about Jeonghan that just made you want to tell him everything.

"What do you want to know?" you said with a sigh.

"Whatever you want to share"

The great truth is that very little happened in your life. You lived alone, worked every day, and came home alone. Your last boyfriend, or even a fling, was over a year before. Your friends, if you could call them that, were all from work. Your life was quite still and dull. Even if you wanted to talk about work. Jeonghan was your job. There wasn't much to talk about.

"I don't think I have much to tell" you knew that what you were about to say wasn't the happiest topic in the world, but it was what you had to offer "My mother passed away when I was nineteen, since then I've been alone"

You could still clearly remember the day your father left. There wasn't a fight. He never packed his bag and left. One day he was there when you woke up, he gave you breakfast and took you to school, like he did on most days. But it was his job to pick you up and he never showed up. Your mother showed up instead, her eyes swollen as she did her smile to smile at you and explain to the teacher why she was so late. When you finally got home she said "Now it's just you and me. Daddy had to leave"

For months, years even, you waited for him to come back. You thought one day he would just appear in front of you. You were disappointed when it was your mother who showed up to pick you up when he didn't come to his birthdays when you called the number he had left with his mother and he never answered.

You waited until you turned 18 to go after him. You only had a name, but with that alone, a person can find everything on the internet. You found him in another state, working at a real estate agency. You sat down in front of him and talked for about half an hour. You made up a story about going to college and needing a place to live. You said your name and your mother's name several times, surname and everything, and at no point did he seem to connect one thing to the other. Until the last second, when you said you would think about renting the studio he had suggested, and he walked you to the door. He said, "I left for a reason, don't come back here."

You couldn't believe what you had heard. You couldn't understand why he left and why he never came back. But at that moment you decided that if he didn't want you, you didn't need him. Your mother had worked so hard to make sure you had everything you needed.

Exactly one year later, your mother died in a bizarre car accident. It was like being 7 years old again and losing another person, only in a much more painful way.

"You don’t have any siblings?" Jeonghan's voice on the other end brought you back "Relatives?"

You shook her head, even though you knew he couldn't see you.

"I was an only child, so no siblings. My mom was an orphan so relatives either. My father left when I was a child"

You and Jeonghan spent the whole night on the phone, talking about everything and nothing. From trivial things to more personal matters. His delight upon learning that you didn’t have a boyfriend didn’t go unnoticed. 

Calls and messages became commonplace between the two of you. Your heart raced every time a new message arrived and it was hard to hide your disappointment when you realized it wasn't from him. On days when you didn't see each other, you would stare at your phone, waiting for it to ring, waiting for him to call.

So you hoped he understood when you shook your head in his direction, a request written on your face. That's enough for today, you can try more tomorrow, you hoped he would understand.

Instead of trying one more time after he fell once again, he skated to the edge of the ice. His face was red from the effort, and his chest rose and fell in an uneven rhythm trying to force air back into his lungs.

"I want everyone out," he said, his voice broken.

Seungkwan and Vernon didn't even question it, they simply started putting away the equipment. Jihoon, who had shown up unexpectedly to "supervise" didn't seem to understand what was going on, but turned to help Vernon.

Jeonghan's coach was the only one who approached him, his hand on the athlete's shoulder.

"Go home, rest. Tomorrow we try again"

Jeonghan shook his head. He would only get out of there after managing to make the damn jump, even if he had to stay the whole night.

"Just half an hour more, but I want to be alone"

The coach clearly didn't like the idea, but he knew it was stupid to try and make Jeonghan change his mind.

You turned to him, looking at his face, trying to figure out if he was in pain or if he was just being a big blockhead. Without giving yourself the luxury of thinking about what you were doing, you placed your hand over Jeonghan's and squeezed for a second. You hoped he understood what you meant.

"You have to rest"

You knew everyone was watching, that despite saying they were leaving they weren't actually moving. Jeonghan didn't seem to care and for a moment you decided not to care either.

“Stay,” he said softly, so only you could hear him “please.”

Some strands of hair were stuck to Jeonghan's face, you wanted to get them out of his face, but caution spoke louder. You looked over your shoulder and everyone was still looking at the two of you, but as soon as they noticed your gaze they started moving again. Seungkwan shouted “We’re leaving” and seconds later the door slammed.

Finally, you were alone.

“You have to rest,” you said again.

You took advantage of the fact that no one else was there and removed the strands of hair stuck to his forehead, tucking it behind his ear. Jeonghan sighed, his eyes closing as he leaned towards you. Just that little touch wasn't enough.

“I need to get it right”

"If you stop now and rest you will know what you are doing wrong"

A half smile shined on Jeonghan's face as he leaned further into the barrier, his face just inches away from his.

"My ego loves it when you say I'm doing something wrong”

You pushed him back, needing a little bit more space to yourself. He was too close, you could feel his breath on your nose and cheeks. It was suddenly as if the world was made of Yoon Jeonghan, it was just him and no one else. 

“I’m sure your ego will be just fine”

Instead of pulling your hand back, you allowed it to stay in his chest. Jeonghan smiled for a second before pressing his hand over yours. 

“Just another 30 minutes” he repeated what he said to his coach “I promise I’ll stop in precisely 30 minutes”

You nodded with a sigh. There was nothing you could do to stop him. Something told you that even if you threatened him to leave he would stay and practice, he would stay on the ice for far more than just 30 minutes if you weren’t around. 

So you sat down and waited for him. And he fell time and time again, his face growing displeased with himself at each passing second, each time he jumped but didn't manage to land. 

Jeonghan had done that same jump countless times before with ease as if one's body would simply perform such movements. To him, it always seemed as easy as walking. You had seen it in all of his videos, almost in trance by him. 

“If you’re not done in twenty-one minutes” you pretended to look at your imaginary watch “I’m taking you out of there by force”

Jeonghan threw his head back, laughing. 

“Remember when you said that you never skated before?” Jeonghan asked after finally being able to breathe properly again.

You weren’t too sure how, but he had stopped after 30 minutes. A big smile on his face after he managed to land the jump after so many tries. After getting it right once, he didn’t get it wrong again. It was like something clicked inside his brain as if he had found the last missing piece of the puzzle.

Of all the things you said to Jeonghan, from the most personal to the most trivial, that was, by far, the only one you regretted. You had told him over the phone but he looked horrified, it was easy to imagine the wide eyes on his face.

But him standing there, in front of you, with a smile that could only be seen on the face of a mischievous child, said much more than any words he could utter.

“No,” you said, shaking your head, already moving back.

You had learned several peculiarities about Jeonghan in all the months you spent by his side, and one of the most glaring was the look in his eyes when he was about to do something he shouldn't.

“You have to try, at least once” his lips were a mixture of a smile and a pout “You will have the best teacher in the world”

You saw it and shook your head again.

“I can’t trust a teacher who spent the day falling” you pointed to the rink behind him.

As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You didn't know if your words would offend him, you hoped he knew it wasn't your intention. But you also knew that hell was paved with good intentions. Jeonghan was silent for a minute, his face serious, his eyes not leaving yours for an entire minute.

Then he smiled, his nose wrinkling a little as he laughed, loudly. It didn't take long for you to join him.

“You’re evil,” he said, trying to control himself, but failing “This way you’re going to break my heart”

“I think there are few things in this world that can break your heart.”

You would definitely be one of them, Jeonghan wanted to say, but he held his tongue in his mouth. He knew he couldn't say that, he knew that any word said wrongly could simply ruin everything he had built so far. If he could even say he built something. He liked to think so.

From the first time you spoke, Jeonghan knew there was no going back, at least for him. He had never done anything like that. He had never called someone in the middle of the night simply because he wanted to hear someone's voice. And in this case, it wasn't just someone's voice, it was your voice that he wanted to hear.

With each passing sentence, Jeonghan found himself falling more in love with you and he wasn't able to say why. Maybe he could blame it on your eyes, always so focused, but somehow when they turned to him, they seemed so sweet and sincere. Or your voice, which gave orders and asked incisive questions, but as soon as the cameras were turned off it became gentle and almost shy. Maybe it was the fact that you seemed like a lioness when you were working, never giving space for unfounded questions, but you were shy when it was just the two of you alone.

He liked this version of you, who was right in front of him, who seemed completely comfortable with him, to the point of making jokes — something that until that moment you hadn't done yet.

“We always have extra pairs in the back, I'm sure one of them is your size” he had made sure you would, with Seungkwan's help of course “And then we try it, what do you think?”

Even though you were shaking your head, you went to the closet where you knew the skates were stored.

With your knees bent and shaking, you stepped onto the ice and immediately regretted giving in to Jeonghan's will. You didn't know how he had managed it, but in the closet, there was a brand new pair of skates, your size. Jeonghan had smiled as he bent down to tie your shoelaces,

“I’m going to fall flat on my face,” you said as you grabbed the bars.

Jeonghan held your face in his hands, your eyes fixed on his.

“I won’t let you fall”

The way the words left his lips made your heart skip a beat, or maybe several of them. You could feel it on the back of your throat and you could swear that your hands shook a little as you accepted the hand Jeonghan had extended to you. 

You wished it could just stop. Not for your heart to stop beating altogether but for it to stop reacting to Jeonghan. Everything changed after that first call and you weren’t too sure of where it was. He had, someway, somehow, become a pivotal point of you. His voice, his eyes. The way tingles started to run down through your body the moment his skin came in touch with yours. How, despite all odds, he made you feel safe in a way you weren’t too sure you had ever experienced before.

When he said that he wasn’t going to you fall, you believed him so you held his hands — strong enough that you were sure were hurting him but he didn't seem to mind — and allowed Jeonghan to pull you into the rink. 

“Don't move your feet” he said, voice ever so sweet but with a slight hint of teasing “I know it's probably hard, but let me take control here”

Forcing out all of the remaining air inside your lungs, you did as he asked. Instead of keeping your focus on the ice under your feet, you kept them in Jeonghan's face. A mistake, of course. 

His eyes were too intense if you could say that. You didn't want to understand what was happening. Perhaps for the first time since you met Jeonghan, you didn't want to understand what it could mean. You were scared. What, exactly, you weren’t sure.

“I didn’t even have to ask you to look at me,” he said and you laughed a little, automatically looking away “Keep looking at me”

The whole experience of skating for the first time, or being guided, was not being registered by your brain. All you could see, think, feel, was Jeonghan, as if he had become a central point of everything.

“I think we should stop here”

You hoped your voice was loud enough and judging by the look on Jeonghan's face, it was. The smile fell from his lips and it was as if a small light in his eyes had gone out.

You hated that you were the one causing that reaction in him, but you knew it was best to stop everything before it went too far.

"I thought that…"

“We can’t blur the lines that much” you shook your head.

You didn't know exactly who you were trying to convince, him or you. You also weren't sure you had to convince yourself of anything. It was as if your brain had split in two. One part, probably the loudest, wanted you to just let things happen. You knew you weren't doing anything wrong, you weren't doing anything much really. What you did outside of your working hours and who you did it with was your problem and no one else's.

But the other part, one that spoke softly and that should have had much less strength, said it was dangerous, but also didn't offer much reason to be dangerous.

Yet somehow, that was the side you chose to listen to.

"Why?" He asked forcing his feet to the ground, making the two of you stand in the center of the rink. “What line are we blurring?”

You shook your head, hands clinging to his waist as you felt your feet begin to slide.

“I don’t know” you whispered in response “We are working”

Jeonghan leaned forward and pressed his lips to your cheek. With a sigh, he let his forehead fall onto your shoulder and closed his eyes.

You didn't know exactly where your skepticism came from, but you were also sure it wasn't completely unfounded. But truth be told, you wanted to blur that line and any others that might appear along the way.

“Go on a date with me,” he said “If you still feel that way, there’s nothing we can do. Just don’t… don’t stop something that hasn’t even started yet”

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if you enjoyed reading, please reblog and leave a comment, it really does mean the world to me and i would love to know your thoughts. thank you! 💕

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[rosedpetal]

Until Death Do Us Part

Summary: Harvey and you have been on a rocky road lately, but hopefully, you can still find each other.

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader

Word count: 932

Warnings: stablished relationship (reader and Harvey are married), mentions of body image struggles, hints at +18 themes.

Masterlist

"No. Absolutely not." Your husband frowned when you came out from the closet wearing your 'costume'.

A huff of annoyance leaves your lips.

"What the fuck is wrong now? Did I gain weight and suddenly you can't get up or something?" Venom drips from your sarcastic remark and Harvey rubs his temples.

"Why are you like this? Jesus Christ, Y/N, it's not about some shit like that, stop trying to make me a bad guy at every given chance!" He snaps. "It's just your stupid wings, okay? You look like you came straight from a Barbie movie, when you said you'd like to roleplay being a fairy, I thought you'd use one of those Lord of the Rings-"

"Those are elves. Not fairies. They don't have wings!" You seethe, taking your plastic wings off and accidentally pressing the light button on them, turning the pink leds on, and Harvey's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"I'm sorry if my knowledge in a fictional world lore is lacking, it's because I actually have a real job."

That was cruel and uncalled for and he knew it. Harvey had a bad habit of saying the most callous things without even thinking. It didn't help that he hated the idea of roleplaying from the very beginning.

"How could I forget, it's the only thing you care about!" You raise your voice, and it breaks in the end. "Tonight was supposed to be fun!"

Harvey immediately regrets the jab he made at your wings. Well, it's not that he couldn't get himself to be motivated by you while you were wearing them... It's just that it was fucking weird because he was a grown man and he was pretty sure his kid niece wore the same pink fairy wings every Halloween.

And he could explain that to you, but you just had to make a self deprecating comment about your body and imply that he wasn't man enough to look past his partner putting on some weight.

Which was another ridiculous thing, because, seriously? He couldn't care less if you were a size 2 or 20. It didn't matter. He married you because he loved you, inside and out, and you weren't an airhead that couldn't carry on a conversation with him. He respected you. He was interested in what you had to say (most of the time, at least).

But for months now, you two have been fighting nonstop, and more than often saying some hurtful shit to each other and no longer searching for the comfort of each other's arms in the middle of the night.

He wondered if your sudden self consciousness regarding your body was because you've been stress-eating ever since the chasm between you two was created.

Harvey was selfish, harsh, arrogant and snappy, but he wasn't insensitive to how women sometimes had insecurities that ate them alive.

He sighed, following you in the closet, his chest tightening at the sigh of your angry tears while you put on sweatpants and a top (the sleepwear you wore on nights you made sure no intimacy was gonna happen).

He even agreed on going to therapy with you, which he thought was an admission of defeat, that you two weren't mature enough to solve your problems on your own.

"Honey." He called, his voice soft with regret.

He hates the 'homework' your therapist gives you every week. A dinner date, a little getaway, a road trip, sitting down and talking for an hour. He feels like his own relationship is being scripted and that you can't find common ground anymore.

"What?" You wipe your tears, unable to look at him in the eyes.

"We don't roleplay." He said in a teasing tone. "Why would I want you to pretend to be someone else when you already exist?"

He gently holds your face in both hands, wiping the remaining tears with his thumbs.

"I'm an idiot. I promise my reaction has nothing to do with whatever's been making you feel vulnerable right now. Seriously. The wings just reminded me of halloween, and halloween reminded me of children going trick-or-treating and you don't want your husband to be thinking of children in the bedroom, do you?"

You grimaced. "God, no."

"Glad we're on the same page, babe." He gently pressed his forehead against yours. "Dance with me."

"There's no music." You sniffled.

"We have a nice record player in the living room. Come on, baby."

Gently, he guided you out from the room, his fingers intertwined in yours as he put on some sappy jazz music. He sways barefoot with you on his arms, your head on his chest, and it takes you back to simpler times.

"I'm sorry. For everything." He's the first to speak, and you appreciate the sentiment, because you know how hard it is for him to apologize, specially when he's the first one to bend the knee to make peace.

"We'll get through this." You mumble, and he kisses the top of your head, and suddenly the golden ring on your finger feels lighter.

"I love you more than anything in the world, darling. Please, don't doubt that. I need you to remember that every single day, specially when I'm at my worst."

"I love you too, Harvey."

He knows there's a long way to go, but the little progress you made tonight makes his heart feel more at ease, as long as you're both on the same side, because he knew with every fiber of his being that he meant it when he said 'until death do us part'.

[basofy]

pinned post just because i dont have one and others do

hi im miguel and im a guy

especifically a bi trans guy from venezuela, i live there, i speak spanish and english

i am 22 years old

i have a total of 11 CATS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i like drawing messy stuff and experiment a lot and somuch of the stuff i draw comes from the heart even the embarrassing stuff. i like drawing silly stuff and a lot of vent art and stupid stuff and gay sex but you dont get to see that

my art tag is #my stuff

sometimes i like to make crafts too like plushies and clay figures but im no proffesional with it, the tag i tend to use is #my plushies . i also have some plushies that ive bought or been gifted and i take them everywhere and post about them ocasionally :)

i ocasionally sell commissions so i guess i'll edit this when i do but rn i'm busy and tired

be nice to me because i overthink a lot i might be mentally ill probably, trying to go to therapy soon but getting appointments is hard ¯\(ツ)/¯

i ALWAYSSSSSSSS read tags !!!!!!!1!!!!!!!!! as long as tumblr notifies me so keep this in mind please

i tend to like media thats colorful and cartoony and stupid and with fucked up people and with messages of love cuz im cheesy

stuff im currently interested on most is the lisa the painful games, kaiba 2008, chainsaw man, oneshot, yume nikki and its fangames, the mother series, undertale/deltarune, but i like other stuff too and sometimes i might reblog or draw for it, you can always ask me if ive drawn art of something

sometimeeeeeeeeeeeees i do requests but if you send one i might draw it 5 months later

i ocasionally have bad tastes in characters and media i do that, also i enjoy overanalyzing

please do keep in mind that there is fanart of both children's stories and adult's stories in this account. would like if you didn't follow if you're under 16.

another disclaimer: i tend to make art of harsh topics sometimes, all of it coming from own personal feelings, and i take it very seriously. also if you see me make fanart of characters who are family/are an adult and a kid/a victim and their abuser, these are not meant to be seen as ship material and i wish nobody sees my art like that.

i don't post alllllllllllll of my art here because managing accounts is tiring but i have a twitter and an insta

i have a silly strawpage you can send me stuff there or look at the million characters and gifs i put in it, this thing is sensory to me

someone asked me the brushes i use so here they are if you want them

also i have a kofi in case you ever feel like donating to me :) i'm always in need of money lol

[cienie-isengardu]

My RepCom Musing: if there were (clone) strills everything would be much better

For me, the biggest missed opportunity & disappointment of the Republic Commando story is that NO ONE APPARENTLY CAME UP WITH IDEA TO CLONE MIRD. And I swear, everyone would be better off with strill puppies (kittens?) around. Like seriously. Vau? Mird is what kept Vau alive and happy for decades and is literally what makes Vau soft and caring. Now multiply Mird and Vau won’t magically change from hardened veteran & harsh training sergeant into overprotective, overemotional dad, sure, but it would definitely make it easier for him to show his care and deeply hidden emotions once each squad of his batch gets a cute lil clone!Mird to take care of (and be taken care of in return). Can you imagine all the cadets’ excitement and wonder for their own strill, for the unconditional love and loyalty of an highly intelligent and smart animal and for the Vau’s trust given alongside it? All the things boy!Vau must feel at some point too, when he was stuck with an abusive family or shortly after leaving them and be on his own in an unknown, uncaring galaxy? Can you imagine him swarmed by the puppies and clones with a thousand and one question on how to deal with strill so he could unleash all his love for Mird on everyone around?

Or Atin, after losing his first batch mates? Or even after Geonosis? No point for violence when you can drop an emotional support animal on a hurt, depressed human being. Deltas too could benefit from lil Mird. What could be better than a strill for emotionally stunted people with even more an emotionally shut down trainer? Beside the whole long-term therapy, I mean.  

Jango too should get a strill, the man is like one, walking trauma and Boba would be better to hang out with a loyal pet than Aurra Sing or other assholes.

Where is a cute lil clone!Mird for each squad of Vau’s batch, I demand to know?! A loyal strill  to make everything better? WHY NONE OF YOU in-universe SMARTASS THOUGHT TO GIVE MIRD A BUNCH OF SMALL PUPPIES (KITTENS) TO MAKE KAMINO A BIT BETTER PLACE FOR THE STRILL, VAU AND CLONE CADETS? Everyone would be mentally healthier!

Well maybe beside Kal who could have a heart attack once Jaing brought the strill puppy or two or a whole pack and Skirata was forced to explain how that happened to overprotective Vau & Mird XDDD 

UNLESS Vau wanted to do so but Kaminoans, remembering that this animal hunts them down out of boredom decided FUCK NO. Then I will accept the canon as it is, but only then…

(I do remember Vau sicing Mird on Ordo in book canon but I will admit I do not have a clue what was the point of this action besides making us, readers, to dislike Walon on the spot. I mean, killing people and physically trashing cadets? Sure, it makes sense within his characterization. But using Mird like that without any logical reason and just for fun? Nah, I will pass. Like Ordo lacked trauma and reasons to dislike strill and Vau when Kal had plenty of his own complaints about Walon to pass to his kids.)

[storiesofsvu]

Alright, happy Thursday hoes, lets get to this.

Mothership first

Okay… interesting open…

Omg…how many times are they gonna use the trope of “don’t touch that!” “who the hell are you?” surprise it’s the new laywer…

Not surprised its another old white dude, but at least he’s not as old as mccoy

Okay seriously…. If they get rid of Samantha I will not be watching this show anymore..

I wonder if they’re going to bring this staff change up on svu too considering this guy is also now carisi’s boss… but the writers seem to have forgotten that these shows all exist together until they want to do a crossover.

If this was svu the ada would be storming into the squad room yelling at the detectives for making a mistake that’s gonna cost them their case. Why don’t we get to see that on mothership? I want more crossing over between departments, cops never show up in the gallery either, just to testify if they’re needed.

Oooo yesss that maroon suit. I see you ma’am!

Man they’re just right fucked with this case aren’t they?

This defence attorney is super crusty

How come these videos are coming up NOW and not before things went to trial??

This judges office is barba’s office. They really only have so many sets, hey? (also the continuity of that office on this show/universe drives me fucking insane).

My subtitles keep cutting in and out and that is also driving me insane

Toronto time.

Will I pay attention? Likely no

JESUS FUCK talk about a cold fucking opening wow.

Big surprise I stopped paying attention halfway through the ep. Like, it’s fully muted right now and I’m working on writing LOL

SVU time

BRUH is this maria stuff ive been seeing all over twitter legit?! I thought people were fucking clowning LOL

Olivia in uniform just fucking makes me so fucking weak every single time

Clearly the other captain hasn’t been in the field a lot if that was her immediate reaction to that crime scene

Okay… hear me out… olivia literally saved maria’s life and stayed on the phone with her ALL night. We all know she has a habit of taking in strays… there’s no doubt maria became a cop because of liv… maria would have reached out TO HER about her graduation, not the other way around…

Velasco getting actual screen time finally. I do have to say, im back on my Velasco bullshit…

LOL. I know it was unintentional but the harshness of velasco’s knock on the door killed me.

4 hours of law and order is too much. Im getting bored and this is the show I actually like. I think imma start skipping Toronto cause mothership does hit some days

If this girl has a good enough lawyer she could easily get off on an insanity type plea… tbh this episode would’ve been way better on criminal minds. That would’ve been bad ass.

This episode is almost over and we got absolutely NO closure on the maria thing AND we didn’t get to go to court. Im OVER this fucking show man lol

Liv being back in her bac nail polish era is bomb though

Fin doesn’t strike me as a scotch guy… this is weird..

Okay… liv is really not okay. Like this girl needs support, she needs proper and regular therapy, she needs a break from work. Go home and spend time with your son instead of drinking cheap wine alone in a bar? Also while we’re talking about drinking alone after work being all sad, can we touch on the fact that her mother was an alcoholic, and that was what *killed* her… this is incredibly worrisome and I doubt we’re ever going to touch on it/get it fleshed out like we should…

Okay we at least got some maria closure. Thank you.

OC time!

Jet *attempting* to control stabler, woof. At least someone’s trying loooll

This bitch is so dead

Part of me feels like its bullshit that se wouldn’t know any of this about her own brother, but also I never talk to my family so…. LOL.

Fuck he’s creepy as shit

There is NO WAY THAT TINY MAN IS THE SAME SIZE AS ELLIOT

The fact that it took THIS long for someone higher up to question his anger/trauma/etc affecting his job is wild.

THE BARTENDER IN ME IS FUCKING DYING. I had a PHYSICAL reaction to that conversation.

“you’ve never had a long island ice tea?!” “I don’t like ice tea it’s too bleh” guy promptly orders two to prove that theyre good? THERE IS NO ICED TEA IN LONG ISLANDS

Cragen’s really just gonna be in the last second of this episode isn’t he?

Everyone: proper ear pieces

Jet: nah. Air pod.

I really thought that stabler was gonna be missing for a like, a good chunk of time with no one knowing.

OHHHH right! The foil he found in the bathroom garbage and immediately licked… right… I forgot about that. Now the question is who it belongs to…..

[tempobaekh]

Rating Penthouse: War In Life characters

I asked my followers on Instagram to give me Penthouse characters to rate and my thoughts about them so I thought to post it here as well. Now this is my personal opinion about how I feel about the characters and how much I will rate them

⚠️⚠️THIS CONTAINS A FEW SPOILERS⚠️⚠️

My Instagram: Tempobaek

Logan Lee

10/10

Lemme just say I love him SO MUCH

LOGAN LEE BEST BOY

I absolutely loved his character and the fact that he was one of the few people who wants justice and is honest made me love him even more

Him playing Go Hu Dong was amazing as well and I didn't recognize him at all at first like he played it so well with the accent, costume and wig and everything

His accent and language switch in between English and the Busan accent Korean was so fucking sexy🥵

✨Mr. Joo✨

My man was also smart with his revenge

He was also serving amazing LOOKS every episode in the two seasons and I loved every single one of them

And I'm going to be honest here, after watching the preview for S2 ep13 his laugh was creepy in one of the clips and after reading a few theories I lowkey thought that he would be the next villian

I regret suspecting him now

But instead of that they gave us a bigger plot twist and blew up our man with a bomb😩

He literally went ✨LiGhT iT Up LiKe DyNaMiTe✨ (I'm so sorry)

I would've rather have him be a villian than die in the bomb

I MISS HIM ALREADY AND LOVE HIM SO MUCH😭

DID I MENTION THAT I LOVE HIM

Joo Seok Kyung

7/10

Another one that annoyed me angered me so much🙄

Like she was ruthless and had no mercy when it came to bullying and putting people down that she thought were a rival or putting people down in general

She didn't change even when Rona died

She also went as far as to like cheat her way to win the Cheong Ah Art High School trophy and blackmailed Cheon Seojin to win the trophy

But there were times where she would show emotions and those would be often her break down and weak moments

And those moments would really show how she is broken inside and puts up a careless and brave image, she is someone who needs healing even though healing takes time

I also saw someone saying like 'oh Seok Kyung hates her mom so much'

Yeah she hated her mom but she didn't hate her to death like she didn't wish death upon her

Seok Kyung was heart broken when she heard Suryeon's death and that showed that she still loved her mom even though Suryeon didn't give birth to them

I was heart broken when I saw that she cut her hair because here was no one there to tie it for her bc Suryeon loved Seok Kyungs long hair and that's why she didn't cut it but after he mothers death no one was there to tie her hair for her

I started seeing her in a different light after a while bc again it showed that he character was very broken emotionally and needed healing

I'm interested about seeing more of her character development after the last ep where she defended Rona

Also my girl is so hot, another one that was serving amazing looks

Joo Seok Hoon

8/10

He was lowkey annoying at first ngl

Like my man was just🧍🏻‍♂️

It annoyed me so much how he defended his sister so much, fell for her tricks, covered up for her and did anything she said EVEN though its wrong

But after some time I understood that he cared for and that she was the only family left to him

I mean Seok Hoon hate Joo Dan Tae so he doesn't counts and Suryeon was dead at the moment

I will still not forgive him for bullying Seol A even though he regrets it

It also annoyed me how he didn't stood up for Rona at all in the first season even though he liked her

By he got so much better in S2, he was even part in the revenge plan

He is literally the human CCTV camera in Hera Palace like he knows more than even the viewers know

The way he was protective of Rona when he found out she was alive was so aDORABLE

And my man was amazing in the last episodes

I love him

Cheon Seo Jin

4/10

THIS WOMAN MAKES MY BLOOD FUCKING BOIL

Like I sometimes just was to 🤜🏻👩🏻

But sometimes I wanna hug her😩

Idk I feel like she became a horrible person bc of greed and that he father and mother placed too high expectations for her

Instead of praising her for her accomplishments her parents wanted her to do more

Maybe that's why she was desperate for love and affection and found that in Joo Dan Tae even though he pretended to like her

But that definitely does not dismiss her horrible actions

But also the harsh past made her the could hearted person, like she left her father to die

She felt more care towards her daughter after she almost lost her because Eunbyeol tried to commit suicide

She was in alot of pain and you could see it in her cries and when she was on the phone with the person

Soyeon's acting was amazing in that scene

She started to care more about her ex husband and daughter when she saw how much Eunbyeol was suffering and she realized that she genuinely liked Ha Yoon Chul hwen she saw how horrible Joo Dan Tae was

I did feel bad for her sometimes but after seeing that she didn't change I really didn't feel any sympathy for her

She needs therapy

Girlie was shocked when the doctor said she is losing her voice like bestie you are screaming every episode

She was also serving amazing looks every episode

Ha Yoon Chul

5/10

The first male character I simped for

Like I am not going to deny it but he is hot🥵

But the first few episodes he was an absolute asshole and greedy

But I never expected him to be Yoonhee's ex boyfriend

I did like him a tiny bit when he saved Yoon Hee from Kyu Jin

His entrance in S2 with the helicopter was damn hot

And I WAS SO SHOCKED WHEN HE SAID MEET MY WIFE OH YOON HE

LIKE YAY MY SHIP IS SAILING

I spoke too soon

His character development and fighting skills were hot as well

He was ADORABLE with Rona and Yoonhee

I seriously thought that Rona was his daughter

BUT THAN AT THE CHEONG AH FESTIVLE OOF SIR I WANTED TO PUNCH HIM

I WAS SO MAD WHEN HE SABOTAGED RONA'S PERFORMANCE

I began hating him after that💀

Like he went 📈📉 with his character development

AND THEN HE CLEANED EUNBYEOL'S MEMORY FROM THAT NIGHT LIKE SIR SKSHSKSHKS SHE DID HAT TO YOUR DAUGHTER

I actually asked my dad what he thought about what Yoon Chul did and this was his reponse:

"If you look at it from a parents perspective they would want to do anything if they saw their child in pain like he did but I would've also scolded her and had a conversation with her about why she did it instead of wiping her memory from that night like he did. "

So that's that

I LOVED IT WHEN YOON HEE CAME WITH THAT BLOW AND TOLD HIM RONA WAS HER DAUGHTER

Jonghoon's acting was chef's kiss in that scene

I was going to rate him a 4 but I gave him that 5 when I saw how he was at court, he admitted to his wrong doings but also still had feelings for Yoon Hee

I wanna see his reaction in s3 to Rona now bc now that he got to know that is his daughter I wonder how he will be

Lee Kyu Jin

1/10

AN ASSHOLE

USELESS

WHY IS HE HERE

Like I have nothing to say about him rather than I hate him and that he useless just like his wife and son

HE IS LITERALLY NOTHING WITHOUT HIS MOM

I'm only giving him that one bc he was funny in the episodes

THATS THE ONLY REASON HE IS THERE JUST FOR COMEDY PURPOSES

Go Sang Ah

0.5/10

ANNOYING 2.0

USELESS 2.0

ALL SHE DOES IS SPEND HER HUSBAND AND MOTHER IN LAW'S MONEY

LIKE SHE AIN'T EVEN WORKS

UNLIKE KANG MARI

The only thing she does is gossip

And spills the tea☕

SHE IS LITERALLY NOTHING WITHPUT HER HUSBAND AND HIS FAMILY

Giving her a 0.5 bc she is kinda funny eh

Lee Minhyuk

0/10

ANNOYING 3.0

USELESS 3.0

ASSHOLE 2.0

Idk if it runs in the family but again he is useless

And a dumbass

He also nothing without his parents

Why is he there tho like you ain't even funny

All he can do is cause trouble

And bullied Jenny

His dumbass slipped and broke his own arm and blamed it on Rona smh🤦🏻‍♀️

Sometimes I just wanna 🤜🏻👦🏻

Also my dude was trying to sound all intimidating by saying

"Oh Jenny's father is a scary man, yOuR dEaD BaE rOnA"

Like dude worry about yourself bitch you are dead first for bullying Jenny

But like I hate the character but LOVE THE ACTOR HE IS SO HOT OMFG

Joo Dan Tae

0/10

ANOTHER ONE THAT PISSES ME OFF SO MUCH AND MAKES MY BLOOD BOIL

SOMETIMES I DONT WANNA 🤜🏻 I WANNA 🔪

LIKE I HATE HIM WITH A FUCKING PASSION

I DONT CARE ABOUT HIS PAST OR ANYTHING HE IS A GREASY, GREEDY, PSYCHO, OBSESSIVE MANIPULATIVE, POSSESSIVE PSYCHO

Like I legit thought he was nice in he first ep and then I saw him kiss Seojin and-

Me: 🤨😧😃🤮 MY EMOTIONS WENT LIKE THAT

LIKE HE IS SO FUCKING POSSESSIVE OVER SURYEON, AEGYO AND SEOJIN LIKE ITS DISGUSTING

I WAS GETTING YANDERE BEHAVIOUR FROM THAT OLD MAN

PURE TRASH

Bae Rona

9/10

I LOVE HER NOW

RONA BEST GIRL

She was also annoying at first and was very ungrateful

But over time she got better, still a tiny bit annoying sometimes but better

When she came back from the US I WAS LIKE GIRL NO YOU FINNA RUIN THE PLAN

I do feel bad for her bc she went through alot with bullying, her mom going to jail not only once but twice, her getting to know that Yoonchul who she started liking sabotaged her performance, and also literally almost dying

My girl has been through a lot

AND WHEN SHE RUNNED TOWARDS THE STAIRS OUTSIDE WHEN EUNBYEOL WAS CHASING HER I WAS LIKE GIRL RUN TO THE HALL YOU RUNNIN OUTSIDE

I am excited to see her reaction to getting to know that Yoon Chul is her dad

Part 2 is also posted!

[marigoldsandbuttercups]

Hey your blog looks pretty good so far! Can we maybe get some general hcs on each guys personality?

Why thank you! I really appreciate that ❤❤

Personality Headcanons

Sans :

- Is more likely to sit back and observe rather than be actively involved in it.

- Is that one friend who randomly messages you once every 3 months with a meme.

- He's not very good with words, so he prefers to show he cares by doing things or spending time with people.

- Doesn't trust easily but is more willing to than some of the others.

- he's touch starved but it's not obvious, though you'll notice how his shoulders always brushing against yours.

- Seems like a social butterfly, isn't. If he's faced with new people, he can come off as a little aloof but break a joke in front of him and he'll begin to ease up.

- He's incredibly passive aggressive when he needs to be.

- He seems quiet, but he doesn't take shit. I feel like this becomes more apparent after he gets some therapy and learns to not beat himself up so much or allow people to step all over him.

Papyrus:

- He's painfully aware of how people see him and tends to use it to mess with them.

- His cooking has improved but sometimes, just sometimes he will serve them food that tastes odd to see if they're honest with him.

- He loves dancing! He has a radio in his kitchen and is always blasting pop music to dance to, often waking Sans up even though he's upstairs, it's effective!

- Papyrus can be very, very sarcastic. It's just the way he says it is so subtle you wouldn't even realize he's low-key shading you.

- Heard the term "Soft Boi", lives by it. Though he calls himself a Soft Cool Dude™.

- Is the most patient out of them all, Wine coming in a close second.

- He sometimes forgets that he's incredibly strong. Like sometimes he'll be walking down the street and hear a cat hiding under a car and.... He just lifts the car up like nothing-

- Speaking of this, although he forgets that one aspect, he remembers everything. You said you liked green mangos a few months ago on a whim? He's bringing you some from the market today cause he saw that they were on sale.

- It's hard for him to read the room sometimes, so he depends on seeing people's expressions to see what is going on.

- He uses internet lingo ironically, yes, he knows all of them and he low-key gets excited when someone is able to catch on to what he's doing.

Blue:

- Yes, he knows he looks cute, he knows he looks babey, stop shoving it in his face or he'll prove otherwise, Kelly.

- You thought Sans was passive aggressive, you thought wrong, meet Blue.

- Him and Edge like to team up and harass the Karen's at PTA meetings. It's a fun hobby.

- He loves to workout, but he also loves to pig out on junk food. You'll only find out if you're his best friend and he'll make you swear to secrecy.

- He loves makeup! He especially loves bright shades that make his eyelights pop.

- Blue isn't as trusting as he seems either. You have to remember, he is still a sans underneath that bold exterior. He knows who to trust and who to be wary of, those cute looks aren't there for nothing!

- The second flirtiest of the bunch, he knows how to charm people easily with just his words, it's just that sometimes he can't be taken seriously because of his height and it pisses him off to no end.

- He doesn't get attached easily, it takes a while for him to really think of you as someone who he will be there for everything and anything.

- He has no filter. He will absolutely tell it to your face like it is, why hide when you can just get it over with?

- He is someone who can dish it and can take it, he enjoys some good banter and teasing.

Stretch:

- An Ass. Sgshjssj okay but seriously he likes to use his magic abilities to mess with people, usually it's for little harmless pranks. Like when he formed ghouls with his magic and proceeded to "haunt" his brother the whole day.

- He can and absolutely will spam you with memes at random times, it's his hobby and that's your bonus as a friend!

- He can't have a resting bitch face, it's just too hard for him cause he can't help but have a small smile on his face, even when he's relaxing.

- Likes to say he listens to unique music but BTS is blasting in his headphones.

- He calls anyone he's close with "honey" it's just nice to him, ya know?

- But with a lover, he calls them his little "bumblebee"

- Is the least trusting of the bunch, he's just too anxious and is scared of the possibility of being betrayed, even if the chances are painfully low.

- He's the friend that is just so weird he's unique in his own little way.

- He likes to talk to bees when he sees them. Blue is low-key concerned when he hears him having full on conversations with them.

- He tends to mutter to himself a lot, it's a habit of his. He's mostly making jokes about himself.

Red:

- Chugs his respect women juice everyday. He doesn't play around.

- He's a huge flirt, but even he gets a little shy, it's just not obvious. But if you look close enough, you can't see a faint red hue on his cheeks, it's adorable.

- He's a big softie, but he's just so awkward with his emotions after all he's been through.

- After getting over that initial awkwardness, he's a romantic, but he tends to go for the less cheesy routes.

- He's the most easygoing of the bunch but he still has his tough shell on, he's used to fleeting relationships already.

- He's quite rowdy, too. Sure, he's not the most active but man, he would love to get in some trouble or do a ridiculous prank.

- He usually has a reason for when he does things, just saying he's doing it for no reason is something he does.

- His anger is explosive, but that's only when he really lashes out. Most of the time it's just him being annoyed.

- He can easily sense a person's intent just from their stance, it's what he had to do to survive in the underground, it's just something that stuck with him.

Edge:

- An Ass, Part 2.

- Unlike Stretch, Edge is haughty, he worked his bony ass off to get to where he is and he will gladly own it.

- He also lacks any sort of filter, but his words come out a lot more scathing and harsher.

- He keeps everyone at arm's length and doesn't really bother to get close to them unless they make an effort .

- He's very sassy and can go on for hours debating against anyone, his favourite is Jill with the pathetic excuse for fruit pizza. She's dumb, but she has fire, it's almost respectable. Almost.

- He's snobby and very prickly but it's more so to protect himself from giving into his emotions.

- If by some luck you happen to be his friend, he will absolutely make sure you leave his house feeling stuffed.

- He loves tiny animals, something about them reminds him of simpler times before his life went to shit.

- He also doesn't give a fuck about anyone's opinions but his own... And maybe someone he cares about, big maybe tho.

Black:

- Man, this is the third installment for Another Ass™.

- He actually has the potential to be the smoothest of them all, but he's just so prickly and a butt that it's almost a shame.

- He's very, very competitive. If you offer to play against you... Godspeed. You can almost see the fire in his eyes and he just becomes an entirely different person.

- Though, most of the time, he is pretty level headed. He also is perfect if you want to come to him for advice, he's honest about it but he's not too harsh like Edge.

- He doesn't really have to yell to have people's attention, he's incredibly intimidating.

- He also doesn't really care for romantic relationships all that much. He barely had any relationship in his universe except for a familial one with his brother.

Rus:

- Stoner vibes, but he's not really a stoner lmao.

- He's very relaxed and usually likes to lay down, staring off into nothing.

- The reason why he's so quiet is because he's usually thinking about a lot of things, it's how he expresses himself.

- Likes to call himself an e-boy for the memes. Has the potential for it, though.

- He also likes to go out a lot, doesn't matter for what, he just likes being outside.

- He's less of an ass than Stretch is, but that doesn't mean he won't bully you.

Wine:

- The flirtiest and the smoothest of them all.

- Also probably has an ego that could rival Edge's.

- He has a lot of hobbies as he loves to throw himself into a lot of work only to go on a long, self indulgent break.

- He plays a father figure to all of them and has schedules set for all of them, he is the only one who can wake them up without getting yelled at.. Sometimes.

- He loves to have many talents and will constantly improve on himself.

- What do you mean he's passive aggressive? He's just being honest.

- He is the wisest of them though, and knows how to handle almost every situation perfectly.

- He misuses memes to mess with the others. Truth is, he knows that they are, he just likes embarrassing the boys.

- Also will call them his kids to really mess with them.

Coffee:

- He's quiet, and his facial expression does give off a vibe You'd expect someone like Rus or Black to have.

- It's easy to get him to break out of his shell though, but he's the least emotional of the bunch, so his reactions aren't always going to be what you want.

- He knows he looks innocent, and uses it. More for the fact that he can ask people to give him an offer on this drink or whatever, and they'd do it.

- He loves his games, an absolute gamer god omg.

- He's very impatient and gets pouty sometimes just to really annoy the others as well.

- He also likes making stuff and will gift them to people he cares about, it's all usually woodwork tho.

Thistle:

- He's very soft-spoken, but he can be rather cheeky when he wants to be.

- He's very protective of his brother and it takes time to even have him refer to you as a friend.

- He still retains that laid back attitude that Sans normally has, but Thistle is much, much more observant of all that happens around him.

- He's very generous to those that he cares about, and only those that are close to him.

- He's also a big cat to those that are close to him, usually hanging onto them as they struggle to carry him around, low runbles or laughter leaving him.

- He doesn't really like dark humor after reaching the surface, noticing how some people use it for the wrong reasons. He's more into cheesy puns and lighthearted jokes.

- He likes to tease and have fun, friendly banter every now and then. He finds it a nice break from the stress!

- He loves visually stimulating things, especially the cooking process, there's something about it that just puts his mind at ease.

Chestnut:

- He's very anxious about a lot of things, especially if people look at him for little too long. He's aware why, and he hates it.

- Though, he has been a bit more forgiving to himself, learning to be subtle with his insults.. .well, subtle is a bit of a generous word but stars, his insults can leave you stunned.

- He's very independent, and likes to do things by himself. It fills him with a sense of accomplishment as he does something.

- Chestnut is a no nonsense skeleton. He relies on communication and isn't as forgiving as he seems.

- He's not an ass, but he has no tolerance for people who take advantage of others or hurt others for no reason.

- He's a very tender skeleton, too. He loves to have walks during the autumn season and take photographs of the beautiful scenery. He takes lessons with Rus.

- After all that he's been through, it's kind of hard for him to get attached easily as well, as he's more focused on his needs and well-being first.

[matchasprouts]

The Walls - Chapter 3

[ couldn't write for a while but [ hands you a glimpse into Felix's gay brain ] come and get your juice ]

First || Next || Previous || Last

It took a while after getting upstairs for Felix to grab everything he needed (literally just the clothes he was going to change into, he was just easily distracted), but finally he was in the bathroom.

He didn’t shower in the mansion bathroom very often, since he lived in the cabin on the property, so he was immediately worried about the thing in the walls.

Well, it wouldn’t hurt to check.

Slowly, he made his way over to the most uncluttered wall that would have the crawl space attached to it. He knew it wasn’t omniscient, so if it were far enough away, it wouldn’t hear him. Hopefully it would be attached enough to Greta that it would be downstairs.

He paused for a moment, let out a breath, and lightly knocked three times on the wall. Three knocks was a greeting, or a goodbye between them. The thing usually only took a few seconds to respond.

…

Silence. Felix let out a sigh of relief, making his way over to the shower and turning it on. It was an old shower, but comfortable. He really did enjoy any chance he could use it without worry.

After a few seconds of making sure the water was at the right temperature, he started getting undressed. The overalls were off first, followed by the sweater he wore in the colder seasons. And then there was his binder.

He used to struggle a lot more with taking it off when he first started wearing it, but now he pulled it over his head without a fight. He draped it over the sink, away from his dirtied clothes, since he only really washed it when he absolutely needed to.

The water was almost scalding when Felix stepped into it, but that was on purpose. He’d basically shot his nerves when it came to hot water, barely feeling it if it wasn’t hot enough to leave marks on his skin.

He’d been told multiple times to go to therapy because of this. He assumed his nerves were so fucked because of the arson. Who fucking knows, he refused to go to a doctor.

The shower didn’t last very long, Felix just took as long as he needed to get the dirt off him and be done. The longest part was his hair, and he honestly wasn’t sure if he’d even gotten all the soap out of his hair by the time he stepped out of the shower.

It was while he was drying off his hair that he noticed the change in the room. Next to the t-shirt and sweatpants he’d laid out to change into sat a dark green, and very large, cardigan.

Felix knew for a damn fact that he hadn’t put that there. He didn’t even own cardigans- just an assload of sweaters. So where did this come from? It was too large to belong to Greta, too tattered too.

After a few seconds, it clicked. It belonged to the thing in the walls. The thing that always heard him complaining about the cold, or how it was hard to hide when he wasn’t wearing a binder.

And, it seemed, it finally did something about it.

Theoretically, he enjoyed the gesture. He was definitely going to wear it, the warmth was worth it, but still… this meant that it had come in while he was showering, and he hadn’t heard it. That didn’t imply good things.

He got dressed quickly, pausing before pulling on the cardigan. It was huge on him, even though he was average height and pretty well built. It smelled like wood, and smoke. It was… incredibly comfortable too.

After quickly glancing in the mirror, the green of the cardigan making the green of his eyes really pop. It probably helped that he was extra pale from the blast of hot water, bringing his freckles out as well.

He didn’t look too long. Felix didn’t like his face, and staring at it would make him shut down.

---

Greta had already started on dinner when he made it to the kitchen, and he was pleased to find Brahms sitting at the kitchen table.

“Hey. Sorry if you’ve been waiting long,” he said, rolling up the cardigan sleeves and jumping right into helping. She was making a soup apparently, probably because they didn’t have much at the moment. Malcolm was supposed to deliver some groceries tomorrow.

“Don’t worry about it,” Greta replied, handing him a knife and some vegetables to cut. He didn’t hesitate before getting into it, making quick work of them. “I hope soup is okay. We really need groceries.”

Felix hummed in response, keeping most of his focus on what he was doing. “Soup is always good, I’m just glad we could make something at all.”

Silence fell after that. They weren’t friends, they really didn’t have all that much to talk about. So they worked. At least it made the cooking go faster.

---

“So, where’d this come from?” Greta asked after they were finished and sitting down to eat, gesturing to the cardigan. He was surprised she could tell that it wasn’t his, especially because she knew next to nothing about him. Maybe it was because it was so big, or because of it being a dark colour.

Felix shrugged at the question, not willing to scare her off when Brahms clearly liked her. “It just kind of showed up. I’ve probably had it for years without realizing it. I can be forgetful like that sometimes.” No, he couldn’t. Distractible? Sure. Forgetful? Unfortunately, his memory was near photographic.

But Greta accepted it without question, just like he thought she would. It seemed like she was doing everything she possibly could to not question anything about this house. He vaguely wondered if she had seen Brahms move yet, but he doubted it.

When they were finished, it was Brahms’s bedtime. After making Greta promise she would follow the bedtime rules properly, he let her go to put the doll to bed, cleaning up the kitchen for her.

He heard rustling in the walls as Greta headed upstairs and smiled slightly to himself, knowing that the wall thing was making sure that she followed the rules.

The thought made him pull the cardigan tighter against himself, surprised at his own fondness toward the thing. Six years was a long time to grow attached to something, and he was honestly fine with being attached to it. After all, he never truly interacted with it. It probably wouldn’t hurt him.

Probably.

He shook those thoughts away, finished cleaning, and headed upstairs for bed. Greta’s door was already closed, Brahms was in bed, and the walls were quiet. Felix inspected his temporary bedroom once arriving at it, only laying down when he was satisfied that it was empty.

For once, sleep came easy.

---

The next morning, Felix woke up before Greta, and about an hour before Brahms needed to be woken up. Happy for the chance to get something done without Greta in the way, or needing to look out for Brahms, he wasted no time in getting up and dressed. He laid the cardigan out neatly on his bed for the thing to take back, making sure to close the door when he left the room.

Once downstairs he did some cleaning to take a bit of the workload off of Greta. Before heading out to do his gardening, he paused, glancing around the kitchen. They really needed that grocery delivery today, but he figured he could make breakfast before becoming the garden cryptid again.

So, he made something simple and wouldn’t need to be warm, put it in the fridge, and left a note for Greta. Once satisfied, he grabbed his gloves and headed outside. He’d probably come back in when Malcolm got there, just because there was something he’d need for later that he needed to ask him to grab.

It was time for Brahms to be woken up by the time Felix had started his gardening, a small smile crossing his lips when he looked up at the window and saw the light click on, followed by Greta opening up the curtains.

Well, maybe she was finally taking him seriously. He hoped so. He would sure hate to hate someone like her. She was nice and all, and really the only off thing that she’d done so far was not take care of Brahms right.

How unfortunate that that would change.

Felix happened to walk in during a conversation between Greta and Malcolm, relieved he hadn’t missed the man. He only caught part of the conversation, something about going out tonight. He didn’t hear Greta’s response, so he wasn’t annoyed yet, but it was getting there.

“Hey Malcolm,” he said as he grabbed a bottle of water, taking a sip before continuing, “could you grab something for me next time you go out? Nothing time sensitive or anything, it would just make my life a little easier.

Malcolm, sensing the change in conversation, replied without hesitation. “Sure man, what do you need?”

“A new pair of garden gloves, mine are falling apart. I’d get them myself but I don’t have a car and you know I don’t like leaving the grounds.” Felix was a little surprised when Malcolm nodded and wrote it down, but relieved. He really did need those gloves.

“I can grab ‘em for you today, I’ll be coming back tonight anyway,” Malcolm said as he tucked the small notepad back into his jacket. Felix immediately narrowed his eyes at him, his expression asking the “why” that he didn’t vocalize.

That’s when Greta cleared her throat and stepped in. “Malcolm offered to take me out to see the town tonight, and I accepted,” she explained, cringing at the harsh glare Felix sent her way. Before he could say anything, she continued, “Brahms will already be in bed by the time I leave! So there’s nothing to worry about.”

Nothing to worry about? She was breaking the rules! And it would know!! It was significantly more dangerous than Felix was!!!

He let out a sigh that bordered dangerously on a growl, before running a hand through his short hair and deciding that this was a battle he shouldn’t fight. “Whatever. Don’t say shit to me when something bad happens because you chose to break the rules.”

“Oh, come on man, she shouldn’t be cooped up in here-” Malcolm tried to step in, only to be cut off by Felix’s shears hitting the table hard enough that it shook.

“Don’t try to tell me what should or should not be happening here!” he snapped, the rage bubbling over before he could stop it. It was his fatal flaw- shortest temper in the Shaw family. “All I know is that she’s breaking the damn rules, and we’re all gonna get hell because of it!”

He hated arguing. He did. So, with that, before they could continue, he stormed off. Before he knew it, he had slammed his bedroom door and fallen heavily onto his bed. It took a godly amount of self control to not break anything, but he managed.

This was slowly but surely turning into a fucking nightmare.

[zuffer-weird-girl]

Overhaul / Chisaki Kai sfw alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Yeah... not very as you all may have expected. Chisaki is very reserved and his mysophobia doesn't help at all. Although, years of not touching nobody can do so much to a person and he MIGHT be willing to touch you after a few months... maybe years.

At the first few times he will only show his affection by giving you things. That's it.

But well, the wait is worth it. Chisaki is a gentleman by nature. Kisses on the hand whenever you pass by, forcing/invinting you to sit on his lap.

His forms of affection are from actions, not from words. He sucks with words, Im sorry.

B = Beginning (How would the relationship start?)

Something tells me that Chisaki would start a relationship only when the person gives him some type of interest. Personality, knowledge.... QUIRKLESS.

Really, he does care more about how intellugent or what they could be to him as a partner, appearance comes just as a bonus to him.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

AHA!

Jokes apart, Chisaki is just as a stone when cuddling... if he is willing to honestly because this man is such a tsundere brat it huRTS-

He would slowly learn how to do it, but please give him time and espace, he never done this before God help him.

He is much more comfortable with you laying on his chest as he continues on with his paperwork, it gives hkm a sense that he is not alone and that he can spend time with you while doing something so tedious as paperwork.

BUT! On harsh days, as example got into a argument with pops or a bad day in general, he likes to lay his head on your lap and just forget the world exists as hugging you close and inhaling your clean scent.

Also well, enjoy when he is sleepy.

Also, cuddling only after a shower. No buts.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Well, he does want to settle down but as long as he can continue gis work on the Hassaikai then its nore than fine to him (if we're talking about after the raid THEN HE NEEDS TO SETTLE DOWN AND SOME THERAPY)

Cleaning master. Sucks at cooking.

Okay, he is not that bad he can make a toast, but he just really doesn't like to do it, since is just so messy. Really enjoys your cooking though if you know how to...

If not his poor childhood friend will become the chef of you two. Seriously Hari need a break-

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Fuck. If HE had to break up he would be straight to the point. Cold and uncaring. Not even the whole "is not you, its me" no no. Chisaki will make sure to tell that he is breaking up because of you and thats final, being on his good intentions or not.

Kai would break up with his partner if they did something like cheat on him or something... and he is from the mafia you rreally want to take the risk?!

Or he would break up due to his fear of you getting hurt. But this will only happen when his paranoia would take over him.

He doesn't want to lose you soon, affirmative.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He feels unnecessary before he mets someone he feels really in love with. He doesn't believed in love when younger so its a tragic change.

And no. Chisaki wants to make sure he knows the person very well before he goes to get down on one knee for them. And surprisingly, if he feels like he is safe and can be vulnetable around his partner? Then he is on the cloud nine internally.

Only time will tell when you can get engaged with this plague man.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

TSUNDERE BASTARD-

Is that enough? No? Ok.

He is always scoffing and rolling his eyes when you are affectionate with him but ny god dont stop or else he will discount his rage and frustation on poor Rappa.

Although, when he gets a bit drunk or just overworked he is so gentle. Like, sweet words and all, it even shocks you sometimesm

For him, you are the light of his dark life, his angel. So he doesn't mind speaking behind closed doors on how much he loves you and cherish you being here with him. Likes to carres your cheeks with the back of his gloved hand or plant sweet kisses on your forehead, hands and most of all: lips.

Appreaciate it because his behaviour can change on how you take his words.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Nope. Only when he feels the urge to it, when he is tired or when you are down.

He is not much of a hugger. But is willing to give some to you since... you're special to him.

Although Chisaki hugs are like 👌😤. His arms caging you to gis chest and how warm it feels its just heavenly. He hugs you close and likes to give you little squezze that does not hurt to make you sure he is not letting go for a while.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Long. Long time until he says this.

Saying those three words means to him only one thing: vulnerability.

Its going to take a lot of time for Kai to let out those words, mostly sure that his partner will be the one to say it first, but Kai would jjst stay there and not reply.

One: embarrassed as heck; Two: he is sure that he loves you back but... he needs time.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He is more overprotective than jealous. Yet he does feel it. A lot.

He doesn't trust OTHERS, he knows you love him. But the world around him failed so many times when he was young that this man has doubts even on his most considerate coomurate. He fears that they might take advantege of you.

A tiny part of him fears that you will leave him because he is not the mostproper partner, but his pride takes over that very easily.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Soft, passionate and hot.

As spoken before Kai loves to kiss your hand, forehead, cheeks and lips. Those are the cleanest and softest places he found to make you embarrassed and all soft.

He isn't much to being kissed... but he does love it when he is there working and then you rub his shoulder a bit before kissing his temple than pecking his lips softly.

Leaves him a blushing mess all the time.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

*laughs* ERI-CHAN-!

I have a few scenatios of him actually being a good dad so... I will just skip this one and let you all see it for yourselfs.

Although, one word. Strict dad. You guessed right.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

My HEART THEY ARE THE BEST

Especially when he doesn't go to work because its only there that you can see his resting face on the pillows. Usually when he goes to work he gets up, dress himself and carres your check softly before leaving a kiss on your temple and leaving.

When he is free you're trapped. Cant get out of the bed until he does.

Sweet scraches and petting coming from him. TAKE THOSE.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Soft. Watching him, tired as always getting out of his clothes to put his nightwear. If neither of you feel like crashing down onto the dreamland, Chisaki will pick one book you may like, let you rest your head on his chest, shoulder or lap as he reads it out loud while scracthing your head.

If he is on the mood he might even sing you a lullaby... only if you're feeling down though.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

After a very long time on the relationship.

If he does have a mentalbreakfown he is blurting everything out like he is about to die and just needs to tell you everything. Although it would be almost impossible.

I feel like Chisaki would slowly reveal things of himself to you. Is the most like to happen.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Easy peasy little squeaky.

This man gets angry easily but he does know how to control himself over this situations... although when he loses his patience he does get pissed off (we saw him already guys with pops and the heroes)

In discussions he woudl rather distance himself then to just shout at you though.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

STALKER

He knows everything and more about you. Every little detail he will remember

Seriously, he might still have that annoyed face of his when you're talming but he is listening and paying attention.

Might as well surprise you with your favorite sweets or flowers.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

First kiss.

He never kissed someone besides you so all the memroy is very well guarded on his mind and he does cherish it everyday.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Overprotective. Will kill for you, overhaul and then kill again for you.

Chisaki is powerful, not only by his quirk but his status as well so only one look of his is enough to scare the others away.

Or his threatenings like... slipping his glove out and showing his victim his bare hand as a signal to not speak or dont come any closer unless they want to die.

Will fell weirded out if you protect him since like... he is a boss of the mafia? He doesn't need protection? He is your knight in shinning armor not the other way around.

... although it makes him a bit embarrassed.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

So much money that the Hassaimai is stealing from other gangs because of this asshole expending shit tones of moneh in your guys dates.

Everything you once thought or mentiomed for him is there. He is not afraid to spend money when it comes to you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Brush off something that its important to you bit seems unimportant for him.

Gets rude sometimes.

Always demanding on cleaning duty.

Wanting to keep his personal espace due to his mysophobia.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks? Do your looks bother them?)

Not much. He only gives care to his cleaning habbits and his smell. Definitely not because you find his scent amusing and devine. Nope. Definitely not.

He doesn't care about looks. Really, do not give a shit. Is just a bonus to him. You're divine and angelic to him.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Many thumbs up.

He feels extra annoyed and bothered when you're not around. Pls stay with this plague man.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Cant sleep without you on his side. Really, he just cant. He tried many times already but just ended up scoffing and going after you just because he needed to sleep says him.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He calls you brat as a affectionate nickname but seriously, he doesn't want a child as his partner, so dont be too childish. It irritates him a lot.

BEING ORGANIZED IS NOT A OPTION IS A MUST. or else it will feel like he is more occupied scolding you then loving you for that matter.

Hates. HATES. when his plans doesn't work well and when suddenly you cancel a date of you two or any plans in general.

Hates.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs? Does it change around a partner?)

Cling to you for dear life when he gets comfortable with you. And I would suggest you to stay awake for a bit longer than him since he mumbles in his sleep.

Might be nightmares of rombas chasing him with knifes or words of how much he truly loves you? You might as well find out.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Confusion for the one word prompt!

CW: Some inadvertent, non-hostile ableism

Ronnie’s got her pen in her mouth, chewing idly on the cap, sitting on a little bench in the ‘storytime’ section of the bookstore while she flips through a magazine full of recipes, discarding this one or that one as she makes her grocery lis for next week.

Tris isn’t the pickiest eater as long as the food isn’t “mixed up” - she cooks all the pieces separately, puts them on a plate, and then mixes them up for she and Paul afterward. It’s just that Paul has always had a weirdly specific taste in food, and it’s easy to narrow down what she can make and can’t if she wants her husband to eat, too.

Not that he wouldn’t happily make himself dinner separately, he’s a grown-ass man, but she still tries to make things that include him.

Nearby, seven-year-old Tris sits on the rough carpeting, humming to himself as he carefully lines up a series of books that, as far as she can tell, are about cats. She has no idea what he is using as a criteria for which books go where - clearly he’s not what number in the series they actually represent, she can see from here that they’re lined up all out of order - but he is deeply and seriously involved in his work, and his humming is soft-pitched, low and quiet. 

“You good, Tris?” Ronnie asks, writing the word ‘apples’ down on her grocery list. 

“Mmmn, mmmmn, mmmmn,” He says, and she decides to take that as a ‘yes’ and goes back to looking at the apple crumble recipe. 

He’s been wearing that dinosaur shirt for four days, but he agreed this morning to put something else on his afternoon, if she would wash it so he can wear it clean tomorrow again. At least he agrees to clean underwear and pants, right? She has friends in her parents-group whose kids are Tristan’s age and still can’t dress themselves. Or maybe they just feel better without the weight and scratch of clothes on their skin.

Sometimes, she thinks she should really just buy seven sets of the same damn shirt, and let Tristan be happy.

That morning he had climbed into bed with she and Paul, snuggling up under her chin, and hummed and tapped and hummed and tapped in happiness until Ronnie had pulled him up and half-carried him out, just to let her poor husband get a few hours of sleep after work. 

He’ll go to daytime work hours soon, he promises, and Ronnie can’t fucking wait until she can stop trying to keep her son silent while his father sleeps, because that’s one particular mountain she is fucking tired of climbing.

Rather than deal with it today, she took Tris to the bookstore, and Tristan is safely ensconced in a routine he loves - bookstore at 9 AM when they open the doors, Mommy gets her breakfast and coffee and Tris gets to pick a snack and the chocolate milk in the red box with a cow on the front, stay through storytime at 11:30, and then get a chicken nugget happy meal with ranch dressing for dipping on the way home. 

Every bookstore day is the same. He wraps himself in the schedule like it’s a warm blanket, and Ronnie can’t say she doesn’t love mornings out with him when he’s not overwhelmed. 

When he pulls down the books and lines them up, or stacks them, or just holds four or five while looking at them. Her favorite days are when he brings them to her and explains, in his halting, soft stammer, every single goddamn detail of what happens. She sets her expression to fascination and listens and thinks that there was a time, before gymnastics and therapy and IEPs and everything she’s fought for, where she worried that she would lose her son to his own mind, that he would stop coming out of it to find her.

“Mommy, that weird boy is making a funny noise,” A high-pitched voice says, and Ronnie glances up from her grocery list to see a harried woman with ash-blonde hair, carrying a pink backpack with a unicorn on it over one arm, a little girl with blonde hair on one side and a toddler with red hair on the other. The woman’s eyes meet Ronnie’s, briefly, and Ronnie sets her jaw, ready for the fight.

Tristan doesn’t seem to even hear them. If he does, he doesn’t care. He goes on smiling, picking between two books with a deep seriousness, before choosing one to set down. He never cares what anyone says who isn’t one of his gymnastics friends, who take him as he is. It’s Ronnie who always feels the need to defend his brain. Tris just goes on living.

“Mommy, why is that boy-”

“Ssshhhh, that’s very rude to talk about people,” The woman says, looking away from her then, and Ronnie’s fingers tighten around her pen, digging a black dot into the paper until she’s worried she’ll tear it. 

She knows what comes next. People like that, kids like him, she’s heard it all, more of it from Tristan’s own teachers than she’d ever admit to him. Not that he would care, really.

There’s a moment where she opens her mouth, ready to say something, to build the wall around Tristan as she has always done, when the woman adds, “He’s just enjoying himself, honey. Some kids make sounds when they’re happy, just like when you sing at home and in the car, right? He’s just in a good mood. He’s just singing here, instead.”

Ronnie stares at her. She didn’t expect that. Her mouth stays open, the sharper words still harsh on her tongue, unspoken.

“Oh.” The girl thinks it over. She’s blonde, too, and looks just like the woman. She wears a white shirt with a unicorn made out of glitter on the front and pink leggings, plus pink shoes. Ronnie wonders, for just a second, what it might have been like to have a second child, a girl, to buy those kinds of things for.

Not that Tristan didn’t love glitter, too, to be honest. Honestly he probably wouldn’t mind pink, either, as long as it had a fucking velociraptor on it. No, wait, the big ones weren’t really velociraptors, Tris and Paul said that was some other one... Having your son and husband care so much about dinosaurs is sort of exhausting.

She should see if there were pink glitter dinosaur shirts... he might like those.

“Hey.” The girl marches over to Tristan, and he looks up after a second, as if broken out of his internal spell, looking at her. The last hum dies on his lips. The woman and Ronnie both redden, neither looking at the other. “Hey, kid.”

Tristan looks at her, blinking. Then he holds out the last book, in his hands. “Dark River,” He says, simply. 

The girl looks down, looking at the painting of a cat on the cover, and then nods, solemnly. “I read that one,” She says, head tilted. “It’s good.”

Tristan nods, and lays the book down with all the others. 

“Why are you doing that?” The girl asks, and Ronnie tenses again.

“I, I, I want to,” Tristan says without looking up.

“Huh.” The girl pauses, for a second, and then says, “I like to make my books like that, too.” Then she turns and walks away, and her mother takes the toddler by the hand and follows.

Ronnie hears the girl’s mother say, “Wait, that’s why you always make a mess with your books?”

Ronnie watches them go, staring, wondering what she just witnessed. If it means something, if it means nothing, if it means the woman will get her daughter evaluated, if if if if.

“Done,” Tristan says, breaking her out of her stupor. She watches him rearrange the books back into the order they were originally shelved in and place them carefully back. “Better, better now.”

Better than what? Her son is a mystery, and she safeguards him like a dragon guarding treasure it cannot understand but knows it would give its life for.

He looks at her, still comically solemn. “Snack?”

“Uh... yeah,” Ronnie says, voice slightly raspy. “Yeah, baby. Snacktime.”

“Story, storytime after?”

“Yep, we have...” Ronnie checks her phone. “Twenty minutes until storytime, so that’s perfect.”

Tristan smiles in her general direction and waits as Ronnie gathers her things back up. He doesn’t look back at the girl as he leaves the kids’ section and heads for the front, where the café is. 

Ronnie wonders if the girl looks back at him. 

[ihavenocluedude]

Destruction of clothes

Agent Whiskey x Female!Reader

A/N: I finally finished it! Look between like insecurities of publishing smut for the first time as well as insecurities about writing it for the first time for a while (I tried once a few years ago to write it, I’m pretty sure I deleted the things from my google docs just a short time afterwards). But I really hope it’s good, I think it is?? 

Summary: You would never really confess to finding Jack 'Whiskey' 'cowboy douchebag' Daniels attractive, well that was until he helped you after a mission injury, starting to care for him and starting to not call him a douchebag, bitch or anything like that. And after that it was just a slippery slope to 'attacking' him on the jet after a mission. With both the mission injury and with the 'attack' there was two types of very different and light destruction of clothing.

Word count: 2 571

Ko-Fi 

Link to reading it on AO3 

Warnings: Smut, hair pulling, fingering, curse words so often you wouldn’t believe, fingering,Vaginal sex, like a second of a handjob tbh, also reader isn’t a total sub but neither is Jack. 

“Don’t you dare touch me!” You held your injured leg away from him, hissing your words in pain, you had worked with Whiskey for years now but it’s not like there’s any trust between the two of you. After all seeing him in the cocky cowboy mood all the time wasn’t really a stable ground for becoming friends. “Look I’ll just call for Ginger or something, go- Agh- go finish the fucking mission!”

“The mission can wait, your leg can’t. Can you just- Just let me help you dangit!” Of course he wasn’t sincere or careful with the situation but rather abrupt and demanding. As always.

“Fuck off Whiskey” You punctuaded your words with harsh breaths as you started to take off the flannel shirt you’d kept around your waist. The mission had for once let you be casually dressed, as tourists. Which was perfect considering the current situation. Ripping the flannel apart with shaky hands, wrapping the piece of fabric tightly above the bullet wound in your thigh. Well ‘thank fuck’ it wasn’t just that injury too, thank fuck to the scumbags that led you into the forrest. Not only had they put a bullet in your thigh but they’d also made you dislocate your knee when you fell. Wonderful.

“Go finish the fucking mission, I’ll still be here when you come back. Worst- worst case scenario I’ll call for backup to come save m-”

“Maybe you didn’t notice sweetheart, but you can’t really reach Ginger or backup out here, can you hear Ginger right now? Because I don’t. That bullet wound alone is an injury that needs to be treated now, I’m bringing you to the jet.”

“I hope you know that I hate you.” You muttered as he walked closer to you. Whiskey had done the mistake of trying to fight you once, whilst training of course. And while the man is good at fighting and he has his god damn whip and lasso, you were quicker. Did you truly hate the man though? No not really. However denial was always the biggest part in your co-workership “no you don’t find him attractive, no the things he does with his whip and lasso aren’t sexy, no you’re not falling for a man with a god damn cowboy hat”. But when it came down to the truth, yes you were attracted to a cocky man with a cowboy hat and a lasso.

Getting back to the jet? Easier said than done. Whiskey had slowly walked up to you until you told him to ‘hurry the fuck up’. You let him carry you like you were a sack of potatoes and you honestly felt bad for him.

Carrying someone for an extended amount of time = not easy.

“Are we there yet y’ think?” You were almost becoming bored, the pain of your left leg of course always there. But it’s not like you haven’t been shot before. You had sort of learned how to ignore it, sure it wasn’t foolproof and sometimes you just can’t ignore it. But at the moment all your attention was directed at the man carrying you. His eyes were always so dark, his nose was unique and just so beautiful in side profile. You tried looking away but what the hell were you supposed to look at? The trees? The sky? Why not just appreciate that you could maybe stare at Whiskey without as much suspicion than usual.

“Soon.” He muttered out, carrying a person isn’t easy and you did offer to walk when he had been carrying you for a while. But he refused… So here you were, still in his arms.

--- — —

When you did get back to the jet there was no time to waste really, Whiskey did what he could and that was that for now. Whiske-Jack had for the first time told you to call him Jack during his little examination of your leg. Sure it may be because you were calling him a bitch rather than calling him Whiskey, but still, you take your invitation when you can.

Not being able to see Jack flying the plane was a disappointment. He was always so focused, so in the zone and… unfortunately, he looked extremely hot while doing it. He was in control.  His moments in the pilot seat were the only moments you’d maybe admit to yourself that you were very very attracted to him. But at this moment you couldn’t see his tongue dart out to wet his lips absentmindedly, or see his eyes relaxing and narrowing every once in a while, no instead boredom was flooding your brain. Staring at the ceiling, laying on the small couch with your leg resting, tilted upwards.

— — —

As you got better from your injuries, he stuck around you. Every god damn step of the way. You had tried pushing him away, didn’t work, you tried to talk seriously to him, telling him to ‘stop pretending to care’ to which he replied: “Sweetheart I ain’t pretending”. It was upsetting, irritating and also just heartmelting. And during all of this, he was starting to open up, talking about his life before The Statesman agency, about his wife’s death and the therapy The Statesman agency had offered.

He started coming to the little medical bay of the headquarters to eat his lunch by your side, talking about what you like to do within your very little free time. Once in a while there’d be a ‘deep‘ moment, a moment where the two of you had actually shared parts of yourself no one knew about, it made your blood turn to ice. Were you really letting him get to know you? Was he just trying to gain your trust only to let you down?

Jack was after all one of those agents who’d risk anything to get the job done, on his own terms of course. But still he would do anything so what if gaining your trust, what if it was all just some ploy?

— — —

The day it all snapped, the moment where the relationship between the two of you changed forever, was the same day as a small mission. Nothing extreme, just you and Jack. During the flight to the mission you sat there in the co-pilot seat, practically staring at him. This time you did get to see his tongue dart out to wet his lips absentmindedly and his eyes relaxing and narrowing every once in a while. Jack however knew you were watching, of course he knew.

“Y’good over there darlin’?” He smirked, it wasn’t the first time he had called you a nickname but each time it made a shiver run down your spine. A small nod and your eyes darting away as an answer was all Jack got for now. You hadn’t intended to stare so heavily, but what can he expect, sitting there looking like that. He was a true distraction, which is why missions with him nowadays could become so… frustrating.

Trying to seduce some high-powered man during his gala was way harder when you heard whispered encouragements from Jack through your comms. Pure distraction. It was like he was doing it on purpose, whispering ‘good girl‘ when getting good information… Not fair.

During the mission he of course repeated this new habit of his, whispered encouragements, accompanied by nicknames that he knew affected you. So when you had finished talking to Ginger for the night, turning off your comms, that’s when you ‘attacked’, pushing him back against one of the interior walls of the jet. Your lips lingering just a small distance from his but not giving him the satisfaction.

“You do that on purpose, don’t you?” Your voice was determined but it sounded more airy than you had thought it would. Jack didn’t even seem surprised by this sudden ‘attack’, a smirk sitting confidently on his face.

“So what if I did darlin’?” Jack winks before placing his hands on either side of your upper neck, pulling your lips to his. Thankful that it all had just finally snapped together, you moved quickly. Taking his tie in your hand before tugging him over to the rather small couch in the jet. It wasn’t even a question of convincing him to sit down, but rather him crashing down himself, making sure to grab your legs so you’d land on top of him already, your free hand going to his shoulder.

“Then will you just take me already?” Your answer was of course rather delayed as your mouth had been occupied with his for the most of the time. His right hand’s fingers seemed at home in your hair but he did seem rather cautious about it. Well at least until you put your hand over his fingers, tightening the grip on your hair, lightly adjusting his hand to pull on it slightly, an airy moan emerging from you, showing your approval. “Perfect. Just like that baby.”

“Shit darlin’, you’re going to be the death of me.” His voice was practically a whisper as he stroked your thigh gently, leading his hand further and further towards your inner thigh. Silently thanking Peggy the fashion advisor who works for the firm for the fancy underwear you ‘had’ to wear for the mission. Even if she was annoying, some times… She came in handy.

One hand on his neck, wanting to grasp his hair harsh in your clutches, the other hand sitting on his shoulder, making sure his chest was now pushed up against yours. “Make me yours.” It wasn’t even a question as it came out of your lips, bringing out a groan from Jack. His finger finally really taking action and moving them slightly quicker to your core. Teasing a finger over the slit on top of the fancy and now soaked underwear, his smirk was almost more teasing than his fingers, that were now applying some more pressure. Your hips started moving automatically against his fingers.

“How long Jack?”

“How long what?”

“How long have you thought about me like this, on top of you, gripping your shoulder. How long baby?” Your words were more demanding than you had thought they’d be. The hand on his chest slid down to the bulge in his pants, lightly tracing it. Jack was a demanding man, he was usually the one in control, now there was becoming a balance. The sounds spewing out of his mouth was just egging you on, however you made sure to shut him up with your mouth. While his fingers slid the fancy underwear to the side, lightly circling your clit with his thumb and with his other fingers teasing where he soon would enter.

“Way too long Princess.” He grumbled against your lips as they parted, a gasp rising out of your mouth as he slowly eased a finger inside of you. It had been… a while. However the reactiveness Jack was getting out of you just made him want to hear more of the small gasps, the sound of his name, ‘Jack‘s slipping out every once in a while and the moans that were almost fighting their way out of you. The want to pleasure Jack as much as he was pleasuring you made you take off his belt, open his pants and take his dick out. Swiping your thumb over the tip before starting to move your hand slowly.

It didn’t take long at all for him to be able to sink another finger in you, going slightly quicker, your legs quivering at the pleasure. Not being able to completely focus on the moving of your hands, Jack took this moment of ‘weakness’ to slowly move the two of you to laying down on the jet’s couch instead of straddling. Taking a second just to look at you, starting to up his pace again after slowing down to be able to move you,

“This is art darlin’, you are art.” He growled as he started moving his mouth down to your collarbone, leaving a few small kisses every where; on your jawline, on your throat, slightly below your ear, and finally sucking onto your skin where your throat and chest met. Your hands resting and gripping his shoulders.

“Would you just hurry the fuck up- Shit Jack!” Slowly muttering out curse words as he focused his fingers on and around your clit instead, . However that wasn’t what you wanted, trying to sit up slightly or trying to pry his pants off with your legs and feet. “Get these off, now”

“Would you just relax?” He muttered back before slipping his fingers away from you, the cold air in the jet finally really hitting it as he dragged the panties off whilst backing off and dragging off his own pants as well. “Are you sure-”

“Yes.”

“Princess, do you have any-”

“-No but I’m protected.” You didn’t want to wait for him to finish his sentences, even if him saying ‘princess’ sounded heavenly. Finally the pressure of him grinded against you, before finally entering slowly. Jack had noticed the pressure around his fingers earlier, noting that it had been a while so as to go easy and slowly. Until you for probably the hundreth time in your life told him to hurry the fuck up. Like you had done on countless missions before and would do on countless missions ahead.

“Fu-uck.” He almost stuttered when he did finally slide all the way in, already applying a pressure to your clit with one of his hands as he knew he wouldn’t last that long. It had been a while for him too. Putting his other hand next to your head for stability as he started thrusting. Him feeling the tightness of you  and you feeling the fullness of him. Moans, groans and curse words were filling the jet quickly, Jack upping the speed of his thrusts, you clenching around him as you were starting to near your climax.

Finally reaching one of your hands to his hair, yanking his mouth down to yours to swallow his moans and for him to swallow yours as you climaxed. Putting a bit more pressure on your clit to make the feeling linger slightly longer, before he slid away his hand, not wanting to hurt you and instead grabbing the edge of the couch as hard as he could before speeding up his pace and finally reaching the edge you’d just been at and falling over it. His lips parting away from yours to instead suck at the skin of your shoulder, lightly digging in his teeth into the flesh.

“Well fuck, y’know Peggy’s going to be pissed at you.” You mentioned the fashion advisor as your breath finally calmed down a few minutes later, your brain no longer in the haze of Jack and realizing the small mistake you hadn't noticed earlier. 

“Hmm?” He hummed contently, resting his head on one of your shoulders, lying by your side, tracing shapes onto your other arm as he was almost on the brink of falling asleep.

“We never took off the dress, it’s expensive Jack.” You chuckled, Jack just shaking his head, about to slowly rise away from you before he felt your hands pressing against his back, pushing him back against your chest. Your voice lovingly explaining why a second later; “It’s already messy and… well sort of trashed baby, so don’t you dare leave me yet.”

A/N - It’s done! It’s finally done! Sorry for the really long wait, as I’ve mentioned this thing several times before. Hope it actually was like good quality as well. It definitely wasn’t rushed as you guys who’s seen the earlier posts know. Now Imma sleep, then tomorrow I’ll probably post part 5 of the Scotty x OFC ;) 

I will always love feedback so don’t ever be afraid to comment something or send me an ask, message or whatever. 

[terreisa]

Love Down the Line

The last thing Indie musician Emma Swan needs is a gigantic wrench thrown in the workings of her biggest tour to date weeks before its launch.  When her backing guitarist that caused the problem says she has the perfect solution Emma is skeptical but left with little choice but to accept.  Unfortunately she isn't really prepared for said solution to be former Rock Star and leading man of Emma's teenage fantasies, Killian Jones.  With no other options and a month of performing across the country ahead of her Emma just hopes she doesn't come to regret letting Killian onto her stage and into her life.

AO3

~*CS*~

Storybrooke, Maine- April 8th

The buzzing phone on the table in front of Emma Swan was a distraction she didn’t need.  There were a million and one things that needed to be done and only one month to do them before her tour started.  She swiped to answer it without looking, too caught up in what she was doing to bother.

“Yeah?” She asked impatiently, absently brushing the tendrils of her long blonde hair out of her face.

“I have good news and I have shit news.”

Emma sighed, albeit quietly.  It was Ruby, one of her closest friends and the rhythm guitarist for her backing band who also had a flair for the dramatic.  She only hoped that whatever it was Ruby was calling about wouldn’t turn into a two hour conversation over something they could easily discuss when she didn’t have time sensitive decisions to make.  Preferably in a month when they were finally on the tour bus and had nothing but time to kill between cities.

“If it’s about going on that second date with Dorothy that I already talked you into once can it wait?  I’m trying to finalize this set list so I can send it to Regina so she can send it to the lighting guys and the sound guys and we can stop fucking around at rehearsals and get things going almost smoothly.”

“Um, yeah… I mean, it’s not entirely about my date with Dorothy,” Ruby said with what sounded like trepidation.

Suspicion and dread immediately filled Emma’s veins.  Ruby was anything but hesitant when it came to sharing information.  She’d once announced at a club they were playing that she was on her period and would only accept phone numbers that were written on the outside wrapper of a chocolate bar.  By the time they made it back to their motel she had a mound of candy that would have made Augustus Gloop jealous.

“What’s the good news?”

“Nah, you’ll want the shitty news first,” Ruby hummed with a grin in her voice, her confidence restored.

She groaned, “When have I ever wanted the shitty news first?”

“Never, but this time the good news won’t make sense without it-” Ruby took in a deep breath, loud enough for Emma to hear over the connection and it set her back on edge. “Okay, so I was on that second date with Dorothy and it was going great.  Like, really great.  She’s amazing and funny and surprising.  We went to a paintball place.  Paintball, me!”

“Ruby-”

“And it was actually fun.  You know I’m more of a heels and cocktails kinda gal but I was getting into it-”

“Ruby-”

“Something about the adrenaline maybe or possibly the weird power trip of having a fake weapon to stalk your prey.  Though that makes me sound like I’m about to go play the most dangerous game or something-”

“RUBY!  The shitty news!”

“Oh, right,” Ruby had the decency to sound abashed but it did nothing to alleviate the pounding that had started in Emma’s head. “So paintball,  fun and exciting and I may have broken my arm.”

Emma suddenly felt faint, “What?”

“In two places,” Ruby continued, sounding almost proud of herself. “Plus there’s some stitches and a bunch of Bandaids involved but you probably don’t care about those.”

“How long?” She winced at her harsh question, knowing she sounded uncaring.  She backtracked, “No, fuck, wait, are you okay?  That should have been my first question.”

Ruby laughed, “Don’t worry, after all these years I know where your priorities lie.  I’m fine, they’ve got me on the good stuff here.”

“Wait, are you still at the hospital?” Emma stood up, ready to jump into whatever action was needed.

“Yup, they’ve still got to set the bones and wrap it up like the world’s worst present but like I said: the good stuff.”

“Alright, I’m on my way,” Emma dashed to her room and frantically tried to find a matching pair of shoes in the piles of crap strewn across the floor. “Do you need anything?  A change of clothes?  Are they keeping you there overnight?  Want me to stop by Granny’s?  Should I call Granny?”

“Whoa, Emma, slow down,” Ruby said, laughing again. “Dorothy called Granny when we were on our way to the hospital.  She’s already here and glaring at anyone in a white coat that walks by my little curtained area.  It should only be an hour or so then it’s home to rest.  You can come over with pizza and I’ll bore you to death then with all the little details of my date.”

“Okay,” she breathed, dropping down onto her bed with a tennis shoe in one hand.  “Pizza.  I can do that.”

“Good.  It’s six weeks by the way,” Ruby said offhandedly.

“Six weeks,” she repeated, confused by the non-sequitur.

“Recovery time.  At least six weeks.”

The shoe dropped out of her hand, “Six weeks.”

“And then a few weeks of physical therapy,” Ruby continued. “So, more like two months give or take.”

“Ruby,” she said weakly. “The tour starts in a month.  There’s no time to audition a replacement and have them learn the songs and what if they don’t get along with us or, fuck, what if they have a massive ego or-”

“Emma, stop.” Ruby said calmly. “This is where the good news comes in.”

“Good news?  How can there be good news?”

“I told you there would be,” Ruby tsked, “Here it is.  I already have a replacement ready!  He knows most of the songs you’ve been picking, has a shit ton of experience on the road and playing the type of venues we’ve got booked, and best of all he’s available to start as soon as you tell me yes.”

Ruby’s words had started to slow but her excitement was still palpable.  Emma on the other hand felt nothing but dread settling in her stomach.  Ever since she’d started doing the music thing seriously Ruby had been a part of the band playing behind her.  The seedy bars with tiny stages, the slightly better clubs with slightly worse sound systems, the places that could actually be called venues that held more than a hundred people and then bigger and bigger until she was finally selling out places that easily sat four or five thousand people.  She’d been there for everything, had seen everything, knew everything and her not being able to be there for any part of it was starting to cause Emma’s vision to go slightly grey at the edges.

“I need to call Regina,” she gasped, trying to draw in a deep breath, “We can cancel the first few weeks or reschedule them.”

“Emma-”

“I’ll say I have bronchitis or those polyp things on my vocal chords.  Or I can do the shows acoustic-”

“Emma, if you’d just-

“But then I’ll have to figure out how to pay Will and Tink-”

“Or you could just give this guy a chance, maybe?” Ruby said sharply and a bit pointedly. “I’m not letting you sabotage the biggest fucking thing to happen to you because I can’t play for a few weeks.  The fans don’t care who’s in the backing band, they’re paying to see you.”

“Then they won’t mind an acoustic show, will they?” Emma snapped back.

“No, but it’s also not what you’ve been teasing on Instagram for the past few months.  Not to mention all the techies and roadies that have already been hired that will be fired because they’ll be deemed unnecessary.  Plus isn’t it in your contract with the label that any major changes to the tour had to be approved by them?  I can tell you right now they won’t approve of anything this close to the start date.”

Emma hated that Ruby was right but couldn’t help one last argument, “And replacing you with some rando off the street isn’t a major change?”

“First off: the label cares even less about who’s in the backing band then the fans do.  As long as we make you sound good and don’t upstage you they’re happy,” Ruby said flippantly. “Second: Jones isn’t some rando, he’s actually a session guitarist and has played on a few songs on your last two albums.  Third: This is your best option and you know it.”

“I don’t know it,” she grumbled, “He could still be a problem, you know, personality wise or whatever.”

“Okay, sure,” Ruby conceded, “but you won’t know unless you give him a chance.  So will you?  Give him a chance?”

“Ugh, fine, but if he sucks I’m definitely writing a song called ‘I fucking told you so’.”

“And if he doesn’t I get to write it and you’ll have to play the terrible result at the final show,” Ruby said gleefully.

“I hate you,” Emma sighed, falling back so she was laying across the width of her bed.

“No you don’t,” Ruby paused and Emma could hear murmuring in the background. “Hey, the doctor’s back and they’re ready to get my bones a crackin’.  You can complain about it more tonight.  Meat lovers supreme, extra large, and bring those cinnamon sticky things too!”

Ruby hung up before Emma could utter a sound.  She chuckled to herself before the reality of the situation sunk back in.  For Ruby’s sake she’d give the Jones guy a chance but she had little faith that it would work out as easily as Ruby had made it sound.  Nothing had ever worked out easily for her before, no use in getting her hopes up again.

[bi-leigh-bi]

personally I don't hate Booker (but I totally understand why some people do) but like,,,, some people need to understand that you can want someone to get help while still holding them accountable for their actions, like Booker absolutely does need therapy but that's not a reason to turn the other cheek when he literally was complicit in Joe and Nicky being kidnapped and tortured. I'm pretty neutral on the whole Booker situation but I feel like this should be obvious idk

This is really all I’m saying. I don’t care if people like Booker. I care that people liking Booker somehow means Booker’s feelings and pain are the one thing that matters. They see the punishment only in how it affects Booker. They see his betrayal only in how much pain it means he was feeling. They’re literally excusing everything he did. Sometimes outright blaming Joe and Nicky for it. Blaming Joe for being the one who wanted such a “harsh” and “cruel” punishment. Etc.

Like Nicky and Joe were gassed- possibly to death, Nicky had obviously been shot in the process of being taken- captured. Tied up. They were tied down and had pieces of themselves cut out. They were killed. Experimented on. Tortured. And forced to truly believe that this might be the rest of their lives until one of them died forever.

Andy was literally and figuratively “stabbed” in the back by someone she loved like family. He assumed because she was sad and exhausted with the world that it meant she wanted to die, or would be okay with Nicky and Joe being tortured and killed and captured- when he knows what she went through with Quyhn.

He was okay with a girl he just met being captured and experimented on. And because of him Nile, who was haunted by killing one man and walked away because she didn’t want to kill anyone else, had to kill so fucking many people to save them.

Like I don’t know how you can watch that whole movie and seriously only be concerned with how depressed Booker must be and how terrible it is that they’re “abandoning” him for 100 years and putting the responsibility of fixing him on everyone else. It’s bullshit.

Andy didn’t forgive him, whatever these people want to think. You think she’s just oh okay with him getting Nicky and Joe tortured like that? You think she’s only concerned with Booker? You think she doesn’t care that Nile had to abandon her plans to go back to her family and her desire to not kill more people? Like why would her only concern be Booker? She’s sad and heartbroken and she loves him but that doesn’t mean forgiveness. And Andy agreed to the terms of the punishment too.

Joe and Nicky deserve to be away from someone they love like a brother who betrayed them in the deepest way. Who caused them to watch the man they love suffer over and over. They deserve time away from him. They deserve to try to feel safe again.

And sure maybe Nile really was willing to let him off with an apology. The betrayal just isn’t as deep for her. But just because she would accept an apology doesn’t mean she still doesn’t feel anger or feel betrayed.

Which brings me to another point, to be honest, the only person Booker actually utters an apology to at any point is Andy. And the only moment he starts to regret his actions are when he realizes she’s mortal. Which is hilarious since apparently he thought she wanted to die anyways so why the fuck does he care?

Like even Copley had the decency to start expressing some kind of regret even before then. Like. Damn.

This ended up long, when doesn’t it, but the point is Booker can be your fave, you can indentify with him, you can love him, but stop acting like anything he did was okay. Stop looking at everything only in how it affects him.

Which isn’t even stepping into the racist subtext of assuming that Joe was the one who wanted 100 years and forced everyone else to agree. Or how it’s pretty homophobic to ignore the suffering of the queer characters because the straight white dude is sad.

Like I’ve said, I was indifferent to Booker until fandom did want it always does, which is make his part of the story the only part that mattered.

[weeklyfangirl]

Frat Boy Pt. 21

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19 , part 20

HI LOVIES. Please enjoy a Friday update on the Frat Boy universe. This one is a bit of a breather after the TUMULTUOUS ANGST of the last chappie. Shorter than my usual, but it’s all the chapter needed. Tons more y/n and Harry interaction on the way in the next! Have a safe and happy day loves xx

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Things I want:

Live a life that helps others

Financial freedom

Experience a great love

Visit the the Pincio Gardens in Italy

To have more dreams and fewer nightmares

Doodle more

Acquire a first edition book, either because an old  friendly man who owns an antique bookshop decides to give it to me in a bonding moment, or because I have accomplished #2 and I am celebrating being a Boss Bitch

To be happy

Please note: not necessarily in that order

 It was taped above my desk, waiting for me to bring it in to the next session. I hesitated to write number 6. It was a dream I hardly entertained after committing my scholarly life to pursue medicine. I used to love to doodle. All the time. Since elementary school. I doodled so much my mom dedicated a wall in the house to my illustrations. She hung a sign above it that affectionately said “Y/N’s Doodles.” Seriously, you couldn’t get me to stop. Even if it was gross sappy sketches of my crush Billy who I would NEVER show on the playground at recess.   

 My doodling stopped how these things normally do. Because life grew busier than anything else, and the sketchpad and easel my dad had bought for me at a garage sale became ignored, collecting dust in the corner of my room. At some point, it’d become a year since I’d drawn anything, and then it was two, and three, and by this point I’d realized I was the one who’d need to create her own stability in life and medicine was the more logical fit. It wasn’t that I didn’t see the value in drawing anymore, I just had other things take up my time. It became a comfort just knowing I used to draw. Paul had paved his way, and now I was on my way to do the same. At least with medicine, my soul felt fed. It was almost comfort enough. 

  “oH WE GOT A ROGUE ONE.” 

 A flying toenail hit my eye. 

 “WHAT THE-” I flailed my arms, as though there were a thousand more coming. Renny’s mouth opened in shock, her guilty body hunched over her bent leg. Clippers in hand.  

 “Sorry!!” Renny burst up laughing.

 “oH MY GOSH CAN YOU DO THAT OVER A TRASH CAN OR SOMETHING?!” 

 “IT HAD A MIND OF ITS OWN!!” she screamed back. 

 I blinked rapidly, my left eye watering up and spilling painless tears. “Well I’m going to have conjunctivitis at the studio later. Or I’ll be stumbling in blind.” I wiped it away.

 I heard another clip and she put up her hands with another giggle. 

 “All done. And you won’t stumble, I’m going to be there.” Renny extended her leg, her perfectly trimmed foot nearly touching the ceiling.

 “You’re just going to solicit Zayn to be his next subject.” 

 “Maybe,” her grin grew devious. “But also because I want to see if he captured the angelic beauty and complex nymph nuances of my best friend.” 

 I put a hand to my chest, still aching from uncertainty. “Honored.” 

 “Want to watch another episode until it’s time to go?” 

 This whole lazy morning had been an OC Housewives bingefest. She’d seen it on my homepage and had a complete spazz, twitching whilst proclaiming but i’ve been trying to get you to watch this show for YEARS!! When she saw the old season I was on, though, she didn’t have to question why her pestering had miraculously worked. She didn’t mention him aloud besides giving me a pointed look. And so, we watched it, even though I wasn’t really in the mood to see anything about Harry right now. It’d hurt more than I thought to walk away from him last night, and to see how sad he looked when I did. 

 After last night, he hadn’t posted anything to social media. He’d called, twice, but I knew he was drunk, or worse, and I was tired, and whatever he would say he could tell me in the morning. Even though I knew he wouldn’t. 

 And he didn’t. 

 And therein lay the problem. 

 It hurt to see his family on my little box of a computer screen, weird to see his life and get glimpses of his childhood. I felt like a hacker spying on home videos. But then I reminded myself that thousands of people had already done the same. At this point, it was just… morbid curiosity.

 “Nah, I don’t know if I can handle any more of that right now. Dr. Rhinecuff is going to yell at me if I don’t return these scanned copies to him by Monday.” 

 “Ew, he smells like meat.” 

 “RENNY!!” 

 “I’m just saying. That one time I went with you it smelled like pastrami in his office. He has a PhD, but isn’t with-it enough to buy air freshener.”

 “He likes pastrami sandwiches, let him live.” 

 She scrolled on her phone, not bothering to respond, and my gaze turned to the window. 

 “Hey Renny?” 

 “Hm.” 

 A bird flew close to the glass, halting just before it hit it, then zooming off in the opposite direction. “What’d you do when your parents were fighting?” 

 “Ummm…” I knew the question registered in her mind when she stopped scrolling, suddenly concerned. “Are your parents okay?”

 “Yeah. I mean, kind of.” I glossed over it, not caring to get into the bitter details. “I was just curious.” 

 “Uhh..” She plucked at the soft cotton of her cotton candy pajamas that were fraying at the knees. “I lost my virginity to Zach,” she half-laughed.   

 “Zach? Neighbor boy Zach?” 

 Renny nodded. She always sounded a little sad when she talked about him. Zach was the hot college boy who shared a backyard fence with Renny, the girl who may or may not have used her kitchen stool to peak over and see him workout on the grass every summer he came home. I’d known they’d slept together. I just didn’t think he was her first. 

 “I just tried to be out of the house as much as I could,” she said. “Found my true love Mary J.” 

 “Oh.” 

 “It was shitty, but I’m glad I got it over with.”

 “The divorce or your virginity.” 

 “Both,” she chortled. “Why what’s up? Are you sad or something? I have a j in my drawer.” 

 “No, no, I’m fine.” Mostly I was just wondering what it must be like to feel so sexually liberated. In my house sex wasn’t talked about. At all. The inevitable sex scene in every other movie would result in my dad blaring out “WHAT KIND OF MOVIE IS THIS!” in an attempt to make it less awwkard, but having it backfire and only make it horrendously more awkward. I wasn’t saving my virginity for anyone in particular, but after all those romance novels, I wanted it to be… something. I wanted to feel something towards the person where it would justify something I’ve kept to myself for so long. I wanted it to be intense. I wanted it to be like the books. Like a Frank Sinatra song that swept up your heart and transported you back to a time of gentlemen and cigars and women in long evening gowns with fur coats and martinis. 

 “I wish I could just get it over with,” I confessed. One half of me screamed YOU’RE IN YOUR TWENTIES HAVE ALL THE SEX while the other half said YOU’VE WAITED THIS LONG DAMN IT HOLD OUT A LITTLE LONGER. I didn’t know which part of me was compromising more. 

 Renny leaned in, quick. “Would you do it with Harry?” 

 Like the flip of a switch, I remembered the sensuous heat of his body against mine, wrapping me up and pressing me against him where we just fit. And I couldn’t imagine how much better it’d feel to be even more connected to him. 

 “Maybeeee…?” 

 But then there was last night. 

 I cringed. No matter how with me he’d seemed… he couldn’t have been present after mixing whatever the hell he took and a handle of alcohol. Did I really want someone like that? Someone who could only give a shell of themselves? 

 “No, I wouldn’t. Or- ugh, I don’t know. I don’t know if it could ever mean as much to him.” 

 Renny nodded. “I mean, don’t let him pressure you, obviously. If he does, I’ll kick his baby maker smack into his prostate. Prostate. See, anatomy. You taught me that.” 

 “Haha, no, he’s not like that.” My brows stitched. I was confused why he wasn’t more like that, actually. We’d known each other for several months now and he hadn’t even put a finger in me. When I thought about it, it actually frustrated me. Don’t pressure me to do anything, but I wanted to be pushed to do something. I was never the bold one in areas like this. 

 Not that I should be so willing to do anything with him anymore anyways. Something shifted in me when I’d seen him last night. It wasn’t a shift I could easily describe, but it’d set me a foot apart from my heart. A bit of me was shocked that it had happened so suddenly. 

 But this shift was new, and my heart still wanted what it wanted. I knew that if I watched any more OC Housewives with Harry’s toddler curls and surfer tan, I’d be sucked right back into speculating about what our future kids could look like. And if I saw him? 

 You were right, Harry. You are fucked. 

 I cringed again. That was harsh. That was very very harsh. 

 I didn’t know if I’d have the courage to apologize. What if my pheromones went berserk and magnetized me to his side??

 Renny was right.

 I needed therapy. 

 The clippers were tossed back on my desk.

 “Thanks,” she said. “Have you started on your DG Double P yet?” 

 DG Double P = Renny Speak for DG Pretty Please. 

 I groaned. “No. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, honestly. I have to-”

 “NO!!! Don’t tell me. We’re not supposed to tell each other.” Her hand extended in panic.

 “Fine. I can keep a secret.” 

 I was getting a little too good at that lately.

 She moved onto her belly, splaying her arms out in a dramatic fashion, face squished against the comforter. “Isn’t it just killing you inside.” She was dead serious. 

 “Yeah, more than you know.” 

 And I was serious, too. 

 --------------------------------------

 I wasn’t expecting people to dress up as much as they did. Donned in my only pair of yoga pants and a chunky white sweater, I walked arm-in-arm with Renny past girls in cocktail dresses and guys in button-downs. 

 Something that sounded like a baby’s cry filled my ears, but it was gone as soon as we walked through the doors to the on-campus gallery.  . 

 “Woah did you hear that?” 

 Renny nodded, tossing her head back. “There’s a baby somewhere.” 

 It reminded me of the bodiless screams in my nightmare. In my chunky sweater, I shivered undetectably.

 The on-campus gallery rotated exhibits throughout the year, but this time, student sculptures were on pedestals, nightmarish portraits hung on the walls, and red and orange tapestries swooped down and across the ceiling in a cirque-du-soleil moment as if to secure us beneath fire. Some students had separate booths, but other pieces of work trailed seamlessly into the next. 

 A tree made from photographs and newspaper took up the center of the space. Zayn had been so adamant about his muse having life, I wondered if that was the focus of this exhibit - to capture natural life. But I suppose all art did. 

 “It’s the circle of life exhibit,” Renny stated, as if reading my thoughts. 

 “How’d you know that?” 

 She held up a pamphlet she must’ve grabbed from the entrance. 

 I quickly scanned the room, hoping to find Zayn quickly so I could skip out just as quick. 

 Several of my professors were here, including Dr. Rhinecuff. When he saw me, I raised my hand, but he raised his cup of red wine awkwardly and looked away. 

 My hand wavered. 

 Odd. 

 Zayn was standing by the tree, speaking with an older woman. Her skin was a rich brown, short hair hidden beneath a chic scarf. The man beside her looked around the same age with graying facial hair, a pocket hanky, and beaded bracelets. Art professors. 

 I caught his gaze, and he gestured me over. 

 “Y/N, these are my instructors. David and Ebony.”   

 Their eyes lit up in recognition. “He did you a great justice,” David said, gray moustache twitching with the words.

 Ebony beamed. “Oh yes, a piece was already sold. He’s going to be the next big wig before he graduates,” she gushed. “Zayn, I’m sure you’ll be splitting the profits with the heart of the piece.”

 She gestured to me and his smile widened, but my stomach sank faster. 

 “I didn’t know these pieces were going to be sold.”

 Ebony sensed my concern. The wine in her glass swirled. “We thought allowing the pieces to be shown and auctioned was a good way to replicate what many of them should be doing once they graduate. The whole department gets involved, and these kids put in a lot of work, and the reputation of starving artists isn’t something we want to buy into here.”

 I nodded. “I mean, that’s great. That’s… really amazing.” 

 Zayn couldn’t meet my eyes. He knew. He could sense my hesitance, too. 

 “Now he can finally afford a nice dinner to take you out!” David proclaimed. 

 We were all quiet for a minute. “You know, for a thank you dinner,” David covered up. Zayn’s brows scrunched and he shook his head a bit, not knowing where David’s comment came from. 

 “Do you do this regularly?” Ebony asked, steering the conversation away from an awkward moment. 

 My ears pricked up when I realized she was looking at me. “Excuse me?” 

 “Well I was just thinking…” a light laugh lifted as if her idea would be outrageous. “Would you mind sitting in for one of my classes on Monday? Our model had a sudden death-” 

 “My God,” David proclaimed. 

 Ebony waved her hand. “-in his family. I haven’t called to replace him yet.”

 It quieted as they looked at me, waiting for a response. “Oh, I don’t… I don’t usually do this. At all. It was a chance thing.” 

 “Luck be the artist.” David raised his glass. 

 Ebony followed suit, looking at my empty hand. “You just going to let her stand there without a drink?”

 “Yeah, Zayn. What kind of treatment is this?” I teased. 

 He did a slight bow. “Apologies. We’ll walk to drinks, immediately.” He pulled us away, leading us further into the showroom as his head dipped low to my ear. “Renny just passed us to meet Felix and them. They’re through here.” 

 We stepped under an archway that led into a darker-lit room, but his hand stopped me beneath the nook. “Did yeh notice anything?”

 Yeah. I was noticing how close we were in this archway. He saw my eyes start to squint in thought and he turned me around to face the room we’d just left. 

 “Look closer.” 

 My eyes roamed the crowd, trying to find some sort of person, or pattern he could be referring to. With a brief seize of my heart, I expected to see somebody from the gang. 

 “Look at the artwork, Y/N.” His breath warmed my skin. 

 The paintings all seemed to be bright, though sticking to red, orange, blacks, and grays. Wait, forget a pallette pattern. The next painting had blue and purple, too. One sculpture looked like a writhing ghost, twisting and reaching for something above. Or maybe it was an unearthed tree root. Despite all the bold colors, there was something off-putting about how bright they all were. It wasn’t a soothing brightness. It was almost violent. The orange and red writhing tapestries warped the ceiling into something hot. 

 “Is it hell?” I chortled, but quickly quieted. I expected him to take offense, but his hand went lightly around my waist with a small smile.

 “Could be. See-” his arm extended out to scan the perimeter “-all this art is supposed to represent death, but challenge the notion of it through color.” 

 “How so?” 

 “Yeh know it’s usually your blacks, and your grays, s’depressing shit. But we’re born from death. Before life, there was nothing, but something. It’s bold and necessary and there, and no one really knows whatever comes before. Or after.” He looked at the room, taking a sip of wine. I watched as he swallowed, and I imagined the wine running down. “What is death but an uncertain existence.” He said the thought almost happily, looking at me with a slight smirk. “Could be anythin’.” 

 He took a deep breath, letting his hand touch the top of the archway. It was then that I noticed it wasn’t just plain drywall. A collage of photographs ran all along the inside. 

 He wasn’t as tall as Harry, but his hand still reached the top, scuffing across a picture of an African landscape taped over a toddler eating fruity pebbles. 

 “They’re pictures. Everyone donated one,” he said. 

 A strand of words were painted over the collage, running from one end of the archway to the other, and I tilted my head back to read it. “Things... that…. make... m..e …...feel alive.” 

 “Everyone was able to design their space in order to control, to some extent, how their art was perceived. Everyone was a part of the transition space.” 

 “Very nice,” I noted, slightly put-off. I hadn’t been expecting this art show to be so… professional. “Zayn, this is amazing. Like, really, truly, professional-grade stuff is happening. The presentation, the pieces, everything.”

 His smile grew wider, putting cool hands over my eyes. I flinched, but let him. 

 I felt him come closer. 

“Listen now,” he urged. 

 I listened, but I wasn’t sure for what. There was the familiar busy rumble of people mingling, parents visiting their kids, and professors droning on about the talent of their students. But it was chatter. I couldn’t make out one conversation over another. I shrugged up against his other hand that was atop my shoulder. 

 “Sometimes you need to change where you’re planted to understand.” 

 I hoped he could see my cross expression because I couldn’t tell if he was bullshitting me right now. It’d been a day. It’d been a night. And I wasn’t in the mood for more philosophical ramblings - especially about death. “I don’t know what you mean,” I sighed. 

 “Meaning I have to move you closer to the speakers.” He let out a breathy laugh. “Jus’ keep your eyes closed, okay?” 

 I nodded. His hand moved, tilting my head to its side. Eyes still closed, I became self-conscious imagining people trying to move past me, and here I was, planted, eyes closed in the middle of the archway. My cheeks heated. It was unnerving knowing people could see me when I couldn’t see them. And anyway, I must’ve looked ridiculous. 

 “What do you hear?” he urged. 

 “I hear a lot of people talking,” I griped. 

But right when I was about to open my eyes-  

 I heard a familiar chirping through the chatter. 

 “Birds?” I opened my eyes. 

 “Observance can be taught, sometimes.” Zayn leant back, looking mighty proud of himself. 

 “Why are there birds?” 

 “We’re entering life,” he smiled, backing into the space. I tipped my wine back, several long gulps lightening my step as I followed him. Immediately, I noticed much more natural, earthier tones. For being a room of life, it was surprisingly darker than the prior room.

 Renny, Felix, and Andre were huddled in the center where a makeshift wall-on-wheels covered in vines divided the room in half. 

 My eyes widened, trying to adjust to the dimness. “It’s a lot darker in here.” 

 “All intentional. They decided to play with light in here. People usually think of life being bright ‘n that, but it’s also when we experience varying degrees of darkness. There’s a balance to things and the trouble is finding it.” Understanding laced his voice as his dark eyes bore into mine, almost completely black. One look from Zayn and I was reminded of all the weight I’d been carrying. I fidgeted, uncomfortable seeing myself in his eyes. 

 “Y/N, get over here!” Renny called. My shoulders visibly relaxed. My saving grace. “You didn’t tell me you did this,” she said lowly as soon as I got close enough, shocked excitement barely contained. Her giddy smile gave it away though. “Miss sexy secret keeper over here.” 

 “What do you mean?” 

 She playfully poked my sides, but Andre and Felix avoided my gaze. Something wasn’t right. And it stirred my stomach, my body already knowing, somehow. 

 I turned in slow motion, the charcoal drawings in my peripherals stopping me in place. Framed amidst the vines, my face was etched onto paper, scrunching and twisting in various expressions. But my body was attached and twisting, too. And it was bare, bent over, spread out, laying down… My eyes scanned over them a dozen times in a second. 

 I was naked. 

 In all of them. 

 One was titled “21st Century Love.” In this one, I faced the viewer, but looked past them, sorrowful eyes, brows furrowed, breasts I’d never shown on full display. A hickey or two on my neck. A painful sting gripped my chest. I looked sad. I looked so sad.  

 Tunnel vision, a blurred Renny rushed down to the floor, and a distant part of me registered something wet splatter on my feet. 

 The wine had dropped.

 I’d dropped it. 

 I was trapped in a shell. My body was numb. 

 “Babes, you okay?” Renny asked, her voice somewhere far away. Somewhere outside the shell, her voice drowned in the busy rumbling, with the birds, with the watchers. People were watching me now. I was being watched. “Felix, grab some towels!” she barked. 

 I looked horrified, towards Zayn, but changed my mind just as fast. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t even breathe. 

 He didn’t know me at all. He could stare at me for a thousand sessions and paint every crevice, sunspot, blemish, and mole and still not see me. How was an artist this blind? How could he not know that this was the last thing I could ever want? How could he picture me so… intimately?

 The paintings seemed to swirl into one before bouncing back out into their separate exposees. 

 Because that’s what it was. 

 An exposure. 

 A stranger could pay to have me in their home. 

 The floor spun, vision spotting. 

 My lungs tightened, tearing me away from Renny, from Felix, from Andre. From Zayn, the artist who painted a confused girl so unashamed. So honestly. Savagely and Unabashedly. 

 “I didn’t want this.” 

 And it was when I was halfway out the door that I realized the voice had come from me, a mantra pushing my shell all the way home. 

part 22

[herohotline]

Wet Clay (P.3)

Shouta Aizawa x Reader

Summary: Bakugo and Midoriya fight outside the dorms, making Aizawa decide something for you that’s sort of uncalled for, but you guess it works out?

Word Count: 2,800+

Part One | Part Two | Part Four

Staying in the teachers’ dorms was relatively peaceful. You would have stayed at your own place, but staying outside of U.A while the League of Villains were still active was an absolute ‘no-go’, as Nezu had phrased it. The dorms got a little hectic sometimes, but dorms always do, so other than that you weren’t bothered much. 

Until tonight, when you can hear the familiar sound of explosives nearby. 

You had just gotten out of the shower when you heard them, so you hurriedly throw on whatever clothes were lying on your floor before dashing downstairs. Was it a villain attack? Did they really manage to get inside U.A again?

As you hurriedly run to the main doors of the building you spot Aizawa- and he looks more annoyed than anything else. “Aizawa!” You whisper harshly, jogging over to him. He spares you a grunt, still walking and having you catch up to him. “What’s going on?”

“Apparently it’s Midoriya and Bakugo,” he huffs. 

“Oh,” you say. That’s definitely much, much better than a villain attack… but two students fighting at this time of night? That’s not good news. “Are you going to stop them?” 

“Stop them, strangle them…” He mumbles, and you notice his capture weapon that sits in his hands. You nervously swallow. 

“I’ll come with you.” 

“Okay.” Aizawa looks like he could care less as you both exit the dorm building- and surprisingly Yagi is there as well, apparently waiting. 

“All Might?” Aizawa’s eyebrows knit together. “What are you doing?” 

“Ah, yes… I heard about Midoriya and Bakugo fighting. I’ve known those two for a long time- before they came into U.A… would you mind if I took care of it?” 

Well, this was interesting. How does All Might know Midoriya and Bakugo? 

“Oh, and ___! What are you two doing out together?” Yagi looks at the two of you, a surprised look in the black abyss of his eyes. “...Did you just get out of the shower?” 

“Yeah, you caught me,” you let out a flustered laugh as you cross your arms. All you managed to put on was a tank top and some pajama shorts… It’s way too chilly to be dressed like this. “I heard the explosions and thought we were under attack or something, so I ran down.” 

“Ah.”

There’s a weird silence. 

“Anyway,” you shiver slightly under their looks and the cold air and continue on. “I know you’re going to take care of it… but once you calm them down, can you bring them over to us? I seriously need to have a talk with them both. Something’s going on and it’s my job to help.” You spare a glance at Aizawa, who still looks fairly peeved. “...and Aizawa’s job to scold them.” 

“Yes, of course,” Yagi nods once and then he’s already backing off, a hand in the air to wave as another explosion sets off in the distance. He starts running after that. 

“...We should head to Recovery Girl’s office. They’ll have injuries, no doubt,” Aizawa sighs, his grip loosening on his capture weapon as he looks at you up and down. “...Change.”

“Right!” You groan in embarrassment and head back for the dorm buildings before stopping abruptly to look back at Aizawa with a glare. “Don’t leave without me. You always do that, I’m serious.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Just go.” 

You have a feeling he isn’t feeling very patient tonight, so you do as your told. 

---

Once you make it to Recovery Girl’s office- which is empty, understandably since it’s so late- it doesn’t take long until Yagi arrives with two sulking teenagers behind him. It also doesn’t take long until they’re wrapped up in Aizawa’s capture weapon. 

“Gentle…” You say under your breath, standing from behind him as Aizawa gives them the scariest look you’ve ever seen on him. He listens by just barely loosening his grip again- but barely. 

“W-wait, Aizawa- I’m the cause, really!” Yagi shakes his hands, a worried look on his face. 

“The cause? How?” Aizawa frowns, his eye starting to twitch. 

Your hand subconsciously lands on his shoulder, trying to get him to calm down as you rub his tense back. You don’t even notice you’re doing it until Yagi gives you a look and you quickly bring your hand back to your side. 

He leans in and whispers to the both of you. “Bakugo felt responsible for my retirement- he had to go to the exam with those pent up feelings I neglected and his inferiority complex exploded.” 

God, you’re so behind. What the fuck happened that would make Bakugo feel responsible?

“It’s because I didn’t realize and was negligent of his mental care,” his worried eyes shoot to you, “it was a fight egged on by the failure of adults. He should see ___ right away.” At least you agree with him… 

Aizawa lets the capture weapon loose, letting both the teenagers go with a scowling look. “So they had no choice… But I still can’t let it slide.” He glares at Midoriya and Bakugo, and before you know it, they’re tied up again. “Who hit first?”

Surprisingly, Bakugo confesses with a roll of his eyes. “Me.”

“I also went in pretty hard…”

“That settles it. Four days of house arrest for Bakugo!” His finger angrily points, “three for Midoriya! You’ll both clean the dorms completely and turn in a written apology- and ___ will stay in the dorms with you and you will both have a 30-minute session a day!” 

What?! How come he roped you into this?! 

Actually, this works out great, but still- you can’t just force therapy on a teenager. Maybe Midoriya will be fine, but Bakugo will resent you!

“An optional, but highly recommended session!” You nervously cut in and Aizawa glares at you. You scowl at him and hit his shoulder- a silent message to him saying cut it out!

“One required session!” He argues- and- fuck, fine. 

“One required session,” you repeat, defeat in your tone. He’s doing you a favor- but he could have asked first. You’re sure he was stewing about their punishment the entire way over here, couldn’t he have mentioned it to you? 

The boys look equally defeated as Aizawa continues his scolding, telling them both to take care of their injuries and go to bed in a very harsh way, but at least he cares. Once they both scuttle back to the dorms with Toshi, you’re left in the nurse’s room with the brooding teacher and you promptly smack his arm.

“Thanks for the heads up and dragging me into house-arrest with them!” 

“You’re welcome,” you smack him again, “God- okay!” Aizawa takes in a deep breath through his nose, a hand coming to his face and pinching the bridge of his nose. He lets out the breath slowly, clearly trying to cool down and you let him- but your hands are on your hips as you glare at him and wait. “Okay,” he repeats, “I’m sorry.”

Now it’s your turn. You bite your lip as you sigh, crossing your arms again. “I’m sorry for hitting you. But, seriously, leave the therapy thing to me. I know you care, and I know you’re worried, but I know what I’m doing. Okay?” And then, as an added thought, “you were being stupid, but I know what you were trying to do. And it’ll probably work, so... thank you.” 

“Yeah,” Aizawa huffs. “...What were you doing, by the way?” 

Suddenly the mood shifts from awkward and apologetic to awkward and embarrassing. “What?” 

“You touched me.”

“Right,” you wince, gritting your teeth. You probably crossed a line there. “I’m sorry. I just saw you were so tense and I kind of just did it. I know a little bit of massage therapy, so I thought I could…” Your cheeks grow warm as you look to the floor. “I’m sorry about that.” 

Aizawa hums- from your peripherals you can see him beginning to fold up his capture weapon as the silence grows. “Come on,” he suddenly says, and he’s waiting for you at the doorway. “We should get back to bed. You’re under house arrest as of tomorrow.” 

“How exciting,” you roll your eyes and smile as you follow him out. You notice two things then- the first is that he actually waited for you this time, and suddenly it’s not so hard to walk next to him anymore. Your eyes look at his legs which are taking shorter steps than usual, and your smile grows. 

---

You wake up bright and early the next morning so you have time to head down to the student dorms and inform everyone of your new living situation. You texted the other teachers and Nezu as you got dressed, and then you were on your way to the next building over. Quite frankly, you don’t know where you’ll be sleeping, but maybe you won’t have to move your living arrangement at all. You weren’t actually under ‘house-arrest’ like Midoriya and Bakugo, more just their supervisor, so it should be fine to walk over to the student dorms in the morning and then back to your room at night. 

Caught in your thoughts, you’re abruptly cut out of them as you hear a familiar voice calling out your name. “___?” And then, as a follow-up, “...Aizawa?” 

Oh, God, he’s right behind you. You nearly jump out of your own skin- again- and you don’t miss the cocky look that crosses his face when you get scared. Hand over your heart, you ignore the black mass of a man behind you as you look up to Todoroki who’s standing at the front doors. 

“Todoroki, good morning!” You walk up the stairs and smile at him. “We’re just here for an announcement. Do you think you could get Iida to gather everyone?” 

Todoroki nods, opening the door for both you and Aizawa before he disappears upstairs. 

“You at least know that Iida is the class president,” Aizawa hums from behind you still, basically acting as your shadow as you walk through the common area. 

“Well, Momo has come to me a few times, so it was mentioned.” You grab an apple that sits in the middle of the dining table, ignoring the look your co-worker gives you as you take a bite. 

Then, from somewhere upstairs- “CLASS 1-A! HEAD DOWNSTAIRS IMMEDIATELY FOR A MEETING WITH AIZAWA….. AND ___? ...AND ___!” and then to follow it up- “GO GO GO!!!” 

“What is this, a military hustle?” You whisper under your breath, just barely hearing Aizawa’s chuckle as Iida comes running down the stairs. You’d think he was using his quirk- but no, he’s just that fast. “G-good morning, Iida! Thank you for getting their attention!” 

“Of course!” His hands move in an animated, choppy manner. “What’s this about?” 

“You’ll see,” Aizawa hums. You continue to much on your apple and by the time you’re done, everyone’s collected downstairs in front of you and Aizawa with Midoriya and Bakugo standing together in the back. Aizawa claps his hands twice, effectively getting everyone’s attention. “Alright. I’m sure you all heard, but Bakugo and Midoriya got into a fight last night. As punishment, they’re under house arrest. They will be cleaning the dorms every day, top to bottom, so if you see a mess or need to take out the garbage, you’ll show them to it.” 

Everyone’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he’s not done. You take over for him since it is about you. “I’ve been assigned as their chaperone, of a sort, so I’ll be coming here every day and looking after them. That being said, my office will be closed for four days- until Bakugo is done with his punishment. If anyone needs me…” 

Well, what do you do if someone needs you? You look up to Aizawa and he sighs. 

“If anyone is in need of ___ during school hours, you may ask for a pass and come down here. This will only be allowed if the situation is dire- until then, you must wait.” 

It shouldn’t be a problem, and you really hope it’s not. 

“That is all.” Aizawa finishes and suddenly grabs you by the arm as he heads out. You follow him, all sorts of confused since you just said you’ll be staying in the student dorms, and as the doors close behind you both you can hear the telltale sound of all the teenagers freaking out. “...They need a minute. Let’s get breakfast, we have some things to talk about.”

You weren’t aware of the things he apparently had in mind, but breakfast sounds good.

---

Surprisingly, Aizawa brings you to a diner instead of the school cafeteria where most of the teachers start their mornings. When you ask him ‘why’ he doesn’t answer- though that’s when the waiter conveniently appeared and showed you both to your table, so you suppose he got lucky with that one. 

“Listen,” he starts, sipping on the black coffee that came to him right away, “I know I dragged you into this. If any of the students cause you trouble, you have a right to do as you need to tell them to back off. Or you can come to me.” Aizawa looks oddly serious, staring at you dead in the eye as he speaks. 

You smile at him softly. “You’re kind, Shouta, but you don’t need to worry. They’re just teenagers- I know they’re rowdy, but it will be fine.”

The only reason you realize your mistake is how Aizawa’s elbow suddenly falls off the table before he quickly secures his grip on his mug and puts his elbow back in its place hard enough to make the table shake. Your mouth falls open but you don’t say anything, and neither does he. 

So… it’s fine, right? Right. Yeah. 

“A-anyways, I’m glad to be staying with them, even if it happened like this,” you continue, fiddling around with your menu. Suddenly it’s much more difficult to look him in the eye. “I’ll get to learn more about your class and their personalities- and I can do better therapy work that way. And let’s be honest- a session with Bakugo was never going to happen unless we forced it.” 

Aizawa- Shouta laughs at your comment, airy and soft. “That’s true. And breakfast is on me… as an apology.” 

This is all starting to feel somewhat personal, but you try your best to ignore it as you grin at the man across from you. “Well, I won’t say no to a free meal.” 

---

When breakfast is finished, Shouta keeps his word and pays for the meal as promised. And if he notices that you went for the cheaper options, he doesn’t say anything other than lightly bumping into you on the way out as you head toward U.A. You both head your respective ways- him, toward the school, and you the dorms- to your new job. 

Babysitting at it’s finest. 

As soon as you enter the dorm building, you notice how all the students have left and there’s the sound of dishes clanging together in the kitchen. “I’m back,” you announce yourself to the two students left behind as you toe off your shoes. 

“Ah! G-good morning, ___!” Midoriya calls from the kitchen, and then- “K-Kacchan!!” 

You don’t know who Kacchan is, but you assume it’s Bakugo as he comes exploding out of the kitchen with a pissed off look on his face. “You!” He roars, pointing right at you from across the room. 

“Me?” 

“Yeah! Come on- let’s go! I’ve been waiting all morning!” 

“W-where?” 

“To your dumbass office- I don’t know! I want to get this dumb session over with already!” Bakugo is huffing as he stomps toward you, yelling “put your shoes back on!!” as he throws on his own and a jacket to cover his arms. 

...What? 

The student is already outside, pacing back and forth with enough force to burn the sidewalk beneath him. You hurriedly slip your shoes back on, looking to Midoriya who’s looking worriedly from the kitchen. “O-okay- Um. I’ll be gone with Bakugo for thirty minutes to an hour, is that alright, Midoriya?” 

He nods his head. “Yeah! Of course. I’ll just… be cleaning.” He suddenly realizes that Bakugo has left him with the mess of the dishes and his face falls. You give him an apologetic look, and you’d say something else but you can hear Bakugo yelling from outside and you don’t want him to change his mind, so you hurry out instead. 

“Okay! Let’s go!” He roars again, his feet stomping loudly with his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he leads the way to the school building. You follow him, still in shock. You wouldn’t have guessed this is how he would go about it- if anything, you were expecting Bakugo to wait until the very last day for his session. But… no. Instead, you’re suddenly being pushed full force into your first session with the most problematic student in the class.

And he’s already proving to be a wild card.