#so the title of the au seems very random but I assure you it is actually a very screwed up pun 💀💀💀

[leshyleaf]

what’s the story line of the bullet pattern birthday card au 👁️👁️

what exactly are you trying to accomplish with this au

This is literally such a good question that I am afraid my answer will be insufficient, or I’ll end up changing it later bc I’m still in the beginning stages of this au lol

Basically, to be purposefully vague, this au centers around a couple things:

-> One being that sans and papyrus, while also being compliments of one another, are also polar opposites of each other, in nearly every facet of their characters. (It’s one of the main reasons that I love their characters so much, that they somehow compliment and oppose each other super perfectly, and I wish I could create an au/storyline that truly explores who they are in a deeper manner, but this au is mostly just a self indulgent idea of mine consisting of stuff I like LOL)

Anyway: In this au, sans and papyrus are opposites in a way that no one really expected

-> the other thing, (the storyline) being that Frisk still has one more monster to SAVE, should they feel like taking that on. (This au takes place post-true pacifist “I want to stay with you”).

They are trying to accomplish a good ending for

someone very wronged.

This au started out with SUCH a silly ass idea that I at first found hilarious, and then…it evolved from there

[omarscurls]

The Prince actually has very nice clothes

Idk about the title but roll with it lol

This is some sort of future fic/AU where they are sort of out to the school? Idk they are at least together and like not hiding.

TWs: none? I don’t think

A/Ns look like this, don’t mind me commenting as I write haha

Enjoy!

It’s November. Simon is absolutely freezing. He hates the winter in Sweden. Where he lives, they don’t even get that much snow. It’s just dark and constantly raining for like 5 months straight.

He was shaking from the cold after just waiting for the buss a couple of minutes this morning.

And then his terrible boyfriend just laughed at him, when he entered the school in an awful mood and with wet hair.

Said boyfriend does give very warm hugs though so he couldn’t stay mad for long.

Reading and editing atm, and I actually like that sentence. :))

The lesson started, but Simon wasn’t really paying attention. To be fair, no one was paying attention. It was a very dark, early, Monday morning, so who can blame them really.

But then the teacher called his name, and since he obviously hadn’t been listening, he did not know what the question was either.

Why does none of these sentences make sense omg

So for obvious reasons did his mood not get better during that lesson.

But he did have choir practice that afternoon, so at least that was something to look forward to.

During the second lesson of the day he had finally somewhat managed to warm up, with a little help from his boyfriend between two lessons.

He was having lunch with Wilhelm when somehow, another first year managed to trip all over him and spill a big glass of water on his shirt.

On his very warm, very nice purple hoodie, specifically.

I feel like I’m forgetting what time tense thing (idk what is called) I’m writing this in aaah

The guy did seem sorry, but Simon was too tired of it all to care.

And now he didn’t have anything to wear. Which was quite a problem since he had two lessons left that day.

He just sat there wondering about what the hell he should do now, he would freeze to death if he kept wearing this shirt.

Wilhelm assured him that he would indeed not, but if it was so horrible he could just borrow one of Wilhelm’s shirts.

Simon considered it for a moment, but quickly realised that it was his best option. And while he would not admit it to Wilhelm, he did quite like wearing his boyfriend’s clothes.

Did I just realise this story is pretty pointless and that I don’t know where I’m going with it? Yes.

They went to Wilhelm’s room, and he could finally pull of the wet hoodie and T-shirt.

The sight of his shirtless boyfriend made Wilhelm stop looking for some clothes that could fit Simon, and instead he just stopped to look for a second.

Simon was not having it though. “I’m literally freezing to death here, and you’re just standing there”. Wilhelm did not have a good response for that, so he continued looking for a shirt instead.

“You look good though” he mumbled as he turned around and threw some clothes to his boyfriend.

And suddenly Simon was the one who was flustered. But he tried to hide it and pulled on the random black hoodie Wilhelm had given him.

He had to roll up the jeans he got to borrow a bit, which Wilhelm made sure to not say anything about after one look from Simon.

In conclusion, Wilhelm decided that his boyfriend looked very very cute in his clothes.

So cute that they in fact have to cuddle and make out for a bit in his room before going to class again.

And funnily enough did Simon not seem to mind when he gently pulled him onto the bed with him.

They arrive a couple of minutes too late for the lesson, and they both make sure to avoid Felice and Sara’s knowing looks when they sit down.

Weirdly enough, Wilhelm never sees that particular hoodie again.

Until one night, when he’s back in Stockholm for some Prince business. He is FaceTiming his boyfriend and they’ve been talking shit about the crown, when he notices what Simon is wearing.

He decides to not say anything though. He doesn’t really want that hoodie back anymore, considering just how good it looks on Simon.

And maybe ha does secretly like the idea of Simon walking around in his clothes.

Ok I’m ending it now I’m so done with this one and I just lost all of my (not very existent) writing skills, anyways tell me what you think cuz I actually dislike this one ok bye thanks for reading <33

[heyitsyn]

Manager!Seijoh OIKS ROUTE

a/n: this,,,, is probably the angstiest out of the routes and i seem to only write angst for oikawa and i think its a problem

this is for @what-a-creative-username​ bc oikawa is their favorite seijoh boy so this is for you 🥺

and actually buckle your seatbelts bc this is my longest work and its the biggest mess ever :’) also, this is kinda all over the place soooo

anon:

- May we have an x Oikawa ending to the Manager AU?

- okaayyyy so this is a request for the manager series. please pleASE PLEASEEEEE- make a oikawa ending! 🥺 cuz he’s my favorite and all those times with him in the story feel like more than just friends

OMG IM SORRY BUT MY INNER OIKAWA SIMP THAT I NEVER KNEW WAS EVEN THERE STARTED TO PEAK THROUGH

so basically yea

as seen in a lot of the parts,

oikawa is very,,,, loving towards you

like his entire demeanor was just so different and so,,, authentic,,,, than the ones he shows to other females

maybe it was because you didnt want him in the beginning?

the moment he saw you, he did his first antics and he expected you to turn red and fluster and cutely shy away from him 

yanno the works

yet you gave him a stony stare and denied him

ofc he was hurt and a little offended bc were you rejecting him?

hes never been rejected before and he prides himself for that but you just did and continued to do that

so he made it his mission to make you at least feel something for him

like the period part or his random proclamations of his love for you

he did it all

it didnt matter if it would bite him in the ass later because he was impulsive and he wanted you to show yourself being affected with his charms

because he was the FREAKING OIKAWA TOORU

ong this is like his validation that he is still a ladies man and has a charm that couldnt be resisted by anyone

he constantly told you that he loved you to see a reaction from you and he always was touching you whether it was just the shoulder or your hand

oikawa wanted to see you as his own personal cheerleader and you reacting to his affections would really bring him over the moon

this brings us here in the gym today

‘y/n-chan, do you want to go-’

‘oikawa-san, i dont trust you wanting to go on an innocent outing without any hidden intentions’

the team snickered and he pouted, eyes watering and curling at your side

‘y/n-chan, please? oikawa-san really wants to spend time with you~’

he begged and you finally looked up from the notebook and stared at him

god hes been much more annoying lately but you knew it was his way of letting out his anxiousness and nervousness for the incoming interhigh

so you decided to indulge him just this once and made a deal with him

‘the moment you try anything, even remotely romantic or flirty, i will leave’

you bargained but he gasped

‘what?! then what’s the point of-’

‘so you DO have hidden intentions, oikawa-san?’

you raised your eyebrow causing oikawa to quickly shake his head and detach from you

‘fine. none of that stuff, just hanging out, okay?’

he was still fussy but he accepted it

oikawa had a plan to take you to a cafe that just opened up and take you shopping and basically spoil you because girls like that, right?

they fall for boys who give them everything, right?

nope

so i read a study that surprisingly most girls arent into shopping apparently and they prefer to buy something themselves because apparently they feel indebt and dependent on men if they let them spoil them like that

idk about you but i would let oikawa spoil me tho

his plans were completely crushed when you argued with him for nearly 15 minutes to take half of your tab with the food

‘y/n-chan! i invited you out so i should pay! and boys have to pay!’

he complained, holding the other end of the tab envelope thingy but you pulled it back towards you

‘oikawa-san. you should never listen to societal normalities and instead listen and respect my wishes of paying for my half rather than going by the rules of males paying for females’

im sensing a bit of a bokuto and akaashi typa relationship between you two

oikawa shook his head and slightly stood up to lean over the table, his face approaching yours and you were slightly surprised by the sudden closeness causing you to lean back and be focused on getting away so your grip on the tab loosened

he grinned as he snatched it away from your grasp and quickly placed his card into the slot before running up to the cashier

your mouth was slacked and surprise was still written on your face even when he returned and oikawa held up a peace sign to try and lighten up

but your shock morphed into being upset

‘oikawa-san, listen here. you had-’

but he waved you off with a smile

‘no, you listen here, y/n-chan. oikawa-san loves you therefore he will give you everything in the world and all you have to do is sit there and point at whatever you want because my love will bring it to you~!’

you rolled your eyes

‘please stop being like that, oikawa-san. im not your girlfriend so dont act like my boyfriend’

he lightly scoffed, disguising it with a cough

‘y/n-chan, i dont think you understand. oikawa-san is telling you to be his good little girl and sit down. i dont understand why youre being so stubborn’

he growled softly

wHAT iS hE sAYinG

you shook your head in disbelief and stood up collecting your things making the brunette to also stand up in curiosity

‘y/n-chan? youre leaving already? i wanted to go see other places with you! i wanted to take you shopping!’

you halted and looked up at him through your long eyelashes

‘oikawa-san, i’d rather you save your money and rest your injuries instead’

you reasoned but he raised his hands in front of him to signify his wish for you to stop

‘but i want to be with you, y/n-chan’

he whispered and you blinked

‘i dont want you to spend a single dime for me after this. just you and me, oikawa-san, no money, just us’

he nodded eagerly

‘we can go anywhere you want! just,,, stay with me’

then he found himself in a bookstore with you

it was a quaint hole in the wall bookstore that you both found as you walked down the street and you excitedly dragged him inside, hand still laced together

the rows of shelves that contained different worlds in the pages were your serotonin

he watched you excitedly run to the fiction section and browsed through the different spines for anything special to check out

‘y/n-chan, i’ll go use the bathroom really quickly’

you nodded and oikawa kissed your temple before he left towards the restroom

your eyes flitted across the different titles and you snatched a book of poetry

oikawa hurriedly walked over back to you but he didnt find you at the place you were before

so he continued sifting through the mini hallways of shelves and then he stopped

it was so,,, domestic 

seeing your bright eyes looking down at the book  on your hands and the way your mouth slightly moved with the words

it was such a simple sight yet why did you look so beautiful?

the shimmering eyes that flittered when you came across a sentence you liked 

the soft lips that kinda jutted out making his desire to feel it increase that he would give anything to feel on his own

you were so focused that you didnt notice him moving behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, only noticing his head resting on your shoulder

‘’come, my darling, it is never too late to begin our love again’’

he mumbled to your ear and you released one hand from the book to grasp his arms that were around your middle

‘you read poetry?’

you whispered and oikawa chuckled

‘of course. a man as romantic as I am ought to be a poet’

he reasoned and you laughed

‘yet you fail to sway me, oikawa-san’

‘no, there is a difference. you dont want my love but i know you want to be loved by me, i can assure you!’

you swiftly placed the book back on its former place and you turned around to swing your arms around his neck

‘hmm,,,, love was never something for me. especially with you boys around’

oikawa looked down to see your shorter height and he caressed your hip

‘i love you, y/n, so let me love you the way you deserve to be’

he whispered not understanding the weight of his words and you looked down to hide the growing blush on your face before burying your face into his sweater-clad chest

‘so not fair oikawa-san’

you mumbled against the fabric but he heard it and he bursted into giggles

‘ehh~~ youre not being the fair one, y/n-chan! youre make it so hard to not fall for you when youre so beautiful~!’

he whines and you rested your chin on him so you could look up at him and your pout made him squeeze you tighter

‘hah?! that doesnt make sense! im nothing but a mess of-!’

you started but was cut off when he kissed your nose and whispered:

‘but what a beautiful mess you are’

okay so i know this is the saddest one out of the routes but ive just been serving fluff so the angst is coming soon!!!!!!

once you both were finished in the bookstore, you suggested going to this hill that allowed you to see the stars clearer

‘hmm, oikawa-san, there’s this place that natsu used to take me to whenever he wanted to see the stars so i think you’d like it’

you mentioned while walking on the sidewalk

oikawa’s hand was clutching yours and you were swinging it back and forth while lightly skipping and kicking the rocks

he watched you, amused, at how child-like you were acting right now but he was also touched, knowing your knowledge of his love for space

‘sure!’

the night sky allowed the stars to light up and you both shared giggles and laughs as the two of you stumbled over your feet with no light except from above

however once you made it to the top of the hill, oikawa pulled you close to him as you huddled on a seated position

‘how’d you know i would like this, y/n-chan?’

he asked and you gave him an obvious look

‘hah? its so obvious! you keep drawing the cancer constellation on your skin and you had an astrology book in your bag that you were also reading in the bus’

your answer brought warmth inside him and he never thought you were so perceptive of him

you noticed every little thing he does and hes,,,, never had someone do that before

except for iwa and his family and team, no one knows of his little ticks and the way he becomes obsessive of a topic once he gets interested in it

you noticed it all

‘that right there, its the big dipper!’

you pointed and he followed the direction of your finger before nodding

‘yep! waaahhh its much prettier seeing it higher up than my roof!’

he exclaimed and your gaze left the constellation towards the boy beside you

‘really,, pretty’

you absentmindedly muttered yet he was sharp and heard you

‘but its different to look at something much more beautiful’

this caused you to quickly go back to looking at the stars so you missed his love-filled eyes

‘i want to name my children by constellations. so that they can keep the oikawa legacy going forever like constellations being at the sky for all eternity. or naming it after the sky! then i can make sure theyre never going away’

he said and you nodded

you kept pointing out different shapes and laughing at his funky claims of what some stars connected to and created

‘oikawa-san, lets go to the star festival later’

you offered and he in turn looked away from you, turning red at the way the small lights illuminated your face and somehow making it more,,,, angelic

so he covered it up with his own teasing 

‘oh? the meeting of the two lovers?’

you dont know why but your cheeks burned at the mention of the ‘L’ word and oikawa noticed, quickly poking fun of your cheeks

‘oh, y/n-chan, dont be so shy!’

you pouted and turned away

‘never mind’

oikawa’s laugh rang throughout the space and he pulled you closer, practically sitting on his lap, while pointing out the stars and him pressing kisses to your cheeks

the intertwining of your fingers combined with the kisses made you feel as if you were floating with how free you felt

and you loved every moment of it

after that outing with your captain, you were conflicted

it wasnt the first time he’s openly said he loved you and his shower of affections have been there since the very beginning

yet how come you were just now feeling,,,,, different??

you were sure you felt an odd feeling inside you when he said your name with no usual suffix and it wasnt just the food that didnt agree with you

whenever his lips came in contact with your skin, it left blazing trails of red that spread out as far as it could

the heartbeat that quickened once he kissed your forehead at your doorstep and the grin you last saw when you closed the door

or the unknown smile that you didnt know you had on until natsu, who was visiting, pointed it out

‘darling, why are you just standing there? and why are you smiling like that? its weird, stop it’

you didnt even have the attitude to scold him and you giggled before twirling and holding his hand

‘oh, natsu~ i want to dance! and sing!’

you shouted, taking him with you and dancing around the living room

tbh natsu was very worried but he remembered you mentioning that you were meeting some guy today and it might be the reason as to why you were acting like this

he was happy

you deserved to be loved as you are and you were finally getting that love

but,,,,,,,,,

it didnt last long

albeit having a lot of fun, oikawa seemed,,,, off to you

it was,,, awkward

maybe it was because you were now aware of some type of growing attraction inside of you or every little thing he does to you could send you into shapeshifting and channeling your inner tomato

forget potato, youre now a tomato

but even his touches and affections were now limited

restricted

like the the next time you both saw each other, you shyly but happily bounded up to him and greeted him good morning

but his eyes widened, taking a step back before laughing awkwardly

‘ah ha ha, hey y/n-chan’

oikawa greeted then side-stepped to enter the gym

god you felt like you were slapped in the face

you remained frozen, staring at the spot he previously occupied and your mind was running quickly

was it because your senses were now heightened that everything made you extra sensitive?

usually, oikawa would squeal at the fact you were even greeting him this morning but he literally just walked away from you

no, you were just,,,,

overreacting

right?

yea, just,,,

overreacting

iwa noticed your downcast expression and he had a feeling it had something to do with oikawa’s off expression

you hurriedly placed your bag down and took out your notebook to start taking notes for their practice

big boy ace went up to you and placed a hand on your arm which caused you to flinch

he immediately backed off, letting go and stepping back

‘wh-hey? y/n? you okay? did something happen?’

he worriedly asked but you shook your head, not even bothering to meet his eyes

‘uh-yea. mhm, perfectly fine’

you lied and he wanted to press further but mattsun and makki called you over to check out their blocks so you ran to them

but he had a feeling you were just taking every opportunity to not answer his questions

while you were pre-occupied with the meme team, iwa marched up to oiks and tugged him around to fully talk to him

oikawa watched your interaction and he knew iwa would immediately start questioning him too

‘oi, what the hell did you do’

there was an underlying tone in his best friend’s voice that he didnt particularly like

oikawa did what he does best and plastered a smile on his face

‘hm? what do you mean, iwa-chan?’

‘what the hell do you mean what do i mean? you speak japanese dont you? so tell me what the hell happened during your date because it seems like shit happened and now youre both acting weird’

oikawa flinched at the blunt words but it was the truth

he was acting weird and this caused you to probably act weird too

god hes so dumb

but he,,, was going through stuff right now

it was a situation that he didnt want to involve you in 

and,,, seeing you dancing with natsu with the biggest smile on your face through the window of your house

okay guys dont think this is weird or stalker-ish bc i actually saw this in a kdrama ages ago and i thought it was just so sweet and cute and dont take it the weird and stalker creepy way :(

it certainly brought him pain

this was what he wanted though, right?

he wanted to see a reaction from you with his antics and he wanted to see you flustered and giggling like one of his lovestruck girls

but dear god that was when he became aware of your growing feelings

oikawa even saw it before you did with the way you gave him those longing stares and small smiles and the small squeezes of his hand when he would laugh

initially, he wouldve teased you for it but then he kept quiet

this entire time he knew you, he felt,,, love,,, for you

and by god, he was so scared

he wanted to run away

because he was well aware of his personality and him as a person 

he could make you smile the biggest and the happiest but he was also the type to make you feel the most pain and cause the deepest wounds on your already fragile heart

he didnt want that responsibility and burden

it was too risky

oikawa knew he was a ticking time bomb and he was afraid if you got even just a centimeter closer

you would be the one hit with the blast the most

maybe it was that sight that made him want to distance himself

it was a sight that made him realize that you deserved someone much better and that someone couldn’t be him

the happiness that danced in your eyes and the smile that decorate your beautiful face

can you imagine the irony?

the moment you notice of your growing feelings, the moment he decides to withdraw and pull away

.......

practice was,,, suffocating? 

the team knew of the tension these past few days and you both def were not the same

oikawa has not said he loved you or even pestered you once and as much as the guys hated seeing it, they were getting worried

did you both fight?

what happened?

when oikawa was talking with the coach and you were grabbing something from the storage room, they immediately took this chance to pounce on iwaizumi since he was the closest to the both of you

‘oi, iwaizumi, the hell happened?’

makki asked and the others nodded, wondering the same thing

but they were surprised when he shrugged

‘dont know. stupidkawa refuses to talk and i dont want to bother y/n bc she seems,,, weird about it’

if iwaizumi didnt know, then something serious did happen

you and oikawa continued this weird eggshell walking and you even gave up after trying to ask so many times on what was wrong and only to be answered with,

‘nothing~! y/n-chan should never have to worry her pretty little head about old me~!’

that answer didnt bother you

it was his smile

the genuine smile that you were so happy to receive as it was only for you

now seems gone and replaced with his fake one as if you now became one of his fangirls

what took the cake was his appearance to practice with a girl in his arm

they were both laughing and seemed trapped in their own little bubble to even notice the team’s wide eyes and concerned looks to you

you didnt even notice your teary eyes until mattsun quite literally picked you up and shouted he wanted to help you fill up the water bottles

he placed you outside, sitting on a bench by the gym

you were biting your lip and staring at the ground while he was leaning back and looking at the sky

‘the sky is very pretty today’

he complimented but it wasnt heard by you

you only came back to reality when he nudged you gently and you shot him a crooked smile but he sighed at the look of hurt written all over your face

‘oh, y/n, i am getting increasingly worried for our generation. theres so many sad eyes on happy faces’

he tutted and returned to gazing back up to the clouds

you scrunched your nose and scoffed

‘i dont understand you, mattsun-san’

you mumbled and fiddled with your fingers

mattsukawa issei shook his head and pointed above

‘y/n-chan, our eyes enables us to identify beauty and we have the urge to immediately capture it to remember that we did find something beautiful. yet, we feel hopeless as we cant to put the beauty on paper because we are only given one crayon to draw the sunset’

it felt all muddled

there was no sense in his words and you were sniffed, trying to understand

‘mattsun-san, did you eat any more of those candy makki-san bought from that one guy?’

he bursted into laughter and you couldnt help but quirk your lip at the sound of his joy

‘who knows? taka is my boy and i trust him so if he gave it to me, then,,,, it cant be that bad, right?’

you blanched

‘mattsun-san! im not about to go pick you up from the er again just because makki-san dared you to do something!’

mattsun finally wandered his eyes over to you and he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear

‘thats the thing with you, y/n-chan. youre quick to love others but you lose pieces of yourself in the process. i have no right to tell you who deserves it but please ask yourself, is that sacrifice worth it?’

you knew he wasnt talking about your love for the team

but for the love for a certain setter that didnt go unnoticed by the middle blocker

leave it to mattsun to make you laugh and you were letting out your last giggles as you stepped into the gym

oikawa stopped talking and focused on the two of you, 

more specifically,

you

he watched as you laughed and swatted mattsun’s elbow as he jokingly made fun of your height by resting his arm on top of your head

yes this was what it was supposed to be

you deserved someone who could make you smile and only smile

he doesnt even hesitate but even imagine the tears that would fill those beautiful eyes and he knows it would all be his fault

no

he will stop that from happening way before it would occur

he will do anything to make sure you will never cry because of him so he will distance himself and now, he gives up

it could just be his stress and insecurities talking but he knows right now,

he wants you away from him

oikawa tooru, the boy who could get anyone he wants, couldn’t get the girl he wishes for the most

dear god was it laughable

after practice was finished,

you quietly and quickly packed up the nets and picked up the balls to get yourself out of there

these past few days made you feel so much confusion that it hurts

if there was anything worse than him not talking to you,

it was not knowing why 

that curiosity and desperate need for answers creates wild and self-destructive theories 

did you chew too loudly when you ate?

were you boring and not as fun as the others?

was he angry and humiliated of his pride as a man when you scolded him for paying for you?

has he gotten tired of you now that he knows who you really are?

that last question suddenly created a new set of tears to appear

throughout the day, you were so composed and distracted yourself with the lectures of your teachers and not anything of why this certain brunette was avoiding you

but a single insecure question made that wall crumble and you hurriedly shoved the trolley of balls into the storage room and grabbed your bag before rushing out of there

you sniffled and hurriedly walked home so you could go and cry on your bed in peace

but ofc 

hiroshi natsu exists so ofc he distracted you when you entered the house with a red puffy face

quietly, he led you to the couch and he wordlessly grabbed a tissue box from the coffee table to dab away the tears

you sniffled and clenched your fists to will yourself to stop these dumb salty water drops

‘i cant tell you its going to be okay because i dont want you to cling on to false hope. but i know it hurts. its worse that of all people, oikawa tooru had to be your first ever crush’

he chuckled

you took a shaky breath and wiped your face

‘this was why i shouldnt have liked him. god! all we did was eat dinner and look at the stupid fcking sky! thats it! so why-! why do i suddenly like him?! AM I THAT DESPERATE?!’

you wailed and blew your nose while natsu patted your back

‘i mean,,, to others it sounds like youre easy to sway’

you looked up from the tissue to glare at him but he continued

‘but to me,,,, it sounds like it was just the last push you needed to finally see oikawa tooru in that way’

you nodded, laughing weakly

‘i dont know why im acting like a lunatic like this. hes just a crush anyway so it’ll probably fade in a day or two so bear with me until then, kay?’

but his grim shake of his head gave you no hope

‘rather than fade, it will grow. and i might have to bear with this for the rest of our lives. now you be a bad bitch and sit there and look fine as hell while i go order 10 boxes of pizza and load up teen moms’

the impromptu movie night distracted you a little bit from it all but you still couldn’t help but think about it

GOD WHY WAS NATSU SO DRAMATIC?!

BECAUSE OF THAT IDIOT YOU ARE NOW SITTING IN CLASS, BAGS UNDER YOUR EYES, AND BREAKING YOUR PENCILS IN HALF

all you have to do is make sure you think of oikawa doing something disgusting to make that attraction fade away

oikawa licking his toes

oikawa licking his toes

oikawa licking his toes

oikawa licking his-

‘y/n?’

you snapped out of your daydream when kunimi reached out to you

kindaichi, who came over for lunch, and him were staring at you in concern and they shared a look

‘y/n, something must’ve happened that day with captain’

kunimi started but kindaichi snapped

‘see?! this is why we shouldve never let you go! the first time you go with him and now youre a mess! tell us! did he force himself on you?! did he-?!’

you stopped the onion top boy with a forced smile and a squeeze on the arm

‘o-oikawa-san would never do that, kindaichi. hes better than that’

‘but clearly not because look at you!’

he shouted and you flinched 

kunimi hurriedly knocked him to the floor

‘get ahold of yourself, kindaichi’

he mumbled and you stood up and walked to the bathroom at the west wing that nobody uses so you could freely cry without any suspicion

was it obvious?

was it clear that you have been a mess after a week of being ignored by oikawa?

nah, youre just being a dramatic little shit

youre sticking to your word of quickly forgetting about the whole ordeal

but you definitely cant if your nightmare was happening before your eyes

as you approached the bathroom from the end of the hallway, 

you saw an unknown girl but an all too familiar boy giggling and rushing to get inside the bathroom

and for good measure, oikawa looked around to make sure no one was there but then he saw you

despite the distance between you, he could see your glistening eyes from the sunlight that seeped in from the big windows

he saw the way your hand trembled and your eyes twitched when haruna poked her head out to see why he was still outside

‘oikawa-senpai~~’

she drawled out and reached a manicured nail to his wrist 

your eyes followed her touch and then you and the boy shared eye contact

through the watery eyes, he could clearly make out your silent plead

please dont go to her

please

stay with me

dont go

but he went in anyways

------

that was the moment you forced yourself to not think about him anymore

as if you werent even working your hardest lately, you will work your hardest now

everything between you and him was now strictly professional as practice that day signified the very first day of your moving on stage

you couldnt believe these past 2 weeks has been a real nightmare yet you were slowly waking up from it

there was nothing you could do about it bc oikawa obviously didnt mean anything he said to you and maybe thats what ticked you off the most

you were easily led on

he blindly tugged you along the moment you saw his smile

he definitely thought of you as just as a game and when he finally got tired and bored, he dropped you and went to another

kunimi and kindaichi noticed the coldness of your eyes and the stoic expression on your face and they were genuinely terrified of you so they didnt want to ask any questions

even with packing up, you aggeressively shoved everything in your bag and the blep boy finally gained the courage and nervously tapped his finger on your desk to gain your attention

you swiftly dropped in your pencil case and looked at him

‘what’

he flinched at the cold tone and his eyes showed concern

‘uh-i-are you okay?’

he slowly asked and you visibly clenched your jaw but you nodded anyways

‘never better’

you didnt bother waiting for him to finish packing up and even passed kindaichi by the door as you were walking towards the girl’s locker room to change into your manager outfit

your entrance to the gym made the noise die down and you noticed the third years with glares on and aggressively practicing

‘whats wrong with all of you’

you asked and iwa scoffed before shaking his head and opening his arm

‘cmere. i missed you’

he said and ngl you were a little confused bc this wasnt something iwa usually did but you still stuck to his side

‘why-’

‘he told me what happened’

iwa whispered and you stiffened in his arms

‘w-what?’

iwaizumi flung the boy to his own bedroom wall

he huffed, panting at both the weight of oikawa tooru and the intense anger that burned through his veins

‘you-you are a piece of shit!’

he shouted and he moved to grab oikawa’s collar and lifted him so the brunette could see the fire and disgust present in his olive eyes

‘you think i didnt see what the hell you did? fcking leaving y/n sobbing as you-you-! AGH!’

iwaizumi couldnt even finish his sentence as he was so angry that he harshly sent oikawa flying back down to his floor

oikawa was crying

not from the beating

but from his regrets

god he knew he messed up

he shouldnt have done it

but he did

iwa ran his hands through his hair and angrily sat on his best friend’s bed, eyes shooting daggers at oikawa

‘right now. tell me the truth right fcking now or so help me god’

he hissed 

oikawa tooru shuffled closer to the wall and brought his knees up to his chest

‘im so scared’

he sobbed

‘im so scared, iwa-chan’

his tears were pouring down and he brought a hand to muffle his cries

‘i-i just w-wanted to-to see something out of her. li-like a reaction! because she wasnt like th-the others! but instead i fell in love! me! and she did too!’

he pointed and quickly stood up, pacing and gripping his hair

‘it was all just for fun! she-she knows im like that! yet she still fell in love with me!’

‘how could you tell she-’

‘BECAUSE OF HER EYES!’

even iwa flinched

‘HER EYES SHOWED ME LOVE! HAPPINESS! AN-AND YOU KNOW WHAT SHE DID?! WHEN SHE GOT HOME?! THROUGH HER WINDOW, I SAW HER DANCING! SO HAPPY SHE WAS DRAGGING THAT BASTARD COUSIN OF HERS AROUND! I DID THAT! I CAUSED THAT!’

there was so much confusion in this poor spiky haired boy bc he knew oikawa was in love with their manager so why is he avoiding her now even though she reciprocates those feelings?

‘im missing something here, oikawa. youre telling me, she loves you, but youre here regretting that?’

his tone of disbelief made oikawa shut his eyes in frustration

‘DONT YOU UNDERSTAND?! YOU CALL ME A PIECE OF SHIT EVERYDAY AND I KNOW THAT! I FCKING KNOW THAT IM A PIECE OF SHIT AND A FCKING BASTARD!’

he shrieked

thankfully, his family wasnt home currently to see him breakdown

‘SO WHY THE HELL DO I DESERVE A LITERAL ANGEL?! A GODDESS?! A BEAUTIFUL PERSON FOR ME?! A FCKED UP NARCISSIST EGOTISTICAL IDIOT?! AN IDIOT WHO’S TOO PRIDEFUL TO GET THE HELP HE NEEDS?! I COULD HURT HER! I COULD DESTROY HER IN A SINGLE SNAP! THE SCARIEST FACT IS I COULD DO IT WITHOUT THINKING! I COULD SAY THE WORST THINGS TO HER AND IM SO SCARED THAT I WILL HURT HER! I DONT DESERVE HER, IWA! SHE DESERVES SOME-SOMEONE LIKE YOU! AND IT HURTS TO THINK THAT BUT I DONT CARE! A-AND WHAT IF WE GET TOGETHER?! HM?! HOW LONG DO YOU THINK IT WOULD TAKE HER TILL SHE FINDS SOMEONE BETTER?! HOW MUCH CAN SHE TAKE OF GOING THROUGH EPISODES OF SOME DEPRESSED, INSECURE, PRIDEFUL ASHOLE LIKE ME?! HOW LONG DO YOU THINK SHE WOULD REALIZE HER SELF-WORTH AND KNOW HOW MUCH OF A SHITTY PERSON I AM?! I CANT-!’

iwaizumi pushed himself up from the bed and rushed to grab his best friend before forcing the brown haired boy to his chest

oikawa tooru was having a panic attack

he heaved and wheezed and loudly let out his cries and iwa made them sit on the floor where he could comfortably cry

‘youre such an idiot, tooru. but she knows that, doesn’t she? she knows who you are, what you are, how you are, your flaws, everything- she knows all that. yet she still fell for you, doesnt that tell you something? for once in your life, consider other people’s feelings before yours. y/n is one hell of a girl and i wont allow you to let her slip past you just like that. i know- we all know- how much of a broken person you are, oikawa, and it hurts us all to know that no matter what we do, we can never fix you. but y/n-gosh, y/n is the only person to even have a chance to do that. and you admitted that youre depressed and you have a problem? well,, get some help for that, oikawa. the first step to be better is by accepting the only person who can accept you for you’

iwaizumi didnt reveal to the other third years of what happened but just said that oikawa did a really terrible thing to you and hes currently repenting for it

however mattsun and makki pretended they didnt hear oikawa regretting it and focused on the fact that the captain even had the NERVE to hurt you

iwa squeezed you tightly and you returned the hug

but he whispered something in your ear

‘everyone makes mistakes, y/n. the only thing we can do is to repent for them’

you pulled away, about to ask him what hes talking about but one look from his eyes made you realize what he was talking about

he mustve known what happened but hes defending him

you clenched your jaw and looked away

‘i destroyed myself for a stupid reason and its one of my regrets. im not going to make the same mistake twice’

you quietly hissed and moved to your station by the bench to begin taking your notes

you noticed that oikawa was late for practice today and although you kinda hate him, you are still a manager first and he was one of your responsibilities

you were about to go to the coach and tell him you’d look for the setter when the gym door slid and in came the devil himself

but there was a large bruise on his cheek and a cut on his lip

your feet moved quicker than the rest of you that you were in front of him in a second

‘what happened to you’

you worriedly asked and oikawa just stared at you

his eyes shook and watered at the sight of you

this was the first time you talked to him without any coldness in your tone and he missed it

he missed hearing you

his silence made you roll your eyes and you roughly grabbed his arm before throwing him on the bench you were sitting on

the team watched, on edge of whats happening, but was put back to practice when you gave them a side-eye

your fingers opened the ointment and your kit to treat the bleeding lip and the swollen side of his face

‘youre the captain. its not wise to fight before practice and be late. youre hindering everyone else’

you coldly scolded and oikawa shrank back

‘it was iwa-chan’

he mumbled and you stopped and quirked an eyebrow

‘what? why did he-’

then you froze

iwa knew

and he beat oikawa up for it

he fought his best friend for it

and iwa didnt look fazed at all

despite being a muscle freak, iwa was very soft and his iron defiency made him prone to bruising

yet why was he so clean

it was like iwa hit oikawa but in turn, the other didnt fight back

no

you must stop

youre overthinking again and youre over analyzing it and youll end up at the place you were before

however

oikawa noticed the dawn of realization on your face and he shakily reached out to touch your hand

‘i,,, didnt. because i deserved it. i-’

he sniffed and you knew he would start crying right now

the last thing he wanted would be to cry in front of the others so you immediately stood up and went to the coach

‘coach, oikawa-san needs treatment that i dont currently have with me. i would need to take him to the infirmary’

he nodded and waved you off so you had the clear

oikawa flinched when you harshly grabbed his arm and pulled him up so he could follow you out the door

it was such an awkward silence between you both but you bit your lip, focusing on the fact that you were just doing this bc he was your obligation

it was like you threw him to one of the cots then you rummaged through the medicine cabinet for an extra cotton ball and a better ointment

‘i fcked up, y/n’

your movements halted and your eyes drifted down, looking at the tiled floor

‘i messed up so bad’

he hoarsely said and you could tell how much pain he was going through by the way he let out a shaky breath

‘oika-’

you made a move to turn around but he stopped you

‘no! dont look at me! just-just dont,,, i cant-i wont be able to say it if i look at you’

he cried and you nodded

oikawa leaned his forehead on his intertwined hands with his eyes on the floor before starting

‘i want to say im sorry. because everything, all of this, it all started as a game to me’

you closed your eyes tightly, tears welling up in your eyes

‘you,,, you didnt bat a single eyelash at me. you didnt try to please me, you didnt chase after me, no, you didnt see me like that. it made me,,, i dont know,,, confused,,, that girls like you even existed. it,,, not gonna lie, ticked me off and i was offended that you brushed me away so easily like i was some,, some bug on your shoulder. so,,, i wanted to see,,, and try,,, if i could make you,,, like me. and i know! i know its messed up but god y/n i swear i didnt want to hurt you. i just,,, i wanted to see if i could ever make you look at me like the way they did but it backfired. i wanted you to chase me but in the end, i ended up chasing after you. i chased and i ran without knowing that you were slowing down for me so i could catch you. that,,, that date made me realize of how,,, how perfect and beautiful you are a-and how unworthy i am to even receive anything from you. i saw how happy you were after that, dancing, twirling that poor idiot around. at first,, it made me so so proud. and so happy that i made you do that. i put those stars from the sky into your eyes and somehow you made them shine much brighter. then,,,, i got scared. i started thinking about,,, about me. and how i am. ive been trying so hard to please other people that ive lost sight of the real me and how terrible i am. and y-you! i just- y/n its so hard for me to explain all this right now- my current mental state, the pain on my face- i cant,,, but at that moment i realized that you,,, you were better off without me. youre so kind, so beautiful, so smart, you could go do so many good things in life. and im just going to hold you back. i didnt want to hurt you so i,,, chose to just cut the string now and,, we wont get hurt later. but,,, i regret it. i regret it so much, y/n. all my life,,, everyone cooed and awed at this child just because of how he looked like and,,, he got used to it. everyone wanted me because i am oikawa tooru but they didnt want the entire oikawa tooru. iwa,,, iwa hit it into my head that,,, you,, were the only one who bothered to even see that side of me’

when he finished, he looked up but gasped at the sight of you standing in front of him

fat tears were rolling down your face and you wore the angriest expression

‘i-,,,i hate you so much, oikawa tooru’

you seethed

your eyebrows were scrunched up together and your nostrils flared as you cried harder and you let out a cry

‘i hate you, i hate you, i hate you’

you chanted and oikawa saw his vision cracking

his world was now falling apart

he did the last thing he would ever do and you were now at your most pained moment

‘youre so selfish, impulsive, and terrible’

you whined and punched his shoulder at each word

‘but i love you so much. i hate you because you made me cry and made me feel so hurt but i still love you. why-why cant you stop playing your games, tooru? stop playing with me now! stop it! stop-!’

you didnt get to say anything else because he grabbed your waist and held you in his arms

it was like you didnt even weigh a thing by the way he lifted you to sit on his lap and he gently led your face to his neck

‘im so sorry’

he repeated constantly while brushing your hair and rubbing your waist

you and oikawa tooru spent an hour sitting on that bed just crying 

after a while, you stopped and resulted to just hiccuping

‘youre selfish, tooru. you listened to yourself and did whatever you wanted rather than talking to me. i hate you but i,,, i love you, oikawa-san. i shouldnt say that but if i dont, im afraid you’ll go ahead and do something stupid again’

he chuckled but he squeezed you tighter

‘i dont,,, want to let you go, y/n-chan. let me be selfish a little longer and love you all to myself’

and by god did he become selfish

it took you a while to get over your defensive and guarded actions from him but you were slowly finding yourself forgiving him

YO IM SORRY BUT I WOULDVE DROPPED HIM LIKE PLEASE WHAT THE HECK Y/N REALLY REALLY LOVES THIS GUY

natsu absolutely despises him still and whenever oikawa even comes over, hes always glaring at him and oikawa would shift uncomfortably but accept it bc he deserved it

‘i didnt realize how badly i hurt you, y/n. i could never imagine you accepting me still. ill spend the rest of my life making it up to you’

he promised and you laughed

you were both lounging on your bedroom floor, mean girls playing in the background, while just staring at the ceiling

you brought your clasped hands up so you could look at it

then a goofy smile settled on your face and you turned to look at him

‘just continue loving me, oikawa-san. thats all i ask for’

then graduation came

of course the boys were all teary but oikawa seemed even more sad and he refused to look at you the whole day

you figured it could just be him being mopey over not seeing you everyday like he was able to before

then you both were walking home and he still hasnt looked at you

the silence was killing you but you just kept a tight grip on his hand and he would smile at you and kiss your hands

it still didnt wash away the odd feeling in your stomach but you would talk to him later after you gave him present

for the weekend, you were able to convince your parents to go on a beach trip at okinawa while you made natsu go over to tokyo and stay with katsuki

oikawa didnt know your family was out so he stood by your door, waiting for you to enter

you both stood there, staring at the floor, not knowing what to say

until you softly grabbed his hand

‘come in. i want,,, to talk’

you mumbled and oikawa’s eyes widened, silently panicking that you possibly found out

it was a secret not even iwaizumi knew so you couldnt have known

right?

you led him up to your room and pushed him down to sit on your bed

FLKDSJFLKDJ WHY AM I DOING THIS WHAT IS HAPPENING SOSOSOSOSOSOSOS

ALSO Y/N IS NOW 17 ON THIS YOU GUYS LIKE BLS SHES ONE OF THE OLDEST IN HER CLASS BC HER BIRTHDAY SITUATION SO SHES BEYOND THE AGE OF CONSENT IN JAPAN, RIGHT?

oikawa was confused and he watched you bite your lip and look off to the side

‘y/n-chan? why are you nervous? you said you wanted to talk?’

he asked

but you unzipped your skirt and let it drop on the floor

‘for graduating,,, and working hard for these years,,, im giving you this’

you finally met his eyes

then he knew

oikawa blanched and he quickly stood up and placed his hands on your shoulder

‘y-y/n! uh-i-are you sure? a-arent you-’

‘accept it, tooru. youre,,, my first love,,, so,,,, ill give you my other first’

KSDLFJSDKFJSDLK OKAY YALL LETS STOP THERE FOR NOW AND GO TO THE TIMESKIP OKAY?

OKAY

-----

oikawa was running in the airport

despite the shouts of civilians he accidentally pushed, he made no sign of stopping and if anything, ran faster till he reached outside

the rush of his sudden trip home was clear as he was only carrying a duffel bag full of clothing he hurriedly stuffed inside 

when he met the orange ninja boy in brazil, he quickly caught up with his underclassman and got drinks to talk about japan the last 2 years of his career

they both got simple beers and some appetizer to share as they reminisced the past

hinata was excitedly talking about the reconciliation of kindaichi and kageyama and how they were still enemies on court but were now friends

‘eh~? tobio-chan making up with kin-chan? what’s next? flying sushi?’

he joked and hinata laughed

‘it was partly of your manager, oikawa-san! she helped them make up!’

the previous smile on oikawa’s face slipped at the mention of you 

‘hmm,,,, she always made the impossible happen’

he mumbled and hinata nodded

‘l/n-chan became close to kageyama through kindaichi and kunimi and she would bring us food and stuff too! but only on times she wasn’t busy’

the ninja said and dipped his chip into the salsa while oikawa stared at the liquid

‘you guys must be special for her to go all the way to karasuno’

then hinata said something that caused the brunette’s ears to fall deaf to the loudness of the bar

‘it wasn’t a problem since coach ukai took care of her son’

oikawa didnt even give hinata another word when he rushed out of that bar after overcoming his shock and straight into his apartment

there were tears that blurred his vision as he shoved in shirts and pants and other necessities for a trip to japan

he argued with the front desk lady to give him a ticket to the earliest flight to japan despite her saying that it was hard to give him a seat when the plane was full

but luck seemed to pity this baby daddy as someone pulled their ticket out and he was able to take it for himself

it was the longest journey of his life and his hour long layover gave him an opportunity to call the only person he thought would even know where you were

iwaizumi

oikawa paced at the waiting lobby with his phone pressed to his ear as he listened to the ringing of his call

he bit his lip in anticipation and ran his fingers through his hair for the upteenth time until finally it was picked up

‘damn you, shittykawa, do you understand what time-’

‘iwaizumi, is y/n still in japan?’

of course his best friend was startled with the question as the setter hasnt asked him any question related to you in a few years

‘wha-how the hell am i supposed to know that? im in california, oikawa’

‘dont lie to me. she still talks to you since youre probably the godfather of my son’

he hissed and iwaizumi was now fully awake and his heartbeat was beating quite quickly 

how did he figure out

‘oi, oikawa, listen to me she-’

‘please! dont!’

he shouted and didnt care if he startled anyone else around him

‘dont lie to me! of all people! you dont lie to me!’

‘why should i tell you when you were the one who up and ran? huh?’

oikawa fell silent and iwaizumi could hear his sobs through the phone

iwa sat up on his bed, leaning against the wall as he contemplated revealing this secret you begged him to keep since his best friend sounded like he was on the verge of breaking apart

poor oikawa tooru already suffered so much

‘i swear youre going to make me regret this. but y/n is in,,,, tokyo and,,,,, she,,,,,, didnt want you to know about,,,, about everything. well-she did want to tell you but she had her own reasons not to and,,, and its perfectly valid for her to choose whatever she wanted. and yes, i knew and yes, i am his godfather but please, oikawa, whatever you do, dont go to japan, you understand? shes still hurt by it, idiot, and shes angry and you sound angry and-’

but of course,

oikawa didnt listen and he hung up but continued his pacing but this time, tears blurring his vision

the taxi driver noticed his frazzled expression and quickly stopped in front of him

oikawa gratefully hopped in and quickly told the driver the address he forced out of iwaizumi (with great reluctance)

‘this is the last time, understand me, tooru? youve already hurt her so many times and i cant bear to see it all over again so you need to fix it. but you mess this up again, not only will you lose her, you’ll lose me too’

the old man felt sorry for the young lad and stepped on the pedal to get him to his destination in the quickest time 

the apartment building was several stories tall yet the elevator ride felt like a snap when he finally arrived at the floor your apartment was supposedly on

what the real kicker was when he stood outside your door and he hesitated

would you let him in?

would you even want to see him?

would you punch him?

would you cry?

he was so worried but didnt realize that he already pushed the doorbell and a faint shout from inside made his heart jump

‘UNCLE KYOOoooo,,,,,’

the door opened and the boy’s voice went quiet, knowing this wasnt the man he was expecting and he quickly and harshly slammed the door shut to his face

oikawa was stunned

was this the right apartment?

did iwaizumi trick him?

but those thoughts were wiped away when the door opened again and a girl was softly chiding the boy before turning around with a smile to greet the person but then it fell

similar to her son, she slammed the door shut and oikawa panicked

‘y-y/n? h-hey!’

he exclaimed and with a clenched fist, he stood there

you were hyperventilating inside

how did he find you?

why is he here?

does he know?

‘mama? who’s that oji?’

the bright eyes of yozora looked up at you and you blinked, briefly seeing the man behind the door at the face of your son

you sucked in a deep breath before smiling lightly

‘yoyo-kun, can you go play with dino-kun while mama and oji talk?’

yozora blinked back up at you before shrugging and nodding and running off to your shared room

once he was gone, you quickly composed yourself and opened the door again, shocked to see oikawa already half-way down the hallway to the elevator

‘would you like some tea before you go?’

you called out and he stopped, almost giving himself whiplash at how fast he turned his head

it was like his instincts took over when your voice started speaking to him

as if he was 18 again, oikawa found himself trailing after your voice and you nervously led him inside

his eyes were moving really fast as if he wanted to quickly soak it all in before it would disappear

this was where you lived

with your son

who was his son too

there was a picture by the door of you and the little boy from earlier

it was at the planetarium nearby and tooru’s heart bloomed at the sparkle in that child’s eyes

jesus, he was beautiful

‘yozora. thats his name’

you said, noticing him staring at the picture

KDFLJSDKFSD PRINCE NOCTIS LUCIS CAELUM BABIESSS!!!

‘night sky’

oikawa whispered

the teapot was still hot and you were able to pour him a cup so you both sat on the dining table where he sat across from you

‘n-nice place’

he stuttered out

you nodded, tracing the rim of your own cup

‘its natsu’s and katsuki’s actually. my parents kicked me out so they offered to let me stay with them’

you reasoned, not meaning to sound cold but it came out as if you were being passive agressive

‘o-oh? ho-how is he-’

‘oikawa-san, what are you doing here?’

he visibly flinched

calling him by his last name stung since you called him ‘tooru’ the whole relationship so returning to his surname is your way of cutting off the whole thing

‘i,,, i found out. a few days ago. from shoyo. he told me their coach looked after yozora and,,, i knew he is,,, mine’

you let out a humorless chuckle

a scoff

then you looked up to meet his gaze, oikawa gulping at the hardness in your eyes

‘what makes you think so? what makes you think that i wasnt angry and spiteful enough to give myself to someone else so they could have what the great oikawa tooru had? what makes you think that i would remain loyal to you despite you just running off to the other side of the fcking world without a word? hm? oikawa-san? what.makes.you.think.so?’

out of guilt, he broke the stare to his own steaming cup of green tea

‘nothing’

you whispered

he shakingly sighed and you could tell he was about to cry

but you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms

‘go ahead and cry, oikawa-san. im used to temper tantrums. i have a son for god’s sake’

‘you would never do that to me, y/n. you promised that you would always love me and only me and i know you take promises to your grave’

he reasoned but it sounded like it was him convincing himself

the dry laugh you let out made him fidget

‘and you promised that you would always talk to me and communicate. yours is a much lighter and easier promise than mine yet you get to break it and i can’t? no, oikawa-san. to me, its like that year never even happened’

you were now just trying to rile him up due to your anger towards him

you shouldve let him walk to the elevator and leave and never come back

but you still invited him in anyways

oikawa snapped his head up

‘you cant say that or mean it, y/n. that boy over there, hes a reminder of me. he looks exactly like me so you cant ever forget what we have’

‘what he had. it was simply the past, years ago, and everything has changed since then. dont you dare try to dig up buried secrets, oikawa’

‘but why did you keep him from me?’

he pleaded, desperate for any answer as to why

‘i had every right. the moment you boarded that plane, he no longer was yours. you left, i stayed, and you cant just come back here and-’

‘mama?’

a small voice from the corner halted your loud voice and you and tooru looked at him

oikawa yozora was exactly like his father

from his loud and obnoxious personality to even the brown hair and brown eyes

KFDSLJFKDS REMEMBER THAT KID FROM OLD UKAI’S VOLLEYBALL CLUB?! THATS WHAT HE LOOKS LIKE!!

he looked absolutely nothing like you and people even get confused when you say hes your son

um maam i think hes my son since he came out of me

so oikawa was right

yozora was your daily reminder of the mistakes of your youth but he was anything but that as he is the greatest thing to ever happen to you

yozora became your light when you fell into depression after oikawa ran away

sure, your parents absolutely loathed poor child as he is a child of a child

but you kept him because he means the world to you

and the world he holds are in his eyes

‘i,, i heard yelling,,, and,,, thought mama and oji were sad,,, so,,, i bring my,,, star book because,,, it makes me happy,,, and i think,,, mama and oji will,,, be happy too’

he mumbled out and you smiled at him before moving to go to him but oikawa stopped you

his eyes begged you and you glared at him, deciding to withdraw

if he decides to do anything, you could always knee him between the legs

he slowly approached yozo and kneeled down to reach eye-level

‘hello, my name is oikawa tooru’

he softly introduced himself and yozora just stared at him

‘you oikawa too? but i oikawa! mama is he me?!’

yozora shouted and you giggled, running to take him into your arms

‘oh, darling, how curious you are. oji isnt you, baby. he just,,, has the same last name as you. like mama has hers but you have,,, oji’s’

your eyes drifted to oikawa but he remained on the floor, staring at the spot where yozo stood on

you kept his last name

you listened to him from that night at the hill by naming his son after the night sky

my god, you are so,,, 

‘--the book. oji? do you?’

he was brought back to reality when your son was now back on the floor and poking his shoulder

tooru blinked and looked at him

‘huh?’

‘i ask if you want to read my book with me, oji. mama say she happy but you still sad so my book make you happy’

not even an hour of meeting him, oikawa tooru already loves him

the volleyball player nodded and yozora offered a tiny hand to which he accepted

‘this way. mama say to read so she make food. i like food, do you like food, oji? i like food. i like milk bread. mama say papa like it so i like what papa like. i want papa to come home. sit there’

tooru’s heart beat faster every word his child uttered and it even went faster when he saw yozo struggle to get up on the couch

the pair of big hands that brought him on the cushion made him happily sigh then uttered a small ‘thank you’

‘my mama say that my papa give me my book and say to take care of it until he come back. and she say he come back when im a master of space! so i study and read my book every day and know all so papa can hurry home!’

tooru didnt even notice tears falling down his face until yozo blinked up at him with his small hands grasping his cheeks to wipe it off

‘why you cry, oji? no sad! no sad! here! i read my book so you not cry’

he babbled and quickly pried the book open and read out the words on the page, not realizing he was saying most of it wrong

that book was oikawa’s

the book that he read all the time in the bus and now, it was passed on to his son

you leaned against the wall and gasped at the sight of yozo just babbling and oikawa crying

‘yoyo-kun? what did you do to tooru?’

you fussed and sat down next to oikawa

yozo worriedly looked at him and now his own eyes were watering and soon enough, you have 2 boys crying in your living room

GURL IM SORRY BUT I WOULDA KICKED OUT OIKAWA LIKE NOT EVEN OFFER HIM TEA OR ANYTHING IM SORRY IM TIRED AND IDK WHATS GOING ON

‘a-ah, y-yozo! yozo-kun! oji is,,, just,,, uh,, sad because,, because pluto isnt a planet anymore!’

yozo sniffled and he went closer to oikawa

‘me too, oji. yoyo sad too because pluto is just small. other planet are onii-chan and onee-chan but pluto is baby so they not like him’

he rambled and oikawa pulled him closer

‘mama, can we keep oji? nana-san and katsu-san will like him! promise!’

you couldnt even believe what was going on right now

not only did your baby daddy ex-boyfriend suddenly pop up, your son was now wanting to keep him

you made a move to of course deny his request but oikawa opened his mouth first

‘yozora-kun, of course you could keep me. im your papa, after all’

OKAY THAT WAS IT

YOU DID NOT WANT HIM TO SAY THAT TO YOZORA

out of shock, you slapped him across the face

causing yanno what happened

oikawa screamed

a/n: yoooooo SO LIKE THIS IS RIDICULOUS LIKE THIS IS BOOTY IM SORRY BUT THIS IS ALSO IN MY GOING TO EDIT LIST AND I CHOSE THIS OUT OF MY 10 OTHER VERSIONS OF THIS ROUTE AND I MAY OR MAY NOT RELEASE ANOTHER ONE JUST TO MAKE UP FOR IT. but try not to let this flop 🥺 👉👈

ALSO CHI THAT K+Y AND THE T+Y IS ON THE WORKS RN AND IM LIKE HALF WAY DONE SO I MIGHT RELEASE THEM BOTH AT THE SAME TIME

[sofwrites]

for the prompt thing; polin + 41

41: sitting close and knees touching | Also my entry for Polin Week Day 3: Modern AU

A modern twist on Penelope finding out about Colin's journals

Themes: angst, yearning, teasing | Length: 2.3k

Read on ao3 or under the cut | masterlist

Thank you for requesting! xx

He hadn’t planned on telling anyone. He really hadn’t planned on anyone seeing them. And he really really hadn’t planned on anyone ever reading them.

The only reason Colin had even started keeping a journal was to remind himself that he was a real person on his travels- that he had the power to leave something permanent on earth. That he wasn’t completely wasting his time flitting from country to country- desperately trying to find some sort of purpose in his life.

Again, he hadn’t planned on anyone seeing them.

But one day he was painstakingly hiding his journals in a deep, hidden corner of his laptop, and the next, Penelope Featherington had found one. She’d found one then read. And somehow, she thought they were good. Actually good. Not I’m-only-saying-this-to-be-nice good.

And, sure, it had all happened by accident, but after some time, Colin was so incredibly thankful that it did.

He’d been hiding out in Eloise’s flat (Anthony had texted about wanting to meet that afternoon because- well, it didn’t matter really. The fact of the matter was that Colin had no desire to do so) when the buzzer rang.

He ignored it and continued to flip through the book in his hand.

But then it rang again. And again.

And on the fourth ring, Colin finally groaned and forced himself off of the sofa.

It was barely a second after his finger had reached the speaker that a loud, rather familiar-sounding shriek rang out. “Eloise!! Eloise! Please tell me you’re there!”

With a snort, Colin cut the voice off and buzzed them in. And in roughly a minute (an impressive feat considering that Eloise lived on the fifth floor), he saw a bouncing bit of red hair through the peephole and opened the door.

“Thank God, I really need-” Penelope froze mid-step in the frame as her eyes traveled up to reach Colin’s face. For a moment, she just stared, her mouth parted open. And then she swallowed and gave a quick shake of the head.

With a slightly forced smile, she nodded and swept past him, looking around as she went towards the sitting room. “Is Eloise in?”

“She’s not,” Colin answered flatly as he casually leaned against the closed door. He kept an impressively blank expression as Penelope haphazardly rifled through Eloise’s desk, roughly blowing a few loose curls out of her face. “Looking for something?”

Penelope either missed or simply ignored the teasing tone as she frantically moved her search to the sofa cushions. “Did she leave her laptop here?”

“Don’t think so. Though I’m not entirely sure- all she told me was to try not to empty her entire fridge.”

Normally, that would have elicited Colin a laugh or an amused smile, but all Penelope did was let out a groan. A groan that bizarrely caused his stomach to flip. He glanced away from her, clearing his throat. ”Erm- but if you need a laptop, I do have mine.”

Penelope looked up at him with such sharpness that it caught him a bit off guard. “You do? Can I borrow it?”

He blinked at her for a moment, but quickly nodded and motioned to his bag near her feet. He’d barely muttered a “Course” before she’d already retrieved and set it on the table.

“Oh, password’s-” Colin balked for a second, his mouth still open. He’d never told anyone his password before, and it felt… Odd. Unnerving to give away such a private piece of information. But Penelope was looking up at him again, eyes huge and slightly feral, antsy fingers hovering over the keys. He rubbed the back of his neck before mumbling, “GregorySux. With an x.”

The tips of Penelope’s fingers froze as the corner of her mouth twitched, but she bit her lip as she looked down to type.

“He kept hacking into it,” Colin said in an attempt to justify himself.

She seemed so focused on the screen that he thought she hadn’t heard him, but, almost absentmindedly, Penelope said, “Don’t think it’s hacking if your password is literally Password.”

He gaped at her. “I can’t believe Eloise told you!”

This time, Penelope just shrugged in response, her attention completely taken away. The only sounds that filled the room were those of her lightning-quick typing.

He stood there for a moment, feeling uncharacteristically awkward as he watched her fingers work. And then he cracked his neck before nodding. “Right, I’ll give you a minute…”

And as he reached Eloise’s toilet, it occurred to Colin he’d never before been alone with Penelope- not really. He’d known the girl for over a decade, but they’d never really been friends. They were friendly and had spent a decent amount of time together, but there’d never been a real closeness, definitely not one where they could spend a casual afternoon hanging out.

But Colin had never had trouble with finding the right words to say, so it shouldn’t be different with Penelope, right?

He’d asked her about work- that was safe. And maybe how her recent trip with Eloise and Frannie had been- also another safe topic. After that, it’d be no trouble.

But when he reentered the hallway, Colin immediately noticed how quiet it had suddenly gotten- the air completely absent of any hasty typing. Silently, he peered inside the sitting room.

Penelope was still hunched over his laptop, her mouth parted slightly as she stared at the screen. The only movement of her hands was to scroll, but her eyes were running across the screen at an inhuman speed. He watched her for a moment, the corner of his mouth rising unconsciously as her lips mouthed a few words.

He felt intrigued.

Not intrigued by her- of course. But rather intrigued by what had entranced her so much that she couldn’t dare peel her eyes from the computer.

She didn’t react as he crept behind her, looking over her shoulder to see the screen. The brightness was a bit lowered, but he could see a Word document. He leaned a bit closer, eyes squinting as he read a random line.

Imagine you’re at a party, feeling weightless and invincible-

Wait- he recognized those words.

Colin’s eyes flew to the title of the page, which very clearly read, Italy, 09/03/19.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Penelope yelped at the sudden noise, turning her head so quickly that her forehead made contact with Colin’s nose.

“OW!”

And that was how it had all started. A frantic Penelope, a trip to the toilet, an accidentally minimized Word document, and a (luckily) not broken nose.

He’d been angry at first… Well, really, he’d been fairly livid about the entire thing. Not because he was necessarily mad at Penelope, who had accidentally opened the tab initially, but rather because he felt… Embarrassed. It was embarrassing having one’s little sister’s best friend accidentally come across their greatest secret.

But even though he wanted to forget and pretend it all had never happened, Penelope had been unrelenting. After an assurance that what she read had been good, she’d practically demanded that he let her read through the rest of his work.

And now, weeks later, here they were sitting next to each other at his kitchen table, two cups of tea and a printed-out version of his journal laid out in front of them.

“What was it you were trying to say here?” Penelope asked, her eyes rolling over a highlighted section of an Australia entry.

He looked down at the page, following where her finger rested. Instantly, he felt himself flush a bit. She was pointing out a particularly convoluted metaphor he’d written, one likening the magnificent sunset to the familiarity of reading one’s favorite childhood book for the first time as an adult.

“Erm…” He cringed, unable to say anything else.

It was still so odd- the not knowing what to say. Colin Bridgerton wasn’t someone who ever had trouble figuring out his words, and yet… And yet having Penelope had that effect on him. Or, more likely, having Penelope inspect his work, dissecting every word that had ever come out of his brain, make him feel insecure in a way he never was.

It wasn’t so much that it was Penelope, of course. She was his sister’s best friend, a woman he’d known since they were barely grown. It would have been like that if anyone else had seen his work, he was sure of it.

But even still- he found himself staring at a rogue curl on her cheek, his hand twitching to reach up and tuck it away.

“Colin?” Penelope interrupted his roaming thoughts, abruptly looking up at him. Her lips pinched together once she saw his expression, pulling themselves down into a small frown. “Colin,” she repeated in a softer voice. “I wasn’t lying when I said you were a fantastic writer. It’s just that everyone needs a little editing- even the best of us.”

His head tilted slightly as he looked at her, suddenly caught on her use of the word, us. “Do you write a lot then?”

Penelope’s lips slowly formed a smile as she looked at him, a hint of hesitation on her face. She sighed, taking a moment. “Well, actually-” But then she cut herself off, suddenly resembling the same shy Penelope he hadn’t seen in years.

Colin found himself leaning in, putting both arms on the table in front of them, desperate to hear the end of whatever she’d wanted to say. He could feel his knee bumping into hers, but neither of them moved. “What?” he prompted, surprised to hear how faint his voice was. There was something about the moment that was making it rather difficult to breathe.

Penelope was looking back at him with an intensity, mouth slightly parted as she licked her lips reflexively. There was nothing inherently seductive about the movement, but- But something about the way her tongue flicked out made Colin’s stomach clench uncomfortably.

“Uhm,” she whispered, only hearing the loud beating of her heart. No one knew about her secret, other than her editor. And it would surely be a disaster if anyone ever found out …

But she had found out about Colin’s secret, albeit by accident. It felt only right that he should know hers as well…

But if she were being truly honest, she didn’t care very much about her secret at that present moment. Not when the two green eyes she had spent her entire adolescence (and much of her early adulthood) pining over were staring directly at her, looking as though they could see through her entire soul.

Every breath was an effort, every movement was the most difficult task in history. The spot where their knees were still gently pressed against each other felt like it was on fire, spreading itself across her body. She’d been in so much shock when the contact had happened that she hadn’t moved away. And then she’d been astonished when he hadn’t either.

Penelope couldn’t even remember what they’d been talking about, and it almost appeared that Colin… That Colin shared the same sentiment.

It felt like she was dreaming. Somehow, he was staring at her with just as much intensity as she was to him. She wasn’t sure if anyone had… She was quite certain that no one had ever looked at her like that.

Colin swallowed as he stared at her, taking in every freckle spread across her nose and every loose curl surrounding her face. He could see her eyes clearly for perhaps the first time in his life- a beautiful shade of warm brown with golden flecks throughout the iris. And then his eyes unwillingly moved, flickering to her lips as she licked them again, causing his gut to wrench painfully.

And then he realized that his hands on the table were so close to her own, the one still resting on his forgotten journal excerpt.

Almost without meaning to, his pinky twitched, moving just enough to meet hers. His breath hitched as he looked back up to meet her gaze.

Neither of them moved, as if moving would break something fragile. As if moving would forcibly tear them from the moment they were.

But then- he wasn’t sure how long- Penelope’s soft eyes left his, darting down to rest on their touching fingers. And then her eyes widened, and her entire body jerked backward, and suddenly Colin’s knee was incredibly cold.

Her chair made a loud scraping noise against the floor as she jumped up, startling him out of the hold he’d been under. “Pen-?”

“It’s getting a bit late,” Penelope muttered through a quick breath, quickly stashing away her belongings. “I’ll finish this at home, and we can meet another time to discuss it. Maybe coffee- next week.”

Colin frowned, getting out of his seat, and taking a few steps towards her. Quietly, he said, “Or you could stay here?”

Penelope froze for a moment before slowly retrieving her keys, gaze firmly locked onto the ground. All he could see were her eyelashes as she blinked.

He bent down slightly and reached out to lift her chin. “Or you could stay here,” he repeated with a bit more reverence in his voice. “We could get some dinner and- talk.”

Penelope swallowed as her eyes rested on his face for a fraction of a moment, but soon enough, she pulled away again. Her fingers trembled as she draped the bag over her shoulder, shaking her head as she looked towards the door. “Erm, no, sorry. I really- really need to go, Colin.”

And then she all but sprinted from the flat, leaving a speechless Colin Bridgerton behind.

[jumpship90]

Random dialogue prompt: "Hello, nice to meet you…sort of."

I finally wrote something! It's for the fake dating AU!

The context here is that Phineas and Jaq work at the same lab – Phin as a scientist, Jaq as a maintenance technician. Phineas and the other scientists are about to attend their annual conference at the plush Eridanos resort, and, as lower staff members aren’t invited but attendees can bring partners, the two are fake dating so Jaq can attend with Phin. And obviously, they’re both head over heels for each other and terrified to admit it . . .

This scene is set the night before they’re going to leave for the resort. Phineas has video called Jaq at home to finalise plans, and he meets their housemate, Nyoka, for the first time. (roughly 900 words, so more under the cut)

As Jaq disappeared to greet the tradesman, they were replaced in frame by their housemate who casually slid into their chair.

“So . . . you’re the infamous Phineas Welles, huh?”

Infamous? Phineas wasn’t quite sure what he’d done to earn that particular epithet. Judging by the searching gaze Nyoka was running over him through the screen, he wasn’t sure it was anything good.

She was a powerful looking woman with an easy confidence about her that was offset by the cautious depth of her eyes. She appeared roughly Jaq’s age, though he found it a little hard to tell these days. The older he got, the younger everyone else seemed to look. He sat up a little straighter before the computer, doing his best not to shrink under her scrutiny.

“Jaq’s been talking about you non-stop.”

Had they? Well, that sent his mind spinning off in all sorts of directions. Had Jaq explained the situation to their housemate? How much had they said? Or perhaps they’d simply spoken about him in the context of work? Was that a good thing? Oh, law.

Nyoka hummed, as if reaching some sort of conclusion. She cocked her head at him. “Well, nice to meet you . . . sort of.”

The sound stuttered briefly as the wi-fi connection dipped out and the image of Nyoka froze momentarily. When it came back, she was taking a swig from a flask. Phineas tipped his mug to her. “Erm, nice to meet you too.”

“Thought you’d be . . .”

She mulled over her words and Phineas cleared his throat. “Taller?” he suggested, wearily sidestepping the obvious remark about his age. He was all too aware it was likely to be a common theme of conversation over the next week.

Nyoka snorted, an amused glint to her eye. “Hmm, maybe.” She settled back in Jaq’s chair, drumming her fingers atop the desk. “So, Doctor Welles,” she said, drawing out his title. “What exactly are your intentions toward my friend?”

Phineas blinked at her, jaw sagging uselessly as he fumbled for a response. Whatever was he supposed to say to that?

Nyoka raised a brow at him as he struggled for words, and took a long, lazy draw on her drink, now weighing him up. Her gaze was steady, curious perhaps. What had Jaq said she did again? He was sure he recalled them mentioning something about the wildlife park, involving carnivorous animals and caged vehicles and tonnes of meat. Phineas gave a nervous swallow.

“Well . . . I, erm -”

Nyoka didn’t let him finish. “Because one minute they’re all starry eyed, talking about some cute guy at work, and the next I hear, you’re taking them on a dirty weekend.”

Phineas near choked on his tea. “It’s not . . . I mean . . . It’s a conference! For work! . . . and . . .” Oh good law.

It didn’t seem Jaq was likely to come back and save him from this situation any time soon. Over Nyoka’s faint chuckle he caught the occasional snatch of conversation between them and the boiler repairman elsewhere in the house. It sounded as if they were engaged in an intense discussion.

“My intentions toward them are nothing but honourable,” he managed eventually.

“That so?” Nyoka smirked at him. “Not too honourable, I hope. Jaq’ll be disappointed by that.”

Phineas could feel the tips of his ears burning. Law knows why Jaq had felt the need to continue the charade of their relationship with their housemate, but clearly they'd done an impressive job of convincing her they were interested in him. He supposed that boded well for successfully making it through the week without their little deception being discovered.

“Okay, Doc,” she said eventually, raising her hands in surrender. Her smile softened at the edges a little and he got the strange impression he might have passed some sort of test.

Nyoka glanced over her shoulder briefly before lowering her voice and leaning in closer to the screen. “Seriously, though. Jaq’s not had the easiest time with dating and I’ve not seen them this excited about someone in a long while. You make sure you treat them right.”

Jaq had struggled with dating? His Jaq? The handsome, kind hearted, hardworking individual who shared coffee with him in the mornings and attended to his laboratory for him. Phineas fidgeted with his hands. That couldn’t possibly be right.

“I will,” he replied, still mulling that over. Nyoka’s gaze didn’t waver from him, her eyes narrowed and he paused. He might as well be honest, he supposed. After-all, he wasn’t quite as accomplished an actor as it appeared Jaq was. “Jaq is . . . Well, they’re very special to me,” he assured her.

Nyoka nodded at that.

“Alright,” she said, finally sounding convinced. She pointed a finger at him. “Just careful you don’t go breaking their heart.”

Phineas suspected it was considerably more likely he would be the one to end up nursing that particular wound.

“Because a pack of hyenas can eat a human carcass, bones and all, in a matter of minutes.”

Really? How fascinating.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he offered just as Jaq reappeared in the doorway wearing a satisfied expression. Nyoka gave him a final look that clearly communicated ‘I’ve got my eye on you’ before vacating their seat.

[toyboy-molloy]

reddie + the historical au part two that no one asked for

Edward had changed since he’d met Richard. Everyone had noticed but, unlike Bowers, no one else seemed to mind. The young ruler no longer wished to be called Edward, preferring the much less formal ‘Eddie’. Richard, or ‘Richie’ as people had taken to calling him, was setting into the high life very well. He often greeted the public kindly, offering fist bumps and high fives to random people. He seemed quite popular and it was obvious to many why he was sticking around, often in the new king’s company.

Eddie had taken to dressing down more often, choosing casual robes and attire rather than the fancy garments his mother had made him wear when he accompanied her. Richie enjoyed pampering and lavishing Eddie with gifts, despite the fact he had everything already. He’d once returned from the market with a gaudy ruby ring for him; Eddie had been delighted with the cheap jewellery and wore it proudly on his pinky finger. But the worst thing, besides the affectionate looks, lingering touches and lack of personal space, was the fact that Eddie insisted on promoting Richie as often as he could.

“What do you think about Richie being more involved?” He’d said aloud one morning, to his group of confidantes. William and Michael agreed wholeheartedly, having grown fond of the loudmouth. Bowers didn’t say anything, hoping his distaste was evident in his expression. Lady Myra looked positively disgusted, “perhaps even Captain of the Guard?”

Bowers scoffed, “I don’t think he’s capable.”

“And he would be away a lot,” Stanley said nonchalantly, feigning disinterest in the whole thing. This seemed to pique Eddie’s curiosity, as if he’d just remembered Richie would actually have to do the job he’d given him. He shrugged, “maybe a title that would keep him here. Like, King Consort or something.”

“That’s hardly appropriate,” Myra started but was silenced by a wave of Eddie’s hand. She huffed, folding her arms and storming out of the room. Not that he noticed. He was too busy thinking about Stanley’s words.

“You don’t think that’s too presumptuous?”

"Who cares? He obviously likes you,” William said encouragingly whilst Michael nodded along. They seemed to have forgotten that Bowers was there. He certainly wouldn’t encourage this behaviour. If Sonia could see her beloved son now...

Emboldened by his friends’ words, Eddie was soon hurrying off in search of Richie. He was buzzing to tell him the good news. He didn’t have to look far. Richie was in Eddie’s bedchamber, practising his royal bows. He was looking particularly good today, his hair wild and untamed. His grin was wide and wolfish when he noticed Eddie.

“You know I could get used to all this stuff,” he emphasised his point by picking up a grape from one of the fruit bowls, popping it into his mouth, “some lady said to me today I’d make a good king. I thought she was making fun of me.”

“I’m glad you feel that way because I want you to stay,” Eddie sat at the foot of his bed, watching Richie parade around in the new robe he’d bought for him, “for a long time.”

He laughed, ruffling Eddie’s hair playfully, “well, I wasn't planning on going anywhere.”

Eddie watched him fondly, unable to stop the soft smile spreading across his face, “I was considering a position for you.”

“I like the sound of this,” Richie wiggled his eyebrows, gracelessly leaping onto the bed next to Eddie. He rolled onto his side in what he hoped was a seductive pose. If the other man’s laugh was anything to go by, he’d failed.

“I mean I suggested enlisting you as captain of the guard but I don’t think I could bare to be away from you...and if you came to harm,” it struck Richie then just how much Eddie cared for him. In the short time they’d known each other, their bond was strong and unbreakable. He would lay down his life for Eddie without question. He sat up, suddenly much closer to Eddie than he had been before, “I would like you at my side permanently.”

Swallowing, Richie reached up to move a stray hair from Eddie’s face, “you mean like...a jester? ‘cause I’ve always wanted one of those hats.”

Eddie chuckled, taking Richie’s hand in his and pressing a soft kiss to his palm, “my people have accepted you, adore you even, my friends are your friends. You make me laugh, you have made my life better since I’ve known you. I feel like I’ve known you forever. And-”

Richie silenced him with a kiss so powerful Eddie thought he was going to drown in the pleasure of it. His hands flailed until they found Richie’s shoulders; he held tight, afraid he was just imagining the moment. When they finally pulled away, Richie looked just as breathless as he felt.

“Sorry for interrupting you and I totally feel the same and stuff but I really wanted to do that,” he paused, taking several deep breaths, offering a sheepish smile, “you’re not going to throw me in prison, are you?”

"Shut up, Richie.”

And so he did.

-

"Duke of his King’s Pleasure?”

Bowers raised his head from some royal documents he’d been in the middle of signing to stare at his king, perplexed. The royal was sitting in the throne (although he used the term ‘sitting’ loosely, more like draped across it lazily), watching Richie chatting to William with a dazed look on his face. Bowers cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry, your Highness?”

“Richie’s new title. Thoughts?”

Bowers resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was no secret what the king and his new friend had gotten up to last night; there were strict instructions for no one to disturb them and no one dared to. Bowers had spent most of the evening comforting Lady Myra, assuring her it wouldn’t last and she’d have her king. But even he wasn’t so sure anymore. It was quite clear to everyone that Richie was more than just one of Eddie’s passing fancies. Perhaps it really was true love. He shuddered at the thought.”

“I don’t think there is such a title, my lord.”

“Oh,” he paused, returning Richie’s enthusiastic wave fondly, “well there is now. We’re taking our first official outing today.”

Bowers couldn’t hold back any longer; he’d made a promise to Sonia that he’d protect her son but that didn’t mean he had to support him. He gritted his teeth, “if you’re not careful, your highness, people will start talking.”

Eddie finally looked away from Richie, frowning at Bowers, “meaning?”

"Well, they’ll think of you and Richard as...more than friends,” Bowers signed a final document, adding the royal seal. He made no effort to hide his distaste of Eddie’s lifestyle, adding, “it’s improper.”

The young king nodded, leaning back into his throne, “you think?”

"I do, yes.”

"So, I should be more subtle?”

"Yes,” Bowers sighed in relief, pleased Eddie was finally listening to him. 

He was beginning to think the boy was a lost cause. That he was still trying to punish his mother. If he had any sense, he’d settle down with Myra, have some children and forget all about Richie. Eddie rose from his throne and Bowers thought that was the last of it until Eddie approached him.

“I see. In that case, consider this: Richard, my one true love, High Consort, Coveter of the King’s Royal Backside, Divine Lover and Top Pleasurer. Would you prefer that?”

By the time he’d finished speaking, he was standing in front of Bowers’ table, leaning his hands on the desk, an eyebrow raised at the man in front of him. Bowers stared back blankly, considering his options. He could say what he really thought but that might end up with him banished or worse executed. He didn’t really believe Eddie that cruel but he wasn’t one to tempt fate. He sighed, defeated.

"Duke of his King’s Pleasure, it is, your Majesty,” Eddie smirked in satisfaction, fixing his outing attire. He’d made sure to go to the extra effort for his first walkabout with Richie. He was proud and wanted to show him off. As he walked away, Bowers followed, attempting one last effort to convince him to stop giving Richie stupid meaningless titles, “my lord, do you not think that Sir Richard the Wise, King Consort, Commander of the Empire, Master of the Bedchamber, Most Honoured Lord and Keeper of his King’s Love has enough titles already?”

Eddie considered this for all of five seconds before shrugging, “nope,” he flashed Bowers a happy grin and flounced towards Richie. He smiled as the other man kissed his cheek, taking in his outfit appreciatively. Eddie held out his hand, “ready, my love?”

“Hell yeah.”

[whatapunk]

Holy butts I wrote a second chapter!! I am soooo thankful for everyone who liked or reblogged the first chapter because truly, truly, truly you gave me more motivation than you could possibly realize! 

A couple things: 

I’ve included dialogue from the s02e01 scene where Kanan and Hera have a very Han/Leia hallway argument and I definitely don’t want to take credit for such things (I only wanted to add it to help me with my flow a bit)

Right now I’m firmly trying so very hard to fit it perfectly into canon (it’s just something I like doing, idk) but eventually it might go a lil more AU, I just haven’t decided yet

This shit had me on wookieepedia searching the most random stuff, but rest assured, there is garlic in the Star Wars universe

Enjoy!

Title: Endings

Fandom: Star Wars Rebels

Relationship: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla; Kanan Jarrus/female OC

Rating: t for now, m in future chapters (I'm guessing) for language and some non-explicit intimacy

Word Count: 2446

Previous Chapters: Ch. 1

Chapter 2

Kanan sat on the step ladder leading up to the Liberator’s control panels. His presence was a silent mark of informality in the middle of the crew’s debriefing meeting with Commander Sato. The rest of the crew, plus Ahsoka, stood around the holo-console in the middle of the floor. Sato was saying something about the Ghost crew- his crew- but Kanan was barely half listening. For one, every other word that came out of Sato’s mouth was some military formality and, thus, not something that interested him in the slightest. But the main reason he wasn’t listening was that Rhia Denley’s image was still burned into his thoughts.

Seven years. When you hadn’t seen someone in this galaxy for seven years, you started to assume you never would again. At least, that’s how Kanan had felt. 

However, suddenly she was here again- she existed again, something Kanan had tried hard to convince himself wasn’t even true. It was easier to convince himself she was something he’d imagined than for him to remember her and the way she’d crushed his young heart years ago. Besides, thinking about that heartache had always made him feel guilty once Hera was in his life. Now, however, he was feeling so many things he didn’t even have room for guilt.

What he did have room for was a hefty amount of bitterness, and for more than one reason. First of all, he was already bitter before Rhia showed up; he’d hardly hidden his feelings and had become almost spiteful about how they had been sucked into a military operation. But even that wasn’t totally separate from his thoughts about Rhia.

Rhia and Kanan had become a “thing” on Gorse, very soon after Kanan had set up what passed as a life there. Their meeting was by chance, but they had run into each other briefly when he was even younger and worked with a smuggler named Janus Kasmir. It was actually Rhia who told him about low-profile jobs on Gorse then, so he wasn’t altogether surprised that she ended up there eventually too. While he wasn’t much more than a kid when they first met, when they reconnected on Gorse, he was older and far more interesting to Rhia. They quickly became infatuated with one another for the better part of four months, which was practically a lifelong commitment to Kanan. Before Hera, Rhia was the longest relationship he’d ever been in. 

Rhia, however, had bigger goals than being a bartender’s girlfriend and working as a miner on Cynda. Rhia, much like Hera, was interested in the Rebellion. She’d made this clear early on, but she didn’t try to preach to Kanan, and he’d liked that about her. However, once she’d found a connection to a group of Rebels on the Holonet, she had tried- more than once- to get him to come with her. That’s what made running into her here, of all places, all the more exasperating and awkward. He’d ended up here anyway, despite his countless protestations- and he didn’t even want to be.

Seeing Rhia again reminded him, among other things, of all of the reasons he told her he didn’t want to join the Rebellion. And that reminded him that they were all still true.

Kanan heard Sato say something about the Spectres being “invaluable,” and then suddenly Chopper burst into the meeting, much to Commander Sato and Hera’s dismay. He was going on about an emergency incoming transmission, and, frankly, Kanan welcomed the change. His bitterness with this situation, this Rebellion- this meeting had reached its peak.

***

Less than ten minutes later, Kanan’s bitterness had already gotten him into trouble, and with Hera, no less. 

After telling Chopper to play his transmission during a “secret debriefing,” Hera had scowled at him for the rest of the meeting. He’d tried to rush out and get out of her line of fire once they were dismissed, but she’d caught him in the hallway and firmly let him know he wasn’t authorized to do that.

“Authorization! Procedure! That’s what’s bothering me!” he’d raised his voice, uncaring of the people that were attempting to walk past them as they argued. 

Hera put her hands up gently, sighing at having finally gotten him to drop the passive aggressive quips about their work lately. It wasn’t hard to guess what had been bothering him, but he was a grown adult who should be able to talk to her, of all people.

“All right. Talk to me,” she said, lowering her voice. Kanan sighed and did the same.

“After this mission, I want us to go back on our own,” he said firmly. “Fighting alongside soldiers isn’t what I signed up for.” At that, Hera frowned at him and shoved him into an open doorway, pointing a gloved finger in his face.

“You seem to be forgetting these soldiers helped save your life,” she said, looking at him with those big eyes that could be both demanding and softening at the same time. After that remark, he couldn’t meet them.

“And I’m grateful,” he started, “but that doesn’t mean I want to join their little army. When you and I started together, it was ‘Rob from the Empire, give to the needy,’ a noble cause. Now we’re getting drawn into some kind of military thing! I don’t like it.” 

Somehow Hera’s voice became more serious and more earnest.

“We are fighting a bigger fight, but it’s still the right fight,” she said, all but pleading with him to understand that they’d been fighting in the name of the Rebellion all along. Kanan wasn’t having it.

“I survived one war. I’m not ready for another one,” he said, turning away from her. She grabbed his arm. “I saw what it did.”

“To the Jedi?” she asked, almost whispering. He looked back at her.

“To everyone.” He left the doorway and continued walking down the hall, hearing Hera’s exasperated sigh behind him. 

Kanan loved virtually everything about Hera, even her flaws. She was incredibly stubborn, but since he was so go-with-the-flow, it never really got in their way. In fact, it practically complimented his own personality. She would get adamant and obsessed over something, and he would follow her anywhere and do anything she asked of him. At least, that’s how things had gone for them for the past seven years, right up until the formal Rebellion had rescued him from the Grand Inquisitor. Now it was suddenly a reality of Kanan’s world that he was part of a military operation and that could only lead to one thing: war. 

Hera had been familiar with war her whole life, but not in the same way Kanan had. He’d fought in battles as a young teen alongside his master, Depa Billaba and seen the realities of it all over the galaxy. Hera’s own world was war-torn, for sure, but her role in that war was far different than Kanan’s. For the first time since he’d met her, he felt like she was incapable of understanding him.

Kanan headed to the only place he really wanted to be right now: his quarters on Ghost. He felt like meditating, if only for the quiet. He lost himself in his thoughts there for maybe an hour, and eventually his sour attitude had at least subsided. He remembered his harsh tone with Hera and his obvious instigation of Chopper in the meeting. He still didn’t care about what Sato thought, but he felt bad for making Hera look bad. Now, it felt like such a childish thing to have done.

He left his quarters and, once seeing the Ghost was still empty, he went back out into the bay. It was less busy now, as most of the cargo that littered the area earlier had been taken elsewhere by now. His eyes scanned for Hera; he knew he should apologize to her. When he didn’t see her, or any of the Spectres, he set off down one of the hallways that he believed led to the commissary. He hadn’t taken the time to get to know his way around this ship (by design) so he honestly had no clue where to start looking for her. He’d gone pretty far without seeing anything resembling a commissary and was about to turn around when an amazing aroma hit him and made his stomach growl: garlic. 

Something told him to follow the smell, which led him down a corridor that opened up to a large galley. Standing in front of a pan sizzling on the stove, as Kanan had expected, was Rhia. She looked up at him, surprised, but then smiled.

“I should have known this would attract you,” she said with a smirk, then turned her attention back to the sizzling pan, stirring the contents with a wooden spoon. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to get me here,” Kanan added, grabbing a seat at an empty table near the stove. “You know how I feel about your cooking.” She looked up and grinned at him.

“The same way everyone does,” she said, confidently. She left the pan and attended to a cutting board with what looked like an onion and some kind of pepper on it. 

Kanan’s stomach growled again. Rhia was an amazing cook and loved every piece of food he’d ever seen her hold. She only ever ate ration bars or drank nutritive milk when she absolutely had to. Otherwise, she kept her own stock of spices and quality ingredients and went well out of her way (and budget) to get fresh produce. Kanan’s mind drifted back to memories of watching Rhia cooking in her kitchen on Gorse. He remembered breakfast with eggs and some sort of mushroom, watching her move her hands skillfully around knives and pans and the ingredients, often wearing nothing but-

“So,” Rhia started, pulling Kanan out of his memory. “You finally joined the Rebellion.” Kanan’s brow wrinkled.

“What do you mean by finally?” he asked, already feeling himself becoming defensive. Rhia rolled her eyes.

“Nothing,” she said, slicing into her pepper, grinning.

“And no, I did not join anything,” Kanan said, putting extra emphasis on “I” and jabbing his thumb to his chest. She looked back up at him as she scraped ingredients from her cutting board to the pan. 

“That was Hera Syndulla, wasn’t it? Captain of the Ghost? You’re part of Ghost crew, right?” she pressed, confused. Kanan was more than a little surprised.

“You’ve heard of us?” Kanan asked, his vanity getting the better of him and nearly allowing a smile to creep onto his face. Rhia rolled her eyes again and laughed.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Kanan. I’ve heard of Captain Syndulla, not her first mate,” she joked, laughing more at the fall of Kanan’s expression. Then realization struck her. “Wait, are you the one we just blew up a star destroyer for?” Kanan grimaced.

“Yes, but that wasn’t my fault. I didn’t tell them to- and it was Chopper who-” Rhia held her hand up, seeing him getting defensive.

“Kanan, I don’t really know anything about what happened. I wasn’t here for it, I just heard about it. I was on a freighter headed to a rendezvous. I don’t even know who Chopper is,” she said, going back to her pan.

“He’s our droid,” Kanan said flatly. “Anyway, my crew performed the rescue. I was aboard Tarkin’s destroyer.” Rhia looked up at him again, this time a little more serious.

“What was that like?” she asked.

“Not fun.”

Rhia didn’t push the topic further. She grabbed a pan of noodles that had been sitting over to her right and mixed them into the skillet with some oil. Kanan was suddenly fascinated by the chipped edge of the table in front of him. 

Satisfied with the meal in front of her, Rhia reached into a cabinet behind her and pulled out two plates and then matched them with two forks. She set them out on the table Kanan was sitting at and then divided the noodles in half. Before she sat down, however, she went back to the cabinet and grabbed two glasses. When she set them down the table Kanan looked up at her, arching his eyebrow. She went to a backpack that sat on the floor behind the counter and pulled out a glass bottle with no markings and a familiar light brown liquid sloshing inside. She poured herself a drink, placed the mouth of the bottle over his glass and paused, looking at him, silently offering the drink. 

“I can’t think of what goes better with your dinners,” he said, and she poured. 

As soon as Kanan took a bite, his memories were triggered all over again. He was pretty sure he’d never even eaten this specific dish before, given her access to such a wide variety of ingredients. But it didn’t matter. Rhia’s meals were memorable for some sort of shared quality that bound them all together, even when they were drastically different. Not only that, but he realized how long it had been since he’d eaten, and how much longer it had been since he’d eaten something of this quality. For a few minutes they ate in silence, Kanan unavailable for any and all conversation. Eventually, Rhia spoke.

“So explain to me how you haven’t joined the Rebellion?” Kanan sighed, but the food had made him quite amenable to discussing just about anything. He did, however, take a drink before he replied.

“I didn’t know we were a cell. I didn’t know there were cells. Hera was the only one who spoke to Fulcrum and knew of the larger operation. I found out when I was… rescued,” Kanan ended quietly. Rhia could tell that being rescued and needing so much from so many, made him uncomfortable. 

“That had to be quite a shock,” she said, sensing the need for a new subject. “So you and Hera, when did you two meet?” she asked. Kanan looked at her, surprised. He could tell by the way she asked, she knew that they were together. Rhia gave him a “give me a break” look.

“Kanan, really- my ‘pilot’? Shit, I’ve seen explosions that were more subtle.” She chuckled and took another drink, emptying the glass. Kanan did the same. Rhia offered up the bottle again.

“Another?”

Kanan looked at it, hesitating. He hardly drank at all anymore, let alone like he did when they were living on Gorse. However, depending on where this conversation was going to go, Kanan felt like he would need something more than blood in his veins. 

“One more.”

[svtxsoju]

02. morning glory fizz | dear miss soju

ღ Synopsis: College is hard. Love is even harder. Good thing the students of Mansae University can write in to Miss Soju, the campus’ very own romance advice columnist! The only problem is she’s never been in a relationship. Ever. There’s no telling what kind of chaos she may cause in the love lives of several of MU’s most eligible bachelors. Too bad no one knows who she really is! ღ Characters/Pairings: college AU! Seventeen & OC’s, Joshua x baking major!OC, and more TBA!  ღ Genre: Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life ღ Warning(s): Mentions of alcohol, suggestions of sex, language  ღ Word Count: 4.9k words  ღ Binu’s Note: a week late but better late than never i guess 😌 i’ve been avoiding tumblr to finish writing this, but i just kept getting distracted by choi seungcheol. hit that mf like button if you relate. i’m so excited for the special album y’all the teasers and concepts are so sadkfklsj i love seventeen

anyway, i apologize not only for the late update, BUT ALSO bc this chapter is also a lot of exposition again 😔🥺 i promise i’m done setting it all up and that some real shit will go down in the next chapter!! hopefully people will still be able to enjoy this chapter huhuhu 😭💗 if you’re reading this, i love u and i hope u have a good weekend!! 

《 ⊛ Author’s Note & Credits ⊛ Disclaimer ⊛ Masterlist ⊛ 》

《 Previous ⊛ Next 》

Having already completed the first half of her college career, Joohyun was well aware of the value of sleep. And yet, like most college students, she could never  seem to manage a decent sleeping schedule. She had only slept 2 hours when her alarm went off at 5:30AM. She groggily rolled out of bed, mentally cursing her past self for thinking that this was a good idea when clearly, the best idea at the moment was to snuggle back up under her covers and sleep in until afternoon. Only one of her eyes seemed capable of staying open as she pulled on her clothes and got ready for the day. When she suddenly heard the front door close behind her roommate, she cursed out loud, throwing her laptop into her bag before she rushed out the door. She half-wobbled, half-hopped along the second-story walkway while she tried to get her shoes all the way on.

“Bok Bongseon! Wait for me!” Joohyun called out in an aggressive whisper.

“HOLY SHIT! You scared me, Joo!” her roommate, a shorter girl with full cheeks and pouty lips, screamed at full volume. She clutched at her racing heart and leaned against the wall while she caught her breath. 

“Shut up, people are still sleeping!” Joohyun linked arms with Bongseon and dragged her down the steps leading to the street. It was still dark outside, but she could already hear the faint bustling of the mart located below their apartment. It was nice to know that they weren’t the only two people in Seoul insane enough to be awake at this hour. 

“I thought you were the ghost of my grandma, you bitch! You know she visits me in my dreams to tell me how disappointed she that I’m a baker,” Bongseon said indignantly, though she still cuddled closer to Joohyun when they were hit by the morning chill. Once they reached the street, they both headed towards the train station without having to say a word.  “What are you even doing up?” 

“I am simply accompanying my favorite roommate to work to make sure that she gets there safely,” Joohyun crooned sweetly, and made kissy faces at the girl, who in turn pinched Joohyun’s lips between her calloused fingers. She tried to protest but could only let out pained whines until she was mercifully released. “Ow!” 

“Sorry but I cannot fulfill your roommates to lovers, 12k slowburn fantasy,” Bongseon continued on nonchalantly as they climbed down the steps to the platform. “You had your chance, but I am a taken girl!”

“Oh, so you and Josh are together today?” Joohyun teased. Although it probably wasn’t the best idea, considering her lips were slightly throbbing from the girl’s attack. “I’ll just wait until tomorrow then.” 

“Wow, bold words coming from Miss Fish Lips.” Bongseon raised an eyebrow and smiled tauntingly. “Understandable, considering  that that was probably the most action your lips have gotten in your entire life. I could probably set it up on a blind date with my fist, if you’d like.” 

Joohyun’s laughter echoed off the walls of the mostly empty station, startling the only other person waiting for the morning train (an old woman, who was still half-asleep prior to being rudely awakened by two very loud girls). Bongseon often made some colorful threats, morning or not, but Joohyun was one of the very few people who could be assured that her words were empty. “Don’t you know that it’s rude to stare, lady?” she barked at the old woman, who was openly glaring at them. Everyone else, on the other hand, was subject to Bongseon’s sharp temper.

This even included her boyfriend of approximately 4 years. ‘Approximately’ being the key word, because the two often took breaks--  a natural phenomenon when one partner was easily provoked and the other loved to do the provoking. Jihoon had told Joohyun that the two had met at the cafe in their freshman year, when Bongseon came in as a part-time baker and Joshua was merely a barista trainee. They started dating within a month and moved into an apartment together in two. That went just as well as anyone would expect. By the grace of whatever entity that was chaotic enough to keep their relationship intact, they made it 7 months before nearly breaking things off for good. As luck would have it though, a new hire and his roommate were in the same exact predicament as them. Kind of. 

Joohyun shuddered to recall her freshman year when she and Jihoon somehow convinced themselves that it was a good idea to share an apartment. In principle it made sense; they had lived across the street from each other since they were in diapers. Two exhausting months into trying to irritate the other into breaking the lease first, they met Bongseon and Joshua when Jihoon started working at Smile Flower. It didn’t take long for Joohyun to suggest the switch— she would move in with Bongseon and Joshua with Woozi. Just like that, she saved both Bongseon and Joshua’s turbulent romance (temporarily) and her and Woozi’s fractured friendship (now thriving). 

She and Bongseon have been roommates ever since, and Joohyun knew her life was a little easier for it. 

“Joohyun, you better stop looking at me with those heart eyes before I really act up,” Bongseon warned. They had boarded the train, but hadn’t bothered to sit down since Mansae University station was only two stops away. 

“But I just love you so much,” Joohyun pouted, affectionately resting her head on her friend’s shoulder. “What does Joshua have that I don’t?” 

“A dick. And that’s about it.” 

“Damn you, heterosexuality!” 

Bongseon snorted out a laugh. “Seriously Joo, how are you awake right now? You’re only ever this lovey-dovey when you’re severely sleep deprived. I know you don’t have classes until 3PM today. You also don’t have your internship today,” Bongseon narrowed her eyes when Joohyun visibly tensed up at the mention of her current occupation. “Also, since when do you watch Youtube videos until 2am? And don’t think I didn’t notice that all of them were titled ‘Relationship Q&A’s’ and ‘I confessed to my crush and he said this!!!’. Got something to tell me, missy?” 

It was so quiet on the train that Joohyun worried that Bongseon could hear all the wires in her brain short-circuit. With Bongseon’s cross-examination skills, it was a wonder why she pursued baking instead of joining her family’s firm. Come on, Joohyun, just tell a white lie. Easy, simple. Don’t need to overcomplicate things. “Oh, uh I— um— well, I j-just thought they were entertaining?” She was done for. 

“Right. You thought random couples self-indulgently talking about their love lifes for 40 minutes with default iMovies effects were entertaining.”  

“Y-yes?” Joohyun threw in her most convincing smile for good measure, but it did nothing to soften Bongseon’s hard gaze. “It’s my new guilty pleasure, haha!”  

“Hm, interesting,” Bongseon was momentarily interrupted by the sound of the arrival bell. Joohyun eagerly pulled her friend towards the exit, hoping that the distance from the train could also get her further away from the topic. Unfortunately for her, Bongseon did not plan on dropping it so soon. “You sure you don’t want to tell me anything, Joo? About your internship?” 

Joohyun began to sweat. Was she really that transparent? “Okay, don’t get mad--”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m super jazzed that you’re getting into relationships and everything, but really Joo? Youtube? You could just talk to me if you need help talking to your new crush at your job!” 

“Oh.” Joohyun would have let out a sigh of relief if she wasn’t out of breath from climbing the mountain of stairs up to the sidewalk. “Right. Confessing. To my crush. That I definitely have.”

“It’s okay to admit you have one, Joo. I’m no  stranger to workplace romance,” Bongseon said, her breathing completely even. A measly flight of stairs was nothing compared to eight hours of kneading dough. “Who’s the lucky bastard, Joo?” 

“Well, I’m not sure I would call it a workplace romance, per se…” Joohyun laughed nervously. There was no way she could stick another clean landing if she kept talking. 

“Shut up, I bet that guy is in love with you already. Who wouldn’t fall for the only editing intern at The Front?” 

“Haha, I don’t know…” Probably no one, because the only editing intern at The Front doesn’t exist? 

Joohyun could not be more relieved to see the small store front of Smile Flower Cafe. It was one amongst the many cafes located near campus, but Joohyun felt like nothing really matched its comforting home-like ambience. But that probably had less to do with the soft wooden floors and pastel ceramic mugs, and more owed to the three years Joohyun had spent hanging around there, usually bothering Jihoon and joking around with Josh. 

The two boys already stood waiting at the cafe’s entrance, too bleary-eyed to notice Joohyun and Bongseon quickly approaching. “Hey, ugly!” Joohyun called out, snickering when both of them turned to look at her. 

“What the hell, why are you awake?” 

“Good morning to you too, Jihoon,” she answered, blowing him a kiss. “I’m actually here to see you, believe it or not. Don’t you feel special?”

“Oh? That’s interesting, because you told me that you came here for me,” Bongseon broke away from exchanging actual kisses with Joshua to look between Joohyun and Jihoon in a way that Joohyun did not like too much.  “I guess it wasn’t a workplace romance after all.” 

Joshua mirrored his girlfriend’s implicating expression as he unlocked the front door, simply because he knew it made his friends squirm. “Wow Joohyun, you woke up this early just to talk to Jihoon? You really couldn’t wait to see him, huh?” 

“Uh, yes because I need his help—”

“Ah, his help, gotcha! Come on, Bongseon, I’ll go help you in the kitchen while these two help each other out here,” Joshua snickered. Before Joohyun or Jihoon could roast the couple in retaliation, they had already disappeared behind the counter. 

After years of similar taunts, all Jihoon could do was shake his head. “Okay Joo, what is so important that you need my help at 6 in the morning?”

“I wrote my first response last night!” Joohyun whispered excitedly, taking out her laptop from her bag. “Well, a few hours ago. I wanted to show you before continuing on with the rest! Here, look.” 

① Dear Miss Soju, 

I just started my first year at MU and she’s an exchange student from New York. We met at a party and talked for two hours about comics, aliens, anything we could think of. It was perfect. She even asked me to walk her home. When the time came for me to make a move though, I kind of dropped the ball. Since we had just met that night, I didn’t want to come off too strong. Now I really regret it - I don’t even have her phone number. I feel like such an idiot! I can’t stop thinking about her, but I don’t even know if I’ll ever talk to her again. Did I make myself seem disinterested? Will we meet again? Will she even remember me?

Sincerely,

Big Cringy Idiot

She let Jihoon read the asker’s message first, then scrolled down to show her answer.

Dear Big Cringy Idiot,

You and your crush seem to have a lot in common. There is nothing wrong with being nervous around someone you like. In fact, it is fairly normal and is a good sign that you like this girl very much. She also seems open to any future possiblities, since she did ask you to take her home. You need not worry about coming off too strong in this situation, although I do admire your dedication to respecting women’s boundaries. I hope you are able to find this girl again so that you can truly tell her how you feel. Best of luck to you!

Sincerely,

Miss Soju

“Joo, that was…” 

“Poetic, beautiful, life-changing?” Joohyun grinned, and nudged her best friend with each suggestion.

“Boring. It was boring.” Joohyun’s face fell, and Jihoon could only offer the girl an apologetic smile. “Dude, you’re gonna put people to sleep if you keep it up like this. I almost took out a pillow to take a nap on the floor.”

“But this is how I write my articles— Informative and concise! How else am I supposed to write it?”

“I mean, that’s great for reporting articles, but this is an advice column. It’s supposed to be fun, sarcastic maybe. Like your promo piece! That was good.” 

“I wrote that as a joke, hoping they would fire me for it,” Joohyun admitted, eyes wide in panic as she looked at her best friend. 

“Huh. Well, I think it would sound better than this Wikipedia article you got going on,” Jihoon shrugged. “Try to be fun!”

“I am fun!” Joohyun cried out defensively, her nostrils flaring with passion. When Jihoon responded with a doubtful look, she let out a dramatic gasp and snatched up her laptop, stomping over to her favorite corner in the cafe. “I can be fun! I’ll show you fun!” 

 “Atta girl,” Jihoon’s signature cackle filled the cafe, further fueling the girl’s aggressive typing. 

Just another morning in the life of So Joohyun.

To the surprise of the cafe’s current occupants, a student already tapped at the glass entrance, clearly in desperate need of his morning americano. He had walked all the way from the freshman dorms after a restless night of tossing and turning. When his phone screen told him it was already 6:05AM, he decided to just give up on sleep altogether. So there he was, trying to start off his day right, at Smile Flower Cafe, only to be stopped at the door by the grumpy barista with the red hair. He always felt like the other one was way nicer, especially since he would go out of his way to sneak him free cookie samples and made pleasant small talk while ringing him up (what was his name? Jonathan?). 

  All the red-haired barista ever did was scowl at him when he asked for a student discount. Now, he scowled at him as he gestured at the sign that indicated that the cafe would not be open until 7AM. The fatigued freshman had half a mind to make some choice gestures of his own, but he refrained and just whipped out his phone instead. He gave the mean barista one last pout before turning around and walking towards the 24-hour convenience store on campus.

➠ [ to: vernonie 😌😎  ] Good morning king. Are you still on your shift ?

➠ [ from: vernonie 😌😎  ] gm seungkwan pls k*ll me 

Seungkwan took that as a yes. It didn’t take long for him to arrive, the entrance bell ringing lightly when he stepped into the small store. At the register sat his roommate, who was clearly fighting to keep his eyes open. “Wol-cuh ‘n—” he tried to greet through a wide-mouthed yawn. “Excuse me, welcome in! Oh, hey Seungkwan.”

Seungkwan answered with a grunt and headed straight for the refrigerated coffee section, choosing the largest can.

“Uh dude, you good? You look like—”

“Like I haven’t slept all night? I am aware,” He immediately opened his coffee and took a long gulp of the beverage in hopes of feeling even a little better. When it did nothing after 30 seconds, he frowned at the concerned cashier. “Vernon, I will not be paying for this drink, because it is clearly defective. Coffee is supposed to fix everything.” 

“Is this about your audition today?” Vernon asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Your monologue sounded really solid last night though. Your audition songs were great too. You totally got this in the bag!” 

“It’s not just about the audition, sweet Vernon,” Seungkwan sighed. “It’s about who I’m going to see at the audition. I still don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do.”

“Oh yeah, you are probably going to see them later.” For the past week, all Seungkwan could talk about was the theater tech sophomore that he had met at the theater department’s welcome party. They had sat beside Seungkwan and had helped him through all the fast-paced drinking games, and even took some of his shots when he kept losing. Surely, this was what love felt like.

That was what Seungkwan hoped anyway, because whatever it was made him feel all warm and tingly inside (or it could have just been the alcohol). Nevertheless, he had made big plans to confess to his crush as soon as possible. His dilemma for the past several days was merely a matter of how it would be done. “Not probably! I know for a fact that they will be there, because they told me that they couldn’t wait to see me,” Seungkwan let out a wail and slumped over the counter. “They’re the sweetest, most beautiful person to ever walk the earth and I just want to tell them that I would actually jump off a bridge for them. Why is that so difficult?” 

Vernon nodded sympathetically as he always did. “I mean, if you’re not ready today, maybe you could wait?”

“Wait?! No offense babe, but last time I checked, waiting didn’t get you anywhere,” Seungkwan said,  patting his roommate’s arm. Vernon cringed as he was forced to remember his own romantic blunder from the past week. “Clearly, we are both in major need of help. That Woozi guy’s show didn’t do anything for us! Also, we still haven’t heard from that Miss Soju character and it’s been what? Two days? If she’s such an expert, she would know that love is time sensitive!” 

“Ugh, I know. I keep refreshing The Front’s website just to see if she’s posted it yet.” Vernon sighed forlornly, which was a common punctuation to his sentences lately. “It’s getting me really antsy. What if she doesn’t even choose to answer our emails this time?” 

Seungkwan quickly covered the other freshman’s mouth. “Don’t say that! The universe manifests what we say will happen. We should ask for divine intervention instead.” He cleared his throat in preparation and threw his hands up to the sky. “O Eros, god of love, please shine your blessings down upon my and Vernonie’s love lives for we are but two humble, clueless freshmen in need of romantic guidance. Send down two of your swiftest, sharpest arrows, so that those that we desire may hear your soft whispers—”

Ding. The sound of the entrance bell rang once more, stopping Seungkwan’s prayer short, much to his irritation. “Is this a bad time?” the new customer, an ethereally handsome blonde, asked amusedly. He strode into the store and grabbed two spicy tuna triangle kimbab’s before approaching the counter. 

“Jeonghan hyung!” 

“Ah, Vernon!” Jeonghan smiled. “I didn’t know you worked here. You should come by my and Cheol’s apartment again soon, that was fun!”

“Hyung, this is my roommate that I told you about-- Seungkwan. And Seungkwan, this is Seungcheol hyung’s roommate,” Vernon said all while ringing up Jeonghan’s food. On the side, Seungkwan bowed sheepishly after unfreezing from his previous pose. “How’s your morning going? You wake up pretty early!” 

Jeonghan laughed heartily, shaking his head. “Oh no, I just finished an all-night stream. I just came by to get a snack before heading to bed. Seems like you two have been having a fun morning, though. Do you two always start your day off by praying to the ancient Greek god of desire?” 

Seungkwan flushed a deep pink. “Uh no, it was more like a cry of desperation. Vernon and I are having a pretty tough time confessing to our crushes, so I figured we should just try out anything that might help us. Nothing else seems to be working…” 

“Wait, that’s so cute,” Jeonghan cooed. 

“Would you be able to give us some advice, hyung?” Vernon asked. He didn’t know anything about the senior’s love life, but he did give off the vibe of someone who would know… a lot. 

Jeonghan’s eyes twinkled dangerously, a lazy smirk on his lips. “I mean, I could go talk to your little crushes for you, if you’d like. I’m sure I could get some sort of response out of them.”

One look at Jeonghan had Vernon and Seungkwan shaking their heads vehemently.

“No, we’re good.”

“Yeah, no thanks.” 

“Mm, good call.” Jeonghan took his food from the counter, and winked at the two boys. “I really wish I could help you both more, but I’m sure you’ll get what you’re waiting for soon! Today, if you want it enough.” 

There was something in the way that the senior stated those words that made Seungkwan believe him without a question. It wasn’t a naive suggestion or an optimistic prediction; Jeonghan spoke like it was the truth plainly written on the walls. He finally felt a long-awaited wave exhaustion wash over his anxieties, softening them until they fizzled away alongside the ebbing foam. All that was left behind were grains of sand. Suddenly, Seungkwan yawned,  and he wanted nothing more than to curl up in his twin bed at the dorms. 

“Well, I should be heading off to bed! Looks like you should be too, Seungkwan,” Jeonghan said, suppressing his own yawn. The freshman nodded in agreement. He definitely needed to rest up— this was going to be a big day, after all. 

“Say hi to Cheol hyung for me when you get home!” Vernon said. 

Jeonghan hummed thoughtfully as he made his way back to the entrance of the store. “I will if he’s there! He didn’t come home last night.” He turned to leave the boys with one last sleepy smile, seeming to laugh at something only he knew. 

“At least one of us is doing something right.” 

“Jihoon, why can’t I get this right?” 

“I’m sorry! This just sounds nothing like you,” Jihoon shrugged. It had been a rather busy morning, but things slowed down as it approached noon, giving him the chance to look at Joohyun’s fourth draft of responses.  “I’ve never heard you say stuff like ‘rad’ or ‘hella’... Like are you aware that you sound like a skater from the late 90’s?” 

“That’s because the reference I’ve been using is from 1997!” Joohyun huffed in frustration. She was already backspacing albeit with a little more force than necessary. “I wasn’t even born in ‘97!” 

“Exactly, so stop trying to write like that. What if you tried to—” 

“Eat my ass, Hong!” The sound of the kitchen door slamming open interrupted Jihoon’s (probably unhelpful) suggestion, and the two best friends watched as Bongseon stormed out of the cafe in a familiar rage. Luckily, there were no customers to witness it this time. 

Instinctively, they looked to the kitchen door, where Joshua stood with a resigned smile on his full lips. “Oops,” he said, scratching at the back of his neck apologetically. “Guess it was too soon to joke about our last break. Sorry about that, Jihoon. I’ll try to call in the head baker early to finish up the rest of the pastries for today.” 

He walked over to where they sat and plopped himself across from Joohyun. She offered Joshua a look of sympathy, but he responded by twisting his face up in a dumb expression, reassuring her that he was just fine. Still,  she couldn’t help feeling worried for both of her friends. No matter how many times Bongseon and Joshua broke it off and no matter how much Joohyun joked about it, she knew that their strong feelings for each other meant that it hurt a little every time they got into a fight. At least, that’s what she gathered from the various nights she spent soothing Bongseon while the girl cried into a toilet bowl, soju bottle still in hand. 

“It’s okay, Josh, you probably don’t have to worry too much. Knowing her, she’ll probably be back in 30 minutes to make up with you and then Jihoon will have to find someone to take over your shift,” Joohyun piped up. “But please take it back to your apartment this time, because I don’t make enough money to have every surface of my apartment sanitized again.” 

Joshua let out an easy laugh, as though he were not a man in deep shit. “Thank you, Joo. You always know what to say to make me feel better,” he sighed. “I should probably go after her. I’ll be back soon, Jihoon!” 

She waited for him to disappear out the door before turning to her best friend. “Wow, that’s gotta be a new record for them, right? I didn’t even know they got back together until this morning.” Joohyun was surprised to find that Jihoon had been silently staring at her for a good minute now. “...Why are you looking at me?” 

“What you said to Joshua,” Jihoon simply replied. 

“Oh, I was only joking about the sanitation thing. I just walked in on them once in the kitchen—“

“No I mean, how you said it. Maybe that’s how you should be writing your responses.” Jihoon grinned, watching as Joohyun gave him that look again, the one where she looks at him like he’s speaking from a third head. But he knew that this was going to be another Jihoon Genius moment, which seemed to be happening more frequently lately, much to his satisfaction. “Like you’re talking to one of your friends. I mean, it made Josh feel better, right?”

Joohyun’s eyebrows scrunched together and she mulled the idea over. Without another word to Jihoon, she began to slowly type on her laptop, gradually tapping faster and faster as she gained momentum. Her best friend giddily returned to his place behind the counter to tend to the customers that just walked in. He knew that once she got into a groove, there was no hope of stopping her. 

An hour later, Joohyun finally pushed away her laptop and waited for Jihoon to finish wiping down a table before calling him over. For some reason, she was anxious to show him the final product and even when he already sat besie her, she hesitated for a beat. Usually, her writing was professional and objective, always ending with a declarative period. She had spent years perfecting her reporting style so that when she presented the facts, that’s all they were. This, however, felt personal, like it was a part of her. And even though Jihoon probably knew her even better than herself sometimes, there was something so vulnerable about showing someone a side of her that she had only just discovered. 

And yet, she was curious to know— desperate to know: was it any good? 

“Well?” Joohyun watched for Jihoon’s reaction closely, both impatient and terrified to hear his thoughts. 

“Joohyun, this...” Jihoon started slowly. She braced for impact. “This is it. I think you’ve found Miss Soju’s voice.”

She exhaled. “R-really?”

“Yes, really. You answered the questions so thoughtfully, so you know it’s not just some generic bullshit you found on the internet. Plus, it was fun to read, like I think I’d read this even if I didn’t send a letter in,” Jihoon gushed, all while skimming over the words again. He turned to smile brightly at her, reminding Joohyun of a much younger Jihoon back in their elementary school days. “Most importantly though, it’s so you.”

Joohyun returned the smile, just as brightly. Warmth bloomed in her chest and across her cheeks. “Thanks, Jihoon, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Honestly, me neither,” Jihoon laughed.

“Um, can I ask you one more thing though?” Joohyun scrolled down to the last two entries, both of which asked for advice on how to make things official with a guy they’ve been talking to. The two letters were extremely similar in detail, but had been sent from two different emails and two different signatures. At first, she thought that maybe her judgement was muddled by her lack of sleep, and as the day went on, she figured her inability to recognize any nuance between the two letters was thanks her lack of experience. 

There was just something about the way they had described the boy. She knew that  intelligent, funny, kind-hearted, and unbelievably handsome were pretty generic adjectives. But what were the odds for both letters to also mention his infectious laugh and deep, dark eyes? “Do you think these two are from the same person? I’m trying to go for a confession theme for this article, so I included them both, but I’m afraid they’re too similar.” 

Jihoon read them over a couple of times, then shrugged. “They do sound pretty similar, but a lot of people go through that sort of thing. Also, so many people describe their crushes like that, but let’s be real, most of them end up being fuckboys. So trust me, both those people probably need your help. I mean, what’s the harm in publishing both, right?” 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Joohyun bit her lip, needing every ounce of reassurance she could get from her best friend. She read over her writing once, twice, thrice more. This was it. No more edits and no more excuses. Her finger hovered over the mousepad. “Okay, I”m going to send it in for approval now. Jihoon, you are about to witness me publish my first article for The Front.” 

Joohyun took a deep breath and clicked. Finally.

[misssunflowersandsangria]

Work in Progress Wednesday

Creators: work on or post something from your WIP. This is your weekly reminder to get something down on paper (real or virtual). It’s also a chance to share your progress with your followers and give them a sneak peek of what’s to come!

Fans: leave a comment on an unfinished fic and let the writer know how much you love it. Reblog an artist’s sketch and let them know you can’t wait to see the final product. Send someone an ask cheering them on!

Feel free to repost this image!

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Hello all!  I’ve been feeling...well I’m not too sure honestly.  Writing has been a little weird these last few months weeks so I wanted to use this just as a way to motivate myself a little with what I’ve already come up with and hopefully, it will push me to write/finish some of those WIPs.  Be gentle these are still really rough ... and if I do get around to writing them I might change some stuff around...

There are so many different stories that I’ve started that I might never finish so I wanted them to live somewhere.  

There’s a few ShikaTema, SaiIno and one ChoKarui (also some starts to my Lemonade Series so be aware of titles/notes)

**I’ll update this as new ideas come about.  They will appear first in the post. 

Previews after the cut. 

Knots (Part 3 of “Ties that Bind Series”- ShikaTema, Suna Sibs)

“I’m worried, she’s really sick.”

“Maybe it's like ya know.  That time of the month.”  Kankuro’s voice dropped to a whisper. 

“You idiot.  You absolute moron.”  Temari's voice shot back through the layers of blankets. 

“I think she's okay.”

“Temari, are you okay?”  Gaara asked carefully.  

She nodded her head.  “I’m fine.  Everything is just fine.  Why do you ask?”

“Well you’ve been locked in your room for days now.  You haven’t snapped at anyone or called me stupid.  We’re getting concerned.”

She sighed, taking a deep breath seeing the worry clear in their eyes.

“Shikamaru proposed.”

Their expressions brightened.   “Temari! That’s great, congratulations!”

“We should be celebrating.”  Kankurou stared at his sister curiously.  Gaara was right.  Something was wrong.  “Why isn’t Nara here?”

“I couldn’t say yes.”

Their eyes shot wide open. “Temari?”

“Shikamaru needs to be in Konoha and I couldn’t leave you two and Suna.  Who am I if i’m not Temari of the Desert?”  She knew that she made the right decision.  She couldn’t just leave her brothers and Suna because of something as trivial as love right?  This was the right thing to do.  She assured herself but then why did her heart feel like it was tied up in knots?

*

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Candles (SaiIno-One Shot)

The concept of birthdays had always been foreign to Sai.  He’d never learned the actual date of his birth and never realized that such days were cause for celebration.  So much of his past and the circumstances by which he’d become part of the Root were shrouded in darkness.  The one person that could tell him when his actual birthday was, was dead.

 There were little events that were celebrated in the Foundation.  Completion of missions, not dying on said missions were the two events in which he could remember “celebrating.”  Other than that there was little else that would be cause for celebration.

Once he started becoming more a part of the village he learned early on that birthdays were actually important milestones.  Whether they were small, intimate gatherings of close family and friends or large, elaborate events, birthdays were something to celebrate.  They were time markers and allowed the celebrant to reflect on all their past experiences and look forward to all the wonderful experiences that lie ahead.  Perhaps that was why birthdays were never celebrated.  No one in the Root had a clear memory of their past.  Each mission could be life or death so it was foolish to believe that there was a future to look forward to.  

Still, as he began to settle actual roots, and the path in which he wanted to walk a birthday seemed like an important element to have.  Everyone had a birthday, he deserved one too.  The actual date though was to be determined.  There were few actual dates that held any value so selecting a random one out of the year was difficult.  It also seemed strange to arbitrarily pick a date as well. 

“Ino?  I have a request.”

“Of course Sai, anything.”

“Would you mind sharing your birthday with me?”

“What?”

“I don’t know when my actual birthday is.  Such things weren’t considered important.  One day I’d like to find out but for now if you don’t mind I’d like to share my birthday with you.  It’s not something that we need to announce or even really recognize but I’d like to have a date, a number that I can put down.  I feel like the day I met you I was reborn in a sense.  That my real life started.  I can  understand if you don’t-”

*

**

Stolen (Multi Chap AU ShikaTema ):

Shikamaru watched her closely and saw the shift in her eyes.  Where she’d been terrified initially he noticed a kind of calm and peace.  He released the shadow binds around her wrists but sent more to surround her creating a maze of shadows and lines. 

“Don’t fear the shadows Temari.  Learn to dance amongst them.”

Temari with focused eyes and a determined spirit moved gracefully between the lines.  She landed in pockets of light and moved swiftly before she could become trapped.  He watched on enchanted as she leaped and moved effortlessly avoiding what he threw at her.  It was as though she was floating, gliding in the wind above the darkness.

*

**

Runways (Model AU ShikaTema):

Unrestrained raged swirled in Shikamaru’s normally soft brown eyes as he held Temari’s shaking body.  His glare was heavy on the cowering figure trembling on the floor. 

“My family will bury you.  I will make sure that you never work in this industry again.”

Temari was taken aback by the ice in his voice and all she wanted was for this night to be over and for life to return to normal. “Shikamaru...”  Temari’s voice quivered in a frighteningly unfamiliar way and his protective hold tightened.

“I’m sorry-” 

In spite of himself, Shikamaru laughed off the worthless attempt to quell his anger.  “It’s far too late for apologies.  I suggest that you leave now. That you make it so that no one remembers your name or face because by the time that I’m done you will wish that you never crossed a Nara.”

*

**

Stalemate (Mafia AU, ShikaTema)

Shikamaru’s midnight eyes surveyed the crash of sweaty bodies moving and pulsating to a heavy beat. He took a long drag of his cigarette overwhelmed by the sheer number of people and heavy bass. It wasn’t often that he made the trek out here often depending on his associates to check on their businesses.  His father told him though that it was important for the king to be seen by his people.  

For a while, his family had to operate in the shadows.  That was no longer the case.  The Naras, Akimichis, and Yamanaka’s ruled this area.  Government officials, police officers anyone who had “power” were all on their payroll.  Very few things happened in this city without them knowing.  Everyone knew who they were and they no longer tried to hide it.  

When he was younger he’d complained constantly that this was a drag. He never wanted to become the head of the Nara crime family.  It wasn’t his choice, it was his destiny.  Still, he grew into the role and had accomplished more than they’d ever dreamed. 

He didn’t delight in the benefits of being an infamous crime boss. The club was far too loud. The women who threw themselves at him were too troublesome. 

His eyes continued to scan the room before they fell upon one person his heart began to beat wildly. From where he stood he could tell she was a striking blonde but there was something different.  Something was drawing him towards her.  He studied her for a while.  Becoming increasingly frustrated as she flirted and smiled at the club patrons.  His hands clutched painfully around the balcony railing as he tried to keep his anger in check. 

He called his security detail over.

“The blonde bartender, bring her to my office.”

“Yes sir.” 

*

**

Protective Instincts (Mafia AU, SaiIno, Mafia Princess Ino, Bodyguard Sai *same universe as “Stalemate” ^)

The tension in the back of the SUV was suffocating.  The air heavy, anger rolling off of the man sitting next to her. 

“Sai...I-”  Ino began before being cut off.  

“Don’t, I’m barely holding it together right now.  I just need a minute.”

A beat of silence passed. “Are you mad at me?”  She pouted and despite how angry and upset he was Sai shook his head.  

“No, I could never be mad at you.  I’m mad at your actions and the stupid risks you take but no, never at you.”  

Satisfied with his response and sensing that he was calmer Ino crawled into his lap settling her head against his chest.

He knew that he should push her away.  It wasn’t necessarily appropriate for her to be this familiar with him but she melted so perfectly against him. He felt whole when she was in his arms. 

“I’m sorry Sai, I should have told you.  I just wanted a regular fun, night out.”

“But you’re not a regular person.  You put yourself at risk.”

“Sai, it’s one of our clubs, nothing was going to happen.”

“I can’t take that chance, Princess.  I knew that I shouldn't have taken the night off.  The person on your guard tonight is fucking dead.”

Her eyes widened feeling guilt crash over her.  She still had to learn that her decisions had very real consequences.  “Sai, no.  Please, it’s not his fault.�� I snuck out.  I manipulated and orchestrated the whole thing.  Please don’t take it out on him.”

“Ino.”

She forced his gaze to meet hers.  “I’ll deal with my dad if it gets to him. Please.”

“Fuck, fine.  He and I are going to have a talk for sure but that will be all.  I promise.”

Ino sighed in relief knowing that he’d keep his promise.  “Thank you.”

“Why did you take tonight off?  It’s not like you.”

He took a deep breath his fingers pushing back stray hairs away from her eyes.  “I just needed a break, Beautiful.  Clearly, it didn’t last long.  I can’t take my eyes off of you for a second.”

She relaxed into his chest.  “I like your eyes on me.”

*

**

Obscura (NSFW SaiIno- Lemonade Series) -Idea courtesy of @ promptmaker 

Sai grinned as Ino moved into the next pose. She was a natural in front of the camera and seeing that smile always made him happy. 

He’d purchased the camera recently as an attempt to explore a new artistic medium. Especially now that he had memories worth capturing. Ino happily volunteered to be his subject. He was thankful that after this he’d have a whole set of photos of his Light. 

“Great job Beautiful these look incredible.” He complimented her drawing her into a kiss. 

“Thank you, Sai.”  She paused for a minute before her eyes lifted back to his a playful look in those baby blues. 

“I have an idea for a for pictures if you don’t mind.” 

He nodded excitedly about the prospect. He enjoyed any time that they shared together.  “Of course not Beautiful, whatever you’d like.  Let me just adjust these lights.” 

When he turned back around he was surprised to see that she’d removed her top and was now leaning forward her breasts heavy and exposed.  A mischievous smile across her lips.  

“Fuck.”  He breathed.  So she wanted those kinds of pictures.

*

**

Main Course (NSFW ChoKarui- Lemonade Series -Idea courtesy of @ promptmaker

“I made you all your favorite food and this is what you want to do instead.”  Karui teased Chouji her honey eyes glowing with anticipation.  

Chouji grinned as his mouth descended over her delicate neck.  “I think that you’re mistaken Sweetheart.  You are by far my favorite thing to eat.”  She could feel his grin against her skin.  

“Besides, if you didn’t want this to happen you would know better than to make yourself look so appetizing.”  He countered his hands grazing over the skin that the apron left exposed.

Goosebumps erupted over her skin her breathing coming out in short pants.  “Well, perhaps we should have dessert first.”

*

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So that’s what we’ve got folks.  Actually even just making this post is inspiring me to finish/write!  Are there any that you’re interested in reading?  thank you for getting this far and for supporting me. 

[dreamcatcherfication]

Skin Deep - Round Two

Part two of my fic that no one’s going to read, huzzah! This is my Beauty Queens AU (which is a very misleading title but whatever) that immediately goes horribly wrong so... I hope you all enjoy it! Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, I wrote this through tears while watching All You Wanna Do animatics.

Writing Masterpost

If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas (now featuring random asks). If you want to be tagged in any of my works, just let me know which ones and I’ll be sure to tag you!

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Random Asks

Trigger Warnings: Talk about attempted rape and sexual assault, victim blaming

Part 1

It didn’t take long for the cops to arrive after Jane and Aragon called them. The girls were still huddled together in the judging room when loud footsteps echoed through the hall. Cathy looked up from her spot next to Anne and glanced at Jane and Catherine by the doorway. Aragon had her head out in the hall and was waving down someone - presumably the police - while Jane kept her eyes fixed on Kit. There was pain hiding behind her eyes, but she made no move to show it.

When the cops walked in the room, Cathy carefully peeled Anne away from Kit so that there wouldn’t be too many people crowding her cousin. Anne made a sound of protest but she let Cathy pull her away. Not even a machine powered buzzsaw could separate Anna and Kit though, so no one tried. There was a horde of cops at the door, but only two of them actually entered the room. “You girls okay?” one of the cops asked Jane and Catherine. The student judges both nodded and waved off the concern.

Both the cops were female, thank God, one dressed in the typical uniform while the other wore a suit, signifying she was a detective. The detective kneeled down next to Kit and gave her a kind smile. “Hey kid, how are you doing?”

Kit peeked out from Anna’s hold and immediately her eyes darted everywhere but the detective’s. “M’fine,” Kit mumbled, hiding the tears that were gathering in her eyes. 

The other cop was still standing back, but she was very clearly taking mental notes on the exchange. When she caught Cathy staring at her, the cop tipped her hat in acknowledgement. Slowly, Cathy nodded back at the cop. “Well we’re gonna take you somewhere safer than here, if that’s okay with you.”

There was silence as Kit thought about it. “Can Anna come? And Annie and Cathy?” she asked, looking over at her cousin. 

“Of course,” the detective assured the volatile teen. The detective stood up and scanned all the girls. She tried to appear warm and inviting, but the same cold, analytical gaze all detectives had was what she was wearing instead. “I’m Detective Bessie Blount, but you can call me Bessie. This is Officer Maggie Lee -”

Maggie jumped in, a much more natural grin on her face, “I’m her partner.”

“Technically you’re still an officer.”

“I should be a detective.”

“You would be a detective if you quit violating task force etiquette,” the two of them lightly bickered.

The ridiculousness of it made Kitty let out a small giggle, so none of the girls complained at the strangeness of the interaction. “Whatever, you’re still stuck with me,” Maggie stuck her tongue out at Bessie childishly. 

Rolling her eyes, Bessie returned her attention to the girls on the floor. “Two of you can ride with me and Maggie will drive the other two to the station.”

Sighing, Anne answered, “Kit and Anna aren’t separating anytime soon, Cathy and I will ride together.”

Maggie nodded. “Alright, you two can come with me. Bessie, you got them?”

“Yeah, you go on ahead.” Maggie held her hand out and helped Anne stand up. The three of them exited the room together, Cathy giving a small wave to Jane and Catherine who were speaking with the other police officers right outside the room.

Leading them out of the building, Maggie was surprisingly carefree for a police officer. Some of the contestants peaked out of their dressing rooms to watch Cathy and Anne, confused as to why police were in the building. Shivering, Cathy realized there would be a million rumors circulating by the end of the day. Finally, outside of the building, the girls were exposed to the fresh air. Cathy hadn’t known how constricted her lungs were until she was out of that building.

Unlocking the door to her car, Maggie ushered Anne and Cathy inside. “Alright girls, it’s only a short ride down to the precinct, but I know how scary it can be. If you need to talk to me or each other about something, don’t hesitate just because you’re in a cop’s car. And there’s candy under the middle seat if you want it.”

Without a second of hesitation, Anne reached under the seat and gasped when there was in fact a bag of candy hidden there. Cathy laughed at her girlfriend’s shock. “You hide candy in your car? Is this what Detective Blount was talking about with violating etiquette?” Cathy asked the officer.

“Hey,” Maggie chuckled, “you bust enough criminals for hiding drugs, you learn a thing or two.”

Stopping with a tootsie roll already halfway down her throat, Anne’s eyes widened. “Wait, are you saying these are drugs -”

“No!” Maggie laughed, “No, they aren’t drugs. I got them from Walmart. Geez, kids are so much more uptight than I remember,” she playfully joked. Turning on the engine, Maggie pulled her seatbelt on. “Make sure you’re wearing your seatbelts, I’d hate to have to arrest you for something like that.”

As serious as a situation they were in, Maggie was doing a great job of dispelling the tension of it. It made Cathy wish all police officers tried to be more friendly than aggressive. If she was in a murder investigation, she would tell Maggie far more than those men she always saw on the news. “Officer Lee,” Cathy started.

“Please, call me Maggie, formalities are stupid.”

More and more, Cathy was starting to see what Bessie referred to as ‘violating task force etiquette’. “Okay, um, Maggie. What’s going to happen to us?”

Watching the two teens through her mirror, Maggie frowned. “What do you mean?”

“We mean,” Anne picked up the conversation, “When we get to the station, are they going to question us? Is Culpeper going to be arrested? Is Kit going to be okay?”

Clicking her hand on the wheel as they waited at a red light, Maggie sighed. “Look kid, those are a lot of questions and I can’t give you all the answers. You and your friends are all going to be questioned so we can get a story. If there’s a case -”

“If,” Anne yelped incredulously, “If there’s a case? Of course there’s a case! My cousin was almost raped and you’re questioning whether that’s a case or not?”

Cathy knew Anne was prone to outbursts, especially when it came to people she cared about. Maggie seemed to anticipate this too, so she made sure to keep herself calm. “I don’t doubt you, but this case’ll probably go to court. If you don’t have a story, there won’t be a case and your cousin’s assaulter won’t be brought to justice. I’m going to try and help you as best as possible, but you’ve got to cooperate.”

“You said,” Cathy broke in, “that this will probably go to court. Are we going to be witnesses?”

Maggie made a turn before answering. “Yeah, all three of us will probably be witnesses, but you two and Boleyn’s cousin will be the most important. You two witnessed the crime and your cousin’s the victim.”

“Don’t call her a victim,” Anne mumbled, crossing her arms. Cathy reached out and put a hand on her girlfriend’s knee, a source of comfort in the small police car.

It was obvious Maggie was trying to keep a positive atmosphere, but it was difficult with the reality of everything. Instead, the three girls fell into silence and waited for the ride to be over. It wasn’t much longer before they actually arrived at the precinct and were brought inside.

Bypassing all the front desk sign ins, Maggie led the girls into a conference room. “We’ll question you two later, but right now we’re just going to get all the witnesses together before we start. It’s important to have all the pieces so we can build you a strong case,” Maggie noted. She left the room, leaving Anne and Cathy alone.

Letting out a loud breath, Anne sunk to the floor. “Cathy,” she groaned. “Why did this have to happen?”

Kneeling down next to her girlfriend, Cathy tried to pull Anne into a hug. “We’ll get through this -”

“I know we will!” Anne shouted, pounding her fists against the floor in frustration. “We’ll get through this just fine, but Kitty’s gonna have to carry this with her for the rest of her life. If maybe we’d been a little quicker, I could’ve stopped him from getting to her.”

“No,” Cathy stated forcefully. “Don’t you dare go down that path of thinking Anne Boleyn. You did your best. You stopped him before things could get worse and you stayed by Kit’s side.”

“My best isn’t enough,” Anne spat at the ground. 

Wrapping her arms around Anne, Cathy held her in a tight hug. If she could convey all her pride in her girlfriend, all her love in a single show of affection, she would do it at that moment. “Anne, you’re doing everything you can do, that’s what matters. It’s one of the reasons why I love you.”

An unintentional blush made its way to Anne’s cheeks, just as Cathy knew it would. “Thanks Cathy, you know I love you more than my heelys.”

“Isn’t it ‘you know I love you more than the world itself’?” Cathy raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but I already love my heelys more than the world. I’m putting you above my heelys Cathy, my heelys, you should be kissing me senseless for that,” Anne scoffed.

Shrugging, Cathy replied cheekily, “If you say so,” and brought Anne in for a kiss. It was a sweet moment of stability and happiness, something they always found in the other. Pulling away, the two girls kept their gazes locked, the love in their eyes palpable in the air.

They were interrupted by the door opening, surprising the two girls on the floor. Standing in the doorway was Catherine and Jane, both of them nervous and awkward. “The officers told us to wait here,” Catherine offered when she noticed Cathy and Anne. The girlfriends stood up and made their way over to the conference table, sitting down on one end. Catherine purposefully sat down on the other end while Jane sat in the middle.

Anne and Cathy didn’t resume their conversation, too worried at being overheard by their new companions. Catherine kept shooting Anne mild glares while Jane tapped her foot lightly. “So…” Jane tried, hoping a conversation would pick up. Nobody even looked in her direction, so she dropped it and continued with her tapping.

Later, the door opened again, this time entering Kitty and Anna, followed by Detective Blount. “Go take a seat girls,” Bessie urged. Kit sat next to Anne, immediately grabbing her hand. Anna followed behind her, sitting on Kit’s other side in case the girl needed her. Observing the full table, Bessie instructed, “While Maggie and I prepare the case files, feel free to talk and mingle. You aren’t being recorded, so don’t worry about any of that. I’ll be back soon.” And then she closed the door, sealing the six girls inside together.

At first, no one talked. None of them wanted to, especially with the tense air surrounding them. They weren’t here for a birthday party, and they didn’t try to act like it. Again, it was Jane who tried to break the silence. “So… we’re all here -”

“Yeah, why are you here?” Anne asked with a hint of aggressiveness in her tone. Cathy couldn’t tell if it was left over from her outburst earlier or if it was specifically intended for Jane.

It was Aragon who answered for Jane. “We were the ones who called the police, and we’re associated with Culpeper. We’re a part of this case too, Boleyn.”

Anne sent a sneer in Catherine’s direction, but Cathy’s warm hand on her shoulder calmed her down. “It’s my fault you’re here, I’m sorry,” Kitty muttered, her voice only heard because of the silence of the rest of the room. 

“Don’t apologize, dear,” Jane spoke before anyone else. “This is not at all your fault. We’re here to stop a sexual predator,” Kit winced, “and do the right thing. How could this possibly be your fault if you haven’t done anything wrong?”

Kitty seemed at a loss for words, but everyone else was too afraid to speak up. “I followed him into the room. I let him touch me.”

“You told him to stop,” Anne cut in.

“We heard it,” Cathy added, reaching across Anne to add her hand to the cousins’ intertwined ones.

Shrugging, Kit didn’t seem particularly convinced. “I could have tried harder. He just,” she started to shiver. Anna put her arms around Kit and let the girl rest against her. “He just started touching and I didn’t know what to do. He had been so nice during the other rounds, giving me presents when I won. I thought he was being nice because he thought I was talented. But he locked that door and,” her breath hitched in her throat, “he started tearing and ripping at my clothes, and I didn’t want him on me like that.” Her voice was shaking, the syllables broken and pitiful.

It was breaking Cathy’s heart to see Kit so torn up about Culpeper. In only a few moments he had torn her apart, leaving her scared and shameful of something that wasn’t her fault. Cathy could tell by the way Anne tensed up that her girlfriend was concealing fiery anger towards Culpeper. “He’ll be brought to justice, I promise,” Aragon gritted through her teeth. “My parents have a team of expert lawyers, he doesn’t stand a chance.”

“You have lawyers?” Anna gasped, “Girl I don’t even have lunch money.” Kitty let out a small laugh, knowing full well that Anna had plenty of lunch money - so much so that she saved it up and bought a sports car just so she could take up two spaces while parking to annoy some of the high school students who made fun of Kitty. (In reality, Anna much preferred her truck that she had made so many memories in). 

Cathy noticed the way Kit perked up at Anna’s joke, so she nudged Anne, gaining her attention. “You think lunch money’s bad? Anne saved up three years worth of birthday money just to buy heelys!”

Again, Kitty was giggling at the absurdness of their claims. Jane and Aragon were catching onto the game, so they started to play along. “You get birthday money?” Jane asked. “I’m the Cinderella of my house. I do chores all day and I don’t even earn minimum wage!”

None of the jokes were particularly funny, but it felt good to be able to laugh when there was so much tension around them. Being dumb teenagers did in fact (despite what adults might say) have its benefits. “Chores are the worst,” Anne grumbled, playing up her annoyance. “They go ‘clean this, clean that’ but never do they say ‘this needs to be dirty’. Why can’t we have dirty things!?”

“Because that’s unsanitary babe,” Cathy explained, a twinkle in her eyes.

Scrunching her nose, Kitty gave Anne a disgusted look. “Yeah, remember when you tried to take us out for a picnic, but you thought washing the plates in lake water would clean them?”

“I’m sorry, she did what?” Aragon asked, her mouth agape.

“Mhmm,” Anna confirmed, “nearly got us all sick with whatever was in the water too.”

“I’d give her a 3/10 on Yelp reviews,” Cathy added.

Gasping in mock hurt, Anne turned to her girlfriend. “Only a 3 out of 10? Cathy, you wound me. I thought I was better than that.”

“Please, we all know Kit’s the ten amongst us threes,” Anna continued to tease Anne.

“There’s a reason she was going to win the pageant,” Jane confirmed from her spot at the table.

Everyone turned to look at her. “She was going to win?” Anne asked.

Smiling nervously and looking at Catherine, Jane nodded. “She’s an audience favorite, no one else got as many cheers as Katherine Howard. Besides, the counting was already done as soon as the last vote was in.” Cathy could tell Anne was internally cursing that her cheating plan wouldn’t have worked, but she was still glad Kitty had won.

“You hear that Kit, you’re a winner,” Anna told her.

Even as she tried to hide it, a smile grew on Kit’s face. “At least that’s one good thing.”

-------------------------------------

Tag list:

@annabanana2401

[sparklingskz]

long way home | yang jeongin

▸ genre: college au, fluff, a bit of angst

▸ description: jeongin and you walked to and from college together evey day, until one day when he didn’t show up.

▸ word count: 2.8k

▸ warnings: swearing

▸ a/n: some soft jeongin for ya ! also if i take longer in between posts im really sorry but finding time to write is hard these days:((( (ps. title by 5sos!!)

you (14:35): where are you i’m tired i want to go HOME

jeonginnie (14:36): wow CHILL i’m heading out now

you (14:36): okay (◕‿◕✿)

Putting your phone back in your pocket, you crossed your arms as you tried to catch sight of the blonde haired boy you were eagerly waiting for. People went in and out of the university doors chatting animatedly with each other, some of them sprawling on top of the grass that filled the gardens and others just heading quickly towards the streets that led away from campus. It was the end of the school day for a lot of people, including you, so the only thing you wanted to do at the moment was to get home, lay down on your bed and ignore all your responsibilities for a few hours.

Sadly, you wouldn’t be able to do that until Jeongin joined you at the entrance of your campus so you could walk home together. You see, the both of you had developed this tradition of some sort, where you would walk together to and from college every day.

It all had started when one day you walked out of campus only to find out that it was raining pretty badly and, due to your luck, you weren’t carrying an umbrella with you. Walking home was your only option, so you put on your hoodie and prepared yourself for the fact that you would get soaked head to toe. Trying to walk as fast as you can, you spotted someone who was walking in the same direction as you and that was protected under an umbrella, and you threw away every bit of shame you had and tried to catch their attention.

That person turned out to be Jeongin, who happily shared his umbrella with you after finding out that you lived very close to each other. He walked with you all the way to the door of your house, making sure that you didn’t get rained on more than you already had.

The next morning you happened to run into him again when walking towards your university, which led you to find out that he was also a student there. You stayed together the whole way there, chatting about random topics and ultimately deciding to also walk back home together after class, because it turns out that you had pretty similar schedules despite not being in the same classes.

After a while, this became your usual routine. Every morning you would wake up looking forward to spending that little amount of time with Jeongin, as you had bonded pretty quickly with the boy and his company was something that you found yourself enjoying. All his little mannerisms and quirks made you smile fondly, and conversations were something that just flowed between you two. You already knew so much about him and you had also shared many things about you during your time together, which in return made trusting him all the more easier.

Jeongin also insisted on the fact that he absolutely had to walk you all the way to your door, even though he then had to head back a little to take the route he used to get to his own house. He assured you that he wasn’t bothered by the extra distance he had to walk, so you stopped trying to convince him you were fine walking alone for a bit and just let him do it (in all honesty, it was cute).

Overall, you really appreciated the boy and his company, which is why your face lit up after catching sight of him practically sprinting out of the university doors and heading towards where you were waiting for him (while almost bumping into a bunch of people, but who cares).

“Hey,” he said before stopping right in front of you, placing his hand on his chest while trying to catch his breath. “Sorry for making you wait, I had to stay back and ask the professor something related to our next test. Ugh, I really need a break from everything,” he whined.

You sympathized with that. “Well, let’s get going, then. The further away we are from here the less we have to think about classes, tests and boring professors,” you affirmed while starting to walk in the direction of your house, Jeongin joining your side immediately.

You fell into an easy conversation right away, sharing details and stories about your day like you usually did. The walk home was a comfortable one, the both of you trying to make the other forget about the fact that you had to come back to university the following day.

The gloomy weather you had experienced the past days was thankfully replaced by the sensation of faint sun rays against your skin, a pleasant wind accompanying your walk home and sweeping back Jeongin’s hair, making him look like a prince you could find in one of those Disney movies.

It was hard to look away during the rest of the way home.

-

Jeongin was avoiding you.

You weren't really sure about why he was doing it, you just knew that for the most part of the last week there had been times he texted you to let you know that he had headed over to college earlier, or that he wasn't going to walk home with you that evening. It's not like you had signed a contract that said that you would walk towards your campus and then head home together every single day, but it was like this unspoken agreement you both just had, and Jeongin suddenly deciding to walk alone with no apparent reason was just odd.

One day, before you could recieve a text from Jeongin saying he was ditching you again, you spotted him right outside of campus talking to Kim Seungmin, who you knew was one of his closest friends. They didn't seem to be having a very serious conversation, so before you could think your actions through, you were heading over to where they were standing with a firm step.

Well, looks like you were about to confront Jeongin. To be honest, you just wanted to know if you had done something that could've maybe upset the boy, and you would try to get those answers even if Seungmin was standing right there.

When you got to where the two boys were standing, you watched as the both of them put a halt to their conversation and turned to look at you.

"Hi guys!" you said, earning a cheerful "Hi" from Seungmin accompanied by a small wave. Jeongin, on the other hand, looked at you with an expression that showed hints of the surprise he felt at the moment (probably due to the fact that you had approached them), and muttered a small "Hey".

You felt the tiniest bit of nervousness replacing your previous determined state, the lack of contact with the blonde haired boy probably taking a toll on you. "Um, Jeongin, are you busy now? Maybe we can walk back home together?" you asked.

Before Jeongin had a chance to reply, though, Seungmin jumped in to answer your question.

"Of course he will!" he exclaimed right as he placed his hand on the other boy's shoulder in an encouraging manner. "I've been stealing him so he could keep me company every day after class, so it's only fair that he goes with you now."

You watched as Jeongin turned to look at Seungmin with wide eyes, shock evident in his features. He looked like he was trying to convey something without using any words, but Seungmin didn't look fazed by his friend's reaction and just flashed an amused smile at him.

"Go!" He nugded Jeongin with his arm, prompting him to move towards you. 

Even if you felt confused by the whole exchange between them, you didn't say anything. Jeongin started heading in the direction that led to your houses, and you barely had time to wave Seungmin goodbye before going up to catch up with him.

A weird atmosphere surrounded you two, as if you had forgotten the way you guys interacted before this whole thing happened. This only sparked more confusion on your side, wondering why the boy flinched so bad when your hands accidentally brushed or why did he walk so fast, almost as if wanting to put some distance between you two.

This continued as you walked in complete silence for a few more minutes. You tought about how you desperately wanted to go back to the times where you guys would just crack jokes, talk about anything and everything and be comfortable around each other.

You'd only be able to do that if you found out what was wrong, though. And if he didn't initiate the conversation, you would have to be the one to do it.

"Hey, uh." You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, feeling him flinch a little bit because of the sudden sound of your voice. "I know things are weird between us right now, and I really want to know if I did anything that upset you… I’m sorry if I did, but I really hate being this distant from you.”

A tense silence followed your words as you awaited Jeongin’s response. You dared to glance over at the boy and could sense the way the gears of his mind were turning, and you could imagine him trying to pick the correct words to structure his answer. Or, he simply was trying to come up with a way to tell you he didn’t want to be your friend anymore, who knew at this point.

Whichever it was, you were nervous.

After what you felt was an eternity, you heard Jeongin release a heavy sigh before speaking. “You don’t have to apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

You were about to retaliate and ask him what was truly going on if you weren’t the one at fault, but he beat you to it and continued talking. “It’s just… Before everything happened I came to a few realizations about… us?” He sounded unsure of that last word. “And I just thought that it would be best if I didn’t act on it and just distance myself.”

Well shit.

You weren’t really sure about how to respond to that, if you were being honest. You knew that Jeongin wouldn’t do something like distance himself if he didn’t have a good enough reason to do it, so now you just wanted to know what that reason was. Maybe you could fix it?

“Can... Can I know what caused you to do that?”

Jeongin didn’t answer immediately, and the both of you just kept walking in silence. You didn’t really want to push him, but you also wanted answers.

The distance between you guys and the street where you usually parted ways was getting shorter, and that’s when suddenly Jeongin put a halt to his steps and turned to look at you.

“I like you, and I’m scared.”

Oh.

You stared at him in surprise; those were surely the words that you least expected to come out of his mouth.

“And... the last time I liked someone it didn’t go so well,” he continued. “I just really cherished what we had at the moment, and didn't want to ruin it with my overthinking and weird emotions. Losing you because you didn’t feel the same way was much scarier than distancing myself, but I guess I ended up messing things up anyways.”

Oh.

“You… Like me?” Those were the only words you managed to let out.

“Yeah,” he said shyly, a pink color dusting his cheeks. You would’ve noticed that it made him look way cuter than usual, but you were a little busy processing all this. “It’s just… I find it so easy to talk to you, I feel that you truly understand me and it makes me want to get even closer to you. So yeah, I like you.” After a little pause, he added. “It’s totally okay if you don’t feel the same way, I expected it anyways. We can act like this never happened, and pretend like I didn’t just embarrass myself in front of you.” He laughed a bit at this, but you could tell that he didn’t want that.

You didn’t want that either.

Come to think about it, Jeongin had become a very important person in your life pretty fast. And, going back to all your previous interactions, there was that underlying feeling of adoration towards the boy; the way you admired him when he wasn’t looking, the eagerness to meet him every single day, the way you just wanted to hear him talk forever… And you could go on.

Holy shit, maybe you did like him too.

In the midst of your epiphany, you noticed that Jeongin was about to continue walking, but you stopped him by grabbing his arm before he could go too far.

“Wait.” You watched as a confused expression took over his features, and you quickly wanted to wipe it away so you just released a deep breath and spoke. “I… I feel the same way, Jeongin.”

His expression morphed into a shocked one. “Really? You’re not joking?” he quickly asked, searching your face for any ounce of doubt.

You shook your head. “You’re amazing, Jeongin, how could I not?” You shot him a reassuring smile, your hand dropping down to firmly grasp his.

The way his lips curled up and how he broke out into a wide smile would be forever imprinted in your memory.

“I… Wow.” He looked down at your hands, before bringing his gaze up to your face again. His actions made you giggle, which instantly transformed the previously tense atmosphere into a relaxed and happy one.

“You could’ve just told me and avoid having to ditch me for Seungmin every single day,” you teased him.

“Hey, he was the one who actually helped me figure everything out. He was pestering me by saying that I should stop ignoring you and confess, but I was too scared to do it.” He shrugged, while the both of you went back to walking alongside each other.

“Well, I’m glad you ended up doing it, even if Seungmin was the one to give you that little push.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll have to credit him for that.”

The silence that surrounded you was comfortable, the prospect of new experiences and emotions looming in the background of your mind. Having Jeongin by your side again felt amazing.

In all honesty, few things had actually changed; just the fact that your hands were now intertwined, the unusual shyness that you felt when your gazes met or that instead of your usual parting, Jeongin gave you a quick peck on the cheek before zooming away from your front door, which left you giggling as you went inside your house.

You wouldn’t mind getting used to all those changes.

-

you (16:22): where are yOU

jeonginnie <3 (16:23): professor hasn't dismissed the class yet :( gimme a few minutes

you (16:23): I’m waiting for you right next to the gates, I have food !!

jeonginnie <3 (16:24): have I told you you’re the best

you (16:24): you may have mentioned it a couple of times huh

jeonginnie <3 (16:25): well you are

jeonginnie <3 (16:27): I’m heading out now!!

You softly smiled as you put your phone in the back pocket of your jeans, careful not to drop the takeout bag that was hanging from your other hand. You looked up and tried to spot your boyfriend from between the groups of college students hanging out on the entrance, searching for that distinct splash of blonde hair that made catching sight of him all that much easier.

All of a sudden, you jumped as you felt a pair of arms wrap around your middle, but instantly relaxed when you heard Jeongin’s voice right next to you.

“Hey, sorry for leaving you waiting.” You turned around and giggled at the pout on his face, and leaned forward to peck his lips.

“Don’t worry! Now let’s get going so we can eat, I’m starving.”

Your hands quickly found each other and intertwined themselves, the both of you swinging them back and forth as you started heading in the direction of your houses.

You had walked along that exact same route countless times, but with Jeongin by your side it never felt the same. One day you would talk about a cute dog that crossed your path, other time you would have to cover yourselves due to the rain, or maybe your tiredness didn’t leave much room to talk and you would just stroll alongside each other in a comfortable silence.

Whichever it was that day, you were glad that it was with him.

[mltrefry-ficwriter]

Merry Christmas! (But I think I’ll skip this one this year)

For @jukeboxomens​ Song event.

Rating: T

Word count: 14223

AO3:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/28081347/chapters/68800308

Summery:  Human AU. Aziraphale Fell and Anthony Crowley met on a flight from New York to London and were instantly smitten with one another. But busy schedules, as well as plain stupidity, lead them to some hit and miss encounters that always feel a bit too long in between. As the calendar moves along, both begin to wonder if maybe it all means it just won't work out. At least, that's what they think until the hit December. A sort of songfic based on "Christmas Wrapping"

January

 Aziraphale Fell sat in his business class seat heading back from New York to London and sighed. His publishers in America were always a little more daunting to deal with than the ones back in the UK, but he couldn’t deny that being in person to discuss the movie rights to his book series was the smart move. After all, he may have lost nearly all his creative control if he hadn’t. Goodness knows what sort of butchering would have happened to his story if he hadn’t been there to amend that yes, he did want to be part of the scriptwriting process, thank you.

But it was done, and a bonus was being able to do a few book signings while he was in town and getting to meet his fans. He was terrible at social media, typically allowing his assistant Anathema to help him with it. Rarely did he ever post something directly. Gabriel had insisted it was absolutely necessary to have a “presence”, otherwise, he’d not bother. So these encounters had meant something to the people who read his books, and more so he got to hear from them directly.

The encounters from just earlier in the day were still warming his soul as he peeked out the window at the tarmac, watching as the people on the ground below went about their pre-flight work while they continued the boarding process. 

There was a shuffling to his right, and he half expected to look up and see a flight attendant, but instead, he saw a tall, thin man with red hair and sunglasses putting his bag in the overhead compartment.

Without meaning to, Aziraphale traced the man’s figure with his eyes. Lean, so painfully lean, legs for days. Not hard to look at in the least. Then he forced himself to look away and back out the window at something safe.

“Sorry, mate,” the man said as he dropped into the seat next to Aziraphale’s. “‘Magine you were hoping to get by without a seatmate.”

“It’s no trouble at all, I assure you. Plenty of room.” Aziraphale smiled as he turned back to the man and good lord he was not prepared for the cheekbones. Or the golden-brown eyes. Or the devastating half-smile. 

“Still, no one really shells out this sorta money to spend eight-odd hours next to a stranger.”

“Well, if I had been that adamant on not having a seat partner, I would have ensured I had booked one of those,” He said, indicating the middle row where single seats were located. “But it’s never particularly bothered me.”

“For the best then.” The man replied, giving a more toothy grin this time before offering his hand. “Anthony Crowley, last-minute flight booker.”

“Aziraphale Fell,” he said as he took Anthony’s hand and shook it. “You’re heading… home?” He wagered, taking Anthony’s accent into consideration.

“Yeah, can’t bloody wait, either. I love New York, but I hate America you know what I mean?” He asked with a wrinkle of his brow.

“I believe I do,” Aziraphale replied as the flight attendant went about closing the overhead bins. “New York, while it does have its flaws, almost feels like it’s an entirely different world. Especially when one goes into Central Park.”

“Bloody baffling, right? You almost can’t hear the city depending on where you are. Get in the right spots, no tourists, just the trees and the grass and the pigeons and you’d never even know.”

Aziraphale hummed in agreement, nodding, noting Anthony buckling his seatbelt without being prompted. 

He didn’t really sit back in the chair. Aziraphale wasn’t sure if what Anthony was doing could be called sitting, but he was at least in the chair, buckled, legs out of the aisle.

“So were you in the city long?” Anthony asked.

“Oh, no, just a few days on business.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I’m an author. I was meeting with some of the folks here to discuss plans for future projects. What about you?”

“Oh, I’m a musician. Part of a band, not in the spotlight directly, yeah? I was here to help write a song with someone else.”

“You came all the way to New York to write a song?” Aziraphale asked as the flight attendant came back through, peeking in to make sure everyone was buckled.

“Well,” Anthony stretched out the word. “I was in LA originally, finishing up some stuff with my band when I got the call. Buddy I was working with is a friend so I thought I would pop over. Rest of them are already back in London far as I know.”

“Oh, well, staying behind, helping a friend instead of going home, that was very kind of you.”

“Shut up,” Anthony groaned, blushing all the same. 

Aziraphale was completely and utterly charmed. It had been a long time since he looked at a man and found him magnetic, someone terribly difficult to look away from. Anthony Crowley utterly gorgeous, and on top of it he seemed a rather nice person. Aziraphale couldn’t be absolutely sure, but there seemed to signs that Anthony was of the same persuasion as Aziraphale. Certainly not at all in the same league, but it meant that he didn’t have to worry about a sudden cold shoulder when his quirks and mannerisms gave him away.

The pilot came over the speaker, announcing their pending departure, and Anthony partly straightened in his seat. He stuck his hand in his pocket, withdrawing from it a pack of gum. He took out a couple of sticks, then turned to Aziraphale.

“Want one? For the…?” He scrunched his face, gesturing to his ears with his free hand.

“Oh, no thank you,” Aziraphale decline with a smile.

Anthony swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Right,” He said as if partly in a daze then turning abruptly away. Shyly, he said, “I, um, I never got used to it, ya know? The whole ear popping thing. Been doing this for something like fifteen years and I still can’t find a way to get’em to pop besides this.”

“I’ve always just made a swallowing motion,” Aziraphale said as Anthony began to unwrap one of the sticks of gum.

He fumbled it on his lap while making a sound in his throat that sounded vaguely like they were made of consonants of the English language but no real words.

Aziraphale pursed his lips to stop himself from laughing, though he was sure he didn’t do well to hide his amusement altogether.

“So,” Anthony began, his voice pitching a little high before he cleared his throat, “Author. What sorta books do you write?” Anthony asked, adjusting his position so he was turned slightly more toward Aziraphale and very much gave off the air of “cool”. He popped the unwrapped stick of gum in his mouth and began to chew as the plane began to taxi.

Aziraphale felt suddenly flushed. “Oh, well. Umm, you see… I write, umm, fantasy novels. Nothing, nothing too… I’m no Tolkien, that’s for sure. But there’s, you know… magic. Fantastical creatures. Sword fights.”

“Anything I might’ve heard of? Not a big reader, mind, so if I haven’t don’t take that as a marker of any sort of renowned.”

Aziraphale swallowed. “Well, it’s the, umm… well the main character’s Landon, and his friend is umm… Artemis, and-“

“Oh my god, you’re A.Z. Fell.” Anthony interrupted him, eyes wide and jaw dropped. “Listen, mate, I don’t read. When I say I’m not a reader, I’m serious. Books, unless it’s something in my field - a biography or something - I don’t tend to pick it up. If I want a fantasy world I put on a film. But I have listened to the audiobooks of your stuff, and it’s bloody brilliant. That gets made into a movie I’ll be first in line to see it. Hell, I’ll probably try to convince the band to try and get on the soundtrack.”

“Ah,” Aziraphale grinned. “Funny you should say that.”

 ~C~

 Three hours into the flight from New York to London and Crowley knew he was in love. 

He’d had moments similar to these in the past, meeting a random stranger and finding himself utterly enamored with them while making small talk in an airport, at a bar, wherever they may be. A pretty face with a bit of intrigue behind it, and he could probably churn out a song when he thought back to it. 

It never stuck, of course. Half the time he might get their number, only to either be ghosted or find the luster had worn off and he’d move on. He avoided saying he was the guitarist of The Demons, knowing full well it would mean they would look at him differently. These little flights of fancy never led to the reveal of his minor fame. And since he wasn’t usually the main focus of albums, photographs, and all that he could get away with it.

But this was so very different. Because Aziraphale was so very different.

By this point on a flight, Crowley usually had his earbuds in, either watching some movie he’d seen a dozen times or listening to something and drift off. But he couldn’t bear the idea of not talking to Aziraphale.

He was just so bloody interesting. 

The man had inherited a bookshop that had been in his family for generations, dating back to the 1800s. And while he did carry plenty of new, modern titles and sold those with ease and relish there was a case in the back of repaired tomes and first editions that Aziraphale wouldn’t part with if he could help it. Half of them had apparently been repaired by his grandfather or father, and he had far too much sentimental attachment to them to let them go. And while he would never host a book signing at his own shop, his was the only place in all of London that had signed editions of all his work.

Where Crowley wasn’t a big reader, Aziraphale wasn’t a fan of most modern music though he heard it often enough pumped through the speakers of the shop. He had heard of his band and was fairly sure that he had heard the music but couldn’t say for certain. Same with film and most television, Aziraphale had heard of it, was exposed to it now and then, but tended to stick to the classics he was fond of and familiar with.

“Except for The Lord of the Rings ,” he’d confessed to Crowley as the two ate from their fruit, cheese, and cracker tray, glasses of wine at their sides. “I must confess I was eager to see each and every film when they were released and did so in the theater no less.”

“And did you munch popcorn?” Crowley asked before popping a grape in his mouth.

“No,” Aziraphale scoffed. “I’m not afraid to admit I’m a bit of a snob when it comes to food.”

Crowley looked from him to the tray with an arched brow, and the bastard rolled his eyes. 

“I’m not saying this is any sort of haute cuisine, but it’s also some of the only food I’ll have for another five hours. Though I must admit I would hate to see what they’re serving back in economy.”

“Yeah,” Crowley agreed, taking a sip of his wine. “Suppose this isn’t so bad. So what will you do when you get back?”

“Probably begin another book,” Aziraphale admitted. “At least until they get me a script to look over, work with. I imagine my agent will likely try and sell more of them now. But either way, I foresee many hours of work on my laptop. To which my assistant will try and convince me needs an update. What about you?”

“Oh, easily we’ll be recording and promoting,” Crowley replied. “We won’t tour until next year, I’m sure. Just a few smaller gigs throughout the year, slowly starting to unveil songs and such. Be busy, but I’ll get to sleep in my own bed at the end of it.”

Yell at his plants, but he wasn’t about to tell Aziraphale that.

“It sounds lovely,” Aziraphale commented. “What more do you miss about London aside from your bed?”

“Ooooh,” be blew a breath out of pursed lips, looking at the ceiling of the plane. “St James Park. Love walking about there. And maybe this little bar not far from my place where I like to get a quiet drink.”

“I’m a big fan of St James Park myself,” Aziraphale said before taking a sip of his wine. “I frequently go to feed the ducks. Helps work out my writer’s block.”

“Same. When I’m writing. Most times I go just to feed the ducks. Usually… toss a few peas down, then chuck the next few bits towards some unsuspecting picnickers. Gets the ducks to sorta bug them for a bit.”

“You’re quite the mischief-maker,” Aziraphale said with a smirk that would have made Crowley’s knees buckle had he been standing.

As it was, he had to shift a bit in his seat.

“Can be.” He agreed.

By the time the flight landed it was dark out, Crowley was exhausted but so utterly happy. He’d spent the whole time talking with Aziraphale and was walking off the plane without his heart, having decided to give it the cherubic, old-timey professor sorta man he just happened to sit next to by chance.

“Well,” Aziraphale said as they grabbed their luggage from baggage claim. “It was lovely to meet you.” He offered Crowley his hand.

Crowley beamed, taking it, clasping the wonderful warmth of it and shaking. “You too.” He said, someone calling Aziraphale’s name causing the men to look over. 

“Ah,” He said as a gorgeous, witchy looking woman smiled and waved him over. “That would be my lift. I probably shouldn’t keep her.”

“Yeah, right, gotta… get my car.” Crowley stuttered. “So umm, yeah….”

Aziraphale gave him another one of those grins, then wheeled his tartan suitcase toward where the woman was waiting just on the other side of the security line.

Crowley watched him the whole time, and was pleased as punch when Aziraphale turned and gave him a little wave when he spotted him still looking.

Crowley then began to make his way out of the airport to the secure parking facility where the Bentley had been kept while he was away.

He was nearly there when it hit him like a ton of bricks that he never asked for Aziraphale’s number.

“Fuck,” He said rather too loudly, earning him a glare from a well-to-do looking woman. He gave her a sarcastic grin then moved with a bit more purpose to where the Bentley was waiting, wondering what the chances were that he would find Aziraphale’s number in the directory, or what bookshop he actually owned.

 February

 “Well you’re a bloody idiot, aren’t you?” Bea said, smacking Crowley upside the head with their drumstick.

He lifted his face from his hands long enough to glare at his petite band member before reburying them. He felt a hand on his back, knowing it was Hastur’s, and braced himself for what was coming.

“Don’t feel too terrible. At least you didn’t-“

“Tell the story of how you told Scarlet Johanson to fuck off again, and I swear, Hastur, we will all murder you gladly.” Ligur interrupted, saving Crowley from hearing the tale for at least the dozenth time. “And I doubt very much she had wanted your number anyway.”

“Yeah, well, I wanted his number. Bloody hell he was fucking gorgeous.”

“So why don’t you call the publishing house and ask for his contact info?” Bea asked, and Crowley dropped his hands to look at them as though they had spoken a completely different language.

“Right, yes, of course. I should just call them up. Right, yes, excuse me, just looking for the contact information of one A.Z. Fell. Wondering if you might help me with my inquiries.” He mocked in return.

“Throw your name around.” Bea shrugged.

“Yes, my name. As the guitarist of The Demons, I would be widely known by name outside the music industry. I’m sure they’ll drop everything as quick as they would for ol’ Ligur here.” He gestured off to the side. 

“Well, what good is celebrity if you don’t use it to your advantage?” Bea asked. “Where’s this bookstore he has. It’s never mentioned in his bio. Then again, it’s a half-faced picture and he goes by A.Z..” 

“I don’t know. You’d think I’d have been smart enough to ask where in London his little bookshop is, but I didn’t because I’m a bloody genius.”

“Well, suppose it doesn’t matter now, does it?” Bea said in their stoic way. “You’ll either find him or you won’t. But not in time for the Brit Awards, so figure out who you’re taking so we can call Tracy and let her know already.”

 ~A~

 “Oh,” Aziraphale said as he caught sight of a very familiar face on Anathema’s television. “I guess he’s gay after all.”

Anathema looked from him to the TV just as they showed Anthony with a half-smile, a rather handsome looking man with his hand in his.

“Tabloids said they broke up.” Anathema commented in a “huh” sort of tone, and Aziraphale couldn’t help gaping at her. She watched the TV for a moment, narrowing her eyes before shrugging and going back to the magazine she was flipping through while they waited for the actual award show to begin.

For reasons Aziraphale couldn’t fathom, Anathema had managed to convince a few of the people from the publishing firm to bet on various awards given out, and she insisted Aziraphale join her with his laptop and a bottle of wine so they could toast all of her victories. Apparently there enough people who hadn’t known of her talent for predicting outcomes with uncanny results. 

He had had every intention of writing on his latest draft, but it seemed now Aziraphale would find his eyes focused on the television more often than not in order to glimpse a look at the beautiful stranger he met on a plane.

“Who’s he with?” He asked Anathema.

She didn’t even look up from her magazine. “He’s with an actor he was dating last year. Not anyone too well known, was pretty sure he was only using that guy to get ahead but it didn’t work.”

Aziraphale felt a pang of pity at the idea of Anthony being used in such a way. That someone would only ever consider dating him to advance their own career. If he’d had the chance, he would….

But it didn’t really matter, did it? No, he mucked that up well, hadn’t he? Not even asking for an email or a phone number. And anyway, it probably didn’t matter. Anthony Crowley probably walked away from the flight with a fun story about meeting an author he liked, getting some insider information, and likely would

April 

 The flat in Mayfair was starting to feel stifling. It was still sparse and mostly utilitarian, but after a week inside, writing, recording a few demos to get back to Ligur and the others, Crowley was beginning to feel caged in. 

Ligur’s voice was something else, smooth and beautiful, deep in a sensual way, easily what anyone would call tempting. Bea was the sort of drummer many strived to be. Hastur…. Well, Hastur had never broken a string to Crowley’s knowledge, and that was something he supposed.

But none of that would matter if there wasn’t a killer song for them to apply their talents to, and that’s where Crowley really came in. Because unlike the others, Crowley had an imagination. He didn’t need to be angry to write a song that expressed that rage. He didn’t need to be in pain to supply an adequate amount of angst. And he’d never been in love, not properly, and yet they could top charts with their love songs. He had a vast amount of songwriting awards in his office to prove it.

And yet. Yet. Being in love with someone he hadn’t seen in literally three months (two at a stretch, they did meet at the end of January) was beginning to provide some heavily romantic and very angsty material that The Demons didn’t want anything to do with. It was, however, selling to other musicians spectacularly well.

Which meant, of course, that there were so many people wanting him to fly here or there to help them with this album and that. The offers were bountiful, and since Bea and Ligur were currently bickering about bringing Dagon on as a full-time member of the band again, there wasn’t anything getting done within The Demons.

And if Hastur asked one more time if Crowley wanted to get together for a drink, maybe a jam, Crowley may damn well lose his mind.

Still, did he really want to go out of town again, and nearly all of the best offers for co-writing was across the pond. He liked London. He liked England. But the money would be really good, and he could work out some of these excess feelings through lyrics and melody.

He needed to get some air, for a walk, clear his mind so he could possibly make a bloody decision and get back to Tracy with a decisive answer as to where he was going to be for the next few weeks, if not longer.

Grabbing his jacket, putting on his sunglasses, slipping on his snake-skin boots, and Crowley glared in warning to his plants before heading out the door. 

He hadn’t been at all surprised when his feet led him to St James Park. Admittedly since that encounter in January, he’d taken to walking there almost exclusively. Once in a while, he would wander into Hyde Park for a change, but he constantly worried that maybe that was the one time the person he wanted to see the most was feeding the ducks somewhere else.

The crowds were thin, the dark clouds above threatening to open up at any moment and unleash a down power on unsuspecting tourists. He wasn’t really any more prepared for the possible deluge himself, but it was always a bit funnier to watch people with the big, expensive cameras and their fanny packs go fleeing. As if they hadn’t realized they’d chosen one of the rainiest places in the world to pay a visit to.

Crowley weaved his way along the path, fingers in the pockets of his denim and a swagger to his hips that he really couldn’t control, something that fit when he looked more like the rock star he rightfully was.  Though strangers who saw him would likely not know what to make of him. He hadn’t done anything with his hair so it hung a bit flat against his head, and he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days which allowed a nice layer of growth to form on his face meaning that even the biggest fans of the band likely wouldn’t pick him out of a crowd. 

He probably should have done something before he left.

Crowley made his way toward the duck pond, prepared to watch the little bastards as they bothered some unsuspecting fool when he stopped so suddenly he nearly fell on his face.

Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale was standing exactly where Crowley tended to go, still looking exactly like some stereotypical processor without the elbow guards on the sleeves of his beige morning coat. He was wearing a waistcoat, as well, paired with a tartan bow tie. His trousers were a shade of color between the coat and the waistcoat, making the blue collared shirt a pop of color in the monochrome. He gripped the handle of a white umbrella as one would a cane, both hands resting on it making him look that much more dapper.

No one had the right to look that gorgeous while also being completely ridiculous and Crowley very nearly took out his phone to snap a photo of him just in case he would never catch a glimpse of the man again. But that was something paparazzi-like, and Crowley couldn’t bring himself to stoop to that sort of low.

He recalled how he looked, and very nearly turned around and went back to his flat so he could at least look somewhat like the successful man he was. Lucky for him, some higher function he could thank later had his feet moving forward with more confidence than he’d ever recalled faking before, ensuring he wouldn’t let the chance of Aziraphale slipping away happen.

As he neared the Aziraphale, the blonde man glanced up, then did a double-take before his eyes positively lit up and a smile graced his lips.

“Anthony.” He said with utter delight.

Crowley’s knees buckled a bit.

“‘Lo,” He grinned back. “Fancy running into you here.”

“Yes, quite,” Aziraphale replied. “And how’ve you been?”

“Oh, you know,” Crowley replied vaguely, shrugging one shoulder. “Working. Pretty much always working, really. You?”

“I’ve been well, thank you,” Aziraphale replied, the smile no longer reaching his eyes. “I, umm, saw you on television back in February. Congratulations on your awards, you must be proud.”

Crowley blushed but shrugged. “Yeah, guess.”

“Your partner looked very happy for you, anyway,” Aziraphale added, and Crowley narrowed his eyes at him a moment, trying to figure out what the deuce he was on about. “The, umm, the fellow there. That you went with, I’m afraid I don’t recall his name.”

“Oh, John!” Crowley half yelled, startling a few of the waterfowl nearby. “Oh, yeah, no he’s not… he’s not my partner. I mean he was, once, but we broke up last year. I just asked him to go with me then. See, Ligur always brings his wife, and Hastur tends to bring a friend of his. Bea and Dagon have been going together since … fuck, I can’t even remember. Since she first started touring with us? I just didn’t want to go alone, ya know?”

“I suppose it is rather lonely, otherwise.” Aziraphale bowed his head, looking at his hands where he gripped the umbrella.

“Take it there aren’t any sorta literary award shows where you would ask a former flame to tag along?”

“Not so much, no,” Aziraphale replied with a half grin that went nowhere near his eyes. “And if there were, I’m afraid I wouldn’t have a former partner I could ask. The ones I parted with amicably all have new partners now, and those I didn’t… well, why in Heaven’s name would I ask someone I didn’t part on good terms with to something like that?”

“No, guess not.” Crowley replied, trying his best not to remember the screaming fight that had ended with John storming out of the Mayfair flat, the smashed potted plant on the floor that was the victim of one of his great, dramatic fits, and the vow Crowley made to himself never to date an actor again. “So, no former flames. Are you… seeing anyone now?”

That went, to Crowley’s mind, about a smooth as a pumice stone, but he couldn’t rightly think of a better way of approaching the subject. Award-winning lyricist praised for the way he could string words together in a poignant and eloquent way, and he stumbles on the most basic question. 

He watched as Aziraphale’s eye crinkled ever so slightly, and a wicked smirk curled his lips.

“As a matter of fact, I am not. I’ve actually come from what was easily the worst date I’ve had in ages.”

Crowley blinked, then looked at his watch. “It’s bloody eleven o’clock in the morning on a Tuesday.”

“Yes, I’m aware. He’s a friend of my agent, I mostly did it as a favor to him. The man was persistent to the point of obsession. I had thought if I told him the only time I was available was early on a weekday morning then he would have to back down. Sadly, he agreed.”

“No chance for the poor sap, eh?”

“Oh, none,” Aziraphale said emphatically. “I’d met him at writer’s convention last year, though he is neither writer nor agent. He merely wanted to be there for the sake of it, though I can’t understand why. He’d been hounding Gabriel - my agent - ever since, though I had never had an interest. I still don’t, and to be frank, am even less willing to see him again. I had Anathema call me to fake an emergency.”

“Ha!” Crowley barked, “what emergency happens that early in the morning?”

“A problem with the register at the shop. Which is next to impossible, because the thing is an antique. My assistant manager, bless him, is inept with modern technology. While updating the system would certainly make things easier, I would hate to see what sort of damage he can do.”

“Quite right,” Crowley grinned. “So,” Crowley said a bit too loudly, earning a disgruntled quack from a mallard that he ignored. “Bad date. Not doing anything or seeing anyone. I’m not doing anything or seeing someone. Perhaps….”

“Yes?” Aziraphale smirked knowingly.

“Could I tempt you to a spot of lunch?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale’s smirk turned into a smile.

“Temptation accomplished.”

 ~A~

 The pub they went to was the sort that served a proper English fish and chips and a pint that somehow paired well with the food without trying. In a corner booth near the back, Aziraphale and Crowley ( “Please call my Crowley, no one ever calls me Anthony.”) carried on as though they’d been friends for years and not a pair of men that met exactly one other time.

They talked about everything and nothing, a pint with lunch becoming two or three more heading into dinner. Around them, the crowd waned and grew once more until their server came by and pointedly gave them their bills. She did so with a knowing smirk so reminiscent of Anathema Aziraphale was starkly reminded that he hadn’t done a single bit of work - writing or at the shop - all day.

“Oh,” he said as he looked at the slip of paper. “I suppose I really should be getting on. I’ve been rather neglectful of my duties.” He added with a quick upturn of his lips.”

“Shit, suppose you probably wanted to get some writing done.”

“Oh, it’s no bother at all,” Aziraphale waved Crowley’s concern off. “I’ll go and let Newton and Alice head home, close up, do some writing this evening if I can.”

“Is it far from the shop to your home?” Crowley asked as the two of them stood, each moving slowly to the bar to pay their tab.

“No, it’s right above the shop.” Aziraphale grinned. “It’s a bit small, only one room, really. But I’m rather fond of it. Admittedly it looks almost like an extension of the shop, what with all the bookcases and their wares. But they were some of the original cases from when the shop first opened, and while I did have to modernize it for safety reasons, I simply couldn’t part with some of the better ones.”

“A one-room flat above your shop?” Crowley asked as the bartender took their pound notes and bills to ring them through. Once they were given the wave that they could leave, they meandered to the doors. “I mean, I know it’s not really my business, but you’re a best selling author. There’s bloody merchandise for your novels. You mean to tell me you don’t make enough to afford something a little more grander? Or is it a choice, or you need to live there for trust reasons?”

“Ah,” Aziraphale blushed even though he had nothing to be embarrassed about.

They emerged out on the sidewalk, concrete beneath their feet stained darker from the earlier rain that mercifully had already stopped. Aziraphale looked up and down the road for no reason at all, then down at the handle of his umbrella. 

“You see, yes. I suppose… I would have made that much over the years. The thing is, though, I uh… well the money. Most of I … I give it away.”

Crowley blinked.

“Sorry, you what?”

“I give it away,” Aziraphale said with a shrug. “I kept a good chunk, don’t get me wrong. Enough to ensure I would live comfortably if I never wrote another book again or even sold the shop. But I don’t need big and fancy. I pay my employees more than a fair wage, Anathema included. The rest? I give to charities. Anonymously, of course, I would hate for it to get out on the internet that I donate as much as I do, I would rather not draw the attention. But yes, I … give it away.”

Crowley stared at him with something like awe, his sunglasses had come off when they were inside and had yet to be replaced. It made Aziraphale shift his weight from one foot to the other, want to look anywhere else but at the beautiful man who seemed entirely focused on him.

“Please don’t look at me like that,” He asked with a sideways glance at Crowley.

“Like what?” Crowley blinked, shaking his head subtly. “Sorry, you’re just so bloody selfless. Give it away? I know people with three houses because it never occurs to them that maybe they don’t need it. Damn angel, you are.”

“Oh please,” Aziraphale rolled his eyes but really couldn’t help but smile from the warmth that surged through him. “Much as I hate to-“

“Let me walk you,” Crowley offered, gesturing for Aziraphale to lead the way.

Aziraphale turned toward the shop, leading Crowley through the streets in silence at first.

“So,” He started. “What’s next for you, did you say?”

“Not sure.” Crowley sighed. “Still trying to debate if I want to go write with others or not for a while.”

“Right,” Aziraphale nodded, suppressing the need to tell Crowley he wished he wouldn’t go anywhere simply because he had no reason to say that. They weren’t together, they weren’t even friends, not properly.

“But, I mean, even if I travel I could… call you?” Crowley offered uncertainly.

Aziraphale stopped and looked at him, eyes a bit too wide. “Oh, really?”

Crowley shrugged. “Why not?” Then smacking himself, yelled, “phone number!” 

A woman passing them on the street looked at Crowley with uneasiness before hurrying along.

“What?” Aziraphale asked him.

“Phone number. Mine, let me, yeah, I could… give it. To you, that is… if you want it.”

Tension Aziraphale hadn’t realized was building suddenly left his body, and he grinned rather bashfully. “I’d like that. Perhaps I could give you mine as well.”

Crowley took his mobile from his pocket so quick he nearly dropped it, fumbling with it as he did. After a few moments of his long fingers dancing around the screen, he handed it back to Aziraphale. “Just... Yeah.” He said, gesturing to it before attempting to stuff his hands in his pockets, and looked anywhere but at Aziraphale.

Once his contact information was given, Crowley took his phone and they continued walking in silence. It was only a little awkward, but if Aziraphale was honest with himself he could admit he wouldn’t have known what to say if he tried. Oh, he could have his hero give a declaration of love that had readers sighing wistfully, that he was told many times over could be felt deep in their soul. Talking to a beautiful man whom he fancied quite a bit in real life, however, was next to impossible. 

So they spent that walk back to the shop subtly stealing glances at one another and blushing and smiling when they were caught. 

Once at the little shop at the corner, Crowley looked up, and his jaw dropped.

“Seriously?” He asked, pointing up at the simply gold lettering above the shop.

Aziraphale grinned. “Now, I’ll have you know that A.Z. Fell - that would be Andrew Zachery Fell - was the original owner of the shop in the eighteen hundreds. The name remained, but for obvious reasons, the number isn’t listed as such in the phone book. It’s simply Fell and Co’s Books and Sundry.” 

Crowley giggled, shaking his head. “Suppose that’s why it hadn’t popped up when I Googled you.”

“Precisely.” Aziraphale agreed. “So, perhaps we can do this again sometime? Perhaps… soon?”

“Yeah,” Crowley replied. “Yeah, definitely.”

Aziraphale smiled once more, then waved, going up the steps and entering the well-lit shop. 

“Date went well then?” Newton greeted him with a hopeful smile.

Aziraphale glanced out the window, catching a glimpse of Crowley as he walked down the sidewalk away from the shop.

“I suppose that depends on which man I consider my proper date.” He replied. While Newton stammered, he added, “Go home, Mr. Pulsifer. I’ll take it from here.”

Newton knew better to argue, so he didn’t. 

And Aziraphale spent the last hour of the shop’s opening hours forming a dashing hero with red hair and golden eyes in his mind, not the least bit ashamed of where the inspiration sprung from.

June

 They, of course, would not do lunch or anything even close to it for a while.

Crowley had indeed gone off to various places to work for a while, which limited them to random phone or video calls, as well as equally unpredictable text conversations since April. 

And, of course, among these many random and unpredictable conversations, the topic of whether or not the lunch they did have was a date had never come up.

Aziraphale was fairly certain it wasn’t.  

He had no doubt that Crowley had some interest in him, though how or why he couldn’t fathom. 

He certainly had an interest in him, but who wouldn’t. Crowley was so aesthetically pleasing anyone would be hard-pressed not to take a second look at him. But Aziraphale had also gotten to know the man behind the lovely face, and that man was so wonderful. Clever, witty, charming, playing at being cool when he was very much not. 

Aziraphale had given Crowley his heart without even having realized he’d done so.

But feelings and their reciprocation did not mean their singular outing was a date. And it certainly seemed to mean that they were going to talk about it.

Instead, they chatted about anything else.

“I hate coffee here,” Crowley complained over video, grimacing as he took a sip from a paper takeaway cup. “Realize we’re not known for our coffee, but we do it better than they do here.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Aziraphale replied, holding his phone a decent distance away from his face so it would capture him entirely. He took a sip of his wine and smirked as Crowley rolled his eyes.

“You’re the epitome of British, you know that?” He said fondly despite the scowl he tried to wear. “Surprised you don’t lift your pinky when you take a drink.”

“Only if the cup is dainty enough,” Aziraphale replied. “I just could never quite find a way to enjoy coffee. It’s far too bitter.”

“Says the man who’s likely drinking the driest of red wines available to him.” Crowley countered, his lips ticking up ever so slightly.

“Well, I have standards,” Aziraphale replied with a smirk. “How’s the work going, then?”

“Awful. She’s a bloody diva.” Crowley replied, seemingly not caring an iota if anyone heard him. “And she can’t properly sing, from what I’ve noted. She’s only here so she can say she has songwriting credit, but she contributes nothing and rejects everything. And she smacks gum, just,” He mimicked the sound, and Aziraphale grimaced. “Yeah,” Crowley said wide-eyed, shaking his head a little. “Exactly that.”

“And how old is she again?” Aziraphale asked.

“A few years younger than us. Mid-thirties, I believe. Been around for ages, she was in a group thing for most of it. She either left or was kicked out, I dunno. I don’t rightly care, either, she’s a bloody nightmare.”

“Perhaps she simply wants to feel heard. Probably didn’t get much say in the way things went before.”

Crowley moved his head from side to side, face screwed up in uncertainty. “Maybe.” He assented. “Possibly. I dunno. How’s the rewiring going?”

“Slow,” Aziraphale replied. “Dreadfully, painfully slow,” he took a pointed drink of his wine. “I do realize and appreciate the need for them to maintain the building’s original structure, but this fishing the wiring through the walls is taking forever. I’m glad they at least did my flat first since, as I think I would have absolutely dreaded the prospect, seeing them slowly move their way through the shop day by day.”

“Not sure you complained too much about that week in Paris,” Crowley smirked.

“Would have been much better had I had someone to share it with.” Aziraphale let slip.

Crowley’s features softened, a gentle hope glimmering in his eyes. “’Magine it would have been. Had you anyone in mind?”

“Oh, just this gentleman I’ve only ever seen twice,” Aziraphale replied casually while his heart pounded furiously in his chest. “I imagine there is likely decent coffee in Paris, so I’m sure he’d enjoy himself at least in that regard.”

“Probably wouldn’t mind a museum or two,” Crowley added with his own put-on casualness. 

Aziraphale hummed in agreement. “No, I don’t imagine he would.”

After a beat, Crowley said, “Sounds like a right asshole, though, only ever seeing you twice. I’m willing to bet he didn’t even give his number first go, the sorry sod.”

Aziraphale giggled in delight, taking a drink of his wine. “He certainly didn’t.”

“Ah, see, I was right. Asshole, don’t have anything to do with him.” Crowley grinned.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m sure he has his moments, but overall I think he’s rather nice.”

“Not nice,” Crowley half scowled. “Nice is a four-letter word.”

“Please, you can’t be that offended, can you?” Aziraphale countered with an eye roll.

“You had said something like that to me when someone could hear - like now - but in person, I might’ve had you shoved against a wall and gotten in your face.” He said with utter seriousness.

Aziraphale quirked a brow and barely suppressed a smirk. “Really?”

“Done before,” Crowley replied

“Against a wall and in my face? You’re not really making a case for deterrence. If anything, I might just add on a few other four-letter words -kind, good  - just to see what further responses I would solicit from you.”

He watched how even on the small screen of his phone he could see Crowley’s throat work and a slight blush creep up his cheeks.

“You’re something else, let me tell you,” He eventually said. “Do you talk like that to all the men you’ve only really seen once or twice?”

“No, but these are rather special circumstances, aren’t they?” Aziraphale countered, butterflies suddenly springing up in his stomach, fluttering about nervously.

“Yeah,” Crowley smiled. “I think they are, anyway.” 

“Crowley,” Someone off-camera said, “she’s ready.”

“Right, be right there,” Crowley told the person before turning back to Aziraphale. “Gotta go.” 

“Until next time then,” Aziraphale acknowledged.

“Bye, angel.”

Crowley disappeared from his screen, and Aziraphale dropped his arm down on his lap, sighing heavily as he rested his head on the back of his chair.

Oh, how he hated this. This being rather inconveniently in love with a man he never even really got to properly see in person, had barely in the physical orbit of. He wondered if this is how those who fancy themselves in love with a public figure they’d never met felt. If this deep yearning for something unattainable was more universal than he would have believed before.

The problem was that he knew the man on the other end of the call. He knew Anthony Crowley better than he knew Anathema. Certainly more than he knew Newton. 

Draining the remainder of his wine, Aziraphale decided not to dwell on it. He couldn’t change how things were, and it may be that before they encountered one another in person again, Crowley might meet someone else and that will be the end of things.

Rising from his chair, Aziraphale decided a nice, relaxing shower was in order before he turned in to bed and read until he grew tired.

 ~C~

 Why had he agreed to this date?

The bloke was bloody boring. He’d been droning on for the last twenty minutes about a coding language that Crowley had never heard of (not that he had really heard of any) and how it was superior to all other languages. 

It wasn’t that Crowley had found the man attractive, though he could admit he wasn’t hard on the eyes. It wasn’t even that the man had asked Crowley on this date directly. But one of the blokes he’d been working with for the last few weeks had mentioned he had a cousin who Crowley might get on with.

Crowley’s immediate instinct had been to say no, and sadly it had nothing to do with the fact that this bloke lived in America and Crowley lived in England. No, he only wanted to say no because of Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale who wasn’t actually dating. Aziraphale who Crowley couldn’t say for one-hundred percent certainty returned all the warm fuzzy feelings Crowley got when he spoke to him. Oh, the bastard flirted like no one’s business, often saying or doing things that would make Crowley blush and stammer like an idiot. But it didn’t mean that he actually wanted a romantic connection with Crowley.

So he agreed to this date, which he was now greatly regretting. No amount of good food or great wine was worth enduring this circle of hell, but Crowley hadn’t thought to come up with an escape plan, and just leaving seemed far too rude even for him.

His phone began to vibrate in his pocket just as the bill came by, and Crowley took it out to check the name, hoping to see one of the bandmates or even Tracy so he would have a viable reason to cut out.

Instead, he saw Aziraphale’s.

“Oh,” He said with an appropriate amount of worry, cutting the bloke off mid monotoned rant. “I’m sorry, really, I have to take this. It’s my, umm, landlord back in England.” He said, flashing his phone toward the bloke so he could at least see the foreign number. “I’ll, ah, just take the bill up and pay for the both of us, yeah? It was great meeting you.”

“You too,” The bloke said who didn’t seem to care either way. 

It caused Crowley to pause and blink but ultimately just shake his head as he grabbed the bill and headed for the front. He answered the phone as he spotted his waiter, flagging him down. “Hey angel,” He said, the waiter taking the bill and Crowley’s credit card. He pointed to the front, and the waiter nodded.

“Hello,” Aziraphale replied a little shyly. “Why do I have the feeling I’m calling at a rather inconvenient time?”

“Actually, you’re calling at exactly the right time. I think my brain was about to liquefy and drip out my ears. Terrible dinner with a bloke.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale replied, and Crowley tensed at the tone. “Oh, that’s… I’m so sorry.”

“No, please don’t be. I wasn’t interested. It was a thing.” He replied as the waiter came back with the receipt. Crowley signed it, adding a very generous tip before taking his card and waving, heading back out into the warm evening.

“Right,” Aziraphale replied, still sounding uncertain.

The realization of the time had Crowley stopping a little ways away from the restaurant, trying to do the mental math as to what the time would be in London.

“Why are you… is everything alright?” He asked, heart starting to pound in his chest.

“Oh, yes. It is, I just… well, I couldn’t sleep, so I thought perhaps if you weren’t working we could chat. But if you’re in the middle-“

“I’m available,” Crowley assured, making his way down the road to the temporary flat he’d been living in while working here.

“You’re almost finished there, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but when I get back Ligur wants us in the studio.” Crowley sighed heavily. “Means not a lot of free time.”

“I suppose that lunch would be out of the question then.”

“We can try!” Crowley insisted. “I mean, I had a lot of fun when we did that last time, you know?”

“I do know.” Aziraphale agreed. “And I would love to do it again.”

 July

 “This wine is fantastic,” Crowley half groaned after taking a sip from his glass.

“Told you,” Aziraphale replied smugly.

Crowley picked up a cheese cube, popped it in his mouth. “You know this is almost like the time we met. Only better nibbles and better wine.”

“I tend to agree.” Aziraphale nodded. “Though-“ He was cut off by a rather loud horn blaring in the background on his end, and he turned to glare at the traffic over his shoulder before turning back to the screen he had propped up somehow on his picnic blanket. “Though I couldn’t be absolutely sure without being able to participate myself. I’ll have to stick to tea.”

“I’m surprised you’re outside, given how hot it tends to get there,” Crowley commented with a frown before popping a grape in his mouth.

Aziraphale lifted his arms to the camera, and Crowley had to suppress a groan at the idea that the man he was pining for having his forearms exposed. It was bad enough that there was no coat, waistcoat, or bow tie. Agony that the top button of Aziraphale’s shirt was undone. Now he was exposing his forearms? Bloody torture, that.

“I realize inside is far more comfortable, given the central air and all, but there’s something to be said for feeling the sun on your face. That, of course, and the fact that the scriptwriters are inside and I would very much like to be where they are not at the moment.”

“That bad, huh?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale blinked.

“Well, they’re trying to make Meg and Landon a couple, for a start.”

“No!” Crowley snapped. “No, no! No! That jus- no! No, he’s meant to be with Artemis. He and Artemis… the kiss! The kiss that Artemis gives… while he’s sorta… what are they…?”

“One bloke thought it would be best to eliminate it altogether,” Aziraphale said, an icy edge to his voice that Crowley was certain would be a prelude to a murder. “Another thought they should change the speech to make it more buddy-like. A bromance, I believe they called it.”

“Do those idiots even understand that half of the appeal of the story is the fact that the hero has no intention whatsoever of ‘getting the girl’?”

“I would wager not,” Aziraphale replied with a sigh. He ran his hand through his hair (forearms!!) and glanced at the house before looking back to Crowley. “I’ve already spoken to Gabriel, told him this was a complete nightmare. He agreed we need to have a talk with the studio, tell them to either hire new scriptwriters or tell these lot to not take away the biggest selling point of the story.”

“You sound like you need a break,” Crowley said sympathetically.

“I rather do.” Aziraphale agreed, then smiled wistfully. “I regret not being able to spend any time with you before I left.”

“Don’t worry about it, angel. Shit happens.” Crowley replied, telling the ache in his chest to kindly sod off.

He’d been in the studio with the band almost every hour of the day once he’d gotten back from the States. Of course, just as they were finishing up, Aziraphale informed him that he was requested to join the writers across the pond. It seemed weird, but now Crowley understood why. 

“When do you head this way next? Soon?”

I’m in New York the first week of August. Maybe… if you’re still there?”

“Given that that’s a week from now, I would say so. If nothing else, I could possibly pop your way for a day or two.”

Crowley beamed. “I look forward to it.”

 August

 Coney Island was busy, the beach crowded, and yet they were essentially ignored. 

“So you’re finally going on a date with this bloke tomorrow?” Bea asked Dagon on the other side of her sitting up from her towel and looking over her lover at Crowley.

“Dunno if you can call it a date,” Crowley grumbled. “His agent got wind that Aziraphale was popping this way and insisted that we go on his big boat thing for the day. So, you know, not much is gonna happen.”

“You’re not having much luck with this guy, are you?” Dagon asked with a frown. “It’s been, what? Eight months of pretty much nothing?”

“We call. And text.” Crowley argued. 

“Right,” She said, looking at Bea, the two exchanging a rather loaded look.

“Hey, yeah, alright. It sucks that I haven’t actually physically seen him since April. But he’s clever. He’s clever and gorgeous, and a right bastard and I am quite in love with him.”

“In love with someone you’ve met twice. Yeah, you almost sound like a really rabid fan.”

“Not a rabid fan. I mean, I am a fan of his, but it’s not like that. We actually, you know, talk. Know each other.”

“Crowley,” Bea said flatly. “I’m not saying this to be mean, for once, but I think you gotta chalk this one up to a lost cause. I mean, think of what it was like when Ligur was dating that girl from that band in the beginning before he met Lenore. Their relationship was pretty much just like whatever you got going on with this author, only maybe a bit better because we toured together for a bit.”

“It’s nothing like that,” Crowley assured confidently, laying back on his blanket with his arms tucked behind his head, closing his eyes. “You’ll see, we’re gonna meet up tomorrow, and things will be just great.”

 ~A~

 “Crowley?” Aziraphale questioned when he answered the video call and found no image of Crowley looking back at him.

“Right, please don’t be upset. I can’t make it to the boat thing today.”

Aziraphale frowned. “Did something come up with work?”

“No,” Crowley hesitated. “But, umm… alright, don’t laugh. I’m going to turn my video on.”

“Alright, but I’m not sure why you would need to preface it with that, why would I - Oh good lord!” Aziraphale cut himself off and then promptly pressed his lips together in a herculean effort not to grin, let alone allow the laugh he really wanted to let loose out.

Crowley was red. His face, while still handsome, was very lobster like except around his eyes where he quite obviously had sunglasses. 

“Are you alright?” Aziraphale managed to ask with only a minor giggle. 

“It hurts to talk,” Crowley admitted. “It hurts to move my mouth at all. The assholes who I call friends and bandmates let me, a bloody ginger, fall asleep without reapplying the sunscreen to my face, and this is what happened.”

“I do hope you don’t have any television,” Aziraphale began to ask, but at the distraught look flashing over Crowley’s features, he giggled. Briefly. Just a little. “Oh my dear, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s tomorrow night.” He said. “Which is why I need to stay here, inside, aloeing, hydrating, just… trying to heal as much as I possibly can before they have to cake me in make up. When do you fly-“

“Tomorrow afternoon, I’m afraid,” Aziraphale said with a sigh, all the good humor at the situation gone at the realization that he wasn’t going to see Crowley as he’d planned. Like this whole weekend trip across the country had been for. “We’ll miss each other again. I suppose I could tell Gabriel I’m unwell? Sneak over to see you?”

“No, please, don’t. I’m not gonna be much company anyway. I’m tired, I keep falling asleep. I purposely set this alarm so I could call you so you wouldn’t wait around for me.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Aziraphale said without much feeling, though he still managed a bit of a smile. “I wonder when we’ll manage to be in the same area again?”

“I don’t know, we’re supposed to be popping up to Canada for a few cities after tomorrow night,” Crowley said dispassionately. He went to rub at his face and hissed, looking at his hand like it had offended him, then turned back to the camera. “I should… I should probably let you go, get ready and all that.”

“If you must,” Aziraphale said. “Until… when?”

“Call me whenever. Send me pictures of today, if you’d like.”

“Right, might do, then,” Aziraphale said. They gave a pair of solemn farewells, and then the call was done.

Aziraphale collapsed on the guest bed in Gabriel’s home and looked at his phone despite the screen being blank.

It hadn’t escaped his notice that in the eight months since he’d met Crowley, he’d only been in the man’s physical presence twice. They may talk nearly every single day, and speak on video as often as possible, but it seemed like a rather cruel twist of fate that their paths never seemed to cross. It had been easily the dozenth time since April their plans fell through, or had to change. Lunches, dinners, simple outings, all of it was held up for one reason or another. A schedule change, an unexpected cold, meetings that went on longer than expected. It was as though some higher power didn’t want them together. Fate put them together on the plane, reuniting them in St James Park, and ensuring that they would remain out of reach from one another.

He couldn’t keep doing this to himself. Aziraphale knew that if this kept going on for too long he would regret it. Being hopelessly attached to someone you couldn’t have never ended well. One more chance. Three at a stretch, and then he would call the whole possibility of anything more than friendship with Crowley a wash.

With one last wistful sigh, he got up from the bed to seek out Gabriel and infor

October

 September had brought with it a busy time for both. Aziraphale frankly couldn’t tell anyone what Crowley was up to for they barely did much more than send the occasional message.

Gabriel had decided that it would be absolutely imperative that Aziraphale have a book ready for release when it was announced there would be a film based on his work, and another one ready to go around the time the movie was released. Which would have been something Aziraphale would have readily agreed with had he any idea, any clue whatsoever what was supposed to come next. 

It was bad enough trying to figure out a plot or three, trying to twist his current draft into something that allowed for another few storylines. But trying to focus became worse when he discovered he’d missed Crowley in the shop not once, not twice, but three times in September.

“I would almost think you’re avoiding me,” Crowley said over the phone. Not even a video call because Aziraphale had wanted to work while he conversed.

“Hardly,” Aziraphale replied. “Though I could say the same. What is this now, two skipped lunches?”

“I have to meet with my manager. She’s lovely, I adore her, and normally she would be chomping at the bit to let me go out with someone I like, but with Ligur and Bea fighting so much… she wants these meetings more and more with her as a whole until whatever is going on blows over.”

“I understand, dear boy. Hardly like I haven’t had to reschedule because of my agent.”

“I know,” Crowley said mournfully, and Aziraphale tensed. “This… we haven’t… it’s been months.”

“I know,” it was Aziraphale’s turn to say, though it came out more of a whisper. He said it somewhere between acknowledgment and a plea. Understanding that this, whatever t was, wasn’t going anywhere. And a plea that despite his own quiet ponderings Crowley wouldn’t give in.

“So,” Crowley began, a bit of hope in his tone. “There’s this bloke who does a radio show here in London who has the best Halloween party ever. I have a thing I need to do around Canary Wharf earlier in the day. But, thought maybe you might wanna be my plus one. Have anything on the go?”

“No, not that I’m aware of. I can certainly make a point to take some time off. Will there be a costume require?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Crowley replied. “Nothing too fancy, though. You don’t need to go all out. Slap some wings, grab a halo, dress like you normally do, and call yourself an angel.”

“I think it would require a bit more than that.” Aziraphale pointed out with a smirk.

“I won’t complain if you show up in some sort of heavenly robe thing,” Crowley replied, sounding like he might be flirting a little.

“We’ll see what I come up with.” Aziraphale grinned. “But for now I must get back to work.”

“Right Angel. I’ll text you the details, alright?”

“Okay, my dear. Until next time.”

 ~C~

 It took him ten minutes after putting the call through first to the insurance company and then to the towing company before Crowley could work up the nerve to call Aziraphale. 

He would never admit to anyone that part of the reason it took that long was because his eyes stung and his throat felt like it would close up. He wouldn’t say that it took an impressive amount of lying to himself to make him find Aziraphale in his contacts and call.

It ran twice. 

“Oh, are you already close? Or perhaps I simply didn’t get your text right away. I know Canary wharf isn’t terribly far, but-“

“I, no, I’m not…,” Crowley interrupted then paused to sigh, running his hands through his hair. “I don’t think I’ll be making it tonight. It would take a miracle, really.”

Aziraphale was silent for a few seconds too long. “What happened?” He asked calmly, a note of concern in his tone.

Crowley looked out the windshield at his beautiful Bentley’s hood, knowing that something inside had come loose to make him putter over to the side of the road. He didn’t want to look at the back again, even if he could have. Despite four-ways and clear car trouble the asshole behind him didn’t slow down and ended up clipping the back of Crowley’s car. 

“My car,” Crowley started. “You know it’s vintage, which means special mechanic, and towing. Something… and then a guy…. Anyway, my point is… I’m not going to make it tonight. Not by the time, someone can come get me, and I do all the intake shit and whatnot for insurance.” He huffed. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s… it’s alright.” Aziraphale said despite the heavy disappointment in his voice. 

“What did… what did you decide to go as?” Crowley asked tentatively.

“Oh, well, I suppose I won’t be um… but I had gone with a Victorian gentleman.” 

Crowley smiled. “Cheater,” He teased. “Pretty much how you dress every day.”

“Oh, hush you.” Aziraphale teased back, but Crowley could tell his heart wasn’t in it.

After a rather long stretch of time, Aziraphale said very quietly, “This is never going to work, is it?”

Crowley immediately wanted to deny it. Assure Aziraphale that this was a fluke, that there would be other times. But the problem was, and he knew, that this wasn’t a fluke, and there had been other times, and it was like the same universe that threw them together on the flight was now doing everything it could to rip them apart. Like Crowley asking Aziraphale for his phone number had set in motion a chain of events where they could talk all they wanted but would never properly see one another again.

“I want it to,” Crowley said, knowing it likely wouldn’t make a difference but wanting to put it out there anyway. His voice croaked a bit with regret, feeling the farewell already being spoken between them.

“As do I, Crowley. But it seems… well, it seems we just can’t get it right, can we?”

Crowley swallowed, his eyes blurring a little.

“We could,” He tried, “We could… Guy Fawkes day. You must… shit, I’m actually in Scotland for the 5th, umm….”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said gently. “I adore you,” the words held so much tenderness, but it was flavored too strongly with goodbye.”

“I adore you, too, angel.”

“And I think… well, much as I’m not one to believe in such things, the more we miss each other, the more I wonder if-“

“Please don’t say it,” Crowley interrupted. “I know what it feels like, I know, I thought the same thing.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said again. “You’re in Scotland than Ireland than France, and so on for the next month. You’re not sure what else is going to happen, you even said there was a strong possibility of needing to go back stateside.”

“You’re breaking up with me,” Crowley said flatly.

Aziraphale let out a watery laugh. “My dear, I think we would have actually have had to be together for there to be a break-up.” He sighed. “Perhaps, maybe, in the new year… maybe if you’re in town for more than a few days you could look me up, see if I’m available. And if I am, we will go have lunch again, and perhaps we can start this whole thing over.”

“Or we could just keep going,” Crowley argued.

“I adore you,” Aziraphale repeated. “So much. But I strive for honesty, and I honestly am not sure I can continue the way things are.”

Crowley nodded before realizing he would need to speak. “Right. Right, yeah, I … yeah.”

“I’m so sorry,” Aziraphale replied, his voice cracking. 

“Yeah, me too.” Crowley huffed, resting his head on the seat. “But this isn’t goodbye, right? It’s just… bye for a bit. To give you space, to see if maybe….”

“Yes,” Aziraphale agreed. “Yes, just for a bit. A few months, maybe….”

Crowley heard the “maybe longer” that almost slipped out and was glad Aziraphale had never given it voice.

“Can I still text? Once in a while to keep in touch?”

“Oh, oh my dear, of course. Yes, absolutely I… I just… I want to keep you as my friend at the very least.”

“Me too,” Crowley said softly, voice barely loud enough to carry. “Anyway, I won’t keep you. And I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Aziraphale replied. “Mind how you go.”

 December

 “I hate to think of you alone,” Said as she followed Aziraphale around the shop’s back room. “You should come over! Newt’s coming, so’s my neighbor, Tracy. You’d love her.”

“Anathema, my dear, I really appreciate the offer. Truly. But I’m afraid I really just want to take some time to myself. I have finished two drafts to the point that I’m willing to let Gabriel look at. I plan to sit with a bottle of wine and a good book and enjoy that special sort of quiet Christmas always seems to bring.”

Anathema blinked. “Did you say bottle?”

“Yes, you’re right, of course, I think it’s more likely that there will be two, perhaps a third.”

“Lush,” She grumbled with a half-hearted smile. “As long as you’re sure. The invitation to come is open.”

“I’m positive,” Aziraphale assured.

It wasn’t actually what was likely to happen. 

After Halloween and the break-up with a man he wasn’t even really dating, Aziraphale poured himself into his work. Any moment he wasn’t writing he was either sleeping, eating something too delicious to be given half a mind to, or in the shop assisting until more staff came in.

And he only really just finished the work the night before, feeling as though he was finally finished and ready to move on to the more rigorous editing stages. The shop was in its last few minutes of business before they closed for Christmas eve, so when all was settled there would be nothing left to distract Aziraphale from the fact that a man who was rather perfect had slipped through his fingers.

He and Crowley still texted, of course. Their communication was spottier than it had been, far more random, but still very much them. The only thing they didn’t talk about was the man Crowley had been photographed with many times. Not that Aziraphale had been purposely looking for them, but he might have had a glance through the social media thing Anathema used, and he may have searched a few things. Which led to the images of Crowley with some bloke.

He supposed he could have asked, but how does one say “oh, I’ve seen you’ve moved on” without sounding rather like a stalker.

So Aziraphale did plan to read, to drink, but more he planned to allow himself a few moments to grieve while doing the drinking. To mourn the love that could have been with a man who was wonderful, and curse the stars for not aligning.

And, maybe, he might watch a film or two. There were some delightfully predictable holiday movies that would either lead to wistful sighing or mild raging.

Anathema probably suspected all of this, though she would say come the twenty-seventh that she predicted it. It’s probably why she kept staring at him while he bustled about pretending to look busy.

“Fine,” She said with a smile. “We’ll see you in a few days, okay? And call if you need to.”

“Will do, my dear girl. Mind how you go.” He said with a forced smile, giving a little wave to her as she turned and headed out the door. Once he was sure she was gone, he let out a sigh and flopped down in his office chair. A tiny bit of bookkeeping, then it’s up to his flat for some leftover lasagna and a bottle or two of wine.

 ~C~

 “Absolutely fucking not,” Crowley said pointedly as he checked on the very tiny turkey he had in his oven. Actually, it was labeled as a turkey breast roast, but he didn’t give a toss as long as it fell somewhere in the range of traditional.

“Oh come on,” Hastur egged him.

“No,” Crowley repeated. “Not going to any fucking parties, mate. I’m tired. It’s been a long-ass two months with Ligur and Bea always at each other’s throats. And if Eric’s going to be there? Look, he’s a great bloke, great on a keyboard, but it was low of Ligur to hire someone else when we’ve had Dagon doing this with us for years. All because he doesn’t want the fact that Bea and Dagon are a couple overshadowing him in the media.”

“Eric won’t be there, he’s with his partner in Edinburgh for the holidays. No drama.”

“Bullshit,” Crowley said, turning off the oven light and then checking on the rest of his little feast for one. “I have plans anyway.”

“You don’t have plans,” Hastur accused.

“I do,” Crowley retorted.

He wouldn’t say that those plans involved his little turkey roast, the potatoes that were premade and just had to be popped in the oven, the bag of frozen vegetables in the freezer, and the jar of gravy waiting on the counter. He didn’t mention he intended to watch the Muppet version of a Christmas Carol, and depending on how he was feeling, perhaps some other festive-

Wait. Turkey, potatoes, vegetables, gravy….

“Oh fuck sakes!” Crowley cursed.

“What?” Hastur asked.

“Nothing,” Crowley replied, glancing at the time, seeing now he would have to go a bit further than a simple walk to get what he needed. “Look, you guys enjoy your drunken merriment. I’m going to remember we’re in our forties and stay the fuck home.”

“Right,” Haster sighed, apparently giving up. “Enjoy your Christmas, loser.”

“Yeah, happy Christmas to you, too.” He grumbled before getting on his boots and coat and heading down to the parking garage to get his Bentley.

A blood loose fuel hose had been the cause of her stuttering to a stop nearly two months ago. The mechanic was good, though. Better apparently than the one who had serviced the Bentley just a month before the accident. He’d gotten the hose fixed, the dent properly taken out, and refinished the car just in time for Crowley to get her the day before. 

As he drove to the shop, he wondered how different things would be now if he’d only taken his car to be serviced by a decent mechanic. One who probably had hoped to make a little extra money off a semi-celebrity when the fuel hose inevitably needed fixing.

Would Aziraphale be his by the end of the night, or would they continue in this sort of cat and mouse over video they had been doing? Would the universe have deemed them ready to actually have what they both wanted? 

Probably not. Not with the way every other aspect of Crowley’s life had been going.

He wasn’t even sure there would be a band to be in for his minor celebrity come the new year.

Most everyone was home, even in this area of London, and so Crowley was able to find parking on the side of the road in front of the little shop. He got out, noting the first signs of new snow fluttering down around him, then went inside.

The little bell tinkled, and the man at the counter glanced up at him with a smile before continuing to serve the line of customers getting their last-minute wares.

Crowley weaved his way around the aisles, heading for the canned goods and spotting the missing piece to his sad little dinner: jellied cranberry sauce.

Prize obtained, he spun on his heel and headed for the cue,  prepared to spend the next fifteen to twenty minutes waiting to make his purchase.

The bell chimed over the door, and Crowley looked up from the can as the man in front of him looked over his shoulder to the door, and their eyes met.

“Aziraphale?”

 “Crowley,” Aziraphale clutched his bottle of wine a little tighter, unsure how to handle this unexpected encounter.

He hadn’t had anything more than a bottle of wine in his flat, which was rather suspect as he recalled Anathema leaving his flat while holding her bag rather more steady than normal. Likely out of concern for him since it was the cheaper bottle that had gone missing.

The cork in the good one had been stubborn, and Aziraphale had jerked just enough, just near enough to the counter, that he hit the bottle on the edge and smashed it. He got the cork out, at least.

Once the mess and himself were cleaned up, he put on his winter gear and headed out on the longer than he’d like to have walk to the nearest shop still open. The wine selection was poor, no surprise there. But cheap was better than none, and while he was rather particular he wasn’t going to spend all of Christmas eve night tromping around London looking for a place still open that had a bottle of wine at least a decade old.

He wasn’t sure why he looked up when the bell chimed a moment ago. Maybe to silently warn the patron that they would be in for a long wait, maybe just because he was curious. He hadn’t expected to see Crowley behind him seemingly completely unaware of his being there.

“H-hi.” Crowley stuttered, jaw still dropped and eyes still wide. “H-happy Christmas.”

“You as well,” Aziraphale replied warmly. He looked down to see the loan can of cranberry sauce in Crowley’s hand. “Forgot something?” He mused.

“Ah, yeah,” Crowley said, looking down at the can in his hands momentarily like he forgot he even had it. “Umm… was… well the turkey was almost done. Turkey roast, actually. And, umm… cranberries. Mum was always big on having them and…. Well, you know, I told you the whole thing. Just thought I would do right by her, you know?”

“You volunteered, I take it? Letting that fellow you’ve been seeing stay home, relax?” Aziraphale asked, moving ahead.  

Crowley frowned as he followed. “Not seeing anyone.” He replied.

Aziraphale frowned. “But the photos. On the, umm, insta-thing. And in the news. Well, no news, I suppose, but you know what I mean.”

“Oh!” Crowley’s face lit up, a smile curling his lips. “No, not seeing him. That’s Eric. Sorta’ve a war thing going on in the band right now. ‘S a long story.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, trying not to let the rush of relief overwhelm him as he found himself next in line. He paid for his bottle, then stepped aside, waiting for Crowley who glanced his way every couple of seconds.

Once Crowley had paid for his item, they headed out of the shop together.

Aziraphale found himself standing on the sidewalk a few feet away from the door, looking at Crowley who shuffled from one foot to the other.

“Well-“

“Do you want to have dinner with me?” Crowley cut Aziraphale off, the words rushing out rather quickly as he suddenly went still. “You can come to my place, if you’d like. I, umm… it’s just me. And it’s nothing really fancy but it’s, you know, traditional, sorta.”

A whole year of wanting exactly this. A dinner with this man whom he’d gotten to know so very well, who he still loved rather dearly despite never having had a date with him.

He would never have been out had it not been for that silly cork in the bottle. He wouldn’t have had to work so hard for the cork to come loose if Anathema hadn’t presumably stolen the other. 

He could say no, let Crowley walk away, say he wasn’t ready to try this all over again. But after all those lost moments they could have had, that they planned, only to find himself in the same shop as Crowley on Christmas eve? Well, it felt like part of some grand, ineffable plan that Aziraphale wasn’t about to question.

He smiled, “I’d be delighted.”

 ~C~

 Christmas morning was bright and sunny, the light peeking through Crowley’s blinds and stirring him into awareness. He tightened his hold around Aziraphale and smiled against his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his skin and thinking it was by far the absolute best Christmas ever.

They shared the dinner Crowley made with the bottle of wine Aziraphale had purchased. Like the plane ride, like that one lunch, like all their many video calls the conversation flowed easily. It was like they hadn’t spent nearly two months barely speaking, trying to give one another space.

“You know,” Aziraphale had said as they finished up their meal, “Call me an old silly, but I rather think that maybe we were meant to meet around now. If you believe in such things as destiny and all that.” He had amended before taking a sip of his wine.

“I had thought that,” Crowley had admitted. “That maybe fate or the universe or whatever was purposely keeping us apart.”

“You know I happen to be finished with writing for a bit. I imagine I might have about two weeks before I really need to get back to it all. Holidays and all.”

“Yeah, me too.” Crowley had agreed. “Maybe we can spend them together?”

Aziraphale had merely blushed and smiled but didn’t agree. Which wasn’t what Crowley had been hoping for since the moment he had seen Aziraphale in the shop.

It had felt like all the stars aligned and he was being given the gift of the one thing he really wanted that year for Christmas, his angel. A chance to maybe try this all over again. He couldn’t let Aziraphale walk away without an invitation, and Crowley tried very hard to continue to act cool when Aziraphale had agreed.

Dinner finished and they moved to the sofa. Another bottle of wine was open, and Crowley and Aziraphale lost themselves in conversation, drifting ever closer with one another with every lean forward to the coffee table. 

“You could stay for the night if you’d like.” Crowley had said when the clock hit eleven and the pair realized how much time they had lost together. “I’m not anywhere near drunk but I’m feeling the wine a little and I don’t dare drive. It’s a bit back to your place from here for a walk, and the buses-“

“Crowley,” Aziraphale had interrupted, causing him to snap his mouth shut.

Aziraphale had seemed to debate with himself for a while, hands wringing and brow furrowing until he sat suddenly straighter. He slowly reached for Crowley, cupping his cheek before leaning in at the same speed. Crowley was very certain he knew what was about to happen, but he didn’t dare move at all until Aziraphale’s lips made contact with his.

And then he went absolutely mad. 

At some point, they had stumbled down to Crowley’s bedroom.

“Happy Christmas,” Aziraphale mumbled sleepily, a smile to his voice.

“It is a happy Christmas indeed,” Crowley agreed, leaning away to allow Aziraphale to roll over and face him. He was given the gift of the first of what he hoped were many good morning kisses. “Have anywhere you need to be today?”

“No,” Aziraphale assured. “Anathema, Newton, and I all exchanged presents yesterday. And you, are you expecting anyone?”

“No, me and the band do something for the new year instead.”

“So I suppose, if we wanted to, we could stay here for the whole day,” Aziraphale observed as he ran a hand down Crowley’s back. 

“Oh, I rather like the sound of that.” Crowley agreed, leaning in and kissing Aziraphale as if he would never see him again.

 January

 When Crowley got home from the studio, he felt absolutely wretched. Days of being cooped up, sleeping on the floor when he could, drinking far too much coffee, and eating the absolute worst food he just wanted to climb in the shower, drink a liter of water, and sleep for a week.

But when he opened the door to the flat the most wonderful aroma of Italian herbs and warm bread wafted toward him. He could hear the faint bubbling of something cooking on the stove, and soothing jazz from the 1920s was playing at just the right volume on his high-end sound system.

He didn’t feel quite so wretched anymore, nor tired, and he shut the door with a smile. Tossing his jacket on the rack, and toeing off his boots, he scooted his way into the kitchen to find Aziraphale at the stove with a gentle smile on his face.

“You weren’t supposed to be here until tomorrow,” Crowley said as he went up behind his boyfriend and wrapped his arms around him.

Aziraphale chuckled. “I bumped my flight up a day. There wasn’t anything I needed to do further, so I came home. Thought I would surprise you.”

“You did, I like it.” He said, kissing Aziraphale’s neck before going to get himself a glass of water. “So when I texted you that I was leaving the studio and would call when I got in?”

“I was already here. I came here right from the airport, actually. I caught a few hours of sleep, then simply worked until I heard from you.”

Crowley grinned, increasingly pleased with himself that he gave Aziraphale a key two days after Christmas. They had only just officially started to see each other, but it was hardly like they hadn’t already known more about each other than most couples do when officially moving in.

And since that day, they spent more time together than apart. It was almost like Aziraphale had moved in. There was a draw of his things and a spot in Crowley’s closet. He had a toothbrush by the bathroom sink and even had a few of his favorite books and records mingled in with Crowley’s collection.

“So, no charming ginger blokes on the flight then?” Crowley teased before taking a drink of his water.

“No, I actually was alone this time. No seat partner.”

“Good. ‘M not sharing.”

“Quite right,” Aziraphale chuckled. “Now, go wash up so we can have dinner together before you sleep.”

Crowley kissed his boyfriend quickly before heading off to do just that.

And after dinner, they did settle into bed. It was still quite early, so Aziraphale had brought a book, planning to read while Crowley caught up on some much-needed rest.

As he began to drift off to sleep, Crowley became quite determined that if they made it through the whole year with fewer video calls than physically being with one another in person then he would ask this man to marry him.

[a-very-fond-farewell]

The forbidden crack! Untamed prompts: 24/?

CLAMP AU n.3 [chengyu? yucheng? (JC/MXY) edition. don’t...question my taste bruh]: “Somewhere, sometime.”

[tw eating disorders mentioned + tw suicide mention (body sacrifice)]

[ok fam. ok. I get it. I would basically ship JC with a rock if it meant I could play with my crack AUs. but I have solid evidence for this one. I promise you.]

[so, “Kobato” from CLAMP is possibly my favorite series from them. it’s 6 volumes long, roughly 40 chapters (and I only recently found out there was an epilogue...even though it was not there in my published version of the series. bc your local cryptid did in fact buy the entire thing in the flesh, that’s how much I love it)]

[in this AU I’ll change some things for the sake of consistency, but I suggest you read it bc the hurt/comfort and pining is enjoyable...so...if you read my silly AU I’m afraid I will spoil the plot for u :( and that’s the last thing I want to do...I understand if you decide to go read the manga and skip my prompt. it’s ok, I’m fine, go and have fun ;-;]

[if you kept reading, hi :D]

[now. am I uncomfortable with certain common tropes in CLAMP’s work in general? yes. especially the age gaps between some of the characters, some of which are not adults. hence the reason behind the changes in this AU. but! the aesthetics fam. the beautiful drawings. the cute outfits. (*ﾉ▽ﾉ)

do you see these?? how cute would Mo XuanYu look in these fam?? I honestly hc him enjoying skirts and feminine outfits a whole lot, but you can imagine him with pants and they would be just as cute. my favorite one is the second from the left btw.]

(imagine Mo XuanYu like this btw and check out the fancomic by the same op! an anon suggested it to me a while ago and now I’m hooked!)

[other mangacaps bc you need visuals:

yeah. angry boy meets bby with a mission to accomplish, bonding over their inferiority complex. yep. I only love the nicest things in life. that’s me.

also look at my baby girl ;-; so cuTe]

[the title is from the ost from the anime series, “Itsuka dokoka de” (check it out!). the anime feels more cohesive than the original manga, possibly bc the pacing is handled a little bit better (since the manga was cut short and the end felt a bit sloppy, but the emotional engagement was still good). and I remember being 17 and crying like a baby when this song came in. if you don’t have time for the manga binge the anime instead! there are plot holes in both of them and the stories are different but still both very enjoyable if you like soft things and angsty vibes.]

[enjoy!]

*

*

When YanLi saw him for the first time in front of her door, at the beginning of spring, she thought XuanYu was too pretty and too young for his own good. Sitting across her on the floor, a tea set between them as he politely answered her questions, the boy couldn’t have looked older than sixteen yet he assured her he was of age and well into adulthood. Which seemed pretty difficult to assess, not with the way he dressed: cute button down, beret slightly askew on top of his pretty head and an old-looking suitcases in hand. She didn’t mention the stuffed black rabbit poking out from the front pocket of his luggage, which seemed more of a comfort thing than a reliable source of company.

Moreover, Jin Ling seemed transfixed by him, toddling his way towards their guest asking for cuddles... something her son had never done in front of strangers.

XuanYu refused to give his last name, nor did he have an ID he could show her, nor did he seem worried about how strange that was. And YanLi knew ZiXuan would have been against it, but she couldn’t leave the kid looking all over Lanling for a place to stay... so she gave him the only available room in their rundown pension.

She only hoped Jiang Cheng would be a nice neighbor and leave the kid alone. Who knew what horrors XuanYu was running away from, after all.

*

When XiChen heard from YanLi of her new tenant, he would have never guessed the kid to look so naive. Not in a bad way, mind you. But his smiles, for how genuine they seemed to be, looked a little bit too big. A little bit too strained not to be a distraction tactic from his part. Or maybe XiChen had lived too long surrounded by fake smiles and closed off people to not worry.

That’s probably why he gave XuanYu a job when YanLi asked him to look over the kid. More to prove himself there were still trustworthy people in the world than to give the younger man a chance. He couldn’t even pay him a full salary, not with the debt collectors breathing on his neck as he tried to run his late mother’s kindergarten.

But maybe that would have been enough for now. A starting point for something better, something new.

*

A-Yuan had always known the kindergarten used to be an orphanage back in the days, but now he had reached an age where doubts stuck to his head instead of being forgotten with the passing of time. Wen Qing and A-Ning were always busy -be it in the hospital or in university- and A-Yuan didn’t know if they loved him enough to keep him. Ever since granny had passed away he had wondered, day after day, when his cousins would have left him behind for good.

He was thinking about such things when he first met XuanYu, on the man’s first day on the job as a teaching assistant. A-Yuan was mulling over his sadness when XuanYu had come to his rescue, asking him what was wrong... before enthusiastically praising his cousins for working so hard after hearing they were late to take A-Yuan home. XuanYu stayed with him and they played on the swings as they waited for A-Ning to come pick him up, apologizing profusely.

On the way home, his cousin held him close and kissed his forehead as he asked him if he had had fun with the new teacher. And A-Yuan felt less doubtful afterwards.

*

After hearing the story from her brother, Wen Qing had made it her job to look into XuanYu and his weird approach to life in general. She took every opportunity she could grasp to spy on the younger man, lunch breaks be damned. She needed to confirm if the kid was a trust worthy person or a runaway child pretending to be older than what he actually was. Well, maybe tailing an unsuspecting young man on the streets of Lanling in scrubs and sunglasses would be considered a bit much, she could admit as much. But it was the thought that counted, no?

Her friend MianMian told her to knock it off and talk to the kid like a normal human being, but the truth was that... well, XuanYu was really too weird to be considered normal. He seldom put himself in dangerous situations without much care, such as picking up a random (and still lit) cigarette from the ground just to give it back to the person who had “accidentally dropped it”. Other times he would cross a road without looking left and right first, risking to be run over by cars at every corner. He never, never, fumbled with a phone and he frequently talked to himself... sometimes even directing his words to that creepy stuffed rabbit of his.

No thank you, Wen Qing felt safer behind light poles and crumpled newspapers held upside down. Even if that made her look sketchy as fuck.

*

Wen Ning made sure to arrive on time to pick A-Yuan up after that time, often chatting with XuanYu as they waited for his baby cousin to retrieve his backpack and raincoat. It was refreshing to speak with the younger man, no matter how weird he acted sometimes. Like that time A-Yuan asked him to tie his shoe-laces for him and XuanYu didn’t know how to do it. Or that time they caught the man taking a nap on the floor in the middle of the school hall. Or that time XiChen had ordered a cake for one of the kids’ birthday and XuanYu didn’t seem to know how to sing the birthday song.

Wen Ning had no place to judge, after all. But XuanYu’s smiles felt like balm on his heart. And if his sweet voice followed Wen Ning home as he bounced A-Yuan in his arms, well. Nobody needed to know that.

*

The last thing Meng Yao would have expected to hear that summer day when he called the kindergarten was a voice so different from XiChen’s. Startled, he had confusedly asked if the kid worked there and how so, given that the school definitely couldn’t afford to hire anyone. He ought to know. He was the debt collector.

But the kid apologized, introduced himself, and then explained XiChen had offered him a part-time job out of kindness more than out of need. The idiot. XiChen should have remembered who his money belonged to instead of taking charity cases left and right.

But when Meng Yao said as much to naive XuanYu, the other vehemently protested, surprising the debt collector with strong opinions on how he shouldn’t underestimate other people’s intelligence and kindness in the first place.

Meng Yao laughed out at that, genuinely so.

There was more to that kid XuanYu than what one would have expected.

*

Nie HuaiSang caught a first glimpse of the mystery man only in late summer, when XuanYu stepped into his cake shop to look at the display. His coworker MianMian seemed to recognize the younger man immediately, greeting him by saying they had a friend in common, namely Wen Qing. The kid merely tilted his head and answered he had never formerly met “Miss. Wen” and that he only knew who she was from what the woman’s younger brother had told him about her.

MianMian shrugged and smiled at him.

To which HuaiSang asked him what they could do for him and XuanYu... just... stopped working. Saying that he had wondered if he could do something for them instead. Apparently, Wen Ning had let it slip they were currently understaffed and needed a hand to deliver their sweets.

Delighted, MianMian set him to work, no matter how many times HuaiSang assured her they didn’t need to force the kid to help them... also because they didn’t actually have the means to pay him in kind. But XuanYu refused money altogether, simply asking them to let him help.

To their amusement (and horror) XuanYu didn’t know how to ride a bicycle, so he insisted on covering the deliveries by foot in the neighborhood instead.

HuaiSang called XiChen on the phone that same evening, asking him to give the kid some slack the following day. And maybe buy him some balm for blisters as well.

*

Jin Ling was young but he wasn’t stupid. Turning three had made him wiser, he knew as much. So he knew XuanYu was magical. He just did.

His pretty-gege talked with stuffed animals, always wore nice things, and kept in his satchel bag a vial filling up with magical candies every time he did something nice for others. A-Ling had seen it with his own eyes, that time XuanYu had put a plaster on his scrapped knee and blew on it to make the pain go away: the golden candy had appeared in the bottle out of nowhere and XuanYu had asked him to keep the secret.

And A-Ling may have been young, but he wasn’t a snitch.

No sir.

*

ZiXuan eventually stumbled upon their new tenant even though YanLi had tried everything in her power to prevent it. He was very displeased with her: taking a scrawny kid in, cutting his rent in half merely because he couldn’t afford to pay the room in full. Utter nonsense.

No matter how much this kid XuanYu praised A-Ling’s personality or YanLi’s cooking, no matter how much he smiled and made himself look accommodating and unthreatening. ZiXuan didn’t work pro bono even at the firm, let alone for his wife’s business.

Yet, when he asked to be let inside the kid’s room to formally discuss the terms of his contract (and tell him to pack his things and leave at the end of summer), ZiXuan was left speechless. There was no bed, no table or chairs. The fridge wasn’t humming and the AC wasn’t working. The only things he could see were the younger man’s clothes neatly folded in his open suitcase or hanging by the window to dry. No books, no snacks, no nothing.

Usually tenants brought their things in right off the bat, their stuff mailed in within a week after moving in. YanLi was very particular about it, she would have not overlooked something like that. But maybe she had been too busy with A-Ling these past few months and hadn’t noticed the kid was actually too poor to even breathe.

And now that he looked at him, XuanYu looked suspiciously skinny.

Was he sleeping on the floor? Didn’t he have covers for the colder season? Was his fridge broken, empty, or -gods forbid- purposely left with no power because the kid couldn’t afford the electricity bill?

“Do you actually live like this?”

XuanYu didn’t answer to that, but smiled anyway. It looked sinister in a way ZiXuan couldn’t explain, afraid of the things such a young man may or may not have endured in the past. And was maybe still enduring now.

The following day ZiXuan gave the kid their spare futon they bought in Japan on their honeymoon. They never had guests anyway and they could afford to pay for a tenant’s electricity bill every now and then, they weren’t poor.

Certainly YanLi would have agreed with him on the matter.

*

JinGy saw it. He did! He wasn’t lying! Xuan-ge was there, surrounded by darkness and shadows, looking over the children during their nap time, only a sliver of light coming from the door left ajar... casting shadows on half of his pretty face.

And he saw him reviving that stuffed black rabbit he always had on him.

The rabbit just rose on his hind legs and turned his head up and started whispering things to Xuan-ge, who nodded every now and then in deep though.

JinGyi had read about how paper-man talismans had been stuff of legends in the past. His books spoke of ancient times in which even corpses could be brought back to life. How even animals could turn into godly beasts if enough resentful energy polluted them. But he would have never thought magic could actually be real and so easy to play with.

And Xuan-ge had looked nothing but beautiful as he was talking to the stuffed animal, humming softly under his breath.

*

When Jiang Cheng dropped out of university for the second time, YanLi didn’t say anything and instead welcomed him back in his old room. So much for enrolling in law school at twenty-three, uh? ZiXuan would have been disappointed in him like the first time that had happened in his bachelor anyway, no point in avoiding the man. It was autumn anyway: it was either going back to the apartment complex or look for a new flatmate. But the school housing had rightfully kicked him out after dropping out in the middle of the academic year, so there would have been little hope for him to find a new place anytime soon.

What he did not expect to find was a new tenant living next door.

Sleeping in front of the door, clutching a satchel bag and a fucking stuffed animal on his lap.

Jiang Cheng jolted him awake and took in the sight of his shoulder length hair, his long lashes and sleepy eyes and thought he looked ridiculous. Wearing a silly hat and moccasins, purple shadows under his eyes, a confused expression on his worn out face. When asked what the hell he was doing there, sleeping out of his room instead of inside of it, the younger man said he had forgotten his keys inside that morning.

He was clearly an idiot, so Jiang Cheng walked away and returned to his room after more than a year away. If someone asked him who had rung YanLi to bring the spare keys to help the idiot he would have shrugged at them and shut the door in their face.

He didn’t have time for that, he had to think how to ask XiChen to let him back to work at the school the following day.

*

A-Qing had seen many things in life, met many horrible people, dealt with the scum of the scum... but she had yet to meet XuanYu. 

A menace. A hurricane. A fool. The amount of times she had had to scoop him up from the ground after he had clumsily slipped on invisible bananas and such should have earned her a honorary title for outstanding citizen. It’s been months since his arrival and the kids had already learned to make way whenever they saw him. He inspired fear even in their tiny heads, honestly. What a fellow teaching assistant, really.

She was just there to score brownie points for his electives and internship program to become a social service worker, that was true. But she cared about the kids enough to know she had to do something about that. The children loved XuanYu and they were this fucking close to either worship him like a small deity or criminal and something ought to be done.

The last thing she would have expected to see, however, was Jiang Cheng coming back so soon. Crawling back from university to ask to work there, wagging his tail like the lovesick dog he was. She could easily imagine what the older student would have said to XiChen, something on the line of “you know goddamn well I’m not doing it for the money. I grew up here, I don’t want to see this place crumbling down. I’m definitely not doing it because I’m in love with you and seeing you sad makes me want to gag.”

Well, maybe the last part could be considered artistic license from her part, but judging by what she could overhear behind XiChen’s office door... yep. She had definitely nailed the part about being fond of the ex-orphanage and for the rest... the sentiment was there. The pining bastard.

“Do you need anything, A-Qing?”, XuanYu asked her out of no-fucking-where, startling her as she pretended to dust off the floor very close to a door. Cheek-plastered-on-it kind of close.

“Nothing. Mind your business,” she answered, flustered as fuck.

XuanYu couldn’t be that naive, he knew what he was fucking doing. His creepy little smile so similar to the one the debt collect always had on his face. No wonder XiChen had fallen for such a tricky bitch.

“Then will you help me find JinGyi? He doesn’t want me to help him with his project for the festival and went into hiding again.”

There, that smile and knowing gaze. Judging poser. He looked much older than his alleged twenty years. He knew what he was fucking doi...

“You?!”

Jiang Cheng’s honest-to-gods screech pulled A-Qing out of her thoughts. She turned and had to witness XiChen amiably patting Jiang Cheng on the head as their boss explained him how XuanYu worked there. 

“It’s been almost six months now, he’s a very valuable kid and helped out around here while you were studying.”

Jiang Cheng was both livid and red with longing, because his touch-starved ass was all over that hand patting him platonically on the head. He was also angry, which was default for him... but there was something else underneath. Something promising in the way he stared XuanYu down.

Maybe A-Qing could win some candy by betting with the kids about such unexpected turn of events.

*

ZiZhen believed A-Yi. If his friend had told him the new teacher assistant was a witch then he was right. So they had started researching witches at the school, but only found a couple of colored books on the matter, mostly useless. All but one, telling the story of a nanny called Mary Poppins... some western thing.

But everything checked for the most part. The hat was there, every day a different one, but ultimately never leaving XuanYu’s head. The umbrella was not, but both him and A-Yuan had seen their gege with a parasol once and that was enough. His satchel contained infinite amount of things, from sweets to possessed stuffed animals, like a qiankun bag from the legends! He talked with things as if he could control them.

Well, even the teacher sometimes tried to convince the printer to work with sweet words, gently coaxing it back to life... maybe that was just how adults functioned. Even his dad would ask the fridge where his favorite cake had disappeared sometimes. Adults were weird.

*

Fuck Lanling. Rain day and night, autumn planning everyone’s demise by flooding every bloody year. Xue Yang was over it.

He took a random umbrella from the rack by the door of the convenience store and left without a second thought, already wondering what he could say to convince XingChen to offer him dinner somewhere new. The man wasn’t married anymore after all, so Xue Yang could technically have his way with him now, right?

“Excuse me!”

Xue Yang was not in the mood for people calling him out on his bullshit that night, but he turned anyway and saw the weirdest thing. A young man roughly his age, maybe a year or so younger, drenched from head to toe after rushing to him. He was panting, clutching a plastic bag full of cleaning supplies from the convenience store Xue Yang had just left.

“I believe you mistakenly took my umbrella,” the other said, pretty face framed by wet hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks.

Amused, Xue Yang shut the clear plastic umbrella he had “mistakenly taken” and held it at arm’s length by the handle, directing the pointy edge to the other like a sword. Hell if he was going to get wet himself, he needed to prove something to the idiot. He could handle a bit of rain for the sake of being dramatic.

“You want it back?” Xue Yang asked, rising his chin and arching an eyebrow at the other. The man nodded, holding his now wet beret in place on top of his head as if he was more worried about it falling on the ground than keeping his crown dry.

“I knew it was someone else’s when I took it.”

“But...?”

“And what’ll you give me back for it? What are you gonna do about it?”

This should have taught him not to mess with him: he didn’t even have to use his business tone to make the other take a step back. Meng Yao, the bastard, had taught him smiles went a long way in dealing with stupid people after all.

“Right, if I take it from you... you won’t have one to go back home with.”

Uh?

“Wait here. I’ll go buy you one at the convenience store. I’ll be back.”

Uh??

The idiot actually run back to the store and purchased him a fucking umbrella. And Xue Yang was twice as stupid because he waited for him to come back, startled as he was. The idiot was smiling megawatt bright when he came back as well, what the fuck?

The sick bastard extended the clear plastic umbrella to him like Xue Yang had done earlier, but he held it by the middle, as if surrendering his weapon. It was fairly similar to the one Xue Yang had stolen anyway, why bother asking for his umbrella back?

“Did your dead mother give this particular one to you or something?”

The bite in his words only mildly deterred the other man, who pressed his lips together before forcing an even bigger smile on his face.

“No. It’s pretty cheap. But it’s mine. It’s the first thing I bought with my money.”

Xue Yang left after that. With the stolen umbrella. Because he was still a scumbag and not a sentimental asshole. But he was very quiet that evening when XingChen treated him to some fancy takeout on his couch while lovingly drying Xue Yang’s hair with a towel.

Nothing made sense anymore.

*

Qin Su worried over Jiang Cheng. He was her best worker, but she knew for a fact that he had a million part-time jobs in town and she didn’t want to overwork him. She also knew he would give all of his hard-earned money to XiChen anyway. All to pay a stupid debt. The huge lovesick idiot.

Was he the fastest delivery driver? Yes. Was he the most well behaved of his staff? Not even close. But he was respectful enough to work over his issues and she trusted him with doing his job at the end of the day.

So when she found a young man in a frilly outfit waiting for her on the lobby of her shop asking for Jiang Cheng... well, she was pleasantly surprised.

He introduced himself as XuanYu and held a lunch box in his hands, saying Jiang Cheng had forgotten it at home. Which left A-Su properly impressed. How could a man as angry as Jiang Cheng secure himself such a lovely person was beyond her comprehension, honestly.

He was adorable and she wanted to be his sister like, yesterday.

But when Jiang Cheng came back from a delivery, entering the dumpling shop with his helmet still on, he stared XuanYu down and told him off right off the bat.

“Not you again,” he said, to A-Su’s utter confusion, “Can’t you take a fucking hint? I’m already avoiding you at work. I don’t want to be your friend.”

Something akin to hurt painted XuanYu’s feature for a fraction of a second before he could retrieve his smile and point at the lunch box.

“Your sister asked me to give this to you on my way out. A-Ling helped making rice cakes this time and wanted to hear from you if you liked them or not.”

Qin Su could have easily missed the change in XuanYu’s voice at that, that’s how much of a good actor he was. But Jiang Cheng had no face even to feel ashamed for lashing out at the kid like that. How much older could he be from XuanYu, three years? Two? Had nobody taught him some respect?

“XuanYu, if he bullies you again you come here. Am I understood?”

Like hell she was gonna let this gem of a child slip away from Jiang Cheng’s hands.

Not in a million years.

*

Song Lan breathed in and out. In and out. The clear morning air surrounded him like an old friend, hugging him closely as he clutched the papers for his divorce.

XingChen had signed them in the end. Five years together were now in the past for him.

Maybe they had been too young back then, when they had taken the chance to get married the moment the government announced the change in the law for people like them. How old have they been, twenty-three? Twenty-four? Another lifetime. An existence away.

He wished he could cry. It would have been easier.

But, as he turned a corner, someone stumbled into him and sent the papers scattering on the sidewalk. Song Lan tried to save them from being dirtied on a puddle but was unsuccessful. He didn’t know why he bothered anymore. It felt like the last piece of his lover had left and Song Lan couldn’t even prevent something as simple as that. XingChen’s signature dirtied in a pool, but not enough to be washed away. What a joke.

The young man in front him bowed down, apologizing profusely, trying to save the documents at the best of his abilities. He even suggested finding a public toilet to dry the sheets under the hot air blowing machine, the silly man.

Song Lan smiled instead, reassuring him it was fine.

He was fine.

But the kid accidentally read the first few lines of the agreement before looking up at Song Lan. And where he would have expected pity, Song Lan only saw consternation instead on his pale face. It was so startling to see it, that he had to crouch back down on the ground next to the kid and reassure him everything was fine. It was just paper, it wasn’t important, he didn’t have to feel so guilty about...

“It is important. Your life is important.”

Such a dramatic sentence, uttered so vehemently, should have sounded weird to Song Lan. Especially because he disapproved of such antics in the first place. But it sounded so sincere, so earnest that he felt touched for a moment.

So he helped the kid up on his feet and asked him to walk a bit with him, to keep him company. Reserved as he was, he would have never thought possible opening up to a stranger the way he did that day. But there was something calming about the kid, almost as if he had been put on earth to soothe other people’s existence.

So he told him how his husband had fallen in love with someone else, someone much younger than them. How this had strained their marriage even if Song Lan had known all along his husband had the ability to fall in love with more than one person at a time. But Song Lan was monogamous and would have never justified forcing his lover to suppress his feelings just to please him. So it had been Song Lan himself to call it quits and wish him all the luck in the world.

The kid had started crying at some point, without Song Lan even noticing at first.

“Why are you crying? Please no, I didn’t wan to upset you.”

“So much love. In different ways but... it’s too much. There’s so much of it, of course I’m crying for you and your loved one.”

Song Lan was many things. Too stern, too rigid, too peculiar about who could touch him or not, too cold in expressing his emotions. But he felt warm then, in front of a kid crying for him in the middle of the street, one day of late autumn.

“Thank you.”

***

XuanYu let it slip once with Mrs. Jin how little he remembered of his past. 

It wasn’t a lie, he really didn’t remember what it had been of him before he had met her, asking for a room. But the kind woman just assumed he was talking about his past or youth, so he didn’t correct her on the matter.

Knowing the truth would have scared her, after all.

But he still let himself trust her that day as they sat in front of a pot of tea and he pretended to drink and eat the pastries on the low table. He didn’t need to eat or drink. He wasn’t even sure he had a digestive system.

“I only remember... a song.”

“A song?”

“Yes. Someone singing every night before falling asleep. I don’t think it was meant for me to hear... but my body remembers the shivers. The feeling of being loved.”

“The body remembers the weirdest things, XuanYu. You should trust it more.”

He smiled at that, wriggling his hands on the handkerchief where he had hidden the pastries from sight.

“I’m pretty sure that song wasn’t for me. My body was merely there to listen.”

YanLi looked uncomfortable at that, something scary painting her features.

“Maybe I was eavesdropping,” he reassured her with a self-deprecating joke, not sure if that would have made her feel more at ease or not, “Maybe I was listening in, hoping such lovely words could be directed at me for once.”

Mrs. Jin sipped her tea for a long while afterwards, before finding the resolution to look up and stare him down with a serious expression.

“Unrequited feelings hurt, don’t they?”

XuanYu didn’t know what she meant by that, but he nodded anyway.

He heard something rustling in his bag and hid the sweets inside of it the moment YanLi turned to clear the table. If A-Ling heard someone munching their protests away from inside of the bag, he didn’t snitch on XuanYu and retrieved playing with Fairy on the carpeted floor next to him instead.

*

Lan Zhan was disappointed in him, XuanYu knew that much. They were admiring the sunset from the small balcony in their room, folding laundry.

XuanYu always wondered why Lan Zhan assumed the form of a black stuffed rabbit, of all things, but he didn’t want to pry. He didn’t even know his real name. The other had told him he used to be a human in his past life and that he hadn’t technically reincarnated in this lifetime. That his current form was just a mean to a goal, that he could use it to guide XuanYu and help him better that way without expending much spiritual energy.

He told him someone dear to him taught him how to manipulate paper-man talismans in his previous life. How similar the process had been to move around in a stuffed animal’s body. How convenient.

XuanYu believed he secretly loved it, even if Lan Zhan would have never said as much. He already talked very little to begin with.

“You told her you don’t remember your past.”

“That I did.”

“Don’t do it again”

XuanYu folded the last towel on his lap and then let Lan Zhan take a nap on it. He felt silly having to take showers and pretend to be a normal human being. He hated inconveniencing the Jins with him, accepting their bedding and paid kitchen appliances and so on. But if he wanted to accomplish his mission he had to make an effort to look normal... instead of spirited away from another world or maybe simply another era.

“I won’t do it again, don’t worry Lan Zhan.”

*

Lan Zhan was disappointed, but he was also patient to a fault.

Sure, it would have been much appreciated if Mo XuanYu didn’t lose him around every other day. This time the younger man had forgotten to pick him up from the floor where he had been reading stories to the children at the kindergarten.

But Lan Zhan was also a stuffed animal now, so it wasn’t like he could move around and risk being seeing by normal humans. His body was a vessel and any damage would have had repercussions on his soul as well. 

What to do.

He tried not to panic when he felt someone picking him up from the floor after an hour or so. He silently prayed for them not to be A-Qing: even in this life she was too smart for her own good and he couldn’t risk being found out so soon. Mo XuanYu wasn’t even halfway to complete his mission and Lan Zhan couldn’t...

“I’m sure A-Yu is looking for you, little guy. What are doing all the way back here?”

It was always difficult to hear his older brother’s voice in this life. To see his face, to notice how sad he was even in this new reincarnation of his.

Lan Zhan didn’t move a single muscle as XiChen dusted him off and put him in his apron front pocket as he looked for “A-Yu”.

In order to give a second chance to Mo XuanYu, Lan Zhan had sacrificed any possibility to ever reincarnate until his mission was accomplished. So XiChen didn’t have a younger brother in this lifetime and he would have not had one for a while. Lan Zhan missed him, but they had to wait for a bit more.

They still had three months to fill the bottle the King of Hell had entrusted Mo XuanYu with. Then he would have entered the list for reincarnation once more and everything will have been fine in the end.

Lan Zhan owed the kid his life, so he trusted him.

No matter what.

*

XuanYu remembered the boy who had stolen his umbrella. He remembered him well enough to recognize him when he found him crawling on the floor, a stab wound in his belly, one winter night.

Panicked, he asked Lan Zhan what they could do as he instinctively pressed the wound with his bare hands. Lan Zhan didn’t dare move not to attract attention on himself. The other man snarled out at XuanYu, asking him why did he even bother, seemingly recognizing him.

“I took your fucking umbrella. Hate me and leave me alone.”

“Ridiculous.”

Lan Zhan would have been proud of him for that remark, but XuanYu was too scared to think about it. He didn’t have a phone and he didn’t even know the number for emergencies. He wasn’t even qualified to be a teacher. How had he survived until then. He was useless and stupid and...

“What the fuck?” Jiang Cheng’s voice came in a whisper behind him.

What a sorry view the older man had to take in that night: a pool of blood staining otherwise clean clothes, a moaning boy on the ground in restless pain, a crying mess of a sad excuse of a human pressing on a throbbing wound next to him.

Jiang Cheng muttered something about the boy being one of Meng Yao’s men, that they should leave him there to die for all he cared.

The man under XuanYu barked back, telling him he had tried to “convince the idiot of the same”. But XuanYu was horrified by what he had just heard.

“People die for nothing. People die for fucking nothing. You don’t leave someone behind just because you fucking hate them.”

XuanYu has never cursed in this brief, borrowed life of his. Maybe spending so much time with Jiang Cheng had rubbed some of his habits off on him in the end.

Startled, Jiang Cheng seemed to agree with him because he fished out his phone and called an ambulance right away.

The stabbed man laughed at that.

*

Lan Zhan was clutched in XuanYu’s hands as they waited in the corridor of a badly lit hospital. The kid was crying, hard. He must have remembered how his family in Mo Manor had mistreated him in the past, how easily his own relatives had starved him off just out of spite. How already impossibly emaciated he had been when he had sacrificed his body for Wei Ying, to bring him back in a weakened vessel just to seek revenge. Just to let his hatred run free.

Such cruelty had earned him nothing but distrust from the hell judges, who sentenced him to never be reincarnated again. Only when Lan Zhan had ascended to heaven -many centuries after reaching immortality- he had been able to make them relent.

If Mo XuanYu could prove to be a good human being during a trial time of one year on planet earth, filling a vial with good actions in the form of golden gems, then they would have considered Lan Zhan’s proposal. Mo XuanYu would have atoned his sin and be granted a new life, a clean record, and a second chance at happiness.

Seeing someone almost die in front of him must have awaken something ugly in him. His stained hands, the iron stench in the air. All that blood... like the last thing he had most probably seen in his previous life before his body sacrifice. A scarlet array under his feet, another soul replacing his in his own body.

Lan Zhan let himself be held tightly in Mo XuanYu’s hands that night at the hospital.

And hugged back without anyone else noticing.

*

Xiao XingChen. That was the name of the man showing up at the kindergarten one week later. XuanYu had never seen him before, but the man hugged him in front of the kids, alerting both XiChen and Jiang Cheng.

“Thank you,” the tall man said in between tears, holding him tight.

“I don’t understand. I...”

“You saved A-Yang. Thank you.”

XuanYu pressed his lips together tightly at that, so overwhelmed he didn’t know what to say. His fingertips hurting with sometimes akin to electricity the more he let himself be held so fiercely by the other man.

He started crying in earnest only after the man had left, surrounded by the children who worried and fussed over him. He fell asleep with them during nap time and when he woke up he found Jiang Cheng placing a quilt over him.

Caught red handed, the older man feigned disinterest in the beginning... but then he sat down next to him. Just like he had done in the hospital one week ago.

“Did you see someone die before?” Jiang Cheng asked then, awkwardly scratching the back of his head, “You had such a strong... reaction to my words. It was insensitive of me. I apologize for angering you. I’ll better myself.”

XuanYu didn’t answer at that. 

Jiang Cheng would have never understood what it meant to sacrifice yourself to hatred and revenge. How much it had scarred him to be brought back to life, but only as a worn out set of robes on top of someone else’s soul. How distant he had felt when the Yiling Patriarch had inhabited his body and had let himself be touched by someone else.

Jiang Cheng would have never understood what it meant to be touched in the flesh but be utterly unreachable as a soul. Or how much it hurt to become an empty body filled by someone foreign and new. Someone who could wear his skin better than him.

Jiang Cheng would have never understood. And thank all the gods for that.

So XuanYu... Mo XuanYu kept quiet and smiled instead.

*

Lan Zhan didn’t trust Jiang Cheng. He hadn’t in the past and he wasn’t gonna start now. Wei Ying would have been so disappointed in him for thinking badly of his baby brother, but there was little Lan Zhan could do about that.

Wei Ying wasn’t there to judge him for it.

Mo XuanYu would wake up every morning and wash himself, get dressed and tidy up the room before leaving. He would fix his appearance in a mirror Young Lady Jiang had gifted him in autumn, making sure his hat was still in place.

“What would happen if I were to...?”

“You must keep your hat on... even when you sleep. You know this much.”

“I wear a headband to bed.”

“And what of it?”

“It’s... silly.”

“Nobody can see you in your sleep. Why the sudden worry?”

Mo XuanYu said nothing in response to that, but Lan Zhan knew. The kid had never worried too much about his appearance aside from looking proper and well dressed. He had never fussed over his features, but recently he had taken the habit to walk dangerously close to makeup stores and check various displays at the convenience store close by. Lan Zhan knew Mo XuanYu had remembered his past... how he had quickly realized he was already an adult. With needs and desires.

But now a brand new reincarnation of Jiang WanYin would wait for him every morning to walk to work together. Now Jiang Cheng acted pleasantly enough to be considered kind and doting to someone starved of affection like Mo XuanYu had always been. Which wasn’t planned, it had never been.

Lan Zhan didn’t like where this was going.

He didn’t like it at all.

*

Nie HuaiSang came to bring a cake for XuanYu one day or so before the end of the year, snow sticking to his hair and flushed cheeks.

“I don’t know when your birthday is... so I’m pretty sure I’m late to the game. But I wanted to thank you for helping me and MianMian that one time. So I made a cake for you. I hope you like strawberries.”

Mo XuanYu had no idea if he liked them or not. He couldn’t even eat.

He started crying in the middle of his room, where HuaiSang had placed the boxed cake on top of his low table.

Panicked, HuaiSang jumped up and out of the room to alert Jiang Cheng next door. But upon seeing the other man’s worried expression XuanYu cried even harder.

“What did you do to him, you bastard?”

“I’m not the one who used to prank people all the time. Grow up!”

“You clearly did something horrible to him for...”

“A-Cheng we’re not twelve anymore. Who do you take me for?”

XuanYu took his chance to stuff his face with cake, gulping it down bit by bit even if he knew he didn’t have the necessary organs to process it without vomiting it all out in an hour or so. He had tried many times to hold food down to no avail. His body rejecting it as if it was poisonous and dangerous.

He had tried so many times... to practice. To be able to appreciate YanLi’s generous cooking, to help A-Ling and the children at school prep their lunches and maybe... maybe to eat with Jiang Cheng every now and then.

Nie HuaiSang hugged him and patted his head, confused but too scared to ask for an explanation. Mo XuanYu smiled at him and lied, saying his cake was the best he had ever eaten. It wasn’t the best. It was simply the first.

He had no way to compare it with anything else, really.

*

Wen Ning had heard about his “stomachache” from XiChen, who had known all about it from YanLi and Jiang Cheng. So it shouldn’t have been a surprise for XuanYu when he saw the older boy in front of his apartment complex the last day of the year.

But it was a surprise.

“Can we talk for a bit?” Wen Ning asked, holding his umbrella up for XuanYu to walk beside him, protecting him from the icy snow.

They walked to the nearest park, sitting under the gazebo to watch the snow falling down. Their heavy coats keeping them warm, despite the cold.

They used to take long walks back from the kindergarten with A-Yuan after school, since the Wens lived close to XuanYu. Before Jiang Cheng came back anyway.

Wen Ning looked uncomfortable, fidgeting with his fingers as he tried to find the right words. He surprised XuanYu by telling him how, in the past, he had suffered from an eating disorder and had been hospitalized for a while in his teens. How worried his sister and their grandma had been for him, how much they helped him in his recovery. How alone he had felt for years still, no matter how loved he was.

“A-Yuan told me he never saw you eat. So I was wondering if you needed help.”

It wasn’t the case, but XuanYu knew he meant well. Telling him everything was fine would have only worried him more, so he tried to explain an half-truth that could satisfy him. Saying it was difficult for him to process food, that in the past he had suffered from malnutrition and now he had digestive issues.

He was talking about his past life, but he figured that could work as well.

When they parted ways in front of the apartment complex, Wen Ning asked to hold XuanYu’s hands for a bit. He cradled them carefully, as if they were precious. His slender fingers cupping XuanYu’s smaller palms almost reverently.

“I know you don’t feel the same about me. But I’ll ask you to look after yourself anyway. Not out of obligation for me... but out of respect for yourself, if nothing else.”

The moment Wen Ning let go of his hands, Jiang Cheng stepped out of the front door of the building and saw them.

He said nothing and walked away after stepping out of the gate.

*

Lan Zhan would have very much liked to flip a finger at Jiang WanYin’s forehead. Hard. Wei Ying would have done the same, he was sure.

Wei Ying would have also smacked some sense in his baby brother, forcing him to face his feelings and take responsibility for what he was doing to poor Mo XuanYu.

Who was currently waiting for the other man’s return like a dog by his room balcony, surveying the front courtyard like a bird of prey from above.

Lan Zhan tried to coax the kid inside, reminding him snow was still falling down and that his beanie was slipping away. He tried to be gentle about it, knowing how much XuanYu had grown resentful of the hats he had to constantly wear.

But the younger man simply shrugged, saying he wanted to wait for another five minutes. Just one more. Just to make sure.

Jiang Cheng didn’t come back that night.

And Mo XuanYu cried in his sleep clutching the half-empty vial to his chest.

Lan Zhan spent the night watching over him, singing to him the song he had written for Wei Ying. He snuggled close to XuanYu and made sure his wide headband was covering the crown of his head, before pressing himself to the other’s forehead.

He never stopped singing.

Wishing he could take all the pain away.

*

YanLi, A-Yuan and even ZiXuan knocked on his door to greet him into the new year, despite how XuanYu should have been the one to pay his respects to his landlords.

But they asked him to visit the funeral home with them instead, to say their thanks to YanLi’s parents with offers and flowers.

He dressed in his best clothes, having never been in what seemed to be a modern version of the ancestral halls of his childhood in a past life. The establishment was fairly sterile, with shelves filled with plaques and pictures instead of wooden inscriptions on an altar. The lot of them bowed and said their thanks, chatting with the late Jiangs almost as if they had never left. YanLi apologized to her mother for Jiang Cheng’s absence that year like any other year, while ZiXuan told his father-in-law how they would have visited the Jin ancestors during Chūnjié to make it fair.

XuanYu looked at them and barely kept himself from crying.

On their way back, YanLi explained her parents had died when she was still twelve and Jiang Cheng was merely six. How they had lived in the orphanage run by XiChen’s mother and made friends with the boy, who was YanLi’s classmate. How the siblings stayed there until YanLi came of age and got custody of her baby brother. ZiXuan’s family of lawyers had helped her pro bono and that was how she had met the man and fallen in love with him. Even if it had taken a while for ZiXuan to notice her at first, preoccupied with university and law school as he had been at the time. But the Jins helped her with the inheritance left by the late Madame Yu: the apartment complex where they currently lived.

Watching them explaining their past in such detail moved XuanYu deeply. Feeling as if they wanted to make him part of their family by filling in the gaps for him.

That was still his older brother after all and those were still his sister-in-law and his beloved nephew and he... he loved them. He had missed them so, so much.

And he was about to leave them again soon.

*

Wen Qing finally showed herself up one day at the park, when Mo XuanYu was taking Fairy out for an evening walk. She approached him by telling the younger man she had assisted in the surgery Xue Yang had undergone some time back.

Lan Zhan (hiding in the kid’s coat pocket) could see how startled the kid was at the mention of the criminal, but he decided to trust this version of Lady Wen as he would have done in the past.

Wei Ying cared deeply for her, after all.

Whatever truths she was about to entrust Mo XuanYu with, Lan Zhan knew the kid could take it.

He hoped as much, at least.

*

Jiang Cheng came back only for Chinese New Year. Saying he had stayed at XiChen’s since the winter break allowed them to take it easy and figure some stuff out for the following school year.

It hurt to know where he had been all along, but XuanYu braved a smile anyway. He knew how much Jiang Cheng cared for the older man, how much he wanted to save the school from the debt collector. How much he didn’t love XuanYu back.

So he let himself cry one last time before waking up one morning and deciding he had had enough.

He talked with Lan Zhan, asking him to tell him all about Wei WuXian and their love. If XuanYu’s sacrifice had allowed them to be happy as they deserved in the end. If Lan Zhan hated him now, for forcing him away from his loved one, who was currently waiting for him to come back to heaven.

Mo XuanYu knew the couple had sacrificed their chance at reincarnation to allow him to seek a second lifetime for himself. He knew Wei Ying watched over them from up above, waiting for Lan Zhan to secure a new life for the kid.

They talked all day and then well into the night.

By dawn Mo XuanYu had decided what to do.

*

XuanYu properly met Meng Yao one day of early spring, when flowers weren’t yet brave enough to poke their way out and greet the sun. The man was dressed in black, his hair cut short, a sigarette between his lips as he waited patiently for the kindergarten to open.

It was XuanYu’s duty to open that morning, so he was the one to greet the man.

Upon hearing his voice, Meng Yao immediately recognized him.

“There you are. I was waiting for you.”

“Me?”

“You’re the kid who answered the phone. And the one who helped my subordinate back in winter, right?”

His dimples were so deep, his face so pleasant.

Mo XuanYu remembered him from another lifetime. He remembered how much he had cared for his older brother Jin GuangYao. How hurt he had felt when the other had lied and accused him of harassment just to get rid of him.

But this was a new life and Meng Yao was just a man.

Who happened to have been married with XiChen for a while before turning to a life filled with crime and gang violence.

Wen Qing had told him Meng Yao had initially tried to live far away from his adoptive father Wen RuoHan. All for the sake of marrying XiChen and keep him safe. But XiChen’s mother still had had a debt to pay for the construction of the orphanage, a price too high for her to pay with her poor health and delicate disposition. A debt that XiChen had inherited from her when she had died.

That was why Meng Yao had left him: to go back to his father and ask him to handle the debt himself, supplicating him to overlook such small issue and let him dry XiChen out of every penny and cent instead.

Wen Qing may have learned this only from the gossiping running in her family, with the Wen Clan being as big as it was, but she was pretty sure of what she had told XuanYu. That Meng Yao had simply faked having fallen out of love with XiChen to protect him from his adoptive father and his cruelty. That XiChen still loved him and was waiting for him to fight alongside him instead.

Mo XuanYu knew all of this.

So now he could act and fulfill his mission.

*

“I want to pay the debt XiChen owes you.”

“You are full of surprises, XuanYu. And how do you plan to do that?”

“I can do many things.”

“You’re very pretty, you can make good money out of it.”

XuanYu considered his words before shaking his head.

“It’s not something I can do.”

“Then what can you do?”

“I’ll solve everything.”

“I’m all ears.”

“But you’ll have to stop making XiChen worry so much.”

“That’s not how business work...”

“Lie to me. Give your word and I’ll... I will solve everything.”

Meng Yao humored him and nodded.

Then and only then, Mo XuanYu took his hat off.

*

Lan Zhan had watched the entire scene unfold before his eyes without intervening, trusting Mo XuanYu with such an important choice. He took in the sight of the beautiful spiritual light shining brightly on top of XuanYu’s head like a crown.

His soul in full display, its energy so raw it had slowed down time all around them.

Lan Zhan turned around and looked at XiChen, who had just turned a corner and had been walking towards XuanYu to greet him good morning. Frozen in time, his older brother’s face still looked peaceful... simply because he had had no time to notice Meng Yao’s presence quite yet.

Lan Zhan turned once more and saw Jiang WanYin making his way in a rush towards them, surely to protect XuanYu from Meng Yao. When did he arrive? His features trapped in a perpetual frown, scared for the one he truly loved in this lifetime.

Then, Lan Zhan looked up at Mo XuanYu and saw him taking the bottle only half filled with gold... which symbolized his goodwill and generous spirit.

“Will this be enough to grant a wish, Lan Zhan?”

When XuanYu said his name like that he sounded so much like his Wei Ying, full of hope and love.

“It depends on the wish, A-Yu.”

“I reckon it’s not enough for a new reincarnation, eh?”

“It’s enough to save a life... but not yours.”

XuanYu looked crestfallen, but he persevered still.

The bottle transformed into a bag filled with money and XuanYu made his way to XiChen and left it at his feet before smiling up at his mentor and employer.

“I cannot rewrite the past, but maybe I can plan a better future for you.”

Still smiling, XuanYu slowly walked over to Jiang Cheng and said his farewells.

Then he crouched down and took Lan Zhan in his hands, kissing him goodbye on the head affectionately.

“Erase me well, Lan Zhan,” he whispered then.

Before disappearing into thin air.

***

Wei Ying had agreed with him, suggesting the idea himself.

In the end the King of Hell had granted Lan Zhan’s request and offered Mo XuanYu a second chance anyway. Since this new self-sacrifice had been fueled by positive emotions instead of anger and despair, the hell judges had considered the atonement fulfilled and put the kid’s name back on the reincarnation list.

Twenty years had past and many things had changed.

For starters, the kid’s last name wasn’t Mo anymore, but Nie. The boy had, in fact, born into Nie MingJue’s family and had lived overseas in Japan for a while before moving back to Lanling when XuanYu turned twenty. Nie HuaiSang had met him many times during summer vacations and other festivities, visiting his brother and his wife every chance he had gotten to dote on his cute nephew XuanYu.

Nie MingJue had done a remarkable job in protecting him from harm. So, by the time their little family had decided to move close to HuaiSang, XuanYu had become a well adjusted adult with a brilliant future ahead of him.

Nobody remembered him.

Or so Lan Zhan had thought.

Apparently, he had forgotten to wipe Jin Ling’s memories thoroughly. So, when The Nie family had come to greet HuaiSang’s friends YanLi and ZiXuan, A-Ling almost had a stroke out of incredulity and happiness for being reunited with his “A-Yu”. Even if Jin Ling was now older than the pretty-gege from his memories. Even if he had spent years trying to figure out why nobody seemed to remember the weird uncle living next door to his Jiujiu years back.

XiChen and Meng Yao had solved their problems and had started running the school together right after Wen RuoHan sudden and mysterious disappearance. The man had many enemies after all. 

A-Yuan had grown up into a fine young man, someone Wei Ying would have certainly been proud of, working with his cousin Wen Ning at the local botanical garden while his friends still studied in university. 

Nie HuaiSang had married Qin Su and opened a restaurant with her. 

MianMian and Wen Qing had decided to live together and adopt a bunch of dogs just because. 

Xiao XingChen and Xue Yang still lived together while Song Lan had found his way back to them after talking it out with the couple. 

A-Qing was probably running some sketchy business in social services to protect kids from horrible families.

Lan Zhan was still, unfortunately, a stuffed rabbit. Following XuanYu in his new life in the most unexpected of ways. In the form of the first present the boy’s uncle had gifted him in childhood. If Wei Ying had pulled a string or two from heaven to make that happen, well, Lan Zhan himself was none the wiser. The only thing he knew was that XuanYu had always taken him with him in all his travels even if he didn’t know he could speak. Lan Zhan had preferred not to reveal his nature and let the kid have a normal childhood. Especially since he had no memories of his past as a tenant in Jiang YanLi’s house. Nor of his life as a cultivator.

Wei Ying had agreed they could wait to be reunited again. The both of them wanting to look over XuanYu for a little longer before getting their own chance at reincarnation. They had all eternity to be together again... they could definitely wait a bit more for the kid.

All was well.

Aside from the other person whose mind Lan Zhan had conveniently forgot to wipe clean of any memory of XuanYu.

In his defense, Lan Zhan had tried to make Jiang Cheng forget. But something about XuanYu must have touched him so deeply... that Lan Zhan had not been able to do much about it. The kid’s smiles and clumsy antics would always linger in the back of the other’s mind no matter how much he tried to ignore them.

Coming back from his job at ZiXuan’s firm, exhausted and vulnerable, Jiang Cheng decided to visit his sister the same day Nie MingJue had brought his family there. So he was particularly weak to the sight of a bright, soft XuanYu when YanLi introduced her younger brother to their guests.

To Lan Zhan’s absolute delight, Jiang Cheng immediately bowed down to a scary looking Nie MingJue and asked his son’s hand in marriage.

Yes, grovel to this precious boy and learn your place.

XuanYu only tilted his head at that weird man bowing to his parents and smiled.

His laughter ringing up to the sky, where Wei Ying was still listening.

From where he would have kept watching.

*

[I worked so hard on this please reblog]

*

[kobato means “little dove” I thought it was cute since XuanYu is a magpie! + I wanted MXY a chance at life and for once this is a reversal-sacrifice from WWX’s part and I think it’s neat.]

[JC would be 43 or so... which yikes. but this is all I could do. I don’t like huge age gaps but at least everyone is a consenting adult, okay?]

[the thing that started this was like “what if LXC was an only child and LWJ did not reincarnate bc he’s still in the afterlife or something? then the entire thing escalated so...yeah.]

now I will cry for ages. I worked so hard on this good god D:

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

Area 51: The Raid

Based on this post: https://strickenwithclairvoyance.tumblr.com/post/186397436216/uh-fbiarea-51-au-wherein-virgil-is-logans-fbi Warnings: Gun mentions, (very) mild swearing, Logan being very very sassy, Virgil has Big Crush (tell me if I should add anything!) Pairing: Analogical Author’s note: Should I write a part two for this? Idk. I trust y’all who read it to tell me what to do. Tags for those who asked: @strickenwithclairvoyance @an-absolute-failure

   Virgil stifled a yawn, keeping his grip on his gun while he raised his free hand to cover his mouth. Patrol duty. Most boring job in the roster.

   Well, that wasn’t completely true. Until recently, FBI monitoring had been fun. He only had one charge at the moment, since he was also on the patrol schedule, and he was always interesting. Whether he was searching up something crazy sounding enough Virgil almost should have called it in, or performing an experiment with his laptop open and catching every explosion and success, Logan Berry was exciting to watch.

   Within the past few weeks, however, things had drastically changed. Logan was on his laptop less and less, and when he was on, it was for mundane searches. He had even taped over his camera, leaving Virgil only to watch his search history, which sucked.

   Not that he missed seeing that cute, concentrated face- no, that would be a conflict of interest. He’d be reassigned. He was just annoyed that he couldn’t see if Logan was building a bomb or anything.

   Yep. Perfectly understandable work reasons.

   He hadn’t been on at all for the last three days, and Virgil had been trying to pretend he wasn’t, since he was his only ticket out of extra patrols. He had avoided getting more placements in the schedule, but he couldn’t hide behind his screen for forever.

   At the very least, Virgil figured, it was a historic day to be on patrol. September twentieth. The day the internet said it would storm the base. Not that he believed it, but the way some of the younger soldiers buzzed by him with nervous energy was an amusing sight.

   Virgil had just risked a glance at his watch- fifteen minutes left before his break- when he heard the squeal of warning sirens. Glancing up, he saw the lights had flashed on as well.

   He scrambled to pull out his communicator, the screen lighting up with an impossible number of red dots. Enemies on the horizon.

   Or, in this case, internet browsers who did not fear death.

   Warnings were blaring alongside reminders that this was a shoot on-sight base, and to not hesitate to pull the trigger. Numbers and codes and squadrons were listed off on where they were to go. Virgil practically deflated in relief when he heard his section was called to defend the interior of the base.

   He didn’t want to shoot anyone- Virgil was an agent who mostly watched a monitor all day and complained about walking; he could kill but he really would rather not. Keeping that in mind, Virgil picked a random hallway, heading down it until he found one that dead-ended in a huge, metal door with three different types of locks on it.

   Virgil nodded as he stationed himself in front of the door. No one would be getting down here.

   After a few minutes, the sirens shut off, the lights still flashing in warning. At the end of the hall, it was nearly dead silent as the red light bounced on and off of him. Virgil didn’t like this corner very much, but if it meant no dealing with people, he could work with it.

   Apparently, he had been too assured of his spot too soon. In the silent hall, the sound of metal cracking from above rang out like gunfire. Virgil aimed his weapon in the direction of the noise, training kicking in and stopping him from shaking as the movement stopped somewhere only a few feet in front of him. The sound of metal clanging against metal sounded loudly before a vent cover fell down and crashed in front of Virgil.

   He was proud to say he barely flinched as he held his gun at the opening.

   After a moment of silence, someone dropped down from the ducts, swinging off the edge and hitting the ground so flawlessly Virgil thought a leaf dropping to the ground would have been louder. Whoever they were, they were facing the wrong direction, allowing Virgil to only see the brown-yellow cape they were sporting.

   Virgil tightened his grip but didn’t say anything. If they started walking away, he’d call them out, but for the moment he treasured the possible element of surprise.

   The stranger stood in place for a moment, seemingly getting their bearings, before their cape began to swirl as they turned towards Virgil. He adjusted his grip on the gun one final time as they faced him, hood of their cloak in their eyes.

   “Hold still! Put your hands on your head and do not move!” Virgil barked automatically. The stranger jerked, clearly startled, before calmly doing as they were told. Virgil gestured with his weapon.

   “If it makes you feel better, sir, I’m not armed.” The stranger told him, voice surprisingly controlled. “Got a smoke bomb on my hip if you want that.”

   Virgil knew he probably should have taken it, but the stranger seemed to understand the chance of him getting shot was high enough the risk to grab the bomb wouldn’t be worth it. He gestured with his weapon. “Lose the hood.”

   The stranger nodded curtly in understanding, slowly raising his hands a few inches to hook the edge of the hood with his thumbs, flicking it off before placing his hands back down on perfectly slicked back, dark brown hair.

   Virgil’s eyes widened. “Logan?”

   Logan’s eyes widened as well. “Excuse me, do I know you?”

   “Uh, no, you wouldn’t.” Virgil responded, shaking his head once, trying to focus on the situation. “What the Hell are you doing breaking in here?”

   “Research study.” Logan responded.

   “To see how fast you can get shot?”

   “To see what technology and, possibly, what sort of life the government has access to.” Logan responded evenly. “This is a serious inquiry. I wish you’d treat it as such.”

   Virgil smirked, trying not to laugh. He knew Logan could be a little crazy sometimes when it came to his studies, but this? This was a whole new level. “I’m not the one in a dirt cape at gunpoint.”

   Logan frowned and looked almost disappointed in Virgil. “Please, agent, it’s a sand cape. Blends in with the desert outside your door.”

   “Oh, so it’s ‘agent’, now?” Virgil asked, cocking an eyebrow. “What happened to ‘sir?’”    “I realized you weren’t worthy of the title.”

   “Oof.” Virgil responded mockingly. “That hurt.”

   Logan didn’t respond for a moment, the edge of his mouth slowly turning up. “You’re not like the other soldiers here, are you?”

   Virgil scoffed. “You trying to flirt with me?”

   Logan rolled his eyes. “I just meant you seem to actually have a brain. Of the twenty other guards I’ve passed, they just shot whatever they saw. You’re asking questions. Even if they are rather moronic questions…”

   “Technically they’re just doing their jobs.” Virgil replied, marveling at the nerd’s nerve given he had a gun pointed in his (cute) face. “I’m breaking the law by not shooting you, actually.”

   “And I’m breaking the law by being here.” Logan matched in a tone that suggested Virgil should get in the rule-breaking line.

   “So I noticed.”

   Logan’s smile grew a little bit, still cocky despite the gun, and Virgil wondered if his computer camera had been dirty, because despite seeing that smile in a million different variations this one somehow seemed to be making him blush. “What are you going to do now?”

   Virgil tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

   “You can’t take me in, since I’m supposed to be shot on sight.” Logan answered. “And know I mean it as a compliment when I say you don’t look like you’re going to do that.”

   Virgil resisted the urge to curse and lose what little control of the situation he had. “Say I’m not.” He settled for after a moment. “What do I do then?”

   Logan nodded behind Virgil, where the heavy, guarded door waited. “Can I assume you don’t have the clearance to get that open?”

   “...You can.”

   “Care to see what’s behind it anyways?” Logan asked. “I’ve got all the tools we’ll need.”

   “Logan, are you asking me to betray my government?”

   Logan frowned. “Okay, it’s still weird you know my name.”

   Virgil laughed sheepishly. “Uh, let’s just say all those jokes about FBI agents watching you might not just be jokes.”

   “That’s… quite the coincidence.” Logan said after a moment. “Though I guess switching my research to a more secure device was not a mistake after all.”

   “I was wondering why you disappeared. Area fifty-one prep?”

   Logan nodded.

   “Should’ve guessed.” Virgil admitted with a chuckle. “Man, you did a lot of weird experiments over the years. You should be happy I didn’t bring you in.”

   “That might have been interesting, actually.” Logan responded. “Though I do feel I’m at a disadvantage, given you know not only my name but… well, quite a good bt about my life, I assume.”

   “If it helps, I’m new to your case.” Virgil said with a shrug. “Two years, now, I think? Still plenty of crazy crap to watch, though.”

   Logan smirked. “Ah, yes, because two years is such a short, insignificant amount of time to have been relentlessly watching someone.”

   Dammit he’s sarcastic too

   Virgil smirked back, ignoring his internal monologue. “I can offer my name, if it’ll please you.”

   “Nothing pleases me.”

   “Great, we’ll get along swell.” Virgil responded in stride. “I’m Virgil.”

   “Well, then, Virgil, now that we’re clearly so close, would you do me the honor of not pointing that gun at me and allowing me to break into your secret facility even more?” Logan asked, not even close to sounding like he meant it.

   Virgil hesitated for a moment, hefting his gun uncertainly, before he lowered it back into the ready-to-aim position. “Certainly.”

   A wide, genuine smile of curiosity and scientific excitement broke out on Logan’s face at that as he pulled his hands off his head, already brushing past Virgil as he pulled something out of a pocket within the cloak. “Glad to see you’re not completely mindless.”

   “Why is it that your every sentence is an attack?” Virgil inquired as he turned to watch the hallway, not sure what he’d do if one of his coworkers appeared.

   “Just the amount of material I have to work with.” Logan replied cheekily as something beeped. “Also, your fingerprint scanner? It’s a joke.”

   “Area fifty-one has to get its humor in somewhere.”

   Another beep. “Same goes to your card scanner. Never heard of chip replication via scant tracing?”

   Virgil was happy to be facing away from Logan, deciding he didn’t need to embrasses himself before his crus- uh, before a civilian by how utterly confused he looked. “I guess not.”

   Logan hummed, a few more quiet noises sounding before an obnoxiously wrong beep sounded. “Of course, save the worst for last…” Logan muttered.

   Virgl risked a glance backwards, finding Logan frowning at a keypad. “Need some help?”

   Logan turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “From someone competent, perhaps.”

   Virgil rolled his eyes as he walked over to the door, examining the pad. It was simple, sleek, and not meant to leave any prints behind to help a couple of lawbreakers get in. There were no notes on it, either, so no password hints.

   Frowning, Virgil thought back to a few months ago when his supervisor had been bragging about being important enough to be trusted with programming the new keypads across the building. He tried to think of what his tool of a boss would have made the code.

   After a moment, Virgil had an idea. Punching in the numbers, he felt Logan’s eyes over his shoulder as he hit enter. For a second, nothing happened as the numbers were processed.

   And then… a happy beep and the loud click of the door’s deadbolt sliding out of place rang through the hall. Virgil grinned.

   “One-eighteen-five-one-five-one?” Logan repeated as Virgil pulled away from the door, glancing behind him once more.

   “Area fifty-one in all numbers.” Virgil explained. “I know the dude who set this system up. To put it lightly, he’s a fool.”

   “Lucky for us, eh?” Logan asked, glancing down the hall as well. “Plus, it has proven your worth to this study.”

   “You can stop calling it a study, you know.” Virgil teased. “It’s clearly just revolution with a chance to see aliens.”

   “You mock my study.” Logan replied. “That’s our mission statement.”

   Virgil snorted on reflex, covering his mouth immediately afterwards. “You don’t say?”

   Before Logan could respond, the sound of stomping boots and quietly shouted orders carried down the hall. From what Virgil could tell, its source wasn’t too far away.

   “You’ve got to hurry up if you don’t want to get caught.” Virgil warned him, taking a few more steps backwards as he raised his gun slightly. “I can try and distract them-”

   Virgil stopped when he felt Logan tugging at his arm, pulling him towards the door and forcing him to lower his gun once more. When he looked questioningly at Logan, the clever civilian just rolled his eyes. “I’ve deemed you an asset to this study, I’m not about to lose you to distraction duty.”

   Despite the seriousness of their situation, Virgil couldn’t help but smile and tease, “Aw, Logan, you care about me that much?”

   Virgil had expected another sarcastic remark, not Logan glancing away with what he could have sworn was a blush on his cheeks as he responded, “Just hurry up before I change my mind.”

   Virgil spared one last glance behind them, the sound of marching soldiers not getting any farther away. “Alright, alright, just open the door.”

   Logan nodded, grabbing the metal handle and twisting it hard as he pushed. The door didn’t budge. He briefly tried to pull it, only to find even more resistance. Logan huffed as he pushed again, putting his shoulder to the door this time, only barely getting a gap.

   Virgil looked back to see Logan failing to shove the door open. “You got it?”

   “Your… stupid government door… is excessively… heavy.” Logan responded in between grunts as he managed to get a minor gap to open. Getting worried about how loud the soldiers were getting, Virgil moved to put his shoulder against the door as well, surprised by how heavy it was.

   “You’re right.” Virgil agreed after a moment as the door slowly slid more and more open, inch by inch, the words of the general ordering the approaching troop almost close enough to be understood.

   “I know.” Logan said, somehow managing the quip despite the effort he was putting into just getting the door open. Virgil tried not to focus on that as he heard the sound of guns clicking, the steps almost right outside the hall-

   All of a sudden, Logan was tapping his shoulder as he slipped through the just barely wide enough gap, signaling to Virgil to hurry and follow.

   “Halt! On orders of the US government-”

   Virgil slipped in after him before he could hear the end of the sentence, the door slamming shut and blocking out any sound from behind. The passage they were in now was dimly lit, the lights in emergency mode, and Virgil could just barely make out the figure of an impatient Logan waiting a few feet away, waving for him to follow him deeper into the tunnel of mystery.

   Virgil took a second to turn back towards the door, it apparently as thick as it was heavy for all the noises he could hear through it (none). Turning back, Logan was waving even more demandingly.

   With another heft of his gun, the only thing currently familiar to him, Virgil acquiesced to his demands.

   No turning back now.

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Forty-Nine: He Walked Past ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

Every day, without fail, Uchiha Sasuke walks to the training grounds on the outskirts of Konoha to practice the shinobi arts. He’s done so since his release from the hospital, and even before the massacre, his habitual training was intense for one his age. But as the years have passed, and his graduation date grows ever nearer, his hours at the dusty, well-worn swathes of ground have been growing.

...but he’s not the only one.

Since the loss of her title, Hinata has also called the training fields home more often than not. Her clan, of course, has several of the nicest dojos in the village, thanks entirely to their rather hefty coffers. The Hyūga want for very little, and their pride means investing in having the grandest of any comparable object.

But there’s a few reasons why Hinata prefers the training grounds of the village itself. Mostly is the privacy. No risk of being walked in on, and no feeling of being constantly watched: hard to avoid within the Hyūga compound...especially given that judgemental gazes have only increased upon her over the years since her defeat by Hanabi.

Partially, however, it’s a feeling of being...unremarkable. She’s hardly actually here alone, after all - plenty of shinobi come and go through the multitudes of training spaces day by day. But here, she isn’t just the disgraced Hyūga ex-heiress. No...she’s just another Academy student here to practice her taijutsu, maybe some bukijutsu if she feels up to it. No one’s eyes linger on her, judging and sneering. Here, she’s unnoticed. Just how she wants it.

Sasuke, on the other hand...doesn’t have that respite. Instead, it’s here, among the rest of the village’s population, that he’s the most recognized.

The last of the Uchiha.

Even Hinata can’t help timid glances when he walks by, pausing in her routine to subtly follow him with her eyes. Unlike most of the girls in their class, she isn’t as charmed by his appearance or cold exterior. She’s never really understood why they seem to romanticise it. After all, she can still remember when they first met, when the Academy began that April several years ago. He’d been a bright, if not slightly shy boy eager to learn, and full of hope for a future as a shinobi like his brother and father.

...but now, his only drive is vengeance born of a loss so monumental, Hinata doesn’t even dare pretend to comprehend it.

...why the other girls suddenly found him so alluring once he’d suffered so much...she just can’t understand.

Of course, she has her own fallacies in logic: like trailing after a boy who wants nothing to do with her. But she can’t help but find Naruto’s resistance inspiring. While she only knows bits and pieces of why he’s so alone...she also knows that - in spite of it all - he keeps his head up. And with her own challenges to face, and her own insecurities to overcome...she can’t help but idolize him.

Him. Not his losses. It’s about his perseverance, his tenacity, his refusal to let what ails him drag him down into their depths...as she’s so often felt tempted to do.

But that’s not how the girls see Sasuke. They don’t offer sympathy, or empathy. They all want something from him. Attention, affection...neither of which he seems in any way wanting to give. Their shallow vying for his time grates on her...but she’s never had the courage to say anything. Sakura, Ino...they’re popular. Loud. Assured. If they were to turn on her...well, it wouldn’t be pretty. And Hinata already has the weight of her clan’s disappointment resting on her shoulders. She’s not sure she can bear much more.

All of this goes through her head as he goes by, her stance losing its rigidity and instead just...wilting loosely, somberly. It’s all so unfair, isn’t it…?

...but what can she do? What can any of them do? Children with burdens beyond their means tied to their ankles as they try to stay afloat. Those like Ino...those like Sakura...they don’t know that weight. And though Hinata finds herself frustrated with them...she could never wish that knowing upon them.

It would be cruel.

“Oi.”

Startled from her thoughts, Hinata actually staggers back half a step, heart leaping up her throat with a gasp. Wide, pearly eyes stare openly at her addresser.

It’s...Sasuke?

“S...Sasuke-kun…?”

“You have the Byakugan, right?”

“Um...y-yes…?” Why does her reply sound more like a question? He’s never really spoken to her directly before.

“I need your help.”

Blinking, she watches him turn around and start walking, not even giving her a chance to acquiesce. Not...that she has any reason not to, but he seems to just assume she’ll help.

After a brief pause...she follows.

He leads her to a training ground several over from her own. Like her typical spot, it’s partially nestled in the treeline, hidden from most angles (and other training nin). It’s a spot with several targets set into the trees for kunai and shuriken training. “I was trying a new technique that got out of hand. Several of my knives went off-course, and I’m having trouble finding them in the underbrush. Can you see them?”

There’s a moment to take in his words. They’re so...blunt and to the point. It reminds her of her father’s speech, wasting no time and inflected with little to no emotion. “...um...I-I should be able to…” Taking a steadying breath, she lets chakra build, rushing to the pathways leading to her eyes, which swell with energy as her dōjutsu activates.

Immediately, the world is shifted into an inverted black and white, images and energies outlined and layered. Without moving her eyes in her sockets, Hinata scans the area.

There’s...actually a lot of random gear out here. Kunai, shuriken, senbon...even a sai blade lost and abandoned in the overgrowth. Hinata can’t help but blink in surprise.

“...well?”

“Um...there’s q-quite a few. I...I’m not sure which are yours? There’s...weapons everywhere…”

That gets him to frown. “...really?”

“Yes, a-all sorts. Um...I guess I’ll just...s-show you the kunai…”

“Wait.”

She pauses.

“...we can pick it all up. Someone might get hurt.”

Shock holds her in place for a long moment. He...he wants to…? But it’ll take much longer than just finding what he’s lost.

Understanding then gets her to soften.

...maybe parts of him are still the same.

“...all right.”

With Hinata’s eyes and both of their hands, they scavenge up every piece of equipment in the area, ending up with a rather impressive pile. Some has been here so long, it’s all rusted over. The pair bend over their hoard curiously before glancing to each other.

“...w-what should we do with all of this…?”

Sasuke seems to mull it over. “...dunno.” He reaches in, taking up a few senbon, having already claimed the kunai he recognized. “Is there someone we can tell about all this? People might be looking for their gear...or at least someone might be able to use most of this if no one claims it.”

“T-that’s true. Um…” Reaching into her leg pouch, Hinata withdraws a scroll gifted by one of Neji’s teammates. “We could seal it in here, and t-take it to the administration building.”

“You know about seals?”

“Just...just a little bit.” Tenten hasn’t exactly given her private lessons, given the strained relationship between the cousins. “It’ll be easier than carrying it all by hand.”

After a short while sealing up all the blades, needles, and stars, Hinata stands awkwardly for a moment. Is she...supposed to take it by herself? Or is he going to invite himself along? There isn’t much left to do but turn it in, and...surely he wants to get back to training.

“I don’t know what department to take it to…”

“M-me neither. Is there...a lost and found?”

“No idea...guess we can ask.”

‘We’. Not ‘you’, implying she won’t be going alone. Well...all right then. Scroll in hand, Hinata just...makes her way back toward the village and into the administration building. An obliging chūnin listens to their story, and he points them to a desk for missing items.

“So, this is all unsorted weaponry?”

“Y-yes. We, um...we found it all in the training grounds. Some might not be...worth anything. But we didn’t want it to injure anyone unaware.”

The attendant tucks it away after giving the scroll a label. “Good thinking, you two. We try to do sweeps for lost or forgotten supplies, but things always get missed. Guess we might have to start relying on some Hyūga to help!”

At that, Hinata goes a bit pink, bowing sheepishly as they retreat, deed done.

“Thanks for the help.”

“Y...you’re welcome. I’m glad we found them, and...all that other stuff.”

“Least the lady seemed happy about it. And no students will fall and hurt themselves on a dropped blade.”

“That, um…” Hinata pauses, seeing him glance to her. “...that was a g-good idea.”

“Just trying to think ahead.”

...an awkward silence blooms.

“W...well, you probably want to get back to training, so…”

“Not heading back?”

“It, um...it’s getting a little late. I don’t want to get in trouble.” She avoids directly mentioning her father, conscious of how it might make Sasuke feel. “I can always go back tomorrow.”

“Mm…” He hums in response before adding, “...I’ll probably see you there.”

“Y...yeah.”

“Maybe one of these days we could spar.”

“...eh?”

“Never gone up against someone who can use Jūken,” he replies, a hint of a grin on his face. “Might be...interesting.”

At that, Hinata can’t help but go a little pink. “I...I’m not the b-best at it…”

“Then consider it practice. If you want.”

She hesitates...but then nods. “...a-all right.”

“Cool. See you then, Hyūga.”

“Y...you can call me Hinata!” she calls after him, earning nothing but a wave over his shoulder.

...well, that wasn’t how she expected today to go.

                                                     .oOo.

     I keep telling myself to make these a little shorter to make it a little easier...and yet I keep overshooting my word count goal xD      Anyway, some canon verse stuff! Genin era (or...right before it) cuz I love writing them as kiddos. This'd probably be in my team seven!Hinata AU. I just...I'm thirsty for Sasuke and Hinata interacting in canon. Like at all. YOU LEFT ME HANGING, KISHI.      ...*sighs*      Anywho, I gotta get to bed, so...that's all for now - thanks for reading!

[you-did-well-moon]

|Relationship with the boys|Monsta x 8th member Au|

A/N: Ahh I'm sorry it took me so long to get the update of the next part of this out, but I really am excited for this series. I really reccomend looking at the lyrics of the songs mentioned to get a closer look at their relationship. If you have any songs you think would fit any of these relationships please tell me!! Yesterday I got stuck in the middle of the road at night hoping no demon would come get me. I just got back from a concert. Anyways I have a seventeen reaction in store. I even have plans for a fanfiction I want to do, and another additional member au. Please don't be afraid to talk to me or to request!!~Moon

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shownu

Showslyn

At first, they ignored each other's existence. Shownu because he didn't really know what to say or how to act. Arslyn because avoiding her made her think he didn't like her. Then that fateful day came where they had been sat next to each other while waiting to do a mission. Arslyn had seen how nervous Shownu had been even though he didn't say anything. Choosing to try and overcome any bad feelings, and calm both their nerves she reached for one of his hands in both of hers.

Shownu had flinched and looked at Arslyn with a wondering expression, but Slyn kept her head down. Shownu couldn't help the feeling of protection that overcame him, so he kept his hand there and let her touch comfort him.

Arslyn feels sorry for the dear leader sometimes. She does everything she can to make it easier for him. Whether it's putting snacks in everyone's bags for practice so they're not complaining or clutching on to his outfit when he's giving a speech. Shownu is probably the most comfortable with Arslyn.

Shownu is a quiet man and all the others are pretty talkative, but he can sit in comfortable silence with Arslyn. They both someone know what the other is thinking without saying anything. Arslyn lives for his eye scrunch smile. Both of them aren't the touchy type, but they can make exceptions for each other.

They can often be seen smiling across the room to each other. Shownu is probably the one giving piggy back rides to Arslyn, or just carrying her around if she falls asleep. They care for each other through actions rather than words. They both say they can't imagine life without each other. They've helped the other in ways they never thought possible. Arslyn was the first person Shownu opened up to, and she's often the person he goes to if he's ever feeling down.

She's also the one that can make Shownu laugh the hardest. If Shownu is feeling down bring him Arslyn and he'll brighten up. They get strength from each other, and they naturally get along. Fans often call her his second in command since she tries so hard to remove some of the burden he has from his shoulders as a leader. They both wear their hearts on their sleeves when they're near each other, and anyone can see they care for each other.

Arslyn has produced, written, and sung songs for each of the members.

Shownu's song is called Pondus which is weight in Latin. She explains in the song how lost they'd be without him. Arslyn sings about how she found a safe haven in him when the world had shown her nothing but loss and sorrow. She acknowledges the hardships and negative feelings that come with being the leader of a group from a smaller company. She talks about how he has to be acknowledged and appreciated more. She expresses her gratitude towards him, and Shownu teared up when he first heard it. The song is alike to Jungkook's Begin.

Wonho

Wonslyn

At the start, Wonho acted tough but Arslyn is very observant. She instantly saw him for the little bun he is. From the very start, Arslyn hated to see him cry. It felt wrong seeing him cry. If he cries fans can often see Arslyn reaching for, and gripping his hand. She'll wipe away his tears and lean her head against his.

Arslyn is very protective of Wonho and monbebe often say she wears the pants in their relationship. If anyone disrespects Wonho she'll become snappy and sarcastic towards them. She does her best to help with his self esteem, and she let's him get away with a lot of things. These two naturally gravitate towards each other, and in interviews and fan meetings they're probably going to be placed next to each other.

Like Arslyn helps with his confidence, Wonho helps her with her anxiety and PTSD. They both calm each other down when they're feeling scared or worried. Arslyn looks up to his passion, and Wonho looks up to her fierceness. These two make very good friends seeing as the qualities one seems to lack the other make up for. They often say they're two parts of one whole. Incomplete if they're away from each other. Wonho is also the only one who knows about her past.

They compliment each other well. Arslyn is always there to assure him he is more than just muscle, and he is there is assure her she is more than her past. Wonho can be seen bringing in flowers into the dorm sometimes since he knows how much Arslyn loves them. Wonho adores her, and Arslyn adores him. Nothing is able to seperate them, or change how much they love eachother. Not a crush, misunderstanding, or fight could ever come in between them.

Many idols look up to Wonho because of his body. Arslyn knows it makes him umcomfortable, and she’s the type to do everything she can to make her members feel as happy and relaxed as they can be. She’ll do anything to get them out of that kind of situation. Many idols confront Wonho, and she’ll often go and drag him away if she sees his muscles being the sole focus of the conversation. She’ll leave them alone if she sees that Wonho looks comfortable. Monbebe are often very grateful to Arslyn for taken such good care of him, and the rest of the members.

Arslyn sneaks in a lot of snacks into the dorms and into practice for him. If any of them try to tease him for eating a lot or try to take it away she’ll throw whatever is in her hands at them (which is almost always a book). As mentioned earlier she is very protective of him, and won’t let anyone give him shit. She will accompany him to the gym, but instead of actually working out she’ll probably be writing lyrics or thinking of different beats and melodies. She’s the one that makes sure he eats and sleeps enough. Well, as much as he can while being an idol.

Wonho’s song is called Oenomel. The song talks about how Wonho and Arslyn have been able to find solace and comfort in eachother. It shows everyone who’s heard it how Wonho could have been the difference between life and death for her. Theres a highnote at the end of the song of her saying the title of the song. The title is a greek word and the definiton is of something that combines strenght with sweetness. It causes goosebums and a mouth drop to any listener. She says in the song how Wonho gives her hope and trust in the poeple around her. Wonho almost sobbed when he heard the song. He wouldn’t let go of Slyn for hours. The song is alike to Magic Shop by Bts.

Minhyuk

Minslyn

Minhyuk and Arslyn actually didn’t like eachother for a bit. When passing eachother Minhyuk would giver her faces and turn his nose up while she would knock her shoulder against his and flat out ignore him. This was caused by Minhyuk’s disliking towards Kyun when he first came on to NO MERCY. The situation made things akward and tense when the whole group was in the same room. This silent treatment soon ended when Arslyn went up to the company building’s roof to get some fresh air only to see Minhyuk crying.

She scolded herself. She should have known of all the insecurities and tears hidden behind his smile. That night was spent with akward apologies and small smiles. They weren’t instantly best friends, but small steps matter. Honestly, it wasn’t that long before they were hitting eachother bent in laughter and annoying everyone because they could’t stop laughing. If you didn’t know these two personally, you could say they hate eachother because of their sarcastic conversations and random insults thrown into the mix. 

Truth be told, these two would walk through hell and back hand in hand with smiles on their faces as long as they had eachother. They may make fun of each other, but neither of them take it seriously. They both take it in stride. They know each other so well they know which lines to cross and which ones to stay away from. Arslyn can be seen in a headlock from him most of the time, or she can often be seen throwing something from her hoodie pocket at him. Fans do know how much they care for each other when the camera catches them fallen asleep snuggled close together. 

Everything may seem like all fun and games with these two, but their relationship is a lot deeper than what other poeple would expect. Arslyn makes it her mission to always be the person Minhyuk can lean on, or the hand he can use to help him back up after he’s fallen. Arslyn knows about everything he hides behind his smile. The home sickness, doubt, and lack of confidence are all things he tries so hard to conceal for the group’s sake.

In a way Arslyn is the one that holds him up. The one that keeps him from going insane by being someone he can confide in. He tells her everything. His fears, dreams, and insecurities. The company’s roof where it all started is their special place. They even have some chairs up there with a cooler full of drinks and a backpack filled with snacks. The roof is the place where they can sob into each other’s shoulders, or they can reminice about past memories. The roof is the place where they let their screams and yells at the world for being so unfair and cruel get taken away by the numbing wind. It’s one of the only places they feel safe to be themselves. There’s no cameras to smile fakely into, or reporters to feel threatened by. Only them, the view of the city, and the stars above them.

They annoy eachother endlessly, but the comfort they give each other is far greater than that. These two are the type of friends that make fun of eachother, but anyone else tries to tease one of them and the other will get defensive. Agaist the other it’s funny, but put both of them together in a team against someone and things can get pretty scary.

Minhyuk’s song is called Sehnsucht. The song talks about how they both long for a place to call and feel at home. Along with that it talks about the sense of isolation they feel when they can’t seem to find that certain place, or how it feels so far sometimes. She talks about how they were able to find a home in eachother, and she says that it’s hard seeing him smile when she knows just how many times he’s cried himself to sleep. She sings about being there to help him up from now on, and she does so with emotion filling the ears or room it’s being played in. She also briefly and discreetly mentions the roof. Minhyuk’s beamed smile practically blinded the room when he first heard it, and it continues to so no matter how many times he hears it. The song is alike to Promise by Exo.  

Kihyun

Kislyn

When these two met, they honestly didn’t know what to think of eachother. To Kihyun, she was just another trainee to compete agaisnt. To Arslyn, he was just another face. They didn’t really try to talk or get to know eachother. Arslyn had the rappers to hang out with while Kihyun stuck with the vocalists. They were never paired up for a mission, so they never really got a chance to talk to eachother. 

It wasn’t until the final members for the group were chosen that they got as close as they are now. They both basically fell in love with eachother. Kihyun took her in as his newest adopted daughter, and Arslyn accepted him as a kind of parent figure. She constantly denies Shownu as her father saying she already has enough father figures. Plus, Shownu doesn’t let her get away with as much as Key, Heechul, and Junmyeon do. 

Monbebe love when they’re given the same parts since their voices compliment eachother well. She says that Kihyun’s habits are the cutest to her, and she loves catching him in the act. When he complains about being short, she just tells him he’s the perfect size to hug. She also says that Kihyun is the cutest overall to her. He’s adorable to her without even trying. Whenever he does anything monbebe see her practically melting. She loves his voice, his smile, and basically everything about him.

The only thing that Kihyun does that she doesn’t like is nag. If he ever nags at her, she’ll flat out ignore him. She may spare him a glance. Whenever he cooks she’ll stay nearby to keep him company, and she can throw spoons at Minhyuk so it’s a winwin situation. If Arslyn ever has any nightmares she’ll go to Kihyun’s room because she finds that his voice calms her down a lot. Kihyun doesn’t mind either loving being able to soothe her to sleep.

These two are very soft for eachother. If either one of them is upset or annoyed the other will be able to calm them down. A simple touch or comforting glance can do a lot more than you would expect. Arslyn has a thing for his face. She can often be seen touching it, or tracing lines across it. Kihyun is the one that will get Arslyn out of uncomfortable situations. Some idols will confront her about being the only female in a male group, and Kihyun will often be the one dragging her away from that conversation.

Arslyn has accepted the fact that the closest thing she’lll ever have to a guinea pig is Kihyun, so she can almost always be seen giving him food just to watch him eat. She thinks he looks like a hamster. Sometimes Kihyun wishes Arslyn wouldn’t speak every opinion she has on her Vlives since he thinks the less people attack Arslyn the better. He doesn’t tell her anything though because he knows she’ll get frustrated keeping so much in. He only worries for her. These two would go to the ends of the earth for eachother. 

Kihyun’s song is called Gigil. The song talks about how Arslyn views their friendship as something precious and fragile. She sings about only wanting to see him smile, and how she’s worried of losing him. The song tells him to promise to always stay by her side. The song also goes into depth into how Arslyn views him as something very beautiful that can easily fly away at the slightest wrong move. She says that she wishes she could talk to him, but she fears scaring him off by seeming immature and dramatic. She thanks him for making her feel protected and safe.  Kihyun basically cooed and pinched at her cheeks when he first heard it. Monbebe can find him singing it without even meaning to. The song is alike to Butterfly by Bts and Thanks by Seventeen.

Hyungwon

Arsewon

During NO MERCY, Hyungwon was the vocalist she was the closest to, and that she frequently talked to. Well, they got particularly close after a prank he pulled on her. Before the prank they mostly did small talk. They’re both similar to eachother. When first meeting them they can seem indifferent and stone-faced, but when you get closer to them they can be a bit chidish and they can actually be fun to be around. 

Hyungwon had been encouraged by the writers and peoducers to prank Arslyn insisting she wouldn’t hold a grudge. The prank consisted of Arslyn in the studio in the process of producing a song, and then leaving to use the the bathroom. Hyungwon had made sure he downloaded the song and put it into a USB before “acidentally” deleting the song under the guise of just trying to hear the song and pressing the wrong button. He pulled the most worried and sorry look he could, and he scurried to Arslyn repeatedly saying sorry.

He explained what he did, and he watched Arslyn bolt into the studio. She tried everything she could to try and get the song back only to fail. Hyungwon had been prepared for her to make a fuss and be annoyed with him. Instead, what he got was Arslyn with sad and dissapointed eyes. She had sighed and given him a sad smile only telling him it was okay, and that she hadn’t really liked the song anyways. Hyungwon knew better though. He had seen the exited look on her face, and the little bounce in her step from his hiding spot when she had come out.

Her reaction had made him instantly want to make a better friend of her. His resolve completly broke when she stared sadly at the screen with a pout telling him she could always try and remake the song or make a better one. Hyungwon put a hand on her shoulder, and he nudged the USB into her hand with a soft smile and a “got cha”. He watched her eyes light up and hurredly plug it into the desk top watching as the song appeared. A huge smile came onto her face as she teasingly scowled at him and made fists at him letting out a “ugh”. She laughed and told him she’d get him back. Their friendship took off from there. Arslyn deciding she liked him, and Hyungwon choosing to let her in to his close circle of friends.

These two absolutely adore eachother. Hyungwon is very fond of Arslyn, and he is always doing his best to help her with fashion. When they’re bored they can be caught making faces at eachother. They have the kind of freindship where they’ve probably seen eachother naked, and it didn’t phase how comfortable they are with eachother at all. Arslyn is always writing songs where she specifically gives Hyungwon more lines. She’s seen what he’s capable of, and she knows he can do a lot more if only Starship trusted him with it. She firmly believes Hyungwon is very talented, and that he should be given more power and identification in the group. Her go to topic when talking about Hyungwon is describing how he’s more than just a pretty face.

She knows how entertaiment companies are, and she’s actually revealed that she refuses to do anything if she sees that Hyungwon has been given unequal representation or line distribution. She says that she’s gotten her way every single time. Hyungwon is vey grateful for this and he does a lot for her. He accopanies her to the hospital, or to volunteer at the animal shelter. He also stays behind with her at the practice room if she’s having trouble with one of the choreographies. He’s the one that almost always sticks up for her if she’s not being taken serisously as a producer or for being in the group because she’s a female. They’ve got eachother’s backs, and they won’t let anyone bring the other down.

Hyungwon’s song is called Querencia. The song talks about how Hyungwon is constantly someone who gives her confidence to be who she is and who she wants to be. She sings about how sunrise to sunset he’s always giving her support and assurance. She aknowlodges him as someone she could never afford to lose, and that she would do anything to keep the friendship they have even in the next life. She expresses how he’s always been someone to help her avoid any hardships she may have. Hyungwon hid behind the first thing he could find because of the sheer gidiness he felt. The song is alike to Sunrise by JB and Tomorrow, Today by JJ Project.

Jooheon

Honslyn

Back in the NO MERCY days her and Jooheon along with Gunhee were the three musketeers. Always attached to the hip, and the three of them basically always doing everything and going everywhere together. They were known as the biggest threat to the other trainess. They were a powerful and unstoppable force to go up against if they were ever put together. They had the vocals, rap, production, lyric writing skills, determination, and passion. They were creative enough to come up with choreographies that wouldn’t make them look bad. Nothing could have put them down. Nothing exept the eliminations, of course.

When Kyun came onto the show it definetely changed their relationship. Gun became afraid of the competition the two bought while Honey couldn’t help but feel frustration and spite towards the two. This put a lot of strain between their relationship and they became distanced. In the end, the distance and disdain they felt rooted a deep regret in them that would stay for a long time. Arslyn cried the most when Gun was eliminated (actually she straight up sobbed on the floor since her legs gave out with the sheer amount of emotion while Gun kept telling her it was okay with a choked up voice). She wished she would have taken initiative to put the negative feelings aside and made her last moments with him worthwhile. Both her and Honey still talk to him, and they try to meet up but it’s hard when they’re idols. 

Her and Honey are now closer than ever before. Monbebe love when these two are put together in songs or in choreographies. They have so much energy when permorming and heart stopping stage presence. These two could get a stadium of millions hyped up with just one verse. Monbebe call these two the DD (Duality Duo) since they’re really aggressive and vivrant on stage while in real life they’re completly different. They’re also the most loved ship. Monbebe love these two together, and it’s not based on nonsense. These two feel a lot of attachement towards eachother.

They’re often saying they’re soulmates calling and greeting eachother with the title. Arslyn has a love-hate relationship with his aegyo. Sometimes it makes her melt while other times it makes her cringe away from him. Honey always whines when she scrunches her nose and grimaces stepping away from him. Arslyn has the most skinship with him out of all the members. They can always be seen hugging or snuggling. Anytime Honey tries to act tough or swaggy, Arslyn will out right laugh. When anyone says he looks scary or intimidating she’ll also laugh right in their face.

If his sister and Audrey come to visit, and Arslyn enters the room Audrey will ignore everyone and walk right into her arms. Arslyn has a very calming precense that makes people love being around her. Since she has so many different friends, and some of them are are producers she’s worked with many of them. Songs don’t exactly take one day to make, so she won’t be at the dorms for some time. At times Jooheon will get a bit jealous of her working with others. Especially when he’s having trouble with a song. She knows this, and she does her best to assure him. Jooheon knows his boundaries though. They don’t let this affect their relationship, or their work. It happens very rarely.

Honey is a constant source of inspiration for Arslyn. She admires him for being so passionate, and how he always puts so much of himself into his work. She’s often left breathless when seeing Jooheon talk about his music by noticing the light that ignites in his eyes. Little does she know, the same exact same thing leaves him breathless. She knows Honey can get a bit down sometimes. If she catches him at these times, she’ll take a hold of his hand or hug him until he feels better. She’ll force him out of the studio and outside to get some fresh air. She’ll get him new equiptment, or take him out to eat. She calls Chanyeol or jackson, and she’ll go as far as to call his mom. Arslyn will do anything to see her favotire dimples again. Poking at them and squishing his cheeks when she does. Frowns aren’t present for long when these two are around eachother. Soulmates.

Jooheon’s song is called Meraki. It talks about how she views honey as someone who hung the moon along the stars when things were getting dark. She says in the song that he makes her feel human and normal. She really plays into the soulmate thing. She names Honey as someone that was meant to be in her life. Someone meant to hold her hand as they went through the hardships of being an idol out in the public view in control of the fans. She mentions that brief moment in time where they didn’t talk and her feelings during that time. She sings about all they’ve lost and all they’ve gained. She says that his love and warmth is something that has given her a lot of strenght. He always plays it when doing a Vlive. The song is alike to Heartbeat by Bts.

 I.M

Kyunslyn

Kyun trusts Arslyn the most, and he does so for abvious reasons. When he first came on to the show she was the one who stuck up for him if the trainees said anything to him or even dared look at him in the wrong way. When she first found him crying in the studio after talking with Jooheon she reached her breaking point. It’s one of those moments where she hans’t felt that mad in a long time. She hearded everyone into a room, and then continued to yell at everyone for about an hour telling them how wrongly they were treating him. She pointed each person out, and she made sure they understood exactly what they had done wrong. By the end, she was crying. The trainees felt ashamed of themselves, but stayed silent as they watched tears stream down her face.

Seeing no response, she stormed out of the room only to find Kyun outside. He had been holding a hand to his mouth in order to silence the sobs heaving trough his chest. They stared at eachother for a little bit before Arslyn pulled Kyun into her embrace. She cradled his head against her shoulder as they both clutched onto eachother. Soon they were on the groung, and she rocked him back and forth while he spoke a broken mantra of “I’m sorry”. She only replied with whispered comforting words into his ears. That’s how they fell asleep, and that’s how they were found by the other trainees.

After she left, they talked about trying to treat Kyun better. They walked out and found the two leaning against the wall with arms around eachother and foreheads together. Tear tracks tracing each of their cheeks. The sight broke their hearts, and they woke both up telling them to go sleep at the dorms. From then on it was an unsoken promise that they would protect eachother. At the end of the show when Arslyn had fallen to the floor crying out for Gunhee instetad of walking to his pedestal, he had walked towards hers. He cradled her into his arms tucking her face into his neck. He refused to leave her and go to his pedestal staying with her until they finished recording.

Kyun is always the one that helps Arslyn with her migraines. Staying with her until they end. He rests her head on his lap, and he massages her temples singing a song in a low quiet tone of voice. He soothes her, and he constantly leans down to press kisses to her head. He’ll get her water, and he holds her hair when she throws up. He makes her lean against him when she walks since she gets dizzy. He’s the one that she goes to when she wants to talk about how one of her friends is getting treated wrogly by their company. She tells him everything about her acting roles, and sometimes even gives him spoilers.  

Arslyn knows all about his insecurities. She knows he thinks that he doesn’t belong in the group, and that he stole the spot from one of the other trainees. At these times she’s the one cradling his head in her lap, and she runs her hands through his hair. She tells him he belongs, and that he’s there for a reason. They practice English with eachother. They’re called the emo duo since they both like to wear darker colors. They both had eye brow piercings. When these two are together they always manage to reach peak crackhead behavior. They definetely bring out the weirdness in eachother even though they can both be really mature at times. Monbebe especially love it when they get to do skits with eachother.

Jooheon and Arslyn may be the best together on stage, but Arslyn and Kyun work best when producing and writing songs. They always somehow manage to know what the other is thinking, and they always seem to be able to agree on everything. When Kyun raps, Arslyn can always be seen boucing around and hyping him up. Monbebe say that if Kyun is Stitch, Arslyn is Lilo. She loves him for his 4D personality, and she’s never judged him for it. Arslyn is probably the only one that can control him. If she also hasn’t gone full crackhead, of course. In that case, just hope for the best.

Changkyun’s song is called Kairos. In the song she talks about having eachother’s backs, and always being there. She expresses how every moment spent together is beautiful and precious to her. She encourages him to keep dreaming and smiling. Arslyn explains that the light that they each have manages to shine even when the darkness surrounds them. She says that it almost feels like a dream being able to have somone as important as him in her life. She tells him that they are capable of so much, and that he makes everything seem so much brighter. He wouldn’t let go of her hand when he heard it. The song is alike to Mikrokosmos by Bts.