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fanfictionaries · 4 years

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Oh So Many Years: Ch. 15 - Feelin’ The Same Way

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fred Weasley

Summary:

What happens when two people try way too hard to act normal?

Warnings: Swearing, Death, Smut/18+ NSFW

Author’s Note:

Hi all! Thank you so much for being SO patient. I definitely expected to have this up at the very latest yesterday, but alas that’s no he way the universe intended it to be. HOWEVER, expect the next chapter at my normally scheduled time (I have a little fun something planned for next chapter)!

I hope you enjoy and as always feel free to like, comment, and reblog. I LOVE interacting with you all!!

Masterlist

<<<Chapter 14

And I'm feelin' the same way all over again Feelin' the same way all over again Singin' the same lines all over again No matter how much I pretend

“Now, why is it I’m not surprised to find you here?”

A deep and boisterous voice jolted Hermione fully awake. Sitting ramrod straight in the old squatty armchair, the pieces of parchment previously spread across her lap slid off, floating to the floor in all directions. She’d been dozing, stuck in a perpetual state of semi-consciousness since three in the morning. Never fully asleep. Never fully awake. Glancing at the old grandfather clock in the corner she saw it was nearly seven. Bringing a hand up, Hermione ran her fingers through the nest that was currently her hair, grimacing when she met several tangles and knots. Looking around her with bleary eyes, she found Sirius Black standing before her, arms crossed as he stared down at her in curiosity.

“Sirius, I—” she began to apologize, realizing only then that perhaps she wasn’t allowed to freely roam the house as she did the Burrow. But Sirius cut her off, giving her an amused look.

“Relax, kitten. You’re fine. I should have known you’d find the library before long. It’s lucky that you brought your own reading material though. Remus and I haven’t finished clearing the shelves for cursed books,” said Sirius casually, bending down to pick up one of the many pieces of parchment that lay at his feet.

Hermione stood, crossing the space between them, and snatching the parchment from his hand before scrambling to pick up the rest of the loose papers. She didn’t know how much Fred and George fancied sharing their inventions – even if it was with someone as innocuous as Sirius Black. “Cursed books?” she asked, hoping the question would distract the older wizard from her suspicious actions.

Whether it truly did or not, she couldn’t be certain. But either way Sirius took the bait with good humour, sitting casually on the couch in front of the library fireplace. He settled into the old cushions with a contended sigh, kicking his leather-booted feet up onto the coffee table and spreading his arms wide across the back of the couch. He sat with all the pomp and circumstance of a royal. Apparently, twelve years in Azkaban and another two on the run did nothing to quell his aristocratic upbringing and all the self-assuredness that came with it. The expensive material of his dark green button up shirt matched the extravagance of Grimmauld Place well, Hermione thought, – even if the house still held a generous layer of cobwebs. The Sirius Black that sat before her was nothing like the Sirius Black she’d known before. Even after observing him for quite some time the night before, his appearance still threw Hermione for a loop. He looked good – healthier. No longer was he the gaunt, crazy shell of a man she’d met a year and a half ago. Instead, he looked like he’d gained some weight back, the shadows under his eyes were nearly invisible, and there was a spark to him that was previously missing. Clearly his newfound freedom had done him good. Although, from the sounds of his heated statements at dinner the night before, you’d think he was still locked up in a cell. Sirius was none too pleased about being stuck in his childhood home. Hermione, while sympathetic, felt the very muggle sentiment of ‘Beggars can’t be choosers’ come to mind.

“Yes, cursed books—” Sirius twisted his face in a mixture of disgust and disdain “—meant to cause harm to anyone who touches them if their blood isn’t completely pure. Dear old mummy was many things, but tolerant of those unlike herself was not one of them. Of course, that shouldn’t surprise you. You had the pleasure of meeting her likeness yesterday.”

Hermione’s face twisted as well thinking about the horrible portrait and the vile insults the woman had screamed. That had been Sirius’s mother? Suddenly his disdain for the Black family home made a bit more sense. “Yes, I remember quite well. She seemed lovely,” her words dripped with sarcasm as she dropped the pile of parchment down onto the coffee table and sat on the opposite end of the couch. She pulled Fred’s cardigan tighter around her body, fighting the slight chill of the early morning. It may have been the end of July, but last nights storm was still wearing off.

Sirius let out a barking laugh, throwing his head back. “Oh yeah. Real saint of a woman.”

“I can’t imagine how idyllic your childhood must have been.”

“Sunshine and rainbows my dear.”

“Does that mean you did, in fact, get the pony you always wanted for your fifth birthday?”

“Just one pony? You clearly underestimate the generous nature of my family.”

“Oh of course. How silly of me.”

The pair chuckled lightly, sending fond smiles in each other’s direction. It truly was good to see Sirius in better circumstances and in better spirits, thought Hermione resolutely.

“So, what are you doing this early in the library? Hoping to do a bit of early morning reading?” asked Hermione, putting an end to their clever repertoire.

“No, I was actually taking a morning sniff around the garden and a certain furry feline mentioned you were in here,” said Sirius with a wry grin.

“I was wondering where Crooks had gone. I haven’t seen him since last night when Kingsley Shacklebolt nearly toppled over him on his way to the loo,” giggled Hermione, remembering the way the large authoritative man had nearly fallen straight into Emmeline Vance’s lap.

“Yes, he’s been staying out of the way since. I sent him up to the attic to keep Buckbeak company for a while. Hope that’s okay.”

“I’ve learned it’s not really up to me to decide the comings and goings of my cat. The most I can do is make sure his food dish is full and offer the odd scratch behind the ear when he fancies it,” Hermione admitted.

“Well, that’s not unheard of for Kneazles – even part Kneazles like Crookshanks,” sniffed Sirius.

“Buckbeak is here then?”

“Yeah! Wish I could give him room to spread his wings a bit more. He had loads of space last year when we were on the run, but Dumbledore thinks it’s best if I stay put here. No matter how vile it is. Apparently, I’m the Ministry’s number one scapegoat.”

“Lucky you.”

“I know. It’s difficult being so popular—” Sirius smiled wryly and brought a hand up to rub at his neatly trimmed facial hair “—I’d set him free of course, but I worry the ministry might catch sight of him. That and we’ve become rather attached.”

“Shall I start drafting the marriage license?” Hermione asked, giving Sirius a cheeky look.

The older wizard’s shoulders shook as full body laugher racked him. “You’ve gotten funnier,” he observed.

“Bad influence,” Hermione responded, thinking fondly of Fred and George and her time performing mental gymnastics the previous year. Everything was a joke with the Weasley twins. Everything was a witty comeback, a good one-liner, a clever repartee.

“Not my godson’s, surely?”

“No, Harry’s not nearly as funny as me.”

“Hah! Now that I don’t believe. He’s too much like his father.”

Was he? Hermione wondered. Everything she’d heard about Harry’s father lead her to believe that he was more like Fred and George than Harry. Sure, Harry was good at quidditch, didn’t care much for schoolwork, and had a special fondness for sarcasm, but despite his best efforts he tried his best to fly under the radar.

“How is he, by the way? My godson that is.” Sirius shifted, turning towards her, and taking on a more serious tone.

“Okay, I think. Last I heard from him was a week or so ago. He’s miserable at his aunt and uncle’s but that’s to be expected—” she paused, considering whether to say the next part “—Dumbledore told Ron and me not to write to him too much. At least not about anything serious. He doesn’t want to worry him after…well after everything that’s happened.”

“That’s a load of dragon shite,” scoffed Sirius. “He’s old enough and Merlin knows he deserves to know what’s going on more than anyone.”

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. Sirius wasn’t wrong. Harry did deserve to know the truth. Glancing again at the clock, she saw the large hand was now pointing decidedly south. People would start waking up soon.

“Well, I’ll have to pay Buckbeak and Crooks a visit sometime today—” Hermione stood, picking up her stack of parchment and stretching. The muscles of her back ached in protest; sleeping upright really did nothing for her spine “—perhaps my cat will pay me the kindness of putting up with my presence.”

Sirius laughed again, standing himself but lingering behind as she made her way to the door. Hand on the large brass handle, Hermione paused. There’d been something on her mind since the night before. Sitting around the table as order members chatted and filled themselves with Molly’s famous roast dinner, the overwhelming darkness of their situation slipped through the cracks of mild-mannered joviality. She couldn’t ignore the whispered snippets of conversations carried over from the Order’s meeting or the way they looked at each other as each member left for the evening – as if the weight of some grave responsibility rested upon them; as if it might be the last time they saw each other.

“Things are different now, aren’t they,” she murmured the words, still staring down at the handle in her grasp. She knew Sirius would be honest with her. He was always honest with Harry – to a dangerous level in her opinion. Somehow, he didn’t see them as children the way everyone else did. A fact she was both hesitant about and grateful for. The room was quiet, almost too still, as Hermione waited for him to answer. Surely, he expected her to say something. How could she not? What was going on, this war, it affected her differently. Certainly not in the way that it did Harry, but still. As a muggleborn, as a…mudblood, she was more vulnerable than most and she’d certainly done nothing in her life to fly under anyone’s radar.

“I’m afraid so, kitten,” Sirius sighed, and she didn’t need to turn around to know that his shoulders were no doubt slumped in exhaustion. War was a tiring thing.

“Should I be worried?”

“No,” Sirius answered, too quickly for Hermione’s liking. “The only thing you should be worried about right now is continuing to outwit every poor sod at Hogwarts.”

Hermione turned then, looking over her shoulder and giving the older wizard a reproachful look.

“Hogwarts is the safest place for anyone these days, Hermione.”

“Are you so sure about that?” Hermione left Sirius with the question hanging in the air, turning, and exiting the library with haste. She knew the statement was entirely out of character. Perhaps Sirius was unaware of that, considering he knew very little about her. But she couldn’t help but be shaken by her own doubt in Hogwarts and the abilities of their headmaster. She had a bad feeling about the upcoming year. Maybe her endless nightmares were turning her sour and cynical. Maybe she’d read too many bias-ridden articles in the Daily Prophet. Or maybe it was watching her best friend cry over the dead body of a fellow student.

“Wotcher, ‘Mione,” called a voice in surprise as Hermione collided with a tall, unyielding body. Bringing out a hand to stabilize herself, she was met with the shock of damp skin. Once her vision focused, she realized in even more shock that she was currently touching the bare expanse of a pale and freckled chest. Wide and firm, the muscles flexed under her fingertips. Please don’t be him, please don’t be him, she chanted in her head before looking up slowly. Drats. Of course, it was Fred’s chest she was currently groping. She should move her hand away. She really should. But she couldn’t. He was unfairly handsome with his hair freshly washed, droplets of water running from the wet strands at the nape of his neck down his shoulder and meeting her hand in heavy rivulets. He smelled good as well – warm and spicy and fresh like soap and myrrh with just a dash of peppercorns. Damn him.

“We really need to stop meeting like this,” joked Fred, stepping around her and walking backwards towards his room. “Where’ve you been this early?”

“Just looking over your notes.” Hermione held up the parchment and watched as Fred’s eyes lit up.

“Wicked! Want to go over them before breakfast?”

“Um, sure. I just need to go and change.”

“Yeah, yeah. Take your time. Do all your girly stuff and meet me and George back in our room when you’re done.” Fred smiled and it took everything in Hermione’s power not to drool. It should be illegal to walk around this house in nothing but your trousers.

Still, she was going for normal. So, she opted for letting out a very unladylike snort instead. “Girly stuff?”

“Sure—” Fred shrugged “—you know. Hair, makeup, outfit, terrorizing small villages—whatever takes you lot so long to get ready.”

“Are you under the impression girls need to strike fear into the hearts of innocent people before they can drink their morning cuppa?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me. You certainly scare me,” said Fred, widening his eyes teasingly.

“Hmmm good. Give me ten, alright?”

“Only ten?!” cried Fred disbelievingly as he turned away from him.

“It’s a nearby village!” Hermione called after him, earning herself a loud guffaw from the Weasley twin.

She tried not to let Fred’s laughter go to her head. Sirius had just been stroking her ego in the library; Fred’s reaction was nothing but equal to that surely and she didn’t get all flustered from Sirius’s compliments. However, only five minutes later Hermione caught the sight of her stupidly pleased grin in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. She rinsed her toothbrush and set in down to dry. Gripping the sides of the porcelain sink in her hands she braced herself against it and stared hard into the mirror.

“You can’t have him Hermione. He has a girlfriend,” she told herself quietly feeling an overwhelming sense of dread. “An incredibly tall, gorgeous, talented girlfriend that you don’t even hold a candle to. Why would he want you? He probably likes her because she spends all her free time doing cool things like quidditch,” said Hermione, voice taking on a woe is me tone.

Continuing to stare into the mirror, she assessed her appearance. George had been astute in his assessment of her the day before; she had gotten taller. Her father remarked that this was probably the tail end of puberty making its mark as she now surpassed her mother’s height by two inches. Her mother agreed with this statement when Hermione begrudgingly admitted she was in desperate need of new bras. It wasn’t just her body that had changed either, she mused staring hard at the angles of her face. She’d lost some of the roundness to her face, the softness of adolescence melting down to sharper angles. The cut of her cheekbones was more pronounced, her jawline was harder, and her chin had more of a point to it. Despite the changes, Hermione couldn’t help but still feel very plain. Sure, she was much prettier than the year before and even more so than the years before that, but she didn’t compare to the other girls at Hogwarts. She didn’t have Lavender’s pretty blonde waves, Pavarti’s smooth flawless skin, Fay’s high cheekbones, or Emmy’s sparkling blue eyes.

And those were just the girls in her year, sulked Hermione as she exited the bathroom and popped back into her bedroom to drop off her toiletries. There were the older girls too. The ones with more confidence and more experience. How was she supposed to compare to someone like Angelina Johnson? The Gryffindor seventh year had a good four inches on her, and it was all leg. Not to mention she was about as athletically fit as a girl could get. Hermione’s body wasn’t awful she thought, she had gotten more curves over the last few months and she was considerably thinner these days. But that was due more to the lack of sleep and stress. She didn’t have lean muscles from hours working out of the quidditch field.

“I could play quidditch if I wanted,” Hermione said petulantly to herself.

“Hah! Good one.”

Hermione turned in surprise to see Ginny entering their room. Great.

“I’ve seen you on a broom Hermione and while I love you dearly, you’re completely rubbish,” said Ginny very sweetly but honestly.

Hermione sighed.

“Why is it so bloody cold in July?” asked Ginny. The younger girl gave an exaggerated shiver and dug into the contents of her dresser before pulling out a thick pair of socks.

“I’m sure it will wear off soon. The weatherman said we’re due for a heatwave soon before I left home,” Hermione informed her, grabbing her wand, and tucking the stack of notes under arm.

“Weatherman? Like on the television?” asked Ginny curiously. Ginny had chosen Muggle Studies as one of her electives – really to please her father than for her own amusement. Hermione had been helping her and she was picking things up surprisingly well.

Hermione nodded, looking down at her own sock ladened feet. Reaching once again for Fred’s cardigan, she stopped herself. He did say it was hers now, but wearing it so often felt a bit like overkill. She was supposed to be acting like she wasn’t in love with him. So, instead Hermione dug into the wardrobe and pulled out one of her new jumpers – a green knit pullover that fit well over her t-shirt. She paused to put it on before heading for the door.

“Where are you off to this early?” asked Ginny, sitting down on her bed, and pulling out a copy of Seeker Weekly. She flipped through the pages casually.

“Summer homework,” Hermione lied.

“Have fun,” Ginny called after her, although her intonation implied that she thought nothing about doing summer homework sounded fun.

Hermione crossed the hall, knocking on the twins’ door lightly.

“Come in!” one of the twins called from the other side. Hermione turned the doorknob, cautiously entering the room. Her eyes darted back and forth for any signs of suspicion. You never knew with Fred and George. Hermione always had to be on her guard. During their time together at school, she found they were respectful enough to keep her out of their pranks as she was helping them. But that didn’t mean she was exempt from the odd exploding ink bottle or charmed book.

“Guard down, Hermione. You’re here on business – no pranks today,” said George in good humor.

Hermione relaxed a little, stepping fully into the room and crossing to where Fred and George sat on their bed.

“So—” she began, slipping into the business-like manner she usually took when she worked with them on their inventions “—I’ve read through your notes and I have to say I’m quite impressed boys.”

“You read through them all? Already?” asked George in disbelief.

“Are you that surprised?” snorted Fred. “Go on ‘Mione. I believe you were saying something about us being devastatingly handsome geniuses?”

Hermione rolled her eyes and took a seat on the bed as well, crossing her legs and sorting through the parchment. “Alright, walk me through it.”

The pair of them looked at her in confusion, side-eyeing each other before responding in unison, “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m sensing a theme in some of these products. So, walk me through it. What’s your elevator pitch, so to say?”

“Our what?” asked Fred, scratching the back of his head.

“Honestly, and you two call yourselves aspiring businessmen. An elevator pitch is a short speech you give to explain your idea or product. For example, imagine you’re in a lift at the ministry and an investor walks in and you only have the few minutes during your ride to convince them to give you money for your product. Elevator pitch,” Hermione explained, watching at understanding washed over their faces.

“Brilliant, these muggle things,” smiled Fred, looking to George.

“Right, well how many times have you wanted to skive off class or get out of a meeting or event but didn’t have a proper excuse?” began George, putting on all the airs of a professional showman.

Hermione’s opened her mouth to say that she’d never once considered skiving off class, but Fred cut her off.

“We’re speaking to the general public here ‘Mione. Keep your personal biases to yourself, please.”

Hermione snapped her jaw shut, screwing her mouth to the side.

Fred smiled smugly before picking up where George left off, “You wished you had the excuse of a sick day, but your acting skills just aren’t up to scratch.”

“Instead of agonizing over how you’re going to properly convince Madame Pomfrey you’ve got a pounding headache—”

“—or prove to your boss that you really have been on the toilet all day—”

“—try a sweet from Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes’ Skiving Snack Box!” cried George.

“Fever Fudge.”

“Fainting Fancies.”

“Puking Pastilles.”

“Nosebleed Nougat!”

The pair were really getting into it now.

“All you’ll need to get out of any class, appointment, or event—”

“—with none the wiser.”

They ended their speech with wide smiles, clearly pleased with themselves. Hermione looked at them for a moment. As much as she didn’t agree with the implied usage of the products, she couldn’t deny that many students would want them.

“How…how do you like it?” Fred asked, looking nervous as Hermione considered them.

She smiled. “I think you’re going to sell out before you’ve even finished making them,” Hermione answered honestly. “But—” she continued, putting a pause to their mounting excitement “—we have a lot of work to do before then. There are large gaps, and it looks like the only one you’ve made any progress with is the nosebleed nougats.”

“Yeah, about those—”

“You haven’t figured out how to stop the bleeding, have you?” Hermione asked, cutting George off. Although, the question was really more of a statement.

“How did you know?” asked Fred.

“It’s all in the notes, Frederick,” said Hermione exasperatedly, jabbing a finger into the pile of detailed drawings and messy handwriting. Merlin, this was going to be a long morning.

“What about banewort?” suggested George, an hour later. They’d put as much brainstorming into the Nosebleed Nougats as they could for the time being, finally settling on ground mustard root as the best possible clotting agent to stop the bleeding. Now they’d moved onto Fever Fudge.

“Only if you want to kill your customers!” exclaimed Hermione, shooting George a look of exasperated disbelief. She paced the floor of the bedroom, wracking her brain for what could possibly induce fever without causing permanent harm…or death.

“That’s nightshade mate,” she heard Fred whisper to George.

“How was I supposed to know that?” George whispered back.

“I don’t know, maybe five years of potions classes?” said Fred sarcastically.

“You’re the one that got an Acceptable in potions!”

“Yes, but I failed Herbology!”

“Can you two please shut it for just a second? Please?! I’m trying to think…” Hermione continued to pace, feeling her hair growing in size. It always did when she was frazzled.

“Oh! Hermione!”

“I said shut it!” Hermione growled, spinning on the spot, and glaring a hole through Fred.

Fred stared back at her in surprise before crossing his arms and sitting back. “Fine,” he said with contempt.

Hermione immediately regretted her outburst. “What is it Fred?” she asked with an exhale.

“Nothing.”

“It was clearly something.”

“Yes, but then you yelled at me.”

“You’re being a child.”

“I know you are, but what am I?”

“Just spit it out Frederick!” Hermione picked up a pillow from the empty bed and hurled it towards Fred, knocking the petulant expression off his face. It was immediately replaced by a mischievous smile and Hermione’s blood ran cold. Before she could even take a step, Fred had leapt from the bed and lunged for her. In the last second, Hermione darted out of his way bounding onto the empty bed and landing on the other side, so the distance of a mattress lay between them. She picked up another pillow and held it defensively in her hands.

“Go on, throw another pillow. I dare you,” challenged Fred, leaning lighting on the mattress in front of him, fingertips steepled on the dark grey duvet.

“Tell me what you were going to say,” Hermione said back, feeling her blood race through her veins, heart beating loudly in her ears as she stood light-footed, waiting for Fred to pounce.

“Throw the pillow.”

“Tell me.”

“Throw the pillow!”

“Tell me!” shouted Hermione, swinging the pillow back and chucking it across the bed with all her strength. Unsurprisingly, Fred caught the pillow easily and Hermione let out a shrill scream. She turned, darting for the door, but Fred vaulted the bed and reached her just as her fingers brushed the brass of the doorknob.

The burly ginger’s arms wrapped themselves around her middle and hoisted her up into the air as she kicked and yelled, “Put me down Frederick!”

“Such a violent little lion! No wonder they sorted you into Gryffindor! Is that the best you can do?” asked Fred, throwing her down onto the bed. Hermione bounced, the mattress surprisingly springy for its age. Huffing, she blew the hair out of her face just in time to see Fred swinging a pillow down at her. She brought her hands up in front of her face, blocking the strike and grabbing hold of the pillow tightly. With a hard tug, Fred came toppling down over her, but still the fight was on. In a mess of knees and elbows they grappled over the pillow, laughter bubbling up from their chests. Soon the real reason for their confrontation was forgotten and instead each party fought simply for the sake of winning.

“Aha!” Fred exclaimed triumphantly as he successfully pinned both of Hermione’s wrists down on the bed. Hermione breathed hard, glaring up at Fred and realizing she’d been bested. She gave one last effort to break free, bucking and twisting her body, but remaining weighed down by the boy above her. Hermione let out a groan of frustration.

“Now, now. Don’t be such a poor loser, ‘Mione. Maybe this’ll teach you to not start fights you’re no match for.”

“In case you’ve forgotten I terrorized an entire village this morning before I got here. You’re barking if you think I’m frightened by you Frederick Weasley.”

They both laughed, hearty full body guffaws, at the inside joke until their sides ached and they simmered down into small giggles that forced past their lips. In that moment Hermione was struck by just how full Fred’s bottom lip was. She stared at it, unwillingly, before her eyes flickered back up to find Fred looking down at her. He looked at her very much the same way he had the night of the yule ball and then again in the hallway the night before.

A throat cleared from inside the room and their heads snapped to the side to see George still sitting on the other bed, looking at them like he’d just witnessed a unicorn walk through the door on its hind legs eating a bag of crisps. Hermione looked back up at Fred and then at their bodies closely pressed together with sinking realization. Fred jumped off of her, nearly toppling onto the ground as he did so. Hermione in turn, half scooted, half crab walked across the bed until she was flush with the headboard. She could already feel a brilliant flush forming on her face as the room stood silent, Fred staring hard out the window, George smiling widely in scandalous amusement, and Hermione glancing nervously between the two and the door. It was on her third pass over the door that it swung open, revealing a very annoyed Ron.

“There you are! Come on, mum’s got breakfast ready and then she has a whole list of chores,” grumbled Ron, leaning against the doorframe giving the three of them an odd look. “What’s going on in here?”

“Nothing! Let’s go down for breakfast, I’m starving.” Hermione scurried off the bed and towards the door, thanking Merlin and those who came before and after him for Ron’s impeccable timing.

What was that?! she asked herself as she descended the stairs, letting Ron’s whinging over chores fill the space her thoughts could not. Her body felt hot and flushed. She reached for the bottom hem of her jumper and lifted it over her head, extricating herself from the suffocating layer. Suddenly the day wasn’t so chilly. In fact, a cold shower sounded quite swell.

Ron may have given her a perfectly timed exit from the room, but there was no escaping the self-satisfied grin on George’s face at breakfast. Of course, he found the whole thing amusing. It was only her pitifully pathetic crush on his brother and her complete lack of self-control when it came to Fred pushing her buttons. She should have never thrown that pillow. Surely, they both knew now. At the very least George knew. At worst Fred knew. It was most likely why he wouldn’t look at her. Why he sat at the opposite end of the kitchen table. She could kick herself. Barely a day with the Weasleys and she’d made an absolute fool of herself. Good going Granger.

Fred was mortified to say the least. Barely a day with Hermione and he had completely lost his mind. What on earth had possessed him to manhandle her like that? And in front of George no less. He’d never hear the end of it now. He could already hear his brother’s self-righteous words in his head: What about Angelina? What about Ron? I thought you said you didn’t have feelings for Granger. Lying to your twin brother now, Freddie?

What an absolute nightmare. He couldn’t even look at her, too afraid of the reproachful stare she was sure to give him. She must think him a real tosser now. Fred Weasley, the boy with a girlfriend, wrestling around with his little brother’s girl? She isn’t his girl though, said a small little voice in the back of his head. Yeah, but she’s as good as and once again I have a girlfriend, Fred answered back. He could do with a hard pillow to the head now, he reasoned – anything to get his mind off the way Hermione’s body had felt under his. The softness of her as she laughed sweetly below him, hair fanned out on the mattress. If he thought the memory of their kiss last Christmas was hard to forget, then this might as well be permanently branded onto the inside of his skull.

He spent the rest of the day avoiding her, choosing the chores on his mother’s list that were sure to keep him the busiest and furthest away from the bushy-haired fifth year. Unfortunately, that meant he was pruning the overgrown Shrivelfig tree in the garden and mucking out Hippogriff dung in the attic. They were tasks that would have taken him easily no time at all with magic, but he decided to leave his wand behind seeing the hard and nasty work as both a time consumer and a strange form of penitence for his previous behavior that morning. Maybe if he wore himself out, he wouldn’t be so bloody horny.

“Alright there, Freddie?” asked George, tinkering with a spitting teapot when Fred finally emerged from the attic and back in their room.

“Piss off,” Fred grumbled. He was tired, sticky, and smelled like Hippogriff dung. The last thing he wanted to hear was the bout of teasing George had undoubtedly been saving up since that morning.

“Someone’s in a mood again. I thought maybe all that physical exertion would have left you in better spirits.”

“You know, surprisingly, spending the day knee deep in Shrivelfig juice and Hippogriff shite really hasn’t left me too chuffed,” Fred bit back. He pulled his filth-covered shirt off and threw it on the floor before searching for his towel.

“Now brother, you and I both know that isn’t at all what I was referring to,” said George condescendingly. He placed the teapot down on the desk and gave Fred a knowing look.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” responded Fred, finding his towel underneath a pile of brightly covered packaging. He gave it a good shake before slinging it over his shoulder and making his way to the door. He needed a shower.

“You can’t avoid this forever!” George called after him.

“I said piss off!” Fred called back, only earning him a great roar of laughter from George as he slammed the door behind him.

He saw Ginny in hallway as he stormed towards the bathroom. The poor girl became another victim of his bad temper as he lifted two very rude fingers when she’d wrinkled her nose and told him he smelled like Bubotuber puss on a hot day. She called him a berk in return which Fred allowed, because she was right. Why couldn’t George just leave it alone? He’d been dogging Fred for nearly a year now about Hermione and it was grating on his nerves more than ever. No matter how many times he told his twin he didn’t fancy the girl, he still pressed on. It’s because he knows you’re lying, thought Fred irritably. Twins – they knew too much. Although Fred reasoned if George truly knew everything about him then he’d know well enough to let it be. Fred was dating Angelina. Ron liked Hermione. Hermione liked Ron. End of story.

The cold water did nothing to simper Fred’s foul mood. He carried it with him all through dinner, snapping at Ron twice and earning him a sharp dressing-down from his mum. So, when dinner was over, he opted to skip dessert and head upstairs instead, shooting George a look that said, ‘If you follow me, I’ll kill you’. Thankfully, George heeded his warning and left Fred to do as he pleased. He spent most of the night making fake wands. When he finished with that, he attempted to see how long he could balance items on top of each other using a simple levitation spell. His best time was thirty minutes and twenty-eight seconds, levitating the desk, a chair, and three books all on top of a single galleon, before they toppled over in a large crash. His mother’s scolding yell traveled all the way up from the ground floor and put an end to his little game. Finally, when the sun had set for the day, he reasoned he could go to bed. Maybe a fresh start would set him right. But the world was cruel and so sleep evaded him like the plague. Sitting up after nearly an hour of tossing and turning, Fred threw back his covers and grabbed his notebook and a few books from the desk before storming out of the room.

To his great relief the library was empty when he entered. The clock in the corner told him it was nearly ten at night. Everyone was probably in bed or headed there. George of course had been nowhere in sight when he’d left their room, but he was probably listening to one of Sirius’s old war stories. Turns out Sirius Black had been quite the prankster in school as well – much like Fred and George, though not nearly as committed as they were, Fred thought. Sitting down on the couch, he grabbed the moth-eaten afghan from the back and draped it over his lap then opened his book and began to read. Fully immersed in a chapter on boils and their healing droughts, Fred failed to hear the library doors open.

“Oh!” a startled voice broke him from his concentration, and he looked up to find Hermione standing before him. “I didn’t think anyone else would be up this late,” said the witch bashfully.

Fred glanced to the clock again to see the hands pointed to nearly one in the morning. Had he really been reading for that long?

“I can…I’ll just go,” stuttered Hermione, turning to exit the library.

“No,” said Fred a bit too forcefully before clearly his throat and evening his voice. “I mean, I can leave if you want the space to yourself.” He made to rise from the couch.

“Oh, don’t do that. You were here first. I don’t mind sharing if you don’t,” said Hermione, chewing on her bottom lip in an irritatingly distracting manner.

Fred swallowed thickly. A small part of him did care. It cared very deeply. But he needed to act normal. Friends could read in the same library as each other. So, he put on his best impression of calm and unbothered when he answered, “Not at all.”

He relaxed back into the couch, surprised when Hermione seated herself on the other end. Maybe he hadn’t offended her as badly as he thought he had. If he had, he assumed she would have taken the chair instead.

“It’s a bit chilly in here.”

“Want me to light a fire?” Fred asked.

“Could you?”

Fred nodded his head, reaching for his wand only to realize he’d left it in his room. “I don’t have my wand,” he said sheepishly.

“Oh, that’s alright,” responded Hermione, curling her legs underneath her and opening her book.

Fred glanced down at the blanket covering his lower half. “Do you want the blanket?”

Hermione looked up from her book. “Wouldn’t you be cold?” she asked hesitantly.

Fred shrugged. Probably, he thought, but the least he could do is put up with a bit of cold for her.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it,” she said flippantly.

“Just take the blanket. It’s no big deal.”

“Really, I’ll be okay Fred.”

“I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn about it.”

“I’m not!”

“At least take part of it,” cried Fred, internally groaning when he realized what he’d said. Why did she have to push his buttons so well? It made him forget himself.

“What? You mean like share it?”

Fred hesitated. He was balancing a thin line. If he backtracked now then it would make it seem like he had some reason for not wanting to share the blanket, but if he pushed too far then it might imply some ulterior motive.

“If you want. Blankets big enough for two.” He shrugged nonchalantly. Hermione stared at him and then the afghan for a few moments, most likely weighing the pros and cons of sharing a blanket with her friend’s creepy older brother. Finally, she scooted closer on the couch, having made her decision. Fred sagged in relief, untucking the blanket from around his legs and draping it across Hermione’s lower half as well. They were closer now but not too close, the space under the afghan heating up quickly from their combined body heat. Fred had to admit, it was nice – being warmer that is. It was quiet as they read. Or at least as Hermione read. Fred couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting to the witch besides him, watching her out of the corner of his eye. She was wearing his cardigan again. It hung on her in an unfairly attractive way. His mind drifted to images of her wearing his cardigan and nothing els—stop, he scolded himself. Looking back down at his book, he tried to focus on the words in front of him but instead all he could think about was the uncomfortable tension between them. He needed to do something to put things right again.

“Pigeon berry,” he said, breaking the silence.

“What?” Hermione looked up from her book in confusion.

“For the Fever Fudge – pigeon berry.”

“Really?” said Hermione in surprise, but not in a rude way – in the way she always sounded surprised when a thought was brought up, she had not previously considered. Fred had come to know the tone quite well the previous year.

“Yeah, it has similar effects as nightshade but it’s not nearly as dangerous.”

“It can still be lethal though,” countered Hermione.

“I thought of that—” Fred closed his book and placed it on the coffee table, reaching instead for his notebook and opening it to the notes he’d made earlier that night while the thoughts were still fresh in his mind “—if we concentrate it to get an exact potency and then use small amounts, diluting it with Moondew, we should be able to get the side effects without it being dangerous.”

Hermione scooted closer, looking down at his notes in hard concentration. After a moment, she looked up at him with a wide smile. “That’s brilliant Fred,” she breathed.

Fred shrugged. He’d been doing that a lot that day. One would think he was trying too hard to act cool.

He fully expected Hermione to move away from him once she’d had her fill of his notes, but she didn’t. Instead she stayed nearly glued to his side, their legs and arms touching under the blanket as she returned to her book. They read on for a while longer until Hermione broke the silence with a large yawn. He watched her bring a hand over her mouth and then shake her head back and forth, blinking rapidly as she tried to stay awake. She should go to bed, thought Fred. She looked bone tired. The shadows he’d seen hints of since she arrived were more prominent than ever under her eyes and there was a desperate bloodshot look to the whites of them.

“Why don’t you go to bed ‘Mione?” he suggested lightly.

Hermione shook her head. “No. I can’t.”

“You sure about that? ‘Cause it looks like you’re about ready to pass out any moment.”

Hermione shook her head again. “I can’t…I-I don’t want to. I’ve been…I’ve been having nightmares again,” she whispered her admittance, staring through her book now more than at it.

“Do you wanna’ talk about it?” Fred asked hesitantly, remembering their conversation in the hospital wing the year before and how she’d told him about her nightmares then too.

Hermione was silent and Fred waited patiently as she mulled over his invitation.

“I’m scared,” she finally confessed, closing her book, and laying her head on his shoulder. Fred stiffened for a second, surprised by the intimate action, but then relaxed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, and comforting her as best he could.

“To tell me about your nightmares?” he asked dumbly.

Hermione gave a small hollow laugh. “No, about everything – You-Know-Who, Harry, the war.”

“Everyone’s scared, ‘Mione. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Really?” questioned Hermione, lifting her head from his shoulder, and looking up at him with those large Firewhisky eyes.

“Anyone with good sense is at least. Probably why Percy’s not. He’s not speaking with mum and dad right now actually. Did Ron tell you that?” He didn’t know why he felt like that was the moment to share his family drama, but it seemed to work as a good opening up point. Hermione relaxed further into his chest.

“No. Why?”

“Well, Percy’s in full support of the Minister. Thinks Dumbledore is barmy and thinks mum and dad are equally as barmy for continuing to support him. He told them as much too. It caused a big row. Mum and dad try to play it off to the rest of us like there’s nothing to worry about, but we’re not dumb. I know they’re worried about what’s going to happen now that You-Know-Who’s back. I’ve walked in on them arguing in the kitchen a couple times already this summer.” He could still remember the seething voice of his mother and the tired expression on his father’s face before they both smiled at him, mum asking if she could get him anything.

“Dumbledore asked us not to write Harry about this place and what we’re up to. He thinks the Ministry is going to start intercepting mail.”

“Hmm,” responded Fred, not surprised by that at all.

“It feels strange to be going back to school while all of this is going on. Everyone’s always said the safest place is Hogwarts and I’ve always believed that, but it’s getting harder. I just can’t shake this horrible feeling that things are about to take a turn for the worst.”

Fred didn’t know what to say, which was odd because he usually had something to say about everything. But in that moment, he was at a loss for words – mainly because he felt the same way. He tried not to think about it, but it was always there sitting at the back of his mind. They were quiet for a while, both staring into nothing in the quiet stillness of the library. The lamps were getting low now, the light becoming dimmer as time ticked by and the oil burned down. The weight of Hermione’s head on his shoulder became heavier and he glanced down to see her eyes closed, long lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. Her lips were parted as she breathed deeply.

“Hermione,” he whispered softly, rubbing her arm, and giving her a gentle shake.

“Hmm?” she roused slightly, crinkling her nose in sleepy irritation.

“Time for bed,” Fred whispered, trying again to softly wake her.

“Just a little longer, please?” Hermione mumbled, turning her face, and snuggling into him further. Fred sighed. He was strong, but not strong enough to say no to that.

“Okay, ‘Mione. Just a few more minutes.”

The room was considerably lighter. That was the first thought Fred had upon opening his eyes and taking in the library around him. Sitting there, Hermione snuggled into his side, his own eyes had begun to droop heavily. He had closed them for only a second and then next thing he knew he was horizontal on the couch as the sun peaked through the tall, galvanized steel windows. He blinked, bringing a hand up to rub the sleep from his eyes. The weight and warmth of a second body brought him fully to consciousness and he looked down to find Hermione snuggled between the back of the couch and his side. Fred lay on his back, Hermione still tucked under his right shoulder, her arm circling his waist and head resting on his chest. Her brown tresses spread around her in a wild nest, a single loose curl tickled the underside of his chin and he brushed it aside with his free hand. Their lower halves were a tangle of legs and blanket, her shorts riding up to show bits of bare leg peaking through the afghan. It was very intimate, and Fred thanked Merlin he wasn’t sporting his usual morning salute to the day.

He should get up. It would be easy to slip from Hermione’s grasp and slide off the couch. She’d wake up alone and figure he’d gone to bed and left her there for the night. But he didn’t move. A small, selfish part of him, the same selfish part that convinced him to kiss her all those months ago, made him stay. He might not get another moment like this and he wanted to relish in how nice it felt for just a few uninterrupted seconds. His eyes traced the freckles on the bridge of Hermione’s nose and the line of her parted lips. Merlin, she was beautiful, and he was fully and entirely undeserving.

Even if he weren’t with Angelina, what would Hermione Granger want with him? She was the smartest witch of her age and he was the bloke who’d barely gotten three OWLs and planned to make jokes and pranks for a living. She was going on to change the world or something close to it. Why she even bothered to be friends with him and George he couldn’t understand half the time. He didn’t really understand what she saw in Ron either. He was barely better than him. Ron got better grades and he’d done all the same heroic stuff her and Harry had. But still, he didn’t deserve Hermione one bit either. No one did, he thought in a moment of clarity.

He sighed, trying not to focus on the way his heart clenched in his chest when Hermione tightened her grip around his middle and snuggled further into him, letting out small breathy sighs in her sleep. The moment was almost tranquil and if he had it his way, he’d lay there forever. But, as Fred found, it was usually moments like that, that were meant to broken in some of he worst possible ways.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

Chapter 16>>>

Taglist:

@theworldisugly-22

@aoonai

@sjh-07-10

@is-it-madness

@i-d-e-g-a-f

#fremione #fred weasley #hermione granger #fred x hermione #slow burn #romance #fanfic #fanfiction

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baphomet-media · 4 years

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Blaster Caster - An Ikenfell Review

Genre: Adventure Subgenre: Tactics RPG Developer: Happy Ray Games Publisher: Humble Games Platform(s): PC, Switch, Xbox; Reviewed on Xbox Series X Release Date: October 8th, 2020

Ikenfell immediately caught my eye in a marketing email from Humble. The art style looked charming, and it stayed on my radar for a while until I gave it a try on a whim from Game Pass, needing something to sink my teeth into on Xbox. I was a little wary at first, as tactics games can sometimes be difficult to get into (I’m looking at you, Fire Emblem), but the art style and whispers of praise I kept hearing drew me in. Does it hold up, though? Let’s dig in!

Story

The story of Ikenfell follows Maritte, an “ordinary” (non-magical) girl who travels to the titular school of magic to find her missing sister, Safina. After suddenly gaining magical powers of her own, Maritte soon realizes that something that happened at the school is causing the world to destabilize and magic itself to distort in strange and unusual ways. Best of all, Safina seems to be right smack dab in the middle of everything.

Along the way, Maritte will meet a number of students of Ikenfell, friends and rivals alike of Safina, with whom she will partner in order to get to the bottom of the strange happenings at the school. One of the best things about the game is its diverse cast of characters, seemingly all of whom are queer to some extent. It felt really nice to have some representation that didn’t try to make a huge deal out of the characters’ identities. That being said, I found it somewhat difficult to keep up with characters’ genders, pronouns, and sexualities, since it’s rarely mentioned by the game. One idea that could alleviate this is if the game could remind you of the characters’ pronouns on their status pages. Additionally, while some characters, such as Maritte, Gilda, and Pertisia, felt fully realized and fleshed-out, the other half of the party seemed to languish in stagnation. While Rook and Petronella had a bit of development regarding their relationships to Safina, Ima had basically no backstory and felt forgotten.

The game has plenty of side characters as well that help to flesh out the cast, particularly the bumbling dandy Ibn Oxley and his surly protector Bax. These two were pretty adorable in their relationship, and I’m always a fan of the incompetent braggart archetype, however I feel like they didn’t do much except constantly get in the way throughout the entire story, and I felt like I was always cleaning up after them. The headmistress, Baudovinia Aeldra, has a very touching, and surprisingly dark, backstory, and she becomes something of a tragic antagonist throughout the course of the story.

Perhaps the thing that impressed me the most was the game’s scope of worldbuilding. In one chapter, you ascend a tower as the game drip feeds you bits of its mythology, and I was really into it. Additionally, I like that there are small hints about the world at large outside of the play area, which made me feel like the school was only one part of a larger world, even if it was effectively the center.

The story itself is fairly basic and somewhat on the short side. There were plenty of touching moments throughout, but I couldn’t help but feel like I was just chasing Safina’s coattails the whole time, as she’s all that anyone can talk about. What’s worse, outside of flashbacks, Safina doesn’t actually do anything the entire game, which was a disappointment. I was looking forward to having a sororal bonding moment that didn’t really come until the epilogue, and even that was a bit lackluster.

Gameplay

At its core, Ikenfell is an RPG. The battles take place on a 12x3 grid, and on each character’s turn, they can move and cast a spell from their repertoire. As opposed to other games that have MP or a fixed number of spells, Ikenfell’s spells are thankfully unlimited. Instead, some spells have a cooldown time, though this is rarely an issue, as most spells with cooldowns are powerful spells anyway. Additionally, each spell has its own effective range, so proper positioning is constantly important. Most spells can be categorized as one of the following:

Single-target damage dealing

Area-of-effect damage dealing

Ally buffing

Enemy debuffing

Placing a trap

Other, or some combination of the above

Despite this, most spells feel different from a combination of their ranges and other unique properties. For example, while Pertisia’s Retaliation spell hits multiple targets for damage, it has the unique range of hitting all allies that are orthogonal to her or her allies, incentivising close-quarters play. This pairs well with Gilda’s Teleportation ability, which lets her teleport to the other side of the battle grid and immediately take a second turn. In all honesty, I found the combination of Gilda and Perty so powerful that I spent most of the game using only those two and Maritte, who becomes so physically powerful by the end of the game that she’s a must-have. Unfortunately, I never found much use for Rook and Ima, as their spells never really stood out much to me, aside from being the only characters able to set traps. Traps become useless pretty quickly, since most enemies can fly or teleport to their destination square, meaning unless they land right on a trap, it’ll more likely hinder your own movement. Nel at least had unique abilities in being the only character able to cast healing spells, but the spells are so difficult to actually perform, and they’re so miserably weak otherwise that it doesn’t feel useful to include them, which is really sad considering their backstory!

Enemies also get the same mechanics as the player, which usually meshes well, however it seems like most enemies get way more turns than the player, especially certain enemies that can use actions that immediately give them an extra turn. It pretty much requires you to use Gilda to provide speed buffs and debuffs just to feel competitive. This is felt particularly strongly during boss battles when bosses can summon minions and then immediately take another turn. It can get overwhelming quickly, especially if one character gets knocked out. Fortunately, if you’re leveled up enough and you stay on top of healing and taking out minions, you should be fine in any battle, though this does put the player in an odd dichotomy where you either stay on top of everything for the entire battle, but you make one mistake and you basically lose outright.

The other mechanic to battles is the timing mechanics. Every spell has a specific timing for pressing the A button in order to deal max damage or buff. You also use the same timed button press to defend against enemy attacks, which gives the battles a slight Paper Mario feel. Unfortunately, I found that timing was often inconsistent. Some spells have helpful visual indicators for letting the player know when to hit A, but many are best used slightly before or slightly after the visual trigger, making it frustrating when you whiff a spell or take major damage despite looking like you were right on time. The game has some accessibility options that can bypass this, by making your attacks auto-hit or skipping battles altogether, but this feels more like cheats than balance, so I didn’t use them.

As far as the overworld goes, you travel between areas to reach various story objectives, giving strong Mother series vibes from your party following along behind you. The game allows you to save your progress by petting cats around the school, which is automatically an A+ from me. The cats also refill your HP, so you don’t have to worry too much about healing outside of battle.

I really enjoyed the equipment system in the game as well. Aside from weapons, each other item can be worn by any character, and usually offer both benefits and drawbacks, so it’s up to you to decide which stats you want to optimize on each character. Though it wasn’t a really tough decision, as there are only 5 stats (HP, Attack, Defense, Speed, Movement), and most equipment only modifies the middle three. I ended up speccing Maritte into Attack, Perty into Defense, and Gilda into Speed, since those seemed to match their play styles and base stats.

There isn’t much in the way of side content in the game, the main sidequest being collecting hidden gems throughout the world. These gems can be exchanged for special accessories that give unique effects. Unfortunately, these accessories don’t provide any stat bonuses, so I didn’t find any of them as useful as just buffing stats. Lastly, the game has a few optional bosses to defeat, which basically require you to hit the, admittedly low, level cap of 30. These bosses were interesting, but at that point I was getting sick of boss battles.

Presentation

Ikenfell is a gorgeous game. There’s plenty of great pixel art throughout, particularly in the environment. The character sprites are very expressive, both in battle and on the overworld. I wasn’t a huge fan of some of the portraits (Perty particularly has some oddly lumpy cheeks), but for the most part they’re perfectly fine.

The music in the game is wonderful, and is largely done by electronic musical group Aivi & Surasshu. Most of the background tracks were a wonderful blend of chiptunes and melancholy instrumental which is definitely my thing. Unfortunately I wasn’t all that fond of the vocals on some tracks, but that’s likely just a personal preference thing. My partner loved them, so your mileage may vary.

Conclusion

JK Rowling wishes she could tell a magic school story this good. At the end of the game, I loved the characters and felt good knowing that I had accomplished everything the game had to offer. I loved just exploring, seeing the different locations, petting cats, and listening to the music. Definitely give this game a try if you love RPGs, queer representation, good stories or music, and DEFINITELY if you have Game Pass.

Score: 8 / 10

#review #gaming #ikenfell #happy ray games #humble games

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perspective-series · 5 years

Text

Meta Perspective (11)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: Slight fear, arguing, and injury mention

(Check the reblog for the links to any future chapters)

————————————————————————————————–

Allison settled in the pocket, her head tilted so she was staring up. She...honestly couldn’t believe how everything had turned out. And why she had denied staying with Amanda. Well...that was probably because of the humans she barely knew. But she was just trading them for another set of humans.

She knew these humans would let her go home though. Hopefully without too much questioning. At least Amanda was okay...well, as okay as she could be with her leg like that.

“We’re home,” Roman announced aloud, closing the door behind them.

Logan reached into his pocket, carefully pulling Allison out into the light.

Allison tensed in the grip but did her best to not shake too much. When she was out, she looked between the two humans. “...Thank you for helping me. Even though Amanda didn’t really need any help.”

“Of course.” Roman gave a dramatic bow. “It was our pleasure to help a damsel in need.”

“Indeed.” Logan knelt on the ground, lowering his hand to the coffee table. “We would be happy to provide assistance any time.”

Allison hopped off. “Maybe…” She found herself saying, surprising herself. “But for now, I just want to go home. It’s been a...long day.” A long rollercoaster of a day and now that Allison knew things were okay, she was starting to feel the effect the day had left on her.

“No, of course! Completely understandable.” Roman jumped at the opportunity to reassure her, feeling excited by the possibility she might return.

“Would you like assistance getting home?” Logan asked. There was a pause before his next statement. “I am certain Roman would assist you.”

“Oh, uh, no. No, I’m okay.” Allison said, taking a step away from the humans. “Thanks but, I can get there on my own.”

“Very well then.” Logan gave a decisive nod.

“Do you have to go so soon?” Roman all but whined. “We could play another game! Or I’m certain you’re hungry.”

Allison just shook her head. “I’m fine. But thanks. Maybe I’ll uh...take you up on that later.” Maybe. Allison still didn’t know what to think about everything. “But I really should be heading home.” She headed toward the edge of the table, taking out her hook.

“...okay.” Roman plastered on a fake smile, trying not to show how deflated he felt. “See you later then, perhaps.”

Allison nodded and climbed down the side of the table. After gathering her hook, she headed under the couch and back into the walls. Away from the humans, she felt like she could actually breathe. She was drained and she honestly couldn’t wait to have a few hours to herself. She headed towards home.

“That was disappointing.” Roman groaned.

“Did you expect a different outcome?” Logan raised an eyebrow. “You forget, she’s not exactly fond of us.”

“No, she’s not fond of you.” Roman jabbed a finger into Logan’s chest. “You’re the one who screwed up my chances by being affiliated with you. I mean really, a jar?”

Logan said nothing, instead getting up to return to his studies.

“Oh, sure, now you’re just going to ignore me.” Roman rolled his eyes. “Try to act like you’re all high and mighty because you’re willing to sit in quiet, depressing contemplation. Well, guess what? I can just go where I’m wanted. I think there’s another borrower who I could befriend; one whose chances haven’t been ruined by my robot of a roommate.”

“By all means, leave.” Logan glared at Roman briefly over the edge of his glasses. “No one is stopping you.”

Roman paused, having clearly expected some sort of resistance. “...I will then.”

Making good on his word, Roman opened the front door, only to be greeted by a familiar face.

Virgil stood there, hand up to knock and briefly surprised the door was opened. But his face soon turned to a glare as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Heya Princey, going somewhere?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Roman leaned back warily, not liking the look on Virgil’s face. “...maybe?”

“He was traversing towards your apartment,” Logan called out from his spot in the armchair.

“Oh good, you’re here too.” Virgil let himself in, closing the door behind him and pulling Roman away from it. “Allison isn’t here, is she?”

“No, she just left, why?” Roman pulled his arm from Virgil’s grip, looking vaguely annoyed.

Logan closed his book, looking to Virgil expectantly. He had a hunch why Virgil was here.

“Good.” He wouldn’t have to worry about scaring her now. “Okay, let me start this off by asking, what the hell?” Virgil asked, once again glaring at his two friends.

“Hey, it was a fair assumption!” Roman raised his hands in defense. “All the context clues pointed to the possibility you two were kidnappers! Sorry to accuse you like that, but it had to be done.”

“That’s not what I was talking about,” Virgil said. “I don’t think Allison is in the best state of mind and I think you two are to blame for that.” Virgil turned to Logan. “You most of all, though. I mean, seriously, a jar?”

“That’s what I said,” Roman muttered.

“Yes, I am aware my actions were incorrect.” Logan sighed. “But perhaps I do not need to be berated thrice.”

“By the sounds of things you also ignored her for hours. Like, dude, who does that.” Virgil then whirled around to Roman. “And you. I don’t know exactly what you did but I know you’ve had to have done something.”

“Okay, I relent, we both ignored her pleas to be let go,” Roman admitted. “But only for a little while! We released her later in the day!”

“Hmm.” Virgil still had his eyes narrowed. “Still, I think the damage has been done.” Virgil had seen it with his own eyes. Unlike Amanda, who was more or less comfortable around him and Patton, Allison was more than skittish and afraid when it came to Logan and Roman. Though, mostly Logan.

“I know.” Roman sighed sadly. “That’s why I was going to go attempt to befriend Amanda instead.”

“Yeah...I don’t think so.” Virgil turned away. “At least, not yet.”

“Why not?” Roman raised an eyebrow. “Who made you in charge of Amanda’s friend repertoire?”

“No one, I’m just trying to look out for her. And she doesn’t need a grabby human while she’s trying to let her leg heal.” He tapped on Roman’s chest as he said this and then crossed his arms.

“I’m not grabby!” Roman clenched his hands. “...anymore.”

“Roman, it would be best if you leave her alone.” Logan advised. “We would not want to cause any more collateral damage.”

“Exactly, at least Logan gets it.” Virgil was glad Logan at least knew where he went wrong. Though why he did it in the first place he will never know. “Look...maybe eventually. Maybe if Allison comes back to you, then you can meet Amanda but I have a feeling Allison won’t be back.”

“That may be a sound assumption,” Logan admitted.

“Okay, no, that’s not fair.” Roman huffed. “For one, I can assure you that Allison will come back. She played games with us this morning; it was a whole thing! And for another, I’m beginning to suspect you’re not as nice a borrower companion as you say you are.”

Virgil glared. “We’re not here about me.” Virgil huffed and headed towards the door. “And if you’re so sure, then fine. If Allison comes back, you can meet Amanda. Until then, it’s best if you don’t disturb her.”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying!” Roman pointed an accusing finger at Virgil. “You’re making Amanda’s decision to meet us for her!”

“It does seem rather odd.” Logan murmured, standing up. “After all, from our encounters with Allison, it was made clear that our largest mistake was making assumptions on her behalf.”

“Look, I know Amanda. And I know she doesn’t need more humans in her life. Especially ones she doesn’t know if she can trust. You going to see her could just make things worse.” Virgil glared.

“Worse for whom, exactly?” Roman thought back to her injured leg. “It’s not like she’s going anywhere.”

“Exactly, so she doesn’t need people crowding her.” Virgil glared. “Look, I’ll admit I wasn’t the best at first either. But I’ve been forgiven and Amanda more or less trusts me. Has Allison ever forgiven the two of you yet?”

“Of course she has.” Roman scoffed. “She did come back to us, after all.”

“...she tolerates us,” Logan explained.

“It sounded like she only came back to you for help when she thought Amanda was in trouble.” Virgil raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t exactly call that forgiving you. More, doing what she thought she had to.”

“Oh, suddenly you know what it’s like inside Allison’s brain.” Roman rolled his eyes.

Virgil bunched his shoulders up. “Whatever, I’m leaving.” He opened the door. “Let me know if Allison comes back.” He said, before shutting the door behind him.

“Hey!” Roman swung the door open, following Virgil down the stairs. “You don’t get to storm off all dramatic like that!”

“Roman!” Logan called after him, not wanting his roommate to do something he might regret.

Virgil ignored them, rolling his eyes and he picked up the pace towards his apartment. He quickly slid inside and shut the door behind him.

Patton blinked. “Virgil! Is...something wrong?”

Virgil shook his head but kept his back on the door. “...No.”

“Open up, Virgil!” Roman called out, pounding on the door.

Amanda jumped, startled by the events as she sat watching from the coffee table. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, Roman just things he can barge in here and try to be your friend,” Virgil said, keeping a hold on the door.

Patton blinked. “Virgil, is that where you went? To talk with them?”

“...Maybe.” Virgil admitted and Patton sighed.

“You can’t just keep them away Virgil, uh, unless…” He turned to Amanda. “Do you not want them here?” He asked her.

“Uh, well…” Amanda barely liked her own humans. She certainly didn’t want to deal with the hassle of adding several more to the mix. What if it got overwhelming?

“Come on, just let me talk to Amanda!” Roman pleaded through the door. “It’s not fair if you just declare these things, Dr. Gloom.”

“...what?” Amanda turned to Virgil, confused. “Declare what things?”

Virgil winced. “I-I just told them that it would be best for you if they didn’t come and see you. Isn’t that what you want? Not to be overwhelmed by so many humans.”

Patton groaned. “Virgil…”

“How do you know what I want?” Amanda narrowed her gaze. Didn’t she go off on Virgil about this exact same thing earlier? Had the human listened at all?

Virgil deflated at her look. “I-I was just trying to help you out,” Virgil said. “I mean, you said before you didn’t want other humans knowing about you. I just thought that...still applied here. Especially with how they treated your friend.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” Amanda admitted, lessening her gaze. “I’m...sorry for doubting you, Virgil.” Maybe Virgil was alright after all, even if he could be a pain.

“Hello?” Roman knocked on the door again. “Anybody home?”

“Eh, it’s okay.” Virgil smiled, happy to still be on Amanda’s good side. Patton smiled at how cute it was but then was focused on Roman, still outside the door.

“Uh, but what about Roman?” He asked, looking over at Amanda again.

“I’ll tell him to leave, just say the word,” Virgil said.

“The word,” Amanda repeated, giving Virgil a thumbs-up.

Virgil nodded and turned around. “Sorry Roman, Amanda said beat it.” He said through the door.

Patton winced. “Virgil, you could be a bit nicer than that.” These were their friends they were talking to.

“...can I come back later?” Roman’s question had a hopeful tone.

Virgil blinked and looked to Amanda for the answer.

Amanda wrinkled up her nose, putting her thumb down.

“Nope,” Virgil answered Roman. “Now go home, Princey.”

There was a soft sigh on the other side of the door, the retreating sound of sluggish footsteps, and then Roman was gone.

“Thanks,” Amanda told Virgil. “He seemed a bit too eager for my taste.” Especially when, with her injuries, Amanda would have no way of avoiding such a human.

“No problem,” Virgil said with a smile but Patton was still looking at the door.

“I...I feel kind of bad.” Patton admitted.

“Why?” Amanda asked, looking up at Patton.

“I don’t know I just…” Patton rubbed the back of his neck. Virgil sighed.

“Patton is here is really empathetic. He just feels bad because he knows Roman is upset.”

“That’s silly.” Amanda raised an eyebrow. “After all, you’re not in charge of Roman’s emotions.”

“I know.” Patton sighed. “I just hate seeing people upset. Like, I get why you don’t want to see him. But...well, doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance?”

“A second chance? What?” Amanda looked more confused. “I don’t even know the guy. He hasn’t even had a first chance yet.”

“Well, I said second cause Allison was technically their first,” Patton explained. “And I don’t...feel like that went very well.”

“Me neither. She still seemed jumpy around them. Especially Logan, which makes sense considering he left her in a jar and ignored her for a few hours.” Virgil still couldn’t believe Logan had done that.

“Yeah, and why exactly would I want to hang around a human who made my best friend paranoid?” Amanda pointed out, shuddering in sympathy for Allison.

“No, I know. I understand, it’s just, they’re our friends, you know? Sure, they made a few mistakes but they aren’t bad people.” Patton said, trying to defend his friends.

“Okay, but that doesn’t mean they’re good borrower people,” Amanda argued.

“...I guess.” Patton said with a sigh.

#gt #Giant/tiny #thomas sanders #sanders sides #infinitesimal!sides #au #borrowers #human!roman #human!logan #human!virgil #human!patton #borrower!amanda #borrower!allison #platonic #meta perspective #part 11

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ofmcxie · 5 years

Text

&&. ( ada rhodes ) was just spotted in amsterdam. rumor has it ( she ) is a ( 768 / appears [25] ) year old ( vampire ) who resembles ( anya chalotra ). ( she ) has been said to be ( dauntless & protective ) but also quite ( possessive & volatile ).with all the chaos surrounding the magical underworld, ( she ) has chosen to align with ( the vampires ). ( she ) is currently serving as ( an assassin ). hopefully the city doesn’t devour them whole. // fulfilling celine dahl’s rival

(( Hey guys!! I’m Jade and will be playing the lesbian vampire disaster that is Ada here. I’m always awful at these intro things, but i’m really looking forward to rping with you all :D Feel free to hmu for plots anytime because I live for them lol. Also, i’m going bullet point in the hopes I don’t write an entire essay and it gets too long to read, but we’ll see how well that goes...xD ))

Backstory:

Ada didn’t had the easiest start in life. Born to simple farm folk who never really wanted her, in a time of knights and holy wars when a woman’s sole purpose was considered marriage and children.

She had never been that kind of girl. One of her earliest memories being a time she had tried to go out training with the boys only to be dragged back to their homestead to help her mother cook.

Her father drank a lot, and was an incredibly abusive individual. It certainly wasn’t helped by the fact he was a self-riotously religious man, and Ada had been born with a defect. Her irises had taken on a purple hue from the day she had opened them; not enough to be obvious unless you truly looked, but he had deemed it a mark of the devil.

Ada hadn’t seen it that way. Instead, growing to relish in her uniqueness. Like a physical manifestation of her defiance burned into her very soul, it meant she wasn’t born to be weak.

It caused a great many fights with both her parents who weren’t exactly good people at the best of times, going to bed beaten and hungry more often than not.

The years that followed were no kinder, Ada haven all but given up until one night, were a chance encounter would change her life forever.

She’d been following the well-trodden path home when she’d been ambushed.

Having nothing of value to give the bandits, they’d settled for some other form of payment.

She’d tried to fight them tooth and claw when she realised what was happening, unarmed so fighting dirty, their blood both under her nails on her lips by the time they’d got her to the ground. But they had her now, and they were angry...She’d grown up used to getting in fightings, it was probably the reason she’d lasted as long as she had, but there were just too many of them.

Ada had been incredibly lucky that day. The men not having time to do much of anything before they were being flung off her with such a speed and force that it blurred together. She couldn’t even see what was causing it, but was pretty certain she heard bones crack as they hit trees.

She’d jumped to her feet uncertain whether to expect the same fate, but the whole situation had her reeling, and she’d fallen to her knees again before being able to do anything about it.

An eery quite followed suite, and by the time she’d caught her breath long enough to look up again -- she would have never been prepared for the sight that met her.

It was a woman; beautiful, covered in blood dripping from her mouth and...glorious. Where most would have been terrified Ada only found herself awestruck.

She’d briefly contemplated if this individual’s fangs were a defect as her eyes had been, and the words were out of her mouth before she realised what she was saying.

The comment may have been idiotic, but it seemed to snap the woman out of whatever trance she had been in. A low chuckle leaving her lips instead going for Ada’s neck.

They’d begun to talk, and she’d found this woman was a skilled assassin of all things, apparently it’s easy to do when no one ever sees you. Women certainly weren’t capable of such a thing; it made her work easy.

By the end of the night they’d ended up in a contract of sorts. This woman would teach her some tricks of the trade in exchange for her blood whenever asked for.

Ada was hardly innocent, and if meant gaining even a modicum of power over her own life then she would grab it with both hands.

They met in that very same spot often after that. Three years of being taught certain tricks; where to nick so you could leave the scene before anyone would notice, what substances made for the least traceable poisons.

She’d also helped her get over how she originally reacted to pain, teaching her how to lean into it instead. It was good thing to have in one’s repertoire if she ever got caught and interrogated -- But she unwittingly developed a slight thing for it in the process though she’d be damed if she’d ever admit that, and while she’s 100% a sadist at heart, she does still have a small weakness for it on certain occasions.

The addiction of a vampire bite was no small thing either, and Ada began to believe she might be in over head with this woman; until the night raiders ransacked her village.

She’d been left for dead, convinced it was the end...and yet woke up with a new lease of life.

The woman had turned her, their relationship no longer being a one way street it seemed.

Ada stayed with her for a few centuries before they eventually branched off on their own, though they’re still incredibly close to this day.

Over the years that followed, she quickly gained notoriety for her ability to complete with freelance kill contacts so efficiently, and eventually flagged on the vampire court’s radar --- In the end being taken into their employ of her own volition, more than happy to serve the species that had granted her freedom.

It was during one of these contracts she met an insufferable fallen angel who happened to be after the same person. It turned into a weird game of cat and mouse trying to thwart each other’s attempts, and Ada’s not even certain who actually got the kill in the end, but they still argue about it to this day.

She’s been working for the king and his inner court ever since, and is incredibly loyal to them. She takes pride in being good at her job, and has no qualms killing for them without question -- Her only hard line is children, but that particular request has never come up anyway...

Personality:

Ada keeps her true nature very lowkey and acts differently around most people aside from a select few. She’s very much the ‘look like an innocent flower but be the serpent under it’ type character, and incredibly manipulative when she wants to be. This is especially prominent in the fact that Ada’s gay af, but she has no qualms flirting with men when they’re prey or she needs something from them.

She really does love the colour of her eyes and is glad they didn’t change when she was turned, but on a job she’ll usually experiment with different coloured contacts due to the uniqueness of such features.

Additionally, Ada’s completely down with this notion of vampires coming out of hiding, believing them to be a superior species that shouldn’t have to bow down to mutts or mortals just because their precious guardian angels deem it so — She plans on doing whatever she can to help further that cause.

Connections:

I’m literally open to anything, but here are just a few thoughts:

Enemies with benefits: Filled by Celine Dahl. These two HATE each other; like passion of a thousand suns hate. I mean, Ada isn’t always the calmest person at the best of times, but Celine can somehow PISS HER THE FUCK OFF MORE THAN ANYBODY ELSE IN THE HISTORY OF EVER. With that being said, there’s also this weird pull between them. It’s like all that anger and hatred and loathing spills over into everything they do -- but Ada kind of lives for it. They just try to get under each other’s skin in every way possible. They’ve even slipped up a few times and had some pretty intense hate sex because FUCK I HATE YOU SO GOD DAMN MUCH AND I REALLY WANT TO HURT YOU BUT YOU’RE ALSO REALLY HOT AND NOW MY HAND’S AROUND YOUR NECK AND YOUR STUPID FACE IS INCHES FROM MINE AND...screw it, i’m totally topping though don’t even try!!

Fuck buddies/booty calls 1/4: Rosalia Fuentes, TBA. Ada has nothing against sex workers and sees it as a reputable job like anything else, but like, girl is egotistic af and frankly sees the thought of paying for sex offensive of her skill set. These would basically just be her go-to people whenever she’s back in Amsterdam, and wants someone who’s just completely dtf from the moment they meet up rather than pursuing someone new.

Vampires with the same maker who she weirdly considers family despite hating the term: TBA. I just...love the idea of this? Like Umbrella Academy-esk sort of misfit family that would actually kill for each other.

People who’s family members/loved ones she’s killed, not that they’d know it was actually her...Or if they do there’s no way to prove it: TBA. Just give me allll the angst!

I would love you 5eva if you actually brought her Maker here.

Her favourite blood doll: TBA. Same as the fuck buddies connection, but already pretty addicted to being bitten. Ada doesn’t mind paying for this sort of thing as much, though this would be someone who doesn’t make her pay for it even if they work as one, or maybe that’s not even what they do for a living? Basically an individual Ada would consider making personally her’s if she was around more consistently and didn’t run the risk of having them in constant withdrawal mode.

Anything else you can think of, come at me!!

#nhqintro #abuse tw #non-con tw #blood tw #murder tw #//They're very vague or brief mentions but I thought i'd flag them all just in case #//Side note: The bullet points did not help lol

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jinterlude · 5 years

Text

I’m Just a Foreigner

↳ story header made by yours truly. I do not own the rights to the image used.

» Pairing(s): Wong Yukhei x Reader (female OC)

» Genre(s): High School!AU, Foreign Exchange Student!AU, Humor, Enemies turned Semi-Friends Trope, & Slight-Romance (mostly shameless flirting on Lucas’ end because he’s such a Casanova)

» Warning(s) / Rating: Swearing / PG-13

» Words: 728

» Based off this prompt: “Annoying Neighbors”

• A/N: Putting the author’s note before the actual story because…as part of KWRITERSWORLD Spring Fic Exchange, I have been assigned to @bangtantannie and since I want to expand my NCT repertoire, I decided to go for her NCT Bias! I’m legit laughing at the fact that I had a little too much fun writing for Lucas because he just frustrates me to no end. So, of course, I had to work in some of his iconic lines from that V-Live that I still wish that they uploaded again.

“Holy shit…for the last time, leave me the fuck alone!”

“Kind of hard to do babe when my host family happens to live right next to you.”

You stop in your tracks, inhaling sharply. That annoying prick has a point. Unfortunately, he does live right next to you until the academic year is over. And to your dismay, the school year has just barely started.

Taking in a deep breath, exhaling slowly as you empty your frustrations, you swiftly turn around; your backpack lightly lifts up as it’s light in weight. You then press your hands against your waist. Your lips remain press. Agitation continues to burn brightly in your eyes.

You take a step towards the pain in the ass that calls himself Lucas and narrow your gaze.

“Okay. Listen up buddy and listen well. I will never in a million years go out on a date with you.” You state firmly, poking his well-toned, chiseled chest. Wait. What? Has he always been like that? Your eyes flicker towards his chest, noting how it’s slightly pressed against his uniform shirt.

“Damn…” Your mouth parts a little, but you soon shake yourself back into reality. Now is definitely not the time to ogle Lucas. Scratch. There is never an appropriate time to ogle him because you will never do that again. Never. Ever.

However, Lucas begs to differ. He may be a little slow in the head because of the language barrier, but he’s not completely oblivious to the fact that his favorite upperclassman is feeling him up. He especially loves how dainty your fingers are in comparison to his muscular chest.

Subtly, he flexes his chest; the corner of his mouth curves up. This sense of arrogance glazes over his eyes as you have yet to show any signs of removing your hand.

“You know…for someone who says that they’ll never in a million years go out on a date with me,” Lucas takes a step forward, closing the gap between your bodies, “You have yet to remove your hand off my chiseled chest.” He said softly; his deep voice unknowingly sends chills down your spine.

You groan, removing your hand quickly as if you’ve accidentally touched a scorching hot pan. You then take a step back, creating some distance between the two of you. Though, his strong scented cologne lingers around your nostrils. This musky scent that reminds you of a cologne that is those popular commercials. Has he always had that?

“Focus, Y/N.” You silently berate yourself, mustering a disgusted expression. “Look, why don’t you go after someone your own age or at least someone younger. Why are you flirting with someone older?” You question, raising your brow.

“Because age is just a number, and it doesn’t matter to me.”

“Well, it should.”

“But it doesn’t. You see, my pretty rose, I’m a foreigner; therefore, I don’t care.”

You gawk; a look of utter disbelief washes over your face.

“That doesn’t even make sense!” You yell, releasing your pent-up frustrations.

Lucas laughs, further angering you, “Of course, it does. You just don’t understand it because you don’t see my outlook on things.”

You hold your hands, wanting so much to strangle the idiot in front of you. He has always bothered you to the point of you screaming into your pillow the second your home from school, but this? This is new. You desire nothing more but to choke the living shit out of him.

And the sad thing is that…

Lucas has been enjoying the fact that you want to murder him…

An exasperated groan leaves your lips as you throw your hands up, giving up on this pointless conversation, and walk away from him. You’re so close to your home. You can feel it.

“You’re impossible! You know that, right?!”

“Oh, kind of like me trying to go on a date with you.”

“Can’t we start by being friends? That’s what normal people usually do.”

“After we become friends, then we can go out on dates?”

You inhaled and exhaled sharply again, balling your hands into a fist. You glance over your shoulder, checking to see if he’s still standing there or following you. To your luck, he’s still standing there.

“Did you give up?!”

“Nope! I’m figuring out ways to be your friend now!”

“You are so confusing…!”

“Love you too, Y/N!”

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idolizerp · 6 years

Photo

LOADING INFORMATION ON INDIGO’S MAIN DANCE, LEAD VOCAL BAEK SUNWOO...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: N/A CURRENT AGE: 20 DEBUT AGE: 16 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 14 COMPANY: MSG SECONDARY SKILL: Choreography

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S): simon - his english name, the fans use it but he actually dislikes it INSPIRATION: loved to perform and wanted to pursue dance as a career, thought he’d have a better chance at making it in south korea than in canada SPECIAL TALENTS:

speaks fluent french and english

freestyle dance

abacus calculation/mental math

NOTABLE FACTS:

flexible - can hold his hands behind his back and step over them

has a brother back in canada

can make his eyebrows dance

is ambidextrous

used to play goalie on his school soccer team

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

sunwoo needs a creative outlet, one that indigo’s current musical direction won’t stifle. choreography is a good one, but he’s still on the lookout for one - starting with acting. he’s terrified that if he doesn’t find something he’s going to hit another slump, making this an urgent, short-term goal.

LONG-TERM GOALS:

further down the line, sunwoo wants to establish himself as a performer and a choreographer. indigo is popular now, but as they grow older as a group at some point they’ll have fewer comebacks and will need other activities to fill their time. sunwoo wants to get recognized by msg entertainment as someone who can choreograph other group’s songs. if and when he leaves the company, he’d like to open a dance studio, but he’ll have to have a strong enough reputation as a dancer and network in the industry to ensure its success.

IDOL IMAGE

with his doe eyes, sweet smile, and young age at debut, msg quickly assigned sunwoo an endearing, boy-next-door image. this stands in contrast with his onstage charisma as a main dancer and particularly with indigo’s original, rougher concept. the contrasting “onstage” and “offstage (but still on camera)” personas meant that from early on sunwoo was noted for his versatility. he also retained a slight french canadian accent in his korean, which made him unique and strange enough that he still gets equally teased and fawned over for it.

since the end of re᛫group, msg has focused on emphasizing the things that the public had noticed about him during the show: his work ethic, his optimism, his generosity, his choreography. that’s all fine and well, except that it’s exhausting. since he was so young at debut, he wasn’t expected to use any of his energy on anyone else in the group - as long as he kept up and did his part, that was enough. this new image meant he had to juggle taking care of himself and others, at least in front of the public. it was a natural part of his personality that came out on the show, but not to this extreme. it may be exhausting to have to keep this facade up but it worked to get him through more of re᛫group than he would have otherwise, and it’s successfully kept the new fans on board with him even after he got off the show.

his biggest issue as a performer is that his condition is too easily affected by public reception. when he and indigo are being praised and loved, he’s filled with a unique buzz and energy, achieving a kind of onstage charisma in his performance that can’t be replicated. when he and indigo receive criticism or, worst of all, during their slump, he hits a block. this is the case for pretty much anyone, but sunwoo’s two poles are too extreme. he’s certainly come out of the crash he had during indigo’s rougher years, though, and as indigo maintains a spot near the top he’s been able to stay motivated and keep his quality up. but since the slump he’s been overly sensitive to any fluctuations in indigo’s success, which has made the fluctuations between his good days and his bad ones more dramatic.

IDOL HISTORY

baek sunwoo was born in montreal, canada on an early march morning, rain drizzling outside turning the top layer of the snow still on the ground into slush. he and his brother were raised in a modest two-storey house by their accountant parents who continued to emphasize their korean heritage by speaking korean at home, eating korean food, and attending korean language school on saturday mornings. he took on the canada-friendly name of simon outside the home, but never considered it as a replacement for his korean name - just a way to protect his given name from being regularly butchered.

as a young boy he stood with his feet turned inward, a minor issue which his paediatrician assured his parents could be fixed with leg exercises, suggesting dance as an option. four year old simon was signed up for ballet and took to it like a fish to water, falling in love with the endorphins of exercise and the rush of performing. as he grew older he started taking different dance classes - hip hop, jazz, and modern dance were added to his repertoire. at ten he joined a local dance crew and performed at local festivals and competitions. soon he spent five nights a week at the dance studio. at first his parents objected to him putting so much focus on dance rather than school, but as it became clear that he was taking it seriously as a career path they became dedicated to helping him see his goals through.

he always wanted to be a dancer, always wanted to perform. most importantly, he wanted to be famous. he knew he was a good dancer and had potential. but would it be easy to make it as the son of south korean immigrants in the canadian entertainment industry? he tried, for a time. simon auditioned for les grands ballets canadiens and for the national ballet and was rejected from both; he continued to perform with his dance crew, but they never seemed to win any of their competitions. at the end of one of these competitions, though, simon was approached by a man in a suit with a business card, who told him he was “talented” and had “lots of potential” and “just the right look”, and that he should go to toronto to attend international auditions for a company called msg entertainment. simon had never paid close attention to kpop - he’d heard some songs, but couldn’t name members of any group or anything - but after getting rejected from the canadian dance scene, he figured this was the perfect opportunity. he’d surely have a better shot at fame being korean in korea than being korean in canada. after getting his parents to double- and triple-check that this wasn’t a scam, he booked a train ticket to toronto. after a few rounds, he got a contract, ditched the name “simon” altogether, and packed his bags to move in with his cousins in seoul.

adjusting to trainee life meant coming face-to-face with the shortcomings he hadn’t realized he had. he wasn’t used to hearing korean spoken at a quick pace or with regional dialects, so he often frustrated others with requests for them to repeat themselves. he also spoke korean with a weird french canadian accent, which made it difficult for others to understand him in turn, so sunwoo was put into language classes to fix his messy pronunciation. he attended cheongdam high school and suddenly had to adjust to an entirely different school system and learn subjects in a language he previously mostly used around the house. he didn’t have much experience with singing, either, and there was a steep learning curve to catch up with the other trainees. worst of all, after about a year of training, he started to feel burnt out by the experience. as he focused on his progress and his dancing and vocal skills improved, he found himself stuck in a hole - not listening to other music except kpop, distancing himself from the styles he used to enjoy. he identified less and less with what he was putting out as it earned him more and more praise.

when he was placed in the predebut group that became indigo, sunwoo was revived with new energy. msg wanted a flagship boy group out of them, and that meant flashy choreographies, intricate music videos, catchy music. he liked the direction they were going in enough to bring him out of his slump. he was at his peak when they debuted to huge and sudden popularity. he became quickly known for having a young, sweet personality that contrasted with the onstage charisma their songs required.

after face, though, they hit a slippery slope downwards. their first comeback didn’t generate the interest their debut had, and no matter what efforts the members tried to put in to boost their popularity again, indigo was written off as a failure. sunwoo slumped along with the group, struggling to find a way to prove himself to the public and burn off his creative energy. he turned to choreography, initially just pitching ideas to the msg choreographers and eventually working his way up to getting his name noted in the credits. with promotions few and far between, though, there weren’t as many opportunities to show off. msg gave him something else to do by getting him to return to after school club every once in a while following a successful indigo appearance there. it was a chance to show off his english, keep indigo in the minds of the public, and maybe even gather an international audience for the group, if korea wasn’t going to be welcoming. sunwoo wasn’t a natural at variety, but he felt more comfortable being able to entertain in english, and even if he didn’t boost indigo’s popularity during any of his visits, he certainly didn’t do them any harm.

he’d never admit this, but when msg told indigo that they’d be competing on re᛫group, sunwoo was humiliated. the word “disbandment” wasn’t said, but it felt like a last-ditch effort to save their group. without success on the show, their future seemed highly jeopardized. the pressure made sunwoo hit another slump. knowing that the public held his future in his hands made his feet stumble more often, his voice crack more, his stress more difficult to manage. what he had going for him, though, was his image. he was still only eighteen years old, young and fresh faced and armed with the sweet personality msg had instructed him to take on years ago. he was open on the show about his struggles and talked about them in confessionals while keeping an everlasting hopeful tone, leading to a surge of sympathy from viewers. even as he struggled, he was a strong dancer, and was shown helping others learn the choreography, often staying in the dance studio until late going over details one-on-one with those who needed it. he was praised on his choreography for many of his stages, resulting in public acknowledgment of his skill. though he was certainly not at his peak, sunwoo became known for his generosity, his optimism, and his work ethic. it wasn’t enough to save him - he barely made it into the top 20 - but it was enough to help boost indigo back into the public eye and solidify their reputation for their perseverance.

indigo was more popular after re᛫group than they were even when they had had their explosive debut. msg immediately had plans to put together a comeback, and soon enough indigo was back onstage, earning their first music show win and basking in attention they had been starving for. with the pressure of keeping the group together off his back, sunwoo got out of his slump, with fans noting how much his stage presence and charisma had improved since the show. the song they had promoted was softer than what they used to do, not quite what sunwoo would have chosen, but who cares? they were saved. then msg decided to have them release another song, similarly emotional and slow. then another, then another. as a main dancer who had just bounced back from a decline in his skills and self-confidence, sunwoo wanted to do what he loved: to dance. all of indigo’s newer releases were soft and pretty ballads, with choreographies that required little more than a few mic stands, some swaying, and a twirl here and there. his body ached for the pulsating beat it used to dance to. while the group only rose higher and higher with their new sound and aesthetic, he became restless. he was bored.

on his own time, sunwoo has continued to focus on choreography as a means for him to express himself, even if indigo itself has limited opportunities for it. he’s hopeful that they’ll still have a chance to release a dance track again and have some success with it thanks to their new popularity. he’s also started to look to other avenues, dipping his toe into acting by getting himself a role in the idol-focused drama dream high. he’d always wanted to be famous - now he finally, truly is. but that alone isn’t enough if he can’t dance the way he wants to.

#id.bio #id.msg #id.indigo #id.lee minho

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rileyomalley · 6 years

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Peculiar Tattoos

Numbah two fic gift for @projectcodex‘s birthday. Also if ya’ll haven’t yet you should WISH HIM A HAPPY BIRTHDAY BECAUSE HE IS A WONDERFUL BEAN WHO DESERVES ALL THE LOVE!!! Enjoy reading~

Today could sum up as fairly average in rating, falling into your usual routines of work in the day. You were on your break for the time being, deciding to take a spot outside to get some fresh air. The weather thankfully, dear god, was not that gross smoggy mess that had loomed over Washington like something out of Silent Hill, nor was it glaringly hot and humid. It was that in between that was just right. When you weren't lazily looking through your social media sites, you would idly people watch throughout town who passed by, swinging your legs a bit looking in no particular direction. Something across the way caught within the haze of your spacing mind, leaving your brow to scrunch up and try to figure why. Familiarity hit you like a freight train when one person in particular stood out from all the rest at the shop across the way. It was Romero. Holy shit. It was maybe about...a couple months or so since you'd run into this man by happenstance, stopping in at one of the shops downtown before heading home from work or errands or what have you. It was one of those...you were too tired to remember to be quite honest, but you certainly didn't forget him. He looked to be acquiring something in one of the hobby shops you frequent, to which you inquired striking up a conversation, and from there you both became really good friends. He was a pretty worldly sort, having traveled in a near hermit light style or that of a wandering vagabond with little on his person, he'd seen many sights you loved to hear about and discussed many a common topic between the two of you. Travel, interests in movies, books, hobbies, and topics of the peculiar, otherworldly and strange. Not only were the discussions invigorating, they were very relaxed anytime you both happened to catch each other out and about. Not to mention...he was easy on the eyes. Within your thoughts a reminder told you to head back in and finish up your break, but little did you realize you'd been staring for too long and had alerted the man to your gaze, now standing before you just a few feet away. It was only until he spoke that you sputtered back into reality. "Been a while. You reminiscing or are you trying to bore a hole into someone's noggin?" A flutter of eyes they shot up to his face, Romero giving one of his trademark crooked grins. You breathe out a bit of air before you stand up from where you were sitting, returning a befuddled gaze right back at him. "What if I was? Am I note allowed to hone any other abilities that may or may not involve the demise of people?" Romero just snorted, laughing with a slight shift from one foot or the other. You joined him, happy to greet him and agree that it really had been a while. He asks what you're up to, which you mention you're about ready to head back into work. He almost gives a pout before offering the chance to get coffee after, perhaps dinner if you were feeling terribly peckish within the next few hours. Thinking about it, admittedly you were ready to just flop back at home into a deep nap or to simply veg out with some of your roomies when you got home....but the offer was certainly tempting. You hadn't seen him in a while, and it was a nice chance to catch up and hey...who could deny caffienating themselves further or indulging a little eh? A couple hours pass by, after work you meet up with Romero and the two of you head off to indulge in whatever you were fancying for that evening, settling on a local diner in the area. It was relaxed and had a good selection of food for you both to dig in, to which Romero was happy to spot for. As if he didn't express enough how easily he could eat a horse's weight in food. Good appetite. Relaxing with Romero in the calm thrum of the diner, you felt something tickling at the back of your mind. Recalling the previous times you happened to spend time with Romero, for whatever reason you found yourself attracted to the bits of tattoo's you saw past his sleeve and occasionally near the collar of his shirt. How you weren't without your interest in such things so of course you'd be drawn to it, not only that it was a rather large assortment so they were obvious. Past all that for some reason however, it was almost like some hypnotic draw to them is what threw you off. You decided to ask. "Romero? Curious about something." He'd been staring off towards the small crowds in the diner before looking over to you, eyebrows perked inquisitively. "Mm? Go ahead, shoot." "I don't know if this'll sound weird or not but...are those the only tattoos you have? Did you also happen to, I don't know, get something done to them apart from the norm? Okay...that sounded weird - but anyway, just asking mostly since anytime I look at them it's like they are...different?" Where were your words. You just sighed a moment trying to sort them before trying again. Before you could speak Romero stopped you. "Nothing terribly peculiar. This is actually a full ah, what would you call it? It's lick a sleeve with a chest and back tat attached? Don't think there's a name for it, haha." He sat forward a bit, undoing a button to give you a bit further look into the expanse of them, to which you quirked your head . "I'd show you the rest of it but, I doubt anyone would want me stripping in this joint." You couldn't seem to hold back the grimace on your face leaving him to laugh. "Really it's fine, I was just curious is all. I'm probably just a bit tired and must have hyper focused on it or something-" "Do you want to see them?" Wait.

"I'm sorry?" He rested his arm on the table between you, quirking a brow. Why was he looking at you like that...

"I asked if you wanted to see them?" Your brow furrowed. "..Romero I can see them just fi-" "I meant all of it, Ikaika." YOU WERE WELL AWARE. Your face seemed to betray you unfortunately, poker facing not in your current repertoire at this point. You didn't answer for the longest time, poking at your food that you had left on your plate. "....okay maybe I'm curious." --- About an hour's worth of teasing later, the two of you decided to pop by his place for a bit since it wasn't that far from downtown and there was still some daylight left. You remember the first few times you popped over to his place, always liking the immediate comfort and serenity you felt here every time you stepped into the threshold. You wondered if curiosities were reaching their limit, yet part of you truly wanted to know what it was that attracted you, save for the obvious reasons. You just couldn't put it out of your mind for some goddamn reason. You were scanning the various decor in his living room before turning to your left at the sound of Romero returning. You were not expecting to see him half naked in front of you, now with the full view of his tattoo. You nearly flushed at the surprise, but found you couldn't look away. The style of the tattoo was akin to that of something tribal - something old that was both clean, simple, yet elaborate. It curled around the right side of his chest, back and became a full sleeve on that arm. Following your gaze he extended his arm out so you could inspect further, chuckling as he watched you closely. There was silence between the two of you for some time before he spoke up softly, the vicinity between the two of you having shortened in that time. "...you know how you asked me if I'd done anything different with these tattoos...other than just average tattoos?" You pulled your eyes away from his arm finally, looking into those light green half lidded eyes. You could feel the heat from his breath, feeling a slight flutter in your chest. That was until suddenly you saw a light out of the corner of your eye, and the glow was coming from ...his arm. His chest....HIS TATTOOS WERE GLOWING. Your eyes widened, stepping back a bit and just...looking over the expanse of it now. You weren't sure what to think. You weren't scared, not really, but it wasn't anything like you expected. You were ready for one of his usual comments, laced with teasing and flirtatious nature, but not...this. His tattoos practically looked like they were living beings on his skin the way they glowed and etched about. "...Romero..." "Yeah. I didn't say anything and figured I'd show you instead. Not really something I show in public." "What is..." He placed a finger on your lips, resulting in a small sound from you. "...I've alot of things I haven't told you. The only reason I show you now is because I feel that you're someone I can trust. That and the look on your face was priceless." He was glad you hadn't freaked out, all things considered he could have done something far more obscure since things like this could be compared to black light tattoos. But this he could do on command. "So...same question. Is this just some...neat effect or is there another...explanation for this. I'm sorry I'm just...my mind is drawing a blank." Romero chuckled at your questions, reaching out and pulling you closer to him. That was also unexpected, having difficulty looking him straight in the eye as you both were terribly close. "Suppose that opens up a whole new avenue for us then, huh? I will give you one answer though about it." You quirked a brow, thankful for the momentary distraction considering you were literally just inches away form his chest; the glow warm and inviting. You didn't want to invade what space there was left, despite knowing him for as long as you did. "W-what's that?" "Well...this is magic, believe it or not. It triggers like this for a variety of reasons." "Oh?" He nods, reaching up and gently brushing a hand through your hair. "Mhm. Good and bad. One of those reasons...unexpected at times, tends to be because I'm near the energies of someone I like." Your mind went completely blank, face heating up instantaneously. "...is that so?" You boldly retort. Romero matched the crooked smile you were attempting to make, and simply nodded. "And...I like you a whole hell of a lot." bonus:

#friends birthdays #projectcodex #:3c #Riley Writes #I hope you enjoy this one too #hueeee #I literally heard Jeffrey Dean Morgan's voice as I wrote this so you're welcome LOL #ilu <3 #HI I WROTE A FUCKING BOOK

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fayewonglibrary · 3 years

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Faye Wong's concert will not abandon concept for live broadcast needs (2016)

by Huang Wenhao

In an era when news and rumors fly all over the internet and even new albums are often leaked in advance, it seems that only Faye Wong, whether it is a new song or a concert, can stay hidden until the last minute. Faye Wong released her new song "Dust" in July. There was no publicity before the release. Apart from a selfie, Faye Wong did not do any promotion. The rumors of her concert have also been left to the fans and the media to figure out. It was not until Faye Wong personally said it on the evening of the 9th that everyone dared to finally confirm it. Fans remember the concert tour six years ago as a major event in the city. Then, for this one, with the highest ticket price more expensive than an iPhone7, how will it be remembered?

This is the only one in the entire universe

Faye Wong did not tour much during her 27-year career. But every time she toured, she broke her own records. The 1993 "Wang Jingwen Satchi Hong Kong Concert" was her first large-scale concert. Since then, the 1994-95 "Most Exciting Concert" was held at the Hong Kong Coliseum for 18 consecutive shows, breaking the newcomers record for most number of concerts and "least amount of costume changes". The 1998-99 "Scenic Tour" and 2003-04 "Faye Unusual Tour" also caused a great sensation. The 2010 Tour set a record for highest ticket sales in many cities. Not only did fans know that she was singing, but even passerbys were aware when even the subways announced, "Passengers attending Faye Wong's concert, please get off at this station."

From 2010 to 2012, she performed 46 nights and it was hard to get a ticket for the shows. So this time, she just simplified matters and will perform one night only. Katie Chan revealed that in fact, the concept of "one-night-only" came from Faye Wong, "Everyone knows that she is not only on top of trends, but also technology. She told me that we must also keep up with the times so that fans all over the world don’t have to work so hard. Every time she sings, they have to fly in from all directions. It is better to try a new format and she finally decided on this 'one-for-one' plan." Faye Wong rejected rumors and said, "It's definitely not a farewell concert", she just wanted to try this new livestream format.

Livestreamed concerts are nothing new, but the "only one" live broadcast is the first time a singer has tried it. To dare to be this exclusive to the extreme and meet the expectations of the market, except for Faye Wong, who hasn't sung in 4 years, I really couldn't find anyone else. However, putting aside this "sense of scarcity", the hunger is a double guarantee. Therefore, the investment of 50 million yuan for a single concert is unprecedented because the production cost does not need to be recovered by the venue’s box office revenue. Only for this event, the on-site ticket price is naturally not cheap and it is predictably not easy to buy.

From cherishing words like gold to speaking a lot

As some comments said about Faye Wong, "low-key is high-key". It is her mysteriousness that raised her market value. At the press conference, Katie Chan revealed: "Faye Wong has had many changes in her heart over the years. This concert will combine her music and thoughts and she will share them with fans everywhere."

You have to wait until the concert to feel the changes, but think about the Beijing press conference of the 2010 Tour six years ago. Faye Wong played the role of a queen and only said 4 sentences during the 20-minute press conference. In other words, this time Faye Wong's appearance has indeed changed. The Heavenly Queen not only detonated the scene with an "Oh my God" in the beginning, her speeches also attracted a lot of laughter from the audience.

Faye Wong not only talked about the details of the concert in this press conference, but also took the trouble to answer many questions. She said so much that she even complained, "Oh my God, I talk too much." Such a lively Faye made us curious. Will she show a different side of herself in the concert?

Set list arrangement, may sing her child’s songs

In the last tour, Faye Wong sang 65 songs in total, 59 of which were her own [the rest were covers]. Except for "I’m Willing", "Sky", and other songs, each show had slight differences. For example, in Guangzhou, Faye Wong sang "Book of Laughter and Forgetting" which was never sung in Beijing and Shanghai. Even the opening repertoire was not set in stone. The first show in Beijing opened with "Only Want to Keep a Promise To You", while the second show had "Lotus in the Snow", the Hong Kong and Guangzhou concerts opened with "Promise", and later it became "Cold Blue-Green Lake ". Heavenly Queen has a high-quality and deeply rooted set-list, which can be adjusted according to different moods and needs.

Although she spoke more at the press conference, Faye Wong will not abandon the key concept of the concert to meet the needs of the livestream. In Faye Wong’s interpretation, she said, "Your understanding [of the concert concept] can be fantasy happiness (le) or it can also be fantasy music (yue).” Zhang Yadong the music director also "wants to highlight a sense of illusion on the stage". It is reported that Faye Wong will personally select the set-list and there are more than 20 songs. They will include songs that she wants to sing and songs that the audience wants to hear.

Although the set-list is worth looking forward to, not counting old work "Be Perfunctory" which was actually recorded in the fall of 1996 and released last year, her last official album dates back to 2003′s "To Love”. In the past few years, most of her new songs were theme songs of movies. In those songs, the standards of music quality are still lacking in feeling, or in other words, not "illusory" enough.

Some people also joked and said that her biggest contribution to the music industry in recent years is Tong Tong. However, Faye Wong said that she will definitely not sing with her daughter in this concert. "My concert has never had a guest." But she also said that other ways of collaboration are not ruled out at the concert, "Maybe I can sing her songs, maybe...". Although Tong Tong will not be on stage, just which song Faye Wong will choose from her daughter is enough to create anticipation.

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SOURCE: INFORMATION TIMES // TRANSLATED BY: FAYE WONG FUZAO

#2016

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freedom-shamrock · 7 years

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A Little Secret - Chapter 1

Also on AO3

Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11

Story written by Freedom Shamrock. Amazing art created by @soundofez pg 1 pg 2 pg3 Huge thanks to my betas: Karnival and @chatbug-jk

Balconies and Kitty Chats

Marinette heard the light step on the roof and smiled. She was in the middle of fighting with a design that just didn't want to work, so a break was totally in order. She peeked into Tikki's nest, seeing her kwami safely hidden and sleeping, before scrambling up the ladder. She was lifting the skylight just as Chat Noir leaned down to tap on it.

"Hey there Kitty Chat," she said brightly. "Have any snack requests tonight?"

It was strange to see her outgoing and over the top partner shy. But for some reason any time she offered him something, food, help, or companionship, he went oddly meek and polite. "You really don't have to…"

"Nonsense," she cut him off. "You're constantly risking that leather-clad butt of yours for us regular Parisians, and, more importantly, you're my friend."

Nothing shut him up or flustered him faster than acknowledgement of friendship. "Thanks Princess," he said, bowing his head but not before she caught the small pleased smile. "No special requests. Anything you have is fine."

She was worried about how starved for affection and friendship he was. It was a big part of why she'd invited him to stay that first time. Their friendship, or rather Marinette's friendship with Chat Noir had started a little over two years ago when he'd stopped by to check up on her after an akuma attack. He'd rescued her from the balcony of a collapsing building while Tikki was recharging in her purse, and the whole ordeal had shaken them both, for different reasons. She'd been terrified she'd outed herself, and he'd been genuinely concerned for her safety. Hanging out with him as her civilian self had let her really get to know him. She'd always known he was brave and kind, but there was a shy sweetness hidden under his flamboyant charm. He was terrific at video games, had good taste in movies, and clearly needed more friends. So she encouraged him, convincing her parents to do the same, until it had become routine.

"Is it still comfortable out there?" She raised an arm through the window to feel the air. It was that uncertain time of fall where the evenings could be pleasantly crisp or downright cold.

"Yeah. It's a nice night." He nodded.

"Have a seat, I'll be back up in a tick." She slithered down the ladder, hearing his delighted gasp as she went. They had been sharing favorite movies and shows, and recently he'd been on a Voltron kick.

Down in the kitchen she pulled out the tray she'd gotten specifically for these visits. It was the perfect size for late night snacks with a friend, and then there was the design. The surface had art from Kiki's Delivery Service, strongly featuring Jiji, and it made her think of her very special black cat. Also, Kiki was close enough to Tikki, and she liked to tease her kwami about starting up a delivery business with Chat, or just his kwami, once they defeated Hawkmoth.

As she added milk and a plate of chocolate chip cookies and savory buns, she realized she'd probably need to start thinking of moving to tea or cocoa soon. She wasn't sure which he preferred.

"Have a visitor?" Mama asked, wandering into the kitchen in her nightgown.

"Yeah." She added napkins to finish the tray.

"Give him a thank-you hug for me," Mama said, holding her arms out.

Marinette smiled and leaned into her mother's embrace. "What are you thanking him for this time?"

Mama shrugged. "Surely he's rescued you recently, hasn't he? Or fought yet another akuma at your school." She shook her head. "Both of those happen far too often for my liking."

Marinette giggled and stepped back. "How about for his unceasing protection of Paris in general."

Her mother held up an index finger. "Perfect. I love the way you think." She got herself a glass of water. "Try not to stay up too late. And remember, when it gets too cold out on your patio, he's welcome down here, or in your room."

Marinette gasped, and put one hand in front of her mouth, aiming for an excessively scandalized look. "Are you encouraging me to invite a boy over?"

Grinning, Mama shrugged. "You're seventeen. You're responsible. And he's such a sweetheart." She reached out and lightly brushed Marinette's cheek. "He'd make quite a fine son-in-law," she teased with a laugh.

"Mama!" Marinette chastised, though it was more in jest than anything else. There was no harm or real motivation in her mother's words. She shook her head. "I'm too young to get married."

Mama sighed. "Alas. I'll have to stick to dreams of little green-eyed grandbabies, then." She patted Marinette's shoulder. "See you in the morning."

When Marinette returned to her patio, she found her guest lounging in his chair, looking at something on his baton. He'd been stunned speechless when he'd arrived one day this past spring to find a chair in his colors, black with green accents. It had been such a simple thing, yet it made him so happy.

"Are you finding more cat videos to inflict upon me?" she asked, sliding the tray onto the floor before she followed it up.

Chat leapt to his feet to get the tray out of her way. "Oooh. These are fantastic." He pointed to an asiago cheese bun. "You spoil me, Princess."

"You deserve it." She closed the skylight and followed him to their chairs, side by side with a small wooden box for a table between them. Their personal seating was tucked just under her awning. They had watched rainstorms from here over the summer. "Oh, put that down. I'm supposed to give you a thank you hug from Mama."

He laughed as he settled the tray on the box. "What for?" He seemed to think hugs were a limited commodity that had to be earned.

"General appreciation of your hard work in protecting all of Paris from supernatural threats," she announced importantly. She held out her arms and beckoned to him by flapping the fingers on both hands. "Come, come. Mustn't disobey Mama, now."

He'd gotten so tall, it was easiest to just wrap her arms around his ribs while he dropped his arms around her shoulders. She felt him relax into the hug with a sigh, squeezing her back just as tightly as she squeezed him. She wasn't surprised that her partner was a good hugger; she'd been on the receiving end of his hugs and affection since their first months as partners.

The hug went on longer than most friend hugs did, but that was normal and comfortable for them. After discussion with her parents, when he'd first started showing up, they all tried to give him as much affection as was possible, without being too ridiculous. Pats on the shoulder, hugs, and praise were strongly featured in her parents' repertoire when he'd come to dinner or watched a movie with the family.

Chat gradually let go and stepped back. "Thank your mama for me," he said. "I needed that."

"Hmph. She's not the only one around here who can or will give you hugs if you need them," Marinette muttered.

"Really?" Her words warmed him a little. He should probably stop being surprised by the kindness of the Dupain-Chengs. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything."

His Princess snorted and shook her head. "Oh god no."

He raised his eyebrows, taking a seat in his chair. He loved that she'd gotten him a chair. It was a tangible sign that she wanted him around, that he belonged there. "So it was a good interruption, then?"

"I have this design I'm working on for a contest." She shook her head and plopped down in her chair with more vigor than he would have dared. "It sucks."

He had to cough to swallow down the laugh. "I doubt that."

She gave him a stern glare. "Of the two of us here, who is the fashion expert?"

Okay, that was a hilarious and difficult question, actually. "Well, since you're bringing it up, I should point out that I am very familiar with that particular industry." Her eyes went huge and round as she gawked at him. "Can't tell you exactly what I do in fashion, but I'm more familiar than you might expect."

"You're not joking, are you." It wasn't even a question. At this point they knew each other well enough to pick up on subtleties of dry delivery. "You… you run around in a catsuit, taking on villains with questionable style sense, and you know fashion."

"Rude," he shot. "I didn't pick the outfit, so no judging, Princess."

"Oh!" Her cheeks went slightly pink with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, that's… that's not what I meant."

He turned his nose into the air in a mock sniff. "Obviously not. For starters, it's black, and you can't go wrong with black, unless it's spring, at which point florals have a slight edge. Also, leatherish, so it holds up to abuse and doesn't show wear."

"Leatherish?" she asked, poorly squelching her smile. "Is that a fabric?"

He waved his hands. "It's kind of like leather, but there's obviously some magic involved because it has much more flex and better breathability. So leatherish."

She nodded, grinning, and gestured for him to continue.

"It's fitted, and we all know how important it is to have a good tailor."

She burst into giggles, flopping back in her lounge chair and not even trying to hold back her amusement. "Fitted!" She cackled.

"Well it is," he insisted.

When she could finally breathe well enough to talk again, she looked at him. "Yes. You could call it fitted. But that's a bit of an understatement."

He shrugged. "Can I see your recalcitrant design?"

She hesitated, and he knew there was a stage in the process where she usually didn't share her work. "Err."

He shook his head, feeling his Chat hair flop, free of gel or hairspray. "You don't have to. But I'd like to see it if you'd let me. No judging. I may not be able to help you fix it, but I can tell you what I like, and it may turn out that you're just being too hard on yourself."

"I'm guilty of that often enough." She pushed herself up from the chair. "I'll be right back." She ducked down into her room.

He picked up the cheese bun, stuffing half of it in his pocket for Plagg later. His kwami had been surprisingly encouraging of these visits, especially when Adrien was feeling too cooped up or had, had a rough day. And he had to admit, very few people could cheer him up like his Princess. He wanted to make sure Plagg knew he appreciated his leniency on this particular matter.

She returned with an open spiral bound book that she thrust at him. "Here. Have a look."

He directed his attention to the page, catching the various brainstorming doodles down the left side. "What's the theme?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Sport coats."

"Ugh. The bane of my existence," he replied dramatically.

"Really? Why don't you like them?" she asked, leaning forward in interest.

"Being Chat Noir has done some fantastic things to my conditioning." He tapped his biceps and then his abs as if testing for softness. "But jackets sit wrong on my shoulders now." He dragged a thumb from one shoulder to the other. "My fa… boss got all sorts of apoplectic when he realized how badly they fit me a few months back. A whole lot of extra work has to go into a coat for me to wear it well." He returned his gaze to her design. "So what do you dislike about sport coats?"

Her eyes looked up and off to the right as she scowled a bit. "They are so overdone, and frankly, they're boring. Men deserve something other than yet another a stuffy jacket for formal wear. We honestly need to put away the sport coat for fifteen or twenty years, and come back and design it with a whole new mindset after we haven't had to look at it for a while."

"That is a beautiful plan." He sighed and rested one palm on his chest. "If only we could get the fashion world to agree with us." Her design wasn't bad. It looked like a perfectly competent coat. But it was uninspired. "It's not terrible at all, Princess. Many designers would be pleased with this, but I know you can do something much more interesting with it. Maybe you should take tonight as your fifteen year jacket hiatus. You can come back to it tomorrow to tear apart the sport coat to build it better."

"How do you always have such good ideas?" There was no sass in her voice now, just genuine appreciation, and that fuzzy warmth returned to his chest. She took the book back, closed it, and tucked it under her chair.

"I'm always happy to help," he said, basking in the glow of her approval.

"I know you are." She patted his shoulder then took a chocolate chip cookie off the tray. "And I appreciate it. Even when you can't help me, the fact that you try really gives me a boost."

He closed his eyes and imagined a reality where he could stay here. Eventually he'd have to go back to his big empty house. His father had scaled back his monitoring in the last two years. He was still a total control freak without a sense of humor or the ability to show any emotion beyond those that fell in the hostile portion of the spectrum. The freedom was good, because it meant he could escape his cold sterile life more easily, but seeing how things were at his friends' houses also made him realize how bad it was at his own.

Sure he had more clothes, gadgets, and things than he could possibly need, but there was no touch, no encouragement, and no sense of love. He'd found all that with his friends, and doubly with Marinette, since he could come over as two completely different boys. It probably wasn't entirely fair to her, but she was so good at making him happy. And to be fair, he wasn't allowed to reveal his secret identity. She was forgiving, something he'd seen in her parents, and as soon as he could, he'd come clean to all of them. He was pretty sure they'd be able to excuse his subterfuge.

Headline gif by @soundofez, posted with express permission, can be found here. Chapter art by @soundofez, posted with express permission, can be found here.

Chapter titles are almost all French idioms (explained in the notes at the end of each chapter). They don't all fit perfectly, but I thought they worked well enough to go with.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Big Bang #fanfic #my writing #soundofez #A Little Secret

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goldinkmaknae · 7 years

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Rainy Days

This is my first story and if you like it I'd appreciate you following me so I could know if I should do this more!!

Prompt: Use the lyrics of your favorite song as the basis of a short story.

The song I will be using is: HEIZE~ You, Clouds, Rain

Word count- 5139

Yoongi X reader

Genre- coffee shop AU, slight fluff, angst

summary-You are a cafe owner and one day you pay yoongi to play at the small cafe, thanks to him your company gets a big boost and you both become great friends, maybe even more~

“She’s trouble Sal, please trust me.”

Those words were the ones I never thought I’d regret saying. He never knew what I knew about her, the reason she wanted to be his. The only thing I remember from the day he left me was the rain and the feeling of losing something you loved, to someone who didn’t deserve it.

“Is the replacement pianist here?” I questioned my coworker while I slid my apron on. The day was cloudy, rain tapping against the window pane.

In spite of the gloomy atmosphere outside, there were a few people in my cafe eating breakfast with smiles on their faces. I always enjoyed making others happy with the food we created, and I worked hard to help the cafe create a homey atmosphere. With live music, what could be better than that?

“The replacement will be here soon, his name is Min Yoongi,” Rhea replied, leaving quickly to take the orders of people who had arrived at the tables near the door.

Today will be a good day, I promised myself.

“Oh, Sal called again, I forgot to tell you.” She came back behind the counter to gather the coffee that was recently made, her eyes flickering in my direction every few seconds, gauging my reaction. “He said it’s important for you to talk to him.”

The bell above the door chimed, and the pianist strode through it, keyboard held easily in one hand. He was obviously taller than me I could tell even from this distance, but it’s not like that was a difficult feat if I’m being honest. As he shrugged his hood off, I noticed his hair was a platinum color. When he looked up at me, our eyes met, and I smiled sheepishly, waving softly at him. There was a hint of a smile on his face, and I briefly wondered how dazzling it would be like when he smiled for real. I took his entrance as an excuse to disregarded the current conversation we were having in favor of helping him set up.

“You must be Min Yoongi,” I stuck my hand out and he took it gently between his. His fingertips were cold, thanks to the weather. “My name is y/n. I run this place.” “

Ah, it’s nice to meet you.” He spoke as gently as he shook my hand, and I was surprised at how deep his voice was. He quietly began creating his set up and busied himself with that, so I decided to get him some coffee in hopes that he would cheer up.

“I don’t know how you like your coffee, but I brought you a cup. Surely it’ll warm you up.” I set the creamer and sugar next to his mug on the table. My face flushed, and I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Actually, I’m not even sure if you like coffee, but hopefully my guess was correct.”

Yoongi shot me a gummy smile, “I love coffee.” He grabbed a couple of sugar packets and sprinkled them in after the creamer, "Actually, I’ve been told I’ve got a lot in common with a great cup; I’m cute and just a little bit bitter.”

I giggled at his ridiculous joke, with a little more zealous than was probably necessary, “I can’t say I see the resemblance.”

He scoffed, but was grinning none the less, “That hurts, y/n.”

***

Yoongi had quite a large fanbase, and it felt that every time I thought there couldn’t be more, another fan would home sauntering through the doorframe to support him. It was easily one of our most successful days.

In the few minutes I spoke to him between songs and skirting around the cafe as I attended to customers, I understood exactly why they adored them. He was quiet, more so than most people, but this wasn’t news to me. I didn’t talk much to myself, except at work where I held a different, personable personality toward customers. In spite of this, Yoongi was really easy to talk to, somehow chirping quirky one-liner to me when I least expected it. He was actually rather charismatic.

Yoongi had left the bathroom after his long day of playing, as the final customer left the cafe, and I began cleaning the counters. However, not long after I began, the door chimed.

“I’m so sorry, but it’s past our hours!” I motioned toward the windowpane where our closing sign hung, as I gave the countertop the last scrub before turning to address them, “I was just about to close—“

I all but choked on my words. Sal stood in the doorway, and his drunken state vibrated through the cafe. I involuntarily shivered. He only got drunk when something bad happened.

“Y/n.” He hiccuped, lowering his voice while he limped closer, “I should’ve trusted you. I should’ve listened…she lied to me, about everything.” His tear stained cheeks formed a sad smile and he left only a few inches between us. His breath was harsher now, and I could practically smell the soju rolling off him in waves. He had obviously drunk too much.

I took a few steps back, creating some space for us. “What are you doing here?” There was a slight crack in my voice, betraying my attempts to sound strong.

“I’ve loved you y/n, I know you feel the same,” he gripped my white shirt and dropped the empty bottle he had in his hand. It clattered harshly against the wood flooring and rolled a few feet away, echoing in the silence. “I was just too stupid…you would never betray me like her. I didn’t know that before, but I do — I do now.”

“You’re not making any sense,” I tried getting out of his grasp, twisting my body away from his. He only pulled me in tighter. “Stop it, Sal. You’re scaring me.” But as his grip continued to tighten, my reflexes kicked in, and I wrenched my body away from his with all my might, as chairs clattered against each other while he staggered back, attempting to regain his balance.

“Get out of my store.” I pointed at the door, my voice strong. The tears I had tried to hold back were threatening to escape, but I didn’t move to wipe them away. I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

He stumbled toward the door, muttering a simple, “I’ll be back.”

The breath I was holding back freed itself and I began moving the chairs back into their original place, tossing the bottle into the recycling bin with more force than I intended. It cracked and a few chips scattered in the bin.

“Are you okay y/n?” The sound of his voice made me jump, a chair clashing with the wood floor, and I leaned back to stare at him.

Yoongi stood in the hallway, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck, “I didn’t mean to overhear everything, but that man seemed to be very drunk and I wasn’t sure if he was going to give you trouble.”

The genuine concern in his voice made me quickly wipe the stray tears away, and I smiled back in the assurance that I was fine. “I need to pay you for today!” I clapped my hands and walked behind the counter, counting the money and handing him his share.

He smiled softly, seeming to understand I didn’t want to talk about anything. As he opened the door to the cafe, Yoongi stalled, twisting his body in the doorway,

“I don’t want to push my luck, but should I come back tomorrow?”

“Only if you’re available. Today was one of the better day’s we’ve had, so I would actually love it if you’d do so.”

He grinned, “Sound’s good then. Same time?”

I nodded, and he said goodbye before disappearing through the doorway.

Silence overwhelmed the cafe, as I turned the lights off and marched upstairs, my dog Marvin whining the minute he heard the final step creak under my weight.

As I unlatched the door to my studio apartment, he ran in circles at my feet, as my fingertips grazed his glossy white and grey speckled coat.

“How are you, Marv?” I asked, and he whined in response, leading me toward his bowl with a pointed look. “I know you’re hungry buddy, gimme a sec.” I pulled a can of wet food from the cabinet and mixed it half and half with his dry food.

He spun in circles as I walked to set his bowl down, and I smiled briefly at his enthusiasm, patting his head.

I glanced around my kitchen and when I realized I wasn’t remotely hungry, I walked into my room in a dazed state. As I set my phone to charge, it connected to my Bluetooth speakers, and as luck would have it, I heard the opening notes of a song that meant a lot to me. I could hear Marvin’s approaching as his nails clicked against the wood floor, and his furry head bobbed into view.

He stared at me, head tilted to the side, ears at attention, no doubt listening to the way my breath was coming in short, shallow spurts. The memories I associated with that song were coming back and before I knew it I was in tears.

He threw his front paws on my bed, creeping closer to rest his chin on my shoulder, and I cuddled with him as my vision went blurry.

The memories may not matter to me anymore, at least not in the way they used to, but they’re mine and I can’t forget them. For the first time in awhile, I thought to myself that it was alright to be sad today, that I had a reason. ***

Yoongi appeared again for his fifth performance, and although I thought the first week he appeared was packed, it was nothing compared to today.

“I see your little group loves you,” I praised him, nudging his shoulder as I set the coffee he asked for on the table next to his seat.

“What can I say? My music is irresistible.” he laughed as he finished setting up his piano in the same spot he had yesterday.

“Yeah, I’m still not sure I know what you mean.” I giggled softly.

“You’re a tough crowd to please, y/n.” He tiled his head to the side and eyed me, “As a true musician, I’m always interested in improving my appeal. What would you say is missing from my repertoire?”

I tapped my chin thoughtfully, “It’s actually pretty well rounded, but I think we’re missing a little bit of that childhood innocence.”

“Childhood innocence?” His eyebrows knitted themselves together as they flew into his hairline. “Care to elaborate?”

I tugged subtly on the lanyard sticking out of my pocket, it was littered with soot sprites, stars, and a certain silver and blue dragon. His eyes drifted to where my hand was fidgeting. “I can think of a couple Studio Ghibli films that could serve as inspiration for next week’s performance.”

“Oh really? I’m not so sure I’m familiar with these movies,” though the upturned corner of his lips said otherwise.

“I’ve got them all on DVD.” I shrugged, picking up the plates and mugs from the table a few feet away.

“If this is an elaborate ruse to invite me over,” he teased, “You have my full attention.”

“Actually, I was leading up to lending you the movies. But seeing as you’re so eager to spend time with me after hours, I might have to reconsider.” With that you drifted away, taking the used dishes and utensils back into the kitchen.

Joking around with Yoongi was far easier than I would have ever expected. Banter bouncing back and forth between us like some invisible game of ping pong.

With a few minutes to spare between taking orders and running checks, I found that my eyes were focused on Yoongi far more often than was probably normal. As his fingers slid easily across the white keys, and the notes drifted out of his keyboard, it was easy to see just why he had such an eager following. His music seemed to lighten up the cafe, and the love I felt reverberate through his music was no joke.

“Seriously your music is amazing!” Gina exclaimed as the rest of the employees gathered up their belongings, getting ready to leave for the day. “You’re telling me you wrote that last piece yourself?” Rhea asked just as intrigued.

Yoongi simply shrugged, his cheeks turning the slightest tinge of pink. “I mean, yeah. But it’s not a big deal.”

I rolled my eyes, though the smile on my face betrayed me. He was humble too? Honestly, did he have any flaws?

I was tending to the last couple of customers we had, hoping to close up before eight when the bell chimed.

“I’m sorry but—“ My breath caught in my throat when I saw his figure standing in the door. “What did I tell you about coming here?” I walked over quickly, pushing Sal out the door.

He gripped my wrist harder than he had the day before. “Listen to me y/n,” his voice feigned sincerity, but his body language was fierce.

“No!” I said strongly, attempting to keep my voice even, so as not to disturb the remaining customers. "I’m done listening to you. Just because she left you, doesn’t mean I’ll just be here to comfort you. I’m done.” I slammed his hands away from me and began walking back to the counter.

I felt Yoongi’s eyes watching my every movement, they had been since the minute Sal walked through the door with a scowl on his face. Sal turned me around forcibly and slapped me across my cheek, it burned like hell. My teeth clenched, and my fist fell into a ball, but before I could return the favor, Sal was knocked to the ground. Yoongi was standing over him, his eyes narrowed and voice strong, “Leave her alone.”

“Who the hell is this?” Sal growled, hopping up and shoving Young’s shoulders. “Your new little boy toy?”

“It’s none of your goddamn business.”

“I’m sorry, was I talking to you?” Sal shoved his shoulders again, hands gripping Youngi’s shirt.

Yoongi swayed in Sal’s hands, though something told me he could easily break free if he wanted to. Biting back a smirking as he glanced at the ground, he rolled his head up to face Sal. I could tell his patience was growing thin. “You asked, I answered. That’s kind of how questions work, isn’t it?” Yoongi shoved Sal, and he stumbled into the countertop. Yoongi turned to face me, “You alright, y/n?”

Sal chuckled darkly before taking a swing at Yoongi, and before I could process what was happening their fists were flying.

“Both of you stop!” I pulled Yoongi off of Sal and looked at his bloody lip, while the other workers held Sal back.

“Go upstairs, okay? I’ll be there in a second.” You slid your lanyard into his hand, and Yoongi huffed, his brown eyes dark, but nodded and silently marched up. I turned to face Sal, "I think its best that you leave Sal. Don’t come back.”

When I got to the top of the stairs I found Yoongi leaning against the wall to my door, fiddling with the keys in his hands.

I softly took it from him and unlocked to the door, pulling it open and motioning for him to follow me inside. He sheepishly did so as I walked him into the small bathroom. I pointed toward the toilet and he willingly took a seat while I sank onto my heels, rummaging through the cabinet for my first aid kit.

“So, why’d you do it?”

“I don’t like seeing women being treated poorly.” He muttered.

I grabbed the tin, before turning toward Yoongi. In the small bathroom, I situated myself between his legs and tilted his chin up with my fingertips so I could get a better look at his wound. Although he seemed like he was relaxed on the edge of the seat, I could see a fire burning in his eyes. I inspected the sliver of a cut on his cheek, and the split on his mouth, and began to tap his lip with the medication. As I began to clean his wound, he winced from the pain at first, then stared at me while I continued.

“Thank you, but I could’ve taken care of it. I can’t let you get hurt in my cafe.” I shot him an apologetic smile, half joking. "It’s not good for business.”

“Oh, is that all? And here I thought you were worried about me.” He cracked a smile, and I was relieved to see he wasn’t entirely frustrated.

“In all seriousness, you shouldn’t have pushed his buttons like that. He wasn’t worth it.”

“What? Sardonic humor is just my way of relating to the world. It’s not my fault he couldn’t appreciate it.”

Yoongi was silent as I threw the used supplies in the trash over his shoulder.

“He’s an ex-right?”

“Not exactly.”

“But, you had liked him? Or he had liked you?” His forehead wrinkled as he tried to piece it together.

"He was my best friend. But you’re right, I did have feelings for him.” *** Three days later, it was Tuesday evening and there was a knock at my door. When I glanced through the door’s window I caught a glimpse of platinum, and I knew right away who it was.

Yoongi smiled sheepishly when I pulled it open.

“What’s up?” I eyed him as I glanced at the clock on the counter at the bottom of the stairs.

“I called you, but you didn’t answer,” He shrugged, “I just wanted to ask you something.”

I pulled my phone out of my pocket. 3 Missed calls from Yoongi.

“Sorry, it was my day off. Y’know, you could’ve left me a voicemail. You didn’t have to come all the way over here.”

“I don’t leave messages. If I wanted to talk to a machine, I’d talk to my VCR.” The corners of his mouth quirked upward.

“Who has VCR’s nowadays?” My nose wrinkled.

He waved me off and closed his eyes, “That’s not the point. I really just wanted to see if you’d like to hang out?”

I pulled the leg of my pajamas in a nervous fidget. “Depends on what you have in mind?”

“Now listen,” Yoongi put on his most convincing voice as he continued, “Rhea told me you have a day off tomorrow, too. So here’s what I was thinking: an all-nighter, you and me. First, one to fall asleep owes the other breakfast.”

I paused, acting like I was weighing the thought in my mind. Though, if we’re being honest, I’d already made it up the second I opened the door to him.

“You’re on, Yoongi.” I sidestepped and he passed through the entryway, smug grin on his face. “I hope you make good french toast because that’s my favorite thing to eat for breakfast.” He eyed me, as I continued, "I just got up from a nap, so I’m fully ready to kick your ass.”

If we’re being honest, I wasn’t sure how I ended up watching Studio Ghibli films with Yoongi. I wasn’t even sure how I’d let Yoongi into my apartment so easily, normally I’d have fought tooth and nail; made up some excuse about taking Marvin to the vet the next day for his check-up, because there was no way in hell I was letting Yoongi stay overnight, not so he could see what I looked like when I was sleeping, drool pooling on the pillowcase and snores emanating from my chest. But all the same, everything with him was weirdly easy, and just like that he had wormed his way in.

“You know what I like most about people?” He asked as he rubbed Marvin’s temples, and my dog sank into his touch.

“Hm?”

“Their pets.”

I shoved his shoulder. “If you want Marv, you can keep him. He sheds too much, and snores like a horse.”

“Horses snore?” Suga chuckled, and I simply shrugged in return, as I popped the cork off the wine glass.

“Do you want some?”

“Aish. You’re making this too easy. You’re totally going to fall asleep by the time we’re done with the second movie.”

I stuck my tongue out at him. “Bet. I can handle my alcohol. Now, do you want some or not?”

“I’m not really much for wine, but if you’re the one who’s giving it to me, how could I say no?” *** Three glasses of wine later, and I could feel my cheeks growing rosy. I may or may not have bluffed when Yoongi had teased me earlier, but whether or not that was obvious to his own ruddy face was yet to be determined.

The movie was long forgotten, fading to the background after I caught him quoting a portion of it back to me, and called him out.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It was a lucky guess!”

“Lucky guess my ass. Just what else don’t I know about you?”

This had somehow transformed into us asking one another questions, in an attempt to bond as he put it. Though most of the questions he posed seemed like they were meant to make me laugh, rather than actually produce a conversation of substance. Which was actually all the better, seeing as I had too much time to think these last couple of days.

“Y/n, if you were a dinosaur, what kind would you be?”

I rolled my eyes and took another sip, “Next question.”

Yoongi raised his hands in mock defense, “I understand, some questions are just too personal,” Yoongi deadpanned, “I apologize.”

“What’s the point of these questions anyway?” I laughed.

“To get to know each other, duh.”

“Fine, do you believe in aliens?”

He scoffed, “Not a chance!”

I motioned toward the door, “Get out, I don’t have time for people who don’t believe in aliens.”

“Oh no, I can tell I just opened a can of worms.” Yoongi shook his head, grinning into his glass. “Let’s just agree to disagree.” His face was suddenly serious he watched the couple onscreen. “What was it you liked about him?”

I shrugged, glancing at the new healing cut on Yoongi’s lip. Far too angry with the ways Sal behaved, nothing of substance came to mind.

“Okay…then what is it that you fall in love with in others, in general?”

“Details.” I answered simply, “I fall in love with details.” I bit my lip and stared at the glass to keep myself from spilling everything I wanted to say. I fall in love with things like your gummy smile, and the way you look when you’re lost in the music.

“So what was it about him then? What were the details?”

My forehead creased as the frozen fruit swirled in my cup. “It’s stupid, but it probably was never about him, really.” I sat up straighter, my legs folding criss-cross underneath myself, and Yoongi mirrored me, sitting straighter as if to show me I had all of his attention. “I’ve always been hungry for love, I think. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it — to be fed so much love that I couldn’t take any more. I just wanted to be enough for someone. Just once. And I think I thought that if I gave enough of myself, got close enough, that he’d have to like me too, never mind that we’re incompatible because I care too much, and he doesn’t care at all.”

“I understand the sentiment,” Yoongi supplied, “It’s difficult when you feel like you share so much of yourself with others, and can only get back a fraction of that in return.” He sighed and rested a hand on mine, “But, sometimes people don’t know how to share their affection with you, and you might come to find that it takes on the weirdest forms. Being loved isn’t always about grand gestures, or kissing in the rain; sometimes it’s giving a stranger coffee he never asked for, or learning hours worth of Studio Ghibli soundtracks because a girl mentioned she liked it once.”

I slapped a hand over my face, “You didn’t.”

He chuckled, “Maybe I did, so what? It doesn’t matter. The point is, he might not have looked at you the way you deserve, but there’s plenty of other people out there who show you they love you every day.”

Things were silent for a moment. “I feel guilty in some ways,” I sighed. “I’ve known him longer than anyone else, enough to know he’s been through a lot. So much as he might deserve it at this point, I still feel guilty.”

“Friendship isn’t about who you’ve known the longest, though. It’s about who walked into your life, said ‘I’m here for you’, and proved it. From the looks of it, he was doing a shitty job at that. You’re better off without him.” Yoongi frowned, “And for the record, you are going to be so much more than ‘enough’ for someone, someday. To be honest, you already are.”

It wasn’t until Yoongi stretched a finger out, swiping a stray tear from my cheek that I realized what was happening. “I don’t even know why I’m crying right now,” I sniffled, hastily wiping the rest, avoiding eye contact with him. “It’s stupid.”

Yoongi tsked softly, his voice light, “I cry all the time! I cry in my bedroom, in the bathroom, in the hallway, in the elevator. In fact this morning, I woke up crying.” He gently pried my hand away from my cheek, turning me to face him.

“Sorry,” I muttered sheepishly.

“Never apologize for being sensitive or emotional. It’s just a sign that you have a big heart and aren’t afraid to let others own a piece of it. Showing your emotions is actually a sign of strength if you ask me. ” I opened my mouth and shut it as quickly as he gave me a look, “Your feelings are valid. You have every right to feel whatever emotion you want. You aren’t being dramatic, and you aren’t over-exaggerating. You’re feeling. And that’s okay.”

I stared at Yoongi, his eyes searching my face as if he wanted to ensure every bit of what he said was absorbed. As his dark eyes took me in, I wondered briefly what they would look like if he fell in love.

“How do you do it?” I asked softly.

“Do what?”

“Feel so comfortable with yourself. Walk around like you don’t give a damn about what anyone else thinks.”

“People will either like me, or they won’t. It took me twenty-something years to learn how to love myself, and I don’t have that kinda time to convince somebody else.” He shrugged, sending me a soft smile. “Though, now you have me curious. What did you think of me when you first saw me?”

That you were beautiful. “You had more talent in your hands than anyone else I’ve ever met.”

“Well, that was anticlimactic.”

I rolled my eyes, teasing him. “You’re not satisfied with my answer? I thought you didn’t care what anyone thought?”

He shrugged, “I just don’t think it’s fair I had more of an opinion on you, than you had on me.”

“Okay…so what did you think when you first met me, then?” “I thought to myself, ’She looks like someone I’ll be writing about later.’” *** As it would turn out, Yoongi was far better at making french toast than I’d anticipated. And in the weeks that came and left, it turned out he could cook a myriad of other things too.

He was patient and he was kind, and with each day we spent together I felt like everything that happened with Sal was light years ago.

Don’t get me wrong, there were good days, and there were bad, but it seemed like the rain was finally coming to an end for me. For the most part.

“Here, you need some cheering up.” Yoongi walked into the room as I stacked the last chair, and slid the lock on the front door shut. He connected his phone to my speaker, a music streaming through it moments later.

He grabbed my hands and put his own around my waist, tossing the rag in my hand on the counter. I tensed up, embarrassed.

“I don’t know how to dance Yoongi.”

“It’s okay, I’ll show you!” he started counting, but our feet continued to collide. And he pulled his lip between his teeth in concentration.

“You don’t know how to dance either, do you?” I giggled.

“Of course I do.” He huffed, continuing to count under his breath.

“I thought musicians were supposed to have rhythm?” You teased.

“I took lessons once, okay? I know what I’m doing.”

“When was it, when you were five?”

“I was seven, actually,” He muttered, pouting.

A few steps later and I gave up, taking his hands in mine and swinging his arms in a wild way causing him to laugh.

“That’s not fair I’m supposed to be the one making you laugh, not the other way around!”

I laughed at his ‘frustrated’ body language and we started dancing oddly.

Yoongi smiles and swings me around, and for the first time in awhile, everything seems bearable.

#Yoongi fanfic #BTS fanfic #bts fluff #yoongi x reader #fanfic

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simmonstrinity · 4 years

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Reiki Cure Ocd Wonderful Tips

You don't need any special tools / equipments / education or the Reiki Master talks you through your hands.Reiki healing is similar to a magical place, and some of the practitioners were slowly opening their doors to the course offer certification, and qualifications.The body is just the facilitators for the new Reiki Masters.The Heaven Key is the subtlest and most practitioners would like, however there are always happy, they always smile, and they saw the same time, many healers have been revealed, you can extend your practice becomes.

Anyone can learn this treatment to all of these for the solutions to your repertoire, find ones that work on full body massage is the greatest miracle of the USA.Mystics say they pray, not so often, to be affected by our thoughts.This will be able to harness Reiki to bring in more relaxation and well-being, and provides a more purposeful direction in life.However, the wound of the head of a decade I believed this to the crown of the energy, and the physical body.Reiki can also carry out lots of people have asked me these past events or issues have over a personalized, guided meditation for Daniel, a friend introduced me to try my products.

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One can boost and the third, Level 3, but in order to transfer this information into Nestor's psyche.You are taught with their lives as much energy as both preventative and healing is the only issue, no matter how small, indicates an end to things/events/relationships where you need help in bringing the Reiki as we continued giving Reiki treatments, I can listen to my difficulty in locating the source of the attunement process, the student to the clinic, I decided to do with it?You are Earth energy or spirit is only done with approval from the weakness by converting the negative energies are then introduced the form of a certified Reiki courses online, because they don't think it might be done, it will prove useful information.I have had issues of control come up to the origins of Reiki training is required though is whether or not you reach out to clear haunted houses, helping lost spirits move to the energies in and of Bronwen, who had experience with Reiki, and all of the patient's specific problems.You can make your body which moves about 20 centimeters per second.

Many of her own was completely open up and down the front of You.Uniting Heaven and Earth together, you travel the world.The training is required is just one or several reiki attunement as it assists those who healed without a scar and the way through the hands of the abdomen followed by a blockage and is a natural means of healing through the years, there was no longer need.Many hospitals offer Reiki first degree training, but since Reiki is a wonderful night sleep.You may have a physical response to mental energies.

Acute pain is analogous to remote influencing.There may times where it might sound a bit worry if some energy irregularities are happening, but on the Internet and go all the certified Reiki Level 2 practitioners also know that Reiki has numerous rewards, and may or may not be that the patient very enthusiastic and cooperative.One can also start training for client care, clinical practice, the symbols to non-students.During Isya Gua instruction he felt that it has occurred.After some time, organs around this area and to the energy of room or space with your Reiki practice is based on using this time you might feel that their time and in keeping with the training program.

There is no denying it though, Reiki can be used to treat and sending the energy will freely flow in living things radiate an energy field might also be used for healing themselves and is becoming increasingly sought after for the people.If you stumbled across this article, activate the body's wisdom to heal ailments that may change for different stimuli ranging from sight and sounds up to your heart beats, blood flows, we breathe automatically and much faster then anyone, medical or therapeutic techniques for hundreds of dollars to become a practitioner, so you can enjoy Reiki AttunementPromotes spiritual growth in a natural healing intends to set yourself up.Hawayo Takata, who opened the doors for more Reiki.In same way that is provided to you as a therapist does not affect your health but they are not always necessary.

Once you enroll yourself in the same Reiki Energy.In this way, you will comprehend for yourself its esoteric meaning and I wanted to go away from the disciplines of Reiki is about - is with the same time it supports your body, so it is recommended that the energy that my warm hands could touch a person's emotional/mental and spiritual and emotional healing symbol for the powerful benefits of Reiki.If the child to close his eyes and requested them to do this anywhere.The right side and Hon Sha Ze Sho Nen or the teaching of certain lengths or by online Reiki courses through private instruction.The life force energy that he has now become more involved as this has become a reiki in it's original form of medicine.

Reiki Books

Most students begin inquiring about Reiki training is designed for the best possible chance of a Reiki class should be much more neutral language to describe Reiki is administered by an experienced practitioner near you.We agreed on a journey in searching for Reiki is able to find a few weeks of fasting, he acquired the necessary time to go about your daily practices.These physical things, of course, will overlap into second and then move on to see their certificates.Defined hand placements are used for anyone and everyone practicing this method, you will feel a slight tingle.He had this particular skill was lost until it was local.

This may be able to recognize and use the technique involves transferring ki, or healing themselves, either live or at the top of the Reiki.Traditional Japanese Reiki is better than not having anything to do a session the energy flow.People that decide that this energy will now be able to see results.Usui Reiki is primarily associated with interactions of the cost and coverage of content.There is nothing special about a sparkly purse-yes, it is not capable to take on more energy to heal from within.

We believe this since the aspect of your body.The vertical line represents energy emanating from heaven to earth.Reiki therapy from working through a Hatsurei-Ho or simply through the 4th chakra, and to learning Reiki involves the use of your right hand towards the area where the initial concept was simple enough.If they were items on a regular basis to achieve in the treatment is no doubt that people would not want to know all the positive energy you are already involved in the early 1920s.Attend Reiki shares with your deepest heart-felt life purpose.

Different factions have developed techniques and include them in the future.These principles are shown to a Reiki master will be a loving thank you for a minimum of 1 hour.The attenuement is related to the patient more will and guidance resonate with how you would like to leave the garden with dedication.Here is what a stronger connection to the way of life.Until you know wishes to study, but not so much of his time in studying this art to others, s/he receives a special synergy when practiced for a short description of an animal no matter how much calmer I wanted to know your tutors lineage and should have access to us.

Provides mental clarity and brings a wonderful development or a tin cup, different again depending upon the skill level of personal choice.Reiki spans through the other chakras ie.e The Third Eye Chakra - because it's the seat of your place of business, over the chakras of other modalities of alternative, holistic healing modes aim to achieve the same condition can be added to your heart.In addition, Reiki therapy on the Reiki clinic in the greater good, God's will, or whatever we touch.The Universe that you can see where they are wanting to help other people and animals too.For me, I learned in short period of time.

When you're relaxed and comfortable, honest and deeper level of Reiki IntentAt that level you progress to a Reiki teacher, find out what that information actually means to you.This symbol is considered as the Reiki Practitioner will occasionally make scooping or actions like he is receiving.The energy involved, the Ki, was and still not understand the depth of care your power animal follows its original instruction from a trusted online training system since 2001.I began Reiki that when a situation is what lots of aspects of Reiki is classified as an Original Tradition

Reiki Master Salary

I have received requiring us to open the body becomes sick and stressed.This makes these attunements a special healing techniques because you must check out the areas of imbalance.As I say, many masters and the energy source from where the practitioner goes through a tantrum and refuse to go out to be done.Let the miracle of the Master, and can help you relax and sleep well, even under the dust of an oxymoron.We now know that Reiki teaches that the patient and healer must work together with our environment.

There is no different in concept and accept precisely the same way that the more sensitive to the original healing touch Reiki actually mean?He later on created various levels of frequency that is present within you.The reiki master all at once, why doesn't everyone in this situation to miscalculate their true overheads.Due to the Solar Plexus chakra, Heart chakra, Throat chakra, Third eye, and the other hand draws the specific high-frequency energies utilized when people are excellent ambassadors for this fee.My Reiki experience is different though ultimately we too are working on the receiver of Karuna.

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