#sorry for drowning literally everyone's dash this week

[suzukiblu]

Mirrorverse Clark for wip Wednesday? Hope you’re not too overwhelmed with all the asks you’re probably getting

Superman settles him on his feet much more carefully than Kon would’ve expected him to, and Kon tries to lock his knees so he won’t crumple the moment the other lets go, but Superman . . . doesn’t let go. What he does, in fact, is loop an arm around him and splay a hand across the small of his back, and lift his other hand to touch Kon’s jaw. Tilt it. Kon feels a little dazed, and doesn’t quite . . . 

“Such a gift,” Superman murmurs approvingly. 

And then Superman kisses him. 

Kon makes–a noise. 

Kon almost fucking collapses. 

He doesn’t even know how to kiss back. 

“Come to bed, baby,” Superman coaxes before kissing him again, and Kon can’t possibly do anything else. 

Not for Superman.

[zukuist]

stood you up [hcs]

“it sounds exactly as it looks like. they stood you up on a date, and they realize the damage.”

includes: todoroki shouto, midoriya izuku, togata mirio (part one)

your name is shortened to y/n, they/them pronouns used (quirk up to the imagination)

notes: ANGST 😳 IN MY BLOG?? never thought i’d see it but.. here we are. i plan on doing part 2 with other characters.

—

todoroki shouto

he wakes up on a saturday, as per usual.

and he’s kinda— no scratch that, he’s very irritated

because the other night— endeavor was bothering him about ‘not training properly’ and he was accusing him of slacking off.

which.. he’s not

his father also gave him a scolding (which lasted for hours.),

but nothing too bad. it was enough to make him irritated. so uh oh. todoroki’s really something else when he’s irritated.

and endeavor also blew up his phone with badly written text messages, telling him to train today.

so likely, he also woke up quite irritated.

he just wanted to drown himself in training and school work to forget about it.

completely forgetting the date HE said he’d take you on that afternoon, the date he planned a week before.

because he FINALLY got the courage to ask his crush aka you out. with the help of midoriya

like.. you pass him in the hallway— and before you were able to speak, he just kinda..

glared at you and walked away, not exchanging any words with you. he really needs to cool down

which was.. huh. 🤨 okay then. but you excused it because todoroki had a resting bitch face at some moments

it’s 5pm now, and he’s chilling in the common room— and he finally calmed down, and he’s back to his usual demeanor

midoriya walks in the common room, and he’s like “hey todoroki! how was the date with y/n?”

because midoriya helped orchestrate the date, he wanted to know

todoroki’s just like “fuck.” he forgot, and he also may have glared at you by accident.

realization is shown on his face, and midoriya is left apalled— begging him to “go find y/n quick!”

todoroki literally goes 🏃‍♂️💨 to the meeting place, which was the park in this case

and he can’t find you— so he scans the entire vicinity, and he can see you walking back to the dorm in a distance

immediately, he runs after you— calling for you to just wait and hear him out but you don’t turn back,

because you just want to lay in bed and sleep for 5 days

and besides.. he’s the last person you wanted to see right now

he grabs you, which makes him stop in place— “y/n, please just—”

“oh what now, listen? you were the one that asked me out, todoroki. and you just..” bitterness is in your tone, and he can’t even be mad.

your voice falters, and you were mad at first. but you’re just exhausted at this point

you guys haven’t spoke all day

“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry,” he apologizes, looking at your appearance.

you look beautiful, and he just wasted it by forgetting the occasion. he doesn’t want to imagine what you’ve felt in the last several hours

“my father scolded me last night,” he grips on your hands, brushing his thumb on the back of your hand,

“and it was for a long time. and i was just so frustrated by it, i even looked at you weirdly and forgot about the entire date i planned out for weeks. and i’m sorry. i understand if you don’t want to—”

“just stop, okay?” he looks up, and you don’t seem that mad anymore. “i understand. i just wished you told me about it, y’know?”

it doesn’t seem enough, so he pulls you into a hug, “i’m sorry. may i.. take you out again tomorrow? i promise i’ll make it right.”

you give him a chance, after all— you know he truly cares about you.

midoriya izuku

in this case, y’all are already together

but he wanted to take you out on a date— because you guys have been so busy, that you just had no time for any proper dates

so.. he wanted to take you out during the break, finally relieved by the hectic activities for a day.

out of everyone here, he’s the least likely to forget things like dates, anniversaries, etc.

but izuku being that person that’s always like “i have to keep training and training to master this quirk!”

he might have gotten.. overboard with the training. making him completely forget about the entire occassion.

during days like this, he’ll try to split his time by training for 2 hours and studying for the same amount

but homeboy got distracted 💀

too distracted to the point he didn’t even look at the clock once

and now it’s nearly 5pm (y’all were supposed to have lunch at 12)

when he heads out to go get a glass of water in the kitchen, he runs into bakugou on the way

bakugou looked displeased. and he hasn’t seen him look this displeased since middle school

“aren’t you forgetting something?” he says that in his usual tone, and izuku can only stare at him questioning

“your shitty thing with y/n. they walked in here looking like someone shat in their cereal.”

oh no

how could he.. forget?

izuku immediately storms off to your floor, knocking on your door

“y/n? y/n, can we please talk?” his heart is racing with worry, and he’s not even sure if you’re gonna answer the door

you begrudgingly open the door, but you’re not facing him— you’re still dressed in the clothes you wore going out

and it looks like you’ve been crying

“dear,” izuku wants to console you, but you don’t want to recieve his hugs right now— especially after he stood you up

“this is our only day off, izuku.” you try to make your voice sound normal, but it’s not really working

“i know, i’m sorry. i’m so sorry y/n. i forgot about the entire thing while i was training, and i know i made you feel bad. i’m just so sorry.” he apologizes to you over and over again

you don’t look at him, so he cups your face with his calloused hands—

his touch soft on you as he wipes your tears “please talk to me.”

you huff, “i know how much you want to train your quirk, and be the best at all times. i’m not mad that you want to do that, but i just wished you spent time with me, even if it’s just for a minute.”

izuku listens, and you’re right. you guys haven’t been the best with quality time,

and it wasn’t fair of him to just go out and suddenly forget the date he arranged.

“i’m sorry.”

“stop apologizing,” you sigh, “just bring some snacks so we can watch that movie you’ve been raving about.”

his expression lights up, and he dashes downstairs to retrieve the items

oh and.. how bakugou knows about y’all’s date? he totally suggested it

togata mirio

mirio has always been the best boyfriend for you

never forgetting anything, infact- he’s usually the one that’s always early to the dates

because he’s so excited to hang out with you!

but because of his quite friendly nature, he’s practically a chick magnet

girls swarming him whenever they could, doesn’t even matter that they don’t have to date him— they just want to talk to him

and while he’s nice to these girls, he’s not disloyal to you at all— and that’s why you don’t mind it,

because you trust him

okay but.. you don’t mind it when girls swarm your boyfriend, until it gets in the way

like.. one time he was supposed to be at a date with you— but he got surprised by a bunch of girls

and not wanting to be rude to them, he entertained them

and he considered cutting the conversation short but.. they just kept going and going

until he’s an hour late. y’all were supposed to get lunch together.

eventually, the girls go away— which so happened to be around the time tamaki and nejire started looking for him.

“mirio!” nejire called out for him, tamaki right next to her “how was the— wait, did you have lunch with y/n?”

mirio blinks, and that’s when he realizes that he messed up.

tamaki sighs, and he can only pat his shoulder— “mirio, i k-know you’re a nice guy, but don’t let yourself get distracted.”

nejire can only agree, “afterall, y/n’s the one you’re dating, not those other people.”

they urge him to go find you, and when he does find you— you’re sitting on a bench, not looking amused at all.

“hi mirio,” you deadpan, “how were those girls you were talking to?”

mirio knows he messed up, he really does! “i’m so sorry, y/n!” he tries to explain himself “they got me.. carried away.”

“mirio, i know that you’re nice. i let them talk to you because i trust you. but when you go out and do things like this.. it’s strange! really.”

you want to not be angry, since this was bound to happen— possibly the day where mirio just forgets about you entirely

“i’m really sorry.” he sighs, disappointed with himself, “i really love you, and i’ll only ever date you! but i should’ve dismissed them much earlier.”

your gaze softens, and you cup his cheek with your hand “it’s okay, mirio. i’ll let it be just this once, but please promise me that it won’t happen again.”

mirio nods “yes, yes! i promise. it’ll never happen again.” he smiles, reassuring you

“now let’s get something to eat. i haven’t eaten yet.”

“right, right.” mirio laughs, the tense atmosphere dissipating

mirio tries to be more direct with dismissing them from now on, especially when he has to be somewhere with you.

—

©️izukulie 2021, bnha|mha belongs to horikoshi kohei. do not steal❕

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Life is beautiful and life is cruel. A window into the souls of the victorious and the vanquished. In a way, football did come home during the summer of 2021. Follow along Amelia’s journey, navigating the football world as a tactical analyst for the italian football team, with a brother and father part of the three lions. Will Amelia leave Italy and come back to England? Will she leave the Serie A for the Prem? Will she set aside the bianconeri stripes for new colours, leaving behind friendship for love? Maybe she can have both...

Hello my lovelies!! Part 3 sees a whole lot Amelia's beautiful brain & you get your first slice of interaction with the british boys - leading up to an all important Mykonos adventure (part 4 - out friday). As usual, please let me know your thoughts and feelings, and let me know what you want to see happen with Amelia and her story! Updates have increased to 3/week! I hope you're enjoying it as much as I am!

Love always,

Steph xx

UPDATE as of 31/07: I've made some additional editing changes due to some feedback about the confusion between ben white (her brother) and ben chilwell (not her brother LOL). Nothing has been added to the story, just the addition of either surname has been added where i think it could be more straightforward - for future readers!

Part 3. | parte terza

warnings; none - just a whole lot of feels.

word count; 2081

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Friday 30/07 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)!

Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven

link to fic masterlist here

It was the day after the final match and Amelia should be nursing a hangover due to the large amount of red wine she consumed with her Italian counterparts the night before. However, she finds herself at St. George’s Park before 9am, meeting one of her father’s colleagues who directs her to the recreation room that she remembers from a few days prior.

Standing outside the door, she assumed she was just waiting for her dad as agreed on the phone an hour earlier. As she was waiting, she could hear Gareth Southgate give a team talk to the players, praising them for their ability and pleading for them to bounce back from this defeat and use it to push on. The next voice she could hear was that of her father, giving them the tactical run through of the game. She listened to the points her father made, and both agreed and disagreed with some. Unexpectedly, the man sent to collect her opened the door and ushered her inside.

She stood at the back of the room, facing her dad and Gareth, whilst the team and other management staff had their backs to her. Making eye contact with her dad, he smiled slightly.

“Whilst I can offer you my opinion on the match last night, to better prepare you for the next time, there is no better opinion to learn from at this moment than that of your opponent. Amelia, would you please come up here” Dean really threw her into this situation, that again, she was not prepared for nor did she want to participate in. However, the 30+ sets of eyes that had currently turned around to stare at her didn’t exactly inspire a choice to be made here.

_____________________________________________________________

“Lads, this is my daughter. I taught her everything she knows, which was probably too much considering I can now recognise that it was her signature plays that the italian side used to their advantage last night. Treat her with respect, or I will let her at you. Which i’m sure you all saw a few nights ago in this very room” My dad spoke as I walked up to the front area, weaving in and around beanbags with players occupying them.

Standing in front of the Three Lions was more nerve wracking now than it had been when she was confronting her brother, maybe Fede did offer her protection as his bodyguard. Either way, she put her big girl pants on (figuratively speaking, literally she was wearing her official puma tights and Italian polo) and got on with it as if she was speaking to her team.

“Thanks Dad. Hey guys, I think the first thing I would like to say is that you’re allowed to feel exactly how you feel right now. There is no rush to ‘get over it’ or ‘push on and learn’. You need to feel this now, feel it throughout your body, understand the pain and then turn it into motivation.” I speak to the group, trying to accurately express how sincere I am to this group of heartbroken men.

“As for tactics, I can stand here and praise you for how good you really are but that's not how you are going to learn. You came into the game hard and fast.” I paused, understanding the innuendo just as it was flying out of my mouth. I pursed my lips and tried to hold my giggle in, however some of the boys seem to have the same sense of humour as I do. My brother, face of steel and eyes that burn into any man that tries to joke with me.

“Sorry, can’t help myself. So yeah, you took charge of the game from kick off and we were not ready. You had the aggression and desire to push from the start and that's what you did, Shaw, you really surprised me with that goal. Not because I didn't think you could do it but because I wasn’t anticipating you being someone we had to watch so closely.”

“Again, something you guys need to keep in mind is that it is literally my job to know everything about you and how you play the game, what foot you prefer, who you pass to, how long you hold the ball before you pass, do you like to assist or score...all of these things make a massive difference in each play we make.”

“The error you made came around the 25th minute of the game, we had settled into the game and did what we do best - we slowed you down. In Italy, in the Serie A, which is where most of my team play, the game is a lot slower. There is more skill and tactic used to ensure a favourable outcome. Again, i'm not saying you all don’t have skill, but the Prem favours pace over tactics and strategy. The only way we were going to be able to win was by making you play our game, but in your half of the pitch.”

At this point, all of their eyes are trained to me and the more senior players of the team, like Henderson, Walker, Coady, Kane, they understand what i’m trying to say. Gareth, my dad and other members of staff are sitting to one side, arms folded and a slight smile on their face at the simplicity of my approach to such an important game. I direct my next question to them.

“Can I ask - have you already selected your man of the match?”

“Off record, yes we have. Before I announce to the team who it is, can I direct the question back to you and find out who you would award it to?” Gareth poses back to me, interested to hear my opinion.

“While the obvious choices would be Kane, Sterling, Maguire - your players who perform week in week out and are consistent and no doubt deserve an award as such. I would recommend Declan Rice. Personally, he was the most instrumental in the match last night. Every time we turned to attack, he was there to stop it. He was a player I was confident that I knew the extent of his ability, when it was obvious that I didn't.”

The boys around him, Mason Mount & Ben Chilwell, offered him a gentle shove and ruffle of the hair, to show their encouragement to the bashful boy who seemed surprised at the praise he was receiving.

“The other player that I think deserves a bit of a shoutout, and not because of his hair, is Jack Grealish.” I spoke, looking around the room until we locked eyes. I wanted him to understand how serious i was about my next words.

“You are so dangerous on the ball, you are an asset as a team mate, you aren’t guilty with the ball, but you have the power behind you to score when the opportunity presents itself. The moment you were subbed on I pulled Jorginho to the side and told him to treat you like Chiellini and Bonnucci were handling Sterling and Kane. You were one of my players to watch, and for good reason”

At the end of the little session, I said thanks to the boys for listening and that I hope to see them again in a tournament. The only way to be the best is to beat the best. After a quick round of applause that made me feel more special than I am, I walked past my brother, gave him a quick ruffle of his hair and met my dad at the back. Gareth dismissed the boys and they all stood up, breaking away and grabbing some breakfast that was set up to the side of the room, for one last team meal.

“Mills!! I’ll get you an almond croissant and a coffee, come sit with me!” Walker shouted from across the room.

“Oi mate, she’s my sister not yours” Ben counters from the back of the line.

“Yeah she's your sister by blood, mine by choice.” Kyle firmly states and begins his way to one of the tables.

“I suppose i better join Kyle before he drowns everyone in his tears” i joked with the england officials i was standing with before walking over to Kyle and a few of his team mates.

“Sooo am I supposed to pretend I don’t know who you all are so you can introduce yourselves? Or do we just mutually agree that I know too much about each of you and not bring it up?” I question the boys, jokingly. They all laugh and I sit down in the space Kyle left between himself and John Stones. I sat there and got to know some of the boys on a less competitive level, working out who was a leader both on the pitch and off it. After listening to the boys joke around and just be mates, rather than teammates, I leaned over to Kyle.

“Hey, before I go, do you think you can introduce me to Bukayo? I want to speak with him for a moment.”

“Yeah sure, I'll take you over there. Why are you nervous? You've never been shy before” Kyle questioned back at me.

“I’m not nervous, I'm just hyper aware of the sensitivity of the moment. Last night would have been tough”

Saying goodbye to the boys, Kyle directed me over to a table that was sitting my brother Ben White, Kalvin, Ben Chilwell, Grealish, Saka, Sancho & Rashford.

“Hey boys, Ben, I just wanted to come say goodbye before I head off.” I directed towards my brother. He pulled up a chair and asked me to sit for 5 more minutes, claiming he deserved it after months of no contact.

“Ben here didn’t let us know he had a sister as smart as you...what happened to you Ben? Did you miss that gene?” Jack Grealish poked at my brother. With his signature scowl on his face, Ben White let his mates laugh at his expense.

“Oh don’t make fun of my brother Benny, that’s my job!” I joked back, setting the boys off again with my brother’s childhood nickname. It was nice to hear some laughter again from a side that looked so solemn the night before.

“No in all seriousness boys, I especially came over because I wanted to talk to you Bukayo - what you did was so impressive. In a final, as the last penalty taker, to take on the responsibility of the nation at the age of 19! Not many players would dare to do that. You have earned a lot of respect, particularly from the Italian camp.” I spoke with a smile on my face, directed at the young boy.

“The same goes for you two” Now looking at Sancho & Rashford.

Bukayo looked down at his hands & smiled, before getting up and walking to my side of the table. Anticipating what he was going to do next, I stood up and welcomed him with open arms. Grateful that he understood my message and was beginning to accept the praise he so deserved. Stepping back from the hug, I turned to address the group of lads one more time.

“If any of you fancy a change of pace and want to come over to the Serie A, just give me a call - Benny can give you my number!” I start to speak, before I'm cut off but my brother.

“Stop poaching my mates! I’ve already lost you to another country. I don't need to lose anyone else” He jokingly says while standing to walk me out of St. George’s Park. I know it was a joke but I can't help but think there was some truth to that.

It had been more than 3 years since I moved out of our family home to start my life in Turin, and not one moment had i regretted it or thought i made the wrong decision. Don’t get me wrong, there are times when I wished I was closer to my family, but I know I had to make that move to prove to myself I am just as successful as I hoped I would be. Not saying I have learnt everything there is to learn with the Serie A giants, Juventus, but maybe it's time for a new challenge? Maybe I can bring the strategic spin on the game to the fast paced action of the premier league?

Part 4. | quarta parte

[foulcrownkryptonite]

Tracing Constellations

A storm rages through the 104th's wooded training quarters, leaving a long hike for Jean and Marco to fix a water-logged issue... the time alone making for some unexpected discoveries.

(for the sake of the fic + levels of maturity I am achieving with this story, everyone will be legal adults!)

Chapter One: An Obscurity.

“I’ll kill them all! Just you wait and see!!” The dining hall had been relatively calm, the tranquil buzz of steady conversation and cutlery clinking against plates mixed to create a pleasant hum. It was one of those rare nights their usual starchy glop was exchanged for a more sustainable, hearty potato soup, paired with a cheap but effective booze. A good night to say the least. A good night until Eren (Dumbass) Jaeger opened his obnoxious mouth. The young man’s tired phrase reverberated throughout the hall, pitching obnoxiously off the high ember ceiling. God, I’m too sober for this…

Eren’s endless prattling of ‘I’ll save the world’ or ‘I have more passion than anyone here’ had gotten old fast. It bugged the ever-loving shit out of him, and with the current daggers-for-eyes and under-the-breath-scoffs Jaeger was getting, the sentiment was well shared.

“Don’t give me that Mikasa, I mean it! I’m going to kill every last one of those-'' Eren was promptly cut off by Jean’s hands smacking the table in front of him, causing a nearby fork to clink to the ground. Jean rose from his seat with an overly dramatic flare, making a show out of swooping his hair back. If the entire dining hall weren’t already watching the pair with dreadful, tired looks, they certainly were now. Some hushed whispers and exasperated groans sprinkled about the room as Jean assumed his stance towering over Eren.

“Well, all hail King Jaeger, eh? Oh don’t worry my friends, the man who can’t balance on his ODM gear will stop the incoming apocalypse!” he taunted, voice oozing with that special kind of ridicule Jean knew got Eren’s blood boiling. He was up and out of his seat before Mikasa had a chance to pull him back. Jean snorted loudly.

“Eager are we? Well then Jaeger, fight me like the man you’re always claiming to be.”

“Says the fucking horse face”

“Oh how original”

“Foal!”

“Jackass!”

The surrounding cadets watched with jaded faces, sighing at the scene unfolding for at least the third time that week. It was no longer entertaining, or really worth wasting any time or energy on, so they returned their attention to their much more exciting dinners and side banters.

The ever arrogant duo stepped to the center of the room, assuming, of course, all focus to be on them. Sharing dissent and ill-bred sneers, they theatrically assumed their fighting position. Guess I’ll just have to put him back in his pla-

“Nope. Okay-hah, we’re done here.” Marco interrupted, their foolish behavior striking his last nerve, the last nerve of the entire collective dining hall for that matter. Sighs of relief and annoyance sounded around them as Marco marched over and grabbed at Jean’s jacket, pulling him out from the table and towards the door.

“‘Ey, what’re you doin-” Marco wordlessly dragged the half pissed, half confused and positively tipsy Jean across the room, the grip on his jacket unwavering. A small chuckle escaped Jean’s mouth at Marco's unexpectedly forceful behavior. Damn, those muscles aren’t just for show, huh?

Marco sighed as he led him towards the door, a poorly concealed smile creeping its way onto his features. “Bedtime.” Marco concluded, biting back his smile in need of a more threatening look. Jean didn’t fight it. Instead, he bristled as he caught Conny’s snide face before the door to the dining hall was shut by Marco’s boot. The low lit lantern illuminated the two in a soft orange glow and the thick wooden door effectively drowned out the murmurs coming from behind it.

The change in air was drastic, shifting from a crowded and loud mess hall to the peaceful sounds of an autumn night and Marco’s freckled face incandescent under that old lantern. Marco’s hand remained firm in the layers of his jacket yet neither made motions to move. Jean was in a weird sort of trance and yeah he should move and unblock the way for Marco but for some reason he didn't. It wasn’t as if the other had really given him a chance to, what with him still holding onto the front of Jean’s coat.. A couple still moments passed and Marco had a strange, almost calculating look on his face.

Jean couldn't remember how long he had been standing there, the alcohol starting to intoxicate his body and the sheer closeness of Marco starting to intoxicate his brain. But if the loosening grip on his chest and Marco’s suddenly flushing face said anything, whatever this was had gone on a bit too long. The last thing Jean wanted was to make his good friend uncomfortable- No matter how nice just standing there in the cool breeze with Marco’s hand on his chest… Nope. Backtrack on that line of thinking. Immediately.

Things were getting awkward fast and Marco looked like he was going to say something and shit he probably shouldn’t have chugged that last bit of his drink, huh? To clear the sudden tension caused by his inability not to fucking gawk at Marco, Jean did the only thing his dumb tipsy brain could think of: make a drunken escape.

“Betcha can’t catch me.” he blurted before breaking out of Marco’s loose hold, running towards their quarters in a less than put together fashion. Was Jean literally running away from whatever moment just passed between the two? Why yes, indeed he was. But Marco’s eventual breathy laugh and quickening footsteps enclosing in on him told Jean everything was fine. Well consider that a job well done.

The two then stupidly ran around the camp, Jean hiding behind every tree and supply wagon trying to scare Marco, and Marco doing everything in his power to tackle the other. After a particularly bone crushing embrace and a loud laughing fit quickly admonished by Shadis, the inebriated pair walked the rest of the way to their dorm, the air around them now whimsy and casual.

They trudged through the wooded path, torches lighting the ground every few yards. They sprung into sporadic fits of giggles over absolutely nothing, both of the men now feeling the full effects of dinner’ mead, and Marco no longer playing the role of the responsible sober friend.

The cadets had been training in the woods for a week now, the goal being to get them used to ODM gear and combat in a dense forest. It was a welcome change of scenery from the usual parching desert and brutal heat. Being surrounded by rich greens and active rivers somehow made the strenuous drilling and long hours somewhat enjoyable.

Though navigating the dark forested path whilst drunk proved to be more than a little difficult. His attempts at walking straight in the dense woods were apparently remarkably entertaining, as when Jean confidently waltzed straight into a tree the slightly less drunk Marco lost his absolute mind, laughing himself into a puddle on the ground.

With minimal bumps and bruises, they eventually made it to their quarters. Marco plopped himself dramatically onto an old shipping barrel and started to squirm his way out of his jacket. Ok, perhaps the other was drunker than Jean thought.

Chuckling to himself, he walked over to help his struggling friend out of the confines of the fabric. Marco stopped squirming and tried to accommodate for Jeans helping hands, flushing slightly when his eyes met Jeans. He quickly averted his gaze, turning to eye the door as Jean finished struggling with the last button.

With the jacket discarded, Marco straightened his gaze to look up at Jean, who seemed to tower over him. A couple heated seconds passed in silence until Marco started… shaking? Before concern could settle in, sporadic chuckles started to escape from the man underneath him, evolving into a full on belly laugh. Jean took a small step back and looked down at him in bewilderment but Marco just shook his head, words be damned in his current state.

“Sorry, I just-” he began to topple over himself, a fit of laughter bubbling in his stomach. “I don’t know why I’m laughing honestly-” he spat out through giggles. He was fluctuating between attempting to catch his breath and then losing it all over again. It was utterly ridiculous, but Jean couldn’t hold back his own ugly laugh at the scene. Every couple of seconds Marco would try to stop and speak through the laughter but to no avail, making Jean slump to the ground in front of Marco, clutching his stomach as his body heaved with mirth.

Marco was snorting at that point and on anyone else he would’ve been annoyed at the sheer volume. Say, if Eren was sitting on that barrel losing his damn mind over nothing at all he would’ve slapped the sense back into him. But something about Marco’s water filled eyes and big loud smile just made him feel warm. Or.. perhaps that was just the alcohol.

He grinned as he looked only at the mad man sitting in front of him. From this distance he could see each little freckle adorning his nose and cheeks and the way his nose would scrunch in between sets of giggles. It was an endearing sight, cute even, though Jean would never admit that aloud.

Too caught up in their snickering, the two almost didn’t notice their comrades briskly stumbling in, Ymir being the one who pushed the two large wooden doors hurriedly. “In.” she commanded, and stepped back as everyone else dashed inside. Jean startled and Marco’s laughter alleviated as Ymir eyed them, her face contorted so it was impressively indecipherable. She had quite the poker face, though some general annoyance seemed to seep out as usual.

“What’s the damn ruckus about?” Jean demanded more than he asked, his filter coming back down hard now that more people were around. Ymir looked at Jean with a face that basically read as, ‘Shut the fuck up you’re the one making a dopey ruckus.’ Instead of voicing any of that though, she shut and locked the door as the final cadets made their way inside.

“Massive storm coming in, it’ll do some damage” she stated plainly before her eyes went back to Marco. “Maybe you two lovebirds would’ve noticed if you weren’t screaming like damn hyenas.” she joked dryly, her arms coming to a close across her chest. Marco snorted slightly at the tease but Jean stood up defensively, though perhaps a bit wobbly.

Before he could say a word, Ymir cut in with a raised brow. “Whoaaa relax there horsey, I’m kidding. Mostly. Just go lock the windows in the other rooms before they blow out in the middle of the night.” he nodded hesitantly in response and gave Marco a floppy wave of sorts. He still looked like he was glowing, as if somehow the light from the torches outside still reflected in his pale brown eyes. A sneer from Ymir brought his attention back to… what exactly? Oh right, the windows. Jean quickly left without another word, cursing the alcohol slightly under his breath. The rest of the cadets shuffled about, fulfilling whatever it was their makeshift Captain Ymir ordered.

Not without a scoff and an eye roll, she turned back to Marco. “Just us,” she demanded. “Help me with the rest of the rooms.”

__________

(MARCO POV)

After a solid half hour of flood-proofing the place to the best of their ability, as well as general clean up, Ymir poured the two of them a small whisky to top off the night. Marco relaxed into the sole couch of the common room and Ymir slumped herself into a chair by the window.

The living space was dusky and growing winds pounded the windows, putting them slightly on edge. Nevertheless, Ymir seemed to have something to say to him. She gulped down her drink and tossed the empty glass onto the ground, Marco’s eyes widening in both awe and intimidation. He steeled his nerves as he prepared for whatever it was Ymir needed out of him.

She looked at him like a scientist to a specimen, searching for something upon Marco’s features. Marco squirmed under the intense stare, and it was then that Ymir asked the burning question, cutting right to the chase.

“Do you like Jean?” she probed. Marco sucked in a quick breath at this question. The answer was yes, but why was she asking in the first place? Not knowing exactly what angle she was getting at, he tried to answer in the simplest, most non revealing way.

“Yeah I mean we’re definitely good friends.” he said apprehensively. Not wanting to look Ymir in the eyes, his gaze fell back to the rather pretty glass in his hands, thumbs tracing the engraved pattern.

Ymir smirked at this reaction and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees in a carefree ‘Ymir’ kinda way. “Marco. You know what I'm asking.” her voice was laced with mirth and her sneering face told him she probably already knew his answer. Damn her perceptiveness. Marco had hoped he wasn’t too obvious in his… feelings. But he supposes after tonight's less than subtle antics, e.g., grabbing a laughing Jean into an animalistic embrace and holding it for much longer than necessary, people would start suspecting something.

His eyes still didn’t meet hers as he sighed shakily, knowing there was little to no backing away from this conversation. “Please just… Don’t tell him?” he pleaded, looking back to the girl sitting across from him. Her previous visible mockery and inevitable taunt had faded, her features setting into something akin to understanding.

“Sure, you can trust me.” she said casually, taking a swig of the remaining whisky straight from the bottle. “We’re the same in that way if ya catch my drift.” Although compared to, say Christa, Ymir’s words would seem invasive and rude, they were sweet in their own way. And although Marco wouldn’t say this wasn’t invasive, he appreciated the kindness nonetheless.

Regardless, Marco definitely “caught her drift”. He looked at her with a sort of twinkle in his eyes, pleased to know there was at least one other person in the 104th that wasn’t straight. He chuckled, still embarrassed despite the genuinely accepting nature of their conversation thus far. “God, what gave it away?”

“Oh, I dunno,” she sighed dramatically, “Maybe the way he was looking at you. Maybe the way you were looking at him… Or maybe just a hunch I happened to get right.” Marco laughed at the sentiment before a frown crept onto his face. “Does anyone else…”

“Know?” she finished. Marco nodded. “No, they don’t. It seems only I had the misfortune of seeing you two ogle each other all the damn time. Awful luck on my part. But don’t ya worry, your dirty little secret’s safe with me.”

He snickered as he raised his glass to his lips, downing the rest of the liquid inside. Ymir gave him a curious glance, and Marco softly set the drink down to his side, hands reaching up to grab at his warming face.

“God, what do I even do about it?” he mumbled through the palms of his hands, and Ymir could taste the desperation from where she sat.

Resting her chin between her fingers, she spoke. “Look, hear me out before you interrupt and tell me I’m wrong - but he likes you too.” Marco lifted his head to speak but Ymir cut him off with a glance. “I said, listen. I see the way he looks at you. I saw the way he looked at you tonight. He wasn’t just glancing at his friend… He was admiring you, Marco, your features. Now to me, that’s pretty telling.” Marco contemplated what she was saying, tried to really think about it before he shot it down entirely.

Is that really true? Is it even possible that the oh so straight Mr. ladies man Jean could… Feel the same way about him? It’s true they had some… moments tonight. Hell they’ve been having “moments” for as long as they've known each other. Though Jean did end up speeding away from one of those so called moments just over an hour ago… Was he being too hopeful? Oh god was he coming on too strong?

Ymir groaned at Marco's crestfallen face and stood up, closing the distance between the seats and plopping herself next to Marco. He gave her a curious glance, and in turn she gave a patient smile, well it was really closer to a grimace but still, it was the principle of it all.

He sat quietly, picking his lips with his bottom teeth. Ymir let him wallow in his worry for a whopping three seconds before kicking his ankle with her boot.

“Ow!” Marco pouted. An unspoken question of ‘The hell was that for?’ being shut down before it could be voiced.

“Oh shut it you were visibly spiraling.”

Ymir sunk into the back of the couch, pondering a moment before speaking again.

“You know, Jean isn’t going to initiate anything. Seeing as you’re more in tune with your emotions than that knucklehead is, you need to drop your damn balls and make a move.” Marco scoffed, shaking his head with a slight smile at Ymir’s bluntness.

“I know, I know… You’re right.” Marco finally begrudged, causing Ymir’s ‘Of course I'm right’ smile to appear. “But we never get alone time - we’re always interrupted before he can fully open up to me…”

“Yes!” Ymir exclaimed. “You see it now. Sure it might seem tricky, but if Christa and I can find a way, you can too.” she winked and Marco damn near choked.

“You- and- I had no idea I mean-“ he stuttered before she kicked him again.

“Shut up. And don’t tell a soul.” She smiled cheekily. He nodded intently.

“Course, Ymir.” She playfully punched him, standing up from the sunken couch.

“Good luck, Marco.” she whispered.

He beamed, his chest gleaming with a soft gratitude. “Thank you.”

When Marco turned in for the night, his mind raced with endless possibilities, ranging from transcendent to nightmarish. Wishful thoughts flashed through his mind; Jean getting impossibly close, feather light touches of hands, his head resting in the crook of Jean’s neck, Marco being told he was wanted, telling Jean he wanted him. He bit his cheek, smiling stupidly at the fantasies before he felt a deep sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Jean could easily not feel the same. Jean could easily have never entertained the same idyllic fantasies as Marco was now.

Great, now it hurt.

Plagued with a new sense of guilt, he tossed and turned in the seasoned cot, praying for sleep to take him away from the build up of emotions in his chest. He pondered the possibility of similar thoughts dancing in Jean’s mind…

__________

(Jean POV)

Jean didn’t “wake up”, he just was up. That damned storm last night had kept him awake practically all night. What first was an occasional gust quickly turned into a rampaging wind-demon set out to prevent him and apparently only him from sleeping soundly. Someone had cursed him. Probably that damn Jaeger out for revenge due to Jean always winning their feuds. Typical.

The little sleep he did get consisted of repeated unsolicited scenarios about… Well that didn’t matter now.

It was the morning after a ferocious storm and he was reluctant to see the wreckage he knew he had to help out with. He groaned, rolling out of his bed in an overly dramatic pout. Sure he was acting a bit like a child but right now he just needed sleep so damn everything else, he’s going to throw his little fit. He caught Marco looking at him out of the corner of his eye, his hair ruffled and looking extra fluffy. He was giggling at Jean’s stubborn theatrics, a sweater-hooded hand loosely covering his mouth. Cute. Jean felt a bit more energized after that and he didn't bother to question why.

Once dressed, he headed out to meet the rest of the trainees outside the sleeping quarters. Holy hell, the damage was bad: shingles of the roof scattered the grass, trash was knocked down, even some large trees had fallen in the distance.

Eren rolled his eyes before their commander could even step close. “God, can’t we make someone else clea-” the brat began before getting hit softly by Armin.

“Eren! One day of cleanup doesn’t equate to the fall of humanity.” he sharply retorted. Jean chuckled at this exchange, overjoyed to see the prick put in his place by his own best friend. Speaking of which, he couldn’t seem to spot Marco…

“ATTENTION CADETS.” their Commander roared as he marched toward the gathered crowd.

“YES SIR!” They yelled back in unison, fists crossing chests in an assertive salute.

“Deep woods ODM training is put on hold for today due to the storm. I will be assigning you each in groups of two or three to aid in cleaning this mess.” Jean scanned the surrounding area nervously, where was Marco? “Proceed to the front to get your duty from me before you grab a cold meal.” the Commander directed. Pairs of people made their way to get their job of the day, but Jean stayed behind, unable to spot Marco. Nerves crept up his spine as the line got shorter, indicating he would have to grab a job with someone he possibly couldn’t stand - especially after such a shitty sleep.

A few moments later and the remaining crowd was scant, still no Marco to be seen. “Jean, you’re on running water. I need you to go up to the creek and find the source stopping the water from running back to us. We have enough for the day, but this cannot go on. You will need a partner…” Shadis trailed off, finding only Annie and some guy Jean barely could remember the name of. Tomas? Tobiaus? Timothious?

He sighed, knowing nothing but complaints would come from either cadets if forced to spend an entire day with him. Jean crossed his arms, awaiting a choice of partner from his boss while he dreaded the inevitably long journey stuck with either insufferable silence or annoying small talk.

“Commander sir, I can go with Jean.” A pleasant voice chirped in from behind. And with those few words: salvation. Jean subconsciously uncrossed his arms and smirked as the Commander let out a sigh of relief upon seeing Marco approach.

“Thank Heavens, the one person who can stand him.” he murmured, Marco frowning at the not so quiet comment as he walked up to Jean's side. “That is fine, pack plentiful in case you get stuck for a night, we are not sure how much wreckage is up there, nor how long the journey on foot will take. There’s a shed around there you could set up in for the night. Do not come back today if you do not have ample time before sundown. Now get moving!” he ordered, his last words reverberating in a loud squawk.

“Yes sir!” They saluted before Jean met eyes with Marco. “Where the hell were you?” he questioned. Marco playfully rolled his eyes.

“Worried, hmm?” he chuckled, “Don’t worry, I was just helping Ymir with something.” he replied brightly. Ymir? That seems random… But he decided to not question it.

The two went back to their rooms to pack for their lengthy and no doubt strenuous trip up the mountain. Jean found himself not only not dreading the excursion, but actively looking forward to it. He felt a bit like a hyperactive kid as genuine excitement coursed through his veins. Should he bring his comb? Nah he probably won't need it. But what if they do end up having to spend the night and Jean turns too much in his sleep and his hair gets all messy and floofy and Marco looks at him with damned bed head and then probably giggles to himself and makes a dumb but cute comment about it because its Marco and somehow he always manages to make what Jean is insecure about into something he can actually like about himself just like when he’d said Jean’s eyes were pretty like a brown hibiscus and he stopped hating the way his eyes looked when he saw his reflection looking back at him and- Jean grabbed the stupid hairbrush and threw it into his bag.

Once sufficiently supplied, they scarfed a crummy cold meal before heading out as quickly they could manage.

Marco seemed awfully giddy as they started down a gravely path lined with fern. Though cheerful he often was, Marco was struggling to hide a smile. It wasn’t a bad sight at all, though Jean was curious. “What’s got you so damn happy today?” he questioned. Marco shrugged.

“I think I made a new friend - always a nice feeling, yknow?” Jean would say he’s surprised, but everyone in the 104th loved Marco, even the stoic ones, and he had a sneaking suspicion of who exactly his new friend was.

“Ymir?” he asked plainly. Marco nodded, a soft smile finding its way onto his face.

“Yeah. Y’know, she may seem edgy but she can be really kind.” he expressed, eyes a bit starry and thoughtful. He clearly didn’t hear how the words sounded to Jean.

Jean bit back the bitter remark already forming as envy crept its way into his mind. Why was it bothering him? He’s still his friend. His best friend even. Gah, not a big deal, keep it together. He told himself before rephrasing whatever edgy comment he was going to sneer into a hopefully harmless question.

“You like her?” he ended up asking, false humor falling from his tongue.

Marco looked visibly confused. “What? No I’m- not my type. She just has a good head on her.” he surmised. Why won’t Marco ever admit attraction? Does he not trust Jean? Jean had no problem divulging about those he found hot, so why wouldn’t Marco do the same?

The next few hours were spent bullshitting around as they walked; sharing stupid jokes about who in their class was most likely to get kicked out, a stupid conversation about Ymir that probably shouldn’t have peeved him so much, Jean going on a long winded rant about how justified he is in smacking Eren atop the head, Marco stopping to pick up random bird feathers exclaiming each time that, “No Jean, you don’t get it, this one is rare.” and eventually, as the sun started its descent towards the horizon, their casual banter shifted into their hopes for the future.

“Eh, I don’t wanna get married. Who wants to be stuck with a chick forever?!” Jean quipped. At his words Marco chuckled nervously, his gaze diverting to the coarse dirt beneath him.

“Yeah, me too. I don’t wanna get married. I’m fine living a life alone with me and my hobbies.” he said flippantly, fiddling with the strap of his backpack. Jean found the tone of his voice had changed into something more sullen and somber, and a glance over at his friend did not yield him any better results. Jean must do something about this.

He lightly elbowed his friend. “Well, if ya change your mind, I think you’d make a great husband some day.” Jean said honestly, no lick of sarcasm to his voice. Marco’s knees wobbled for a moment before he corrected them, clearing his throat to cover his obvious nerves.

“Thanks, Jean. You too.” he replied, biting his cheek. Another glance towards his friend showed a soft smile and a flushed face. Jean succeeded. Though now he too felt a bit hot in the face. He once again decided not to unpack that.

As they hiked, they spotted a would-be stream leading down to their base. Taking note of the lack of obvious running water, they were certain something rather large had blocked it. “Guess it’ll be a chore huh.” Marco pointed out. Jean began flexing dramatically, his tight muscles showing slightly through the thin white tunic.

“Pfft, your ol’ buddy Jean here will fix it right up for us, eh?” he joked, Marco eyeing him with a raised eyebrow followed with a hearty laugh. Sure, he wasn’t helping Jean’s ego, but he didn’t care.

The more they conversed alone, the more Jean felt his social facade fade, ending up losing whatever filter he had in place for other people all together. He wasn’t sure why this was the case, only knew that it made him feel relaxed and just genuinely, all around good. Perhaps it was the lack of a crowd - or Eren Jaeger. Either way, he was loosening up and took joy in seeing Marco enjoy himself on this trip as well.

“This is nice,” Jean said, smiling at the open air and lack of obvious walls. It felt open here, almost free. Hell, for the most part, they’ve forgotten completely about life inside the walls. Marco looked over and followed his friend's gaze to the sky, basking in the comfortable feeling.

“It is…” he began, sneaking another glance at Jean. “Really nice.”.

PART 2!!! 

https://foulcrownkryptonite.tumblr.com/post/663166809268224000/tracing-constellations-pt2

[faebriel]

ok ok I'm insane and couldn't pick one so have two (no need to answer both if you don't want to)

“You talk to him.” Not kindly, but he does.

“I’m used to him,” he shoots back. “I’m the only person who is.”

That makes Niki feel something, some uncomfortable tug in her chest. She mentally kicks herself. It’s not jealousy, she reminds herself, because despite the near-cliff jumping and the long nights without food and the nuclear fallout that has punctuated her last few months, being jealous of Tommy would be the least reasonable thing she’s allowed herself to be, maybe ever.

“You don’t believe me,” Tommy says flatly. “You never - eugh.” He cuts himself off with another ragged sigh, running a hand down his face. “Look, Niki, it’s - we were all together in Pogtopia, right? But I was there first. With him. And you didn’t see the start of it, it was horrible, and I’m glad no one else saw the beginning of it either but it was still just so shit and he kept saying all these terrible things about Tubbo and Fundy and you and,” he takes a shaky breath, “then, when I died, I saw him.”

Her breath catches in her throat.

Well, the voice in the back of her head whistles. If you were still wondering about all this afterlife bullshit, if you want to know where you’re going after your third life, here you go.

and

“You didn’t even - this isn’t about L’Manberg, Wilbur!” Niki shouts.

And then he stops, breathing hard, and he looks at Niki the same way he does whenever her voice is being drowned out in a crowd - the way he does when he wants to hear her, when he wants to know what she has to say.

“What else is there?” he asks.

Niki freezes. Stock still, unable to move, unable to breathe, ice threading its way through her gut, her chest, her shoulders, chilled down to the bone. With slow-dawning horror, she can feel hot tears welling up behind her eyes, sitting in her throat, threatening to spill over into a sob. She swallows - to keep her cool, to stay calm, to keep it together -

And then, something in her chest just snaps.

“You said you’d come back for me!” she cries, and her voice hitches on the lump of tears at the back of her throat and god, she sounds absolutely pathetic. Wilbur’s face softens immediately, which somehow just makes her feel even worse. “In Manberg. When Schlatt put me in prison, and you and Tommy were in Pogtopia, you said you’d break me out when it was safe. I waited for weeks , Wilbur. It was… it was horrible.”

“Niki…” a kaleidoscope of emotions flicker across his face, and he seems unsure which to settle on. “We got you out though, right? After the festival.”

“You looked for the button first,” she says quietly, and he stills.

Her sniffling sounds embarrassingly loud against the quiet background of night.

thank you sm!!! i’m gonna put these under the cut because they got a little long sorry (tw for discussion of suicidal ideation)

to preface: tommy is kind of the accidental but incredibly necessary invisible support beam for niki and wilbur’s making amends in bitter. niki cannot accept wilbur’s actions and apology without first acknowledging her own actions and making steps towards an apology, because otherwise it kind of falls flat? in that ending scene niki finally gets what wilbur is feeling and wilbur finally gets that someone else knows how he feels (it’s not perfect 100% yet, but…. that’ll get explored later)

onto the actual snippet! “tommy talks to wilbur - not kindly, but he does” was very important to me! tommy has stuck by wilbur ever since pogtopia, but the tragedy is that he is not equipped to deal with wilbur’s issues, and it shows. wilbur’s first stream after revival depicts this really clearly, where tommy tails wilbur around the whole time but insults him, is still stuck on calling him the villain, physically fights him at some point, etc. on one hand this isn’t healthy but on the other hand tommy is actually around, which is more than can be said for basically any other ally wilbur has had on the dsmp, maybe excluding his dad, who literally killed him lmfao.

this whole issue is exacerbated by the fact that tommy believes that he is the only person who properly understands wilbur, the only person who gets what happened to him, and feels like wilbur is generally his burden to bear. he failed to stop wilbur from both 1. hurting other people and 2. killing himself after the pogtopia-manberg war - and he doesn’t trust wilbur not to do either of those things again, so he’s stuck hovering around wilbur while wilbur is inadvertently setting off his own trauma and feeling responsible for any way he might fuck up and hating that but not wanting to leave. tommy’s memory isn’t perfect and he isn’t a perfect narrator, what he remembers from pogtopia the most were the scariest parts and that’s understandable but it means he’s holding wilbur to the worst expectations of behaviour (and he does so very vocally). the others showed up later, sure, but in tommy’s eyes he’s the only one who saw wilbur’s descent, and by the time they showed up wilbur had already changed irreversably. tommy tries to rationalise this by splitting the ‘different wilburs’ apart from each other in his head (he does this in canon too - there’s one quote from like late 2020 where he says he and tubbo need to keep on going for who wilbur used to be, not who he became, even though they’re,, the same person), and no one challenges that perspective, so he just keeps doing it even though it’s not healthy for him or wilbur.

and then limbo happened and, oh geez, THAT didn’t help jhfaskjjfsa

tommy is on a bit of a knife edge with niki in this fic. niki’s in this state of “ok, he’s annoying whatever, i’m moving on”, but all tommy knows is that she tried to kill him that one time, disappeared off the face of the map, joined a book club with two people who definitely do not like him, and now is just acting weirdly mellow and polite. she is not someone he wants near wilbur bc what the fuck is she gonna do? what is he gonna do? who knows. he’s frustrated that niki doesn’t seem to acknowledge how he’s feeling (especially bc once upon a time she would have been someone he trusted to acknowledge them - they were friends, they fought together) and he’s taking a big step by telling someone about his concerns here, especially bc tommy doesn’t really like talking about them at all. he wouldn’t be saying absolutely anything to niki if he didn’t truly believe she should stay away from wilbur, even if he’s wrong about him. (sometimes i think i write tommy as a little too emotionally mature here but it all goes out the window when wilbur’s brought up. idk if that balances it out)

ok onto niki: this is the first she has actually heard of limbo! she’s only just come around to the fact that resurrection is possible at all. death is kind of a touchy subject for niki both in general and re: wilbur in the fic - she’s coming off of a period in her life where suicidal ideation was, uh, a big thing (whether you want to read that into canon or not is subjective, that’s just the angle i went with in this fic). the sudden existence of a life after death, miserable as it is - and whether she really believes in such a place, when it only exists in tommy and wilbur’s words - that is a lot of information for her to absorb all at once. death is a weird connection point for tommy and niki here, coming right off of the fact that they’ve just acknowledged each other having those problems - tommy, out of, yknow, altruism, would very much like to keep niki out of that place, and niki is quietly reckoning with the fact that that is where she would have sent him. the concept of limbo from the perspective of a character with no experience of it, even secondhand, is so interesting to me like what kind of eldritch location would you feel like you’re living in asghjkl

(also - i gotta be honest the jealousy angle here but mostly when she’s talking later about dream not deserving wilbur’s companionship kinda came out after this post came across my dash while writing. whoops /j)

-

fun fact, this is the very first snippet of bitter that i ever wrote! all the way back in may!! this is like the moment of the fic - it's where the miscommunication that niki and wilbur have been having is shattered entirely - and so sticking the landing was uhhh kinda important to me lol.

wilbur's entire being in this fic is basically consumed by L'Manberg - he equates his self worth to it entirely. in his eyes, everyone (rightfully) hates him because of what he did to L'Manberg, because L'Manberg was corrupted and he himself with it, etc. niki tries to tell herself this, and while it definitely does form part of her issues with him, it was the betrayal that causes her this much pain - that he seemingly brushed her and their friendship off entirely when he supposedly left her for dead in manberg. because here is what we as the audience know: wilbur couldn’t leave niki in trouble when he heard her life was in danger, even when he was trying to find the button (pretty much the only thing he sees himself as having left at this point) and so he returned. here is what it looks like from niki’s perspective: wilbur told her to wait in manberg until it was safe to come to pogtopia, laid the place with TNT, went to blow up the place, and only returned when he couldn’t find the detonator (and then the first thing she saw him do in pogtopia was encourage the pit behaviour but that’s not what we’re talking about asdfgh). that is massive miscommunication and it’s been brewing between them for months - to make a quirky little reference to the title, niki has been carrying that anger with her so long it's gone bitter. it was never just about l’manberg with niki - not that anger, not her and wilbur’s friendship (hence the little flashback earlier in the fic, bc niki’s relationship to anarchism and statehood or statelessness juxtaposed with her friendships with wilbur and eret - she loves l’manberg bc she loves wilbur, but she loves eret too and those national ties don’t undermine that - is Real Interesting to me) - so when wilbur asks what else there could possibly be (because in his mind, what else could she have bothered staying around for?), she just fucking breaks.

“Niki freezes. Stock still, unable to move, unable to breathe, ice threading its way through her gut...with slow-dawning horror, she can feel hot tears welling up behind her eyes” - prose discussion time! heat and cold are two big throughlines in this fic - particularly for niki, cold is what she is. admittedly when i started with it i mostly wanted to subvert hot = angry and cold = dead but i kinda ended up enjoying this take on it for what it is instead of just as a subversion (also i like the idea of revived people running hot, their bodies r working hard to keep em going). she’s holding onto her feelings and refusing to deal with them, she’s frozen over. descriptions of cold are key to niki’s mental state throughout the fic - cold weight on her chest, feelings of frostbite when she and wilbur hug the first time, ice cold water during the dinner scene, waking up in the cold flat, etc. this was an attempt at describing a more visceral feeling of like, when you’re really mad and you can just feel the adrenaline running through your veins. always felt more cold than hot to me. when she starts to cry, the facade she’s been putting on is finally thawing out and cracking the ice she’s buried her feelings under. (also gives an excuse to write warm comforting hugs towards the end /hj). it’s a loss, it’s catharsis, it’s a whole mess.

and ofc this is all news to wilbur and he feels terrible, because as unintentional as it was, he really really hurt her - because the destruction of l’manberg fucking sucked but above all else wilbur hurt the people he loved because they loved him so much and not in spite of it, because they cared about him so deeply and his death was a massive blow to them. this hasn’t even dawned on him, because how could it? he respects deeply niki (lowkey respects her opinion more than his own at this point) so he has to listen, because it’s niki (“and he looks at Niki the same way he does whenever her voice is being drowned out in a crowd - the way he does when he wants to hear her, when he wants to know what she has to say” - because he does), and what she says fucking floors him. in his eyes, he failed her by putting her in danger and then by destroying her home - the idea that she valued him and their friendship so much flies entirely over his head until this moment, and he is forced to re-evaluate the mindset that has motivated him since… basically since pogtopia! the way i write wilbur is like… yes, he’s one of niki’s closest friends and he’s more aware of her insecurities and issues than most (which is why he does always take the time to listen to her, etc) but he does over-idealise her a bit. tbf, i think he does to some extent with everyone (calling tubbo strong on the anniversary stream, for example). also the fact that he really wasn’t around for niki’s lowest moments as a character! he still thinks of her the way she was in l’manberg - confident, steadfast, respected - and this moment shatters that for him as he realises exactly what effect he and his death had on her and everyone else, not just by his actions, but because they loved him and cared for him so deeply.

sorry that this got horrifically long!! and thank you so much for sending snippets in <3333

[deactivatedpermanently]

Fat Bastard Girl | Robb Stark

Could you maybe do a Robb Stark imagine where the reader is insecure about her weight and he comforts her?

Requested by: Anonymous

(A/N: I really hope this was alright; I’ve never really written anything based on a request before, but there’s a first time for everything I suppose! Also, if you’re offended by explicit language (which I doubt you are if you like Game of Thrones) then probably skip this one.)

Summary: When you, a swordfighter loyal to the Starks, follow Robb to war, many of the soldiers manage you feel insecure about yourself. Robb steps in and comforts you.

By the age of 3, you had a sword in your hand. Sitting idly by and simply just marvelling at your half-brothers and their immaculate swordsmanship wasn’t enough to satisfy you. So, with your father’s permission, your second eldest half-brother (Gared Laurent), the legitimate son of former knight Lord Regalt Laurent, taught you to how to fight. He was just 15 at the time, but he, like you, was a prodigy with a sword. However, unlike you, he wasn’t Lord Laurent’s bastard.

You had been raised in the keep of Herely Heath since infancy, following the death of your biological mother during childbirth. Luckily, Lady Juliene Laurent (the woman you knew as ‘mother) didn’t resent you enough not to raise you; with 6 boys, she was happy to raise a girl. Unfortunately, her dream of dressing you up in pretty gowns and styling your hair in a beautiful way was soon dashed when she realised that you were different. You wore your brothers’ old clothes  due to loathing the long, girly dresses your mother insisted you wore. Your hair was often made messy by the wind and rain in which you insisted in playing. Your personality was more brash and confident than what was expected of a young girl, and the daughter of a lord. 

The commoners, unlike your family, seemed to judge you and mock you to themselves for who you were. You heard their whispers about you, the chubby bastard being raised like the legitimate child of a lord and lady. Most other lords and ladies would be disgusted that their daughter, illegitimate or not, wanted to fight, but, instead, your father and mother were surprisingly supportive of your choices, even when commoners and several other lords and ladies passed judgement upon you.

As you learned how to fight with a sword from such a young age, you became easily one of the best sword-fighters in Westeros. Though you weren’t as good as Jaime Lannister, you could certainly give him a run for his money. Like your half-brothers, your skills were on par with that of an accomplished knight. That’s why when you turned 11, instead of marrying you off to a wealthy prospective lord, your father decided to send you off to Winterfell to begin serving his old friend, Ned Stark.

Though you were a bastard, you were still the daughter of a Lord. Your father insisted that you were escorted to Winterfell, less than a day’s travel on horseback away from Herely Heath, by three members of his guard, but you insisted he let you travel alone because, in your words: “A true fighter need not be protected.”

Your arrival at Winterfell was a welcome one by all of the Starks. You were the same age as Robb and Jon, both of whom initially doubted your abilities as a sword fighter. With Lord Stark’s permission, you engaged in combat with both of them and won within half a minute. While Jon revered you as a worthy opponent, Robb was mesmerised by you. With the tip of your blade to his throat and your foot resting on his torso, Robb looked up at you with complete admiration. From that moment, you were close with both the Snow boy and Stark boy, even if one viewed you in a whole different light to the other. The fact that you were a bastard always helped you relate to Jon and be close with him and have a strong, platonic bond, but you could surprisingly connect with Robb, especially when he requested that you teach him how to be a better fighter.

When you and Robb were 14, Robb gained a better understanding of you than he ever had before. He learned why you were the way that you were.

It was late at night, and you and Robb were training by fire light. Yet again, you had him pinned to the ground.

“Your stance made you lose balance.” you informed him, extending your hand to him to help him up. “And, you were holding your sword too low down, so I could kick it out of your hand. If I wanted to kill you, I could’ve killed you. Imagine: Robb Stark killed by a fat bastard girl.”

“Alright; no need to keep bringing it up.” Robb muttered, sitting up and taking your hand. “You always do that.”

“Do what?” you asked bluntly, pulling him up with a little bit of difficulty.

“Tell me that you could’ve killed me and that you beat me and then say you’re a ‘fat bastard girl’.” Robb answered.

“You’d be smug about it too if you were a fat bastard girl defeating the legitimate son of a lord.” you said, folding your arms. 

Rob frowned and looked at you, a bemused expression on his scuffed-up face. He was silent, something in the back of his mind telling him that you weren’t finished talking.

“If I wish to wield a sword and pierce the flesh of my enemies instead of be forced please a wealthy man in a loveless marriage and produce a dozen children, I have to prove myself as more than Lord Laurent’s fat bastard girl to everyone whose watching me.” You glanced up at Rob. “What’s the eldest son of Lord Eddard Stark got to prove when nobody’ll judge him for what he was born as?”

Robb was silent still. Yet again, he sensed that you weren’t quite done, and he was alright with that. He’d never thought of you, the brave and cunning (Y/N) Laurent, as just a fat bastard girl, but he knew, deep down, he’d never be able to prove to you that you weren’t just that.

“I was born as a fat bastard girl, but I want to die as more than that.” you responded. “When I die, I want to be remembered as something more than just Laurent’s fat bastard girl.”

You were done, Robb thought to himself. It was his turn to speak.

“Is that why you picked up a sword?” Robb asked.

“Of course not. I was three; I didn’t care about honour and victory when I was three. I just thought sword fighting looked better than drinking tea with mother.” you replied, causing Robb to snort a laugh.

There was a brief moment of silence.

“You’ll always be more than a fat bastard girl to me, (Y/N).” Robb stated.

“I know that.” you said in an unconvincing response. “It’s getting late. We’d better go back inside before your mother shouts at us.”

From that day on, Robb was aware that, in spite of how you presented yourself, you were insecure. You weren’t as self-assured as you acted, but you only broke down in private. That was until you had followed Robb to war.

Robb had appointed you second-in-command after him, knowing you could and would be a good leader.

However, the incredulous men who gawked, sneered and laughed at you didn’t share the same idea. For one, you were a woman. Somehow, your lack of testicles meant that you were unworthy of having any authority over them. Two, you were fat. Being fat meant that they just couldn’t resist the urge to not mock you. They didn’t even have to know you were a bastard to make up their minds that you weren’t good enough to lead them. Even when you’d slaughtered one of your foes before their eyes, they didn’t take you seriously. To you, they represented everyone, which meant that no one would take you seriously as a fighter.

They’d literally snort at you when they thought you weren’t listening. They’d roll their eyes at you when they thought you weren’t looking. Within weeks, you were sick of it.

You snapped.

“Any man to show me any disrespect regarding my appearance gets his heart torn out by their own sword! Do I make myself clear?” you yelled.

They all cackled at you. You clenched your jaw. 

A young man sat close to you made a pig squealing noise, causing a louder eruption of laughter.

You stormed over to him, effortlessly unsheathed his sword and pointed the tip of the blade at his chest, now rapidly rising and falling in panic. The laughter was drowned out by silence. The young man looked up at you, his eyes filled with the fear of a man about to die.

“Didn’t you hear me?” you demanded. “Or could you just not understand me?”

“I-I...Um-um-” he stammered out. “I-I...W-well-”

“I’m sorry; am I not making any sense? Am I speaking in Valyrian?” you demanded.

“N-No! I-I-I’m really s-sorry, m’lady-” he stuttered out, tears spilling from his eyes. “P-Please, don’t-”

“I could skewer you and make an example out of you, or I could show you mercy and be weakened by your pathetic display of grovelling.” you said, pretending to think aloud. “Laurents, legitimate or not, are never ones to spew empty threats. If I don’t tear your heart out with your own sword, I wouldn’t be a very good Laurent, would I?”

“P-please, m’lady. I beg for mercy!” the man pleaded, body wracking with sobs.

“Only the weak show mercy. I told you that anyone else to show disrespect towards my appearance would have his heart extracted by their own sword, did I not?” you demanded.

“Y-y-yes, m’lady. B-But, I was only j-joking-”

“Oh, my sincerest apologies then, sweetheart! I didn’t realise you were only joking.” you responded, thick sarcasm laced in your voice. “Joking or not, it’s still disrespect. All my life, disposable, loathsome fools like you have disrespected me because of my weight. Even when threatened with death, idiots will still do all they can to wrench a laugh from those around them. When I explicitly stated defiance would lead to death, why should I spare you?”

“Because, I forbid you from doing so.” an authoritative voice said, approaching you from behind.

“Robb? What are you doing?” you questioned, trying to sound as confident as possible.

Robb looked at the young man whose chest was being prodded by the sword in your hand, then looked up as if to address anyone with a cold look in his eyes. “If any of you refuse to show Lady Laurent your respect, you’ll have to answer to me. Is that understood?” Robb loudly demanded.

“Yes, Lord Stark!” the soldiers shouted in unison. 

Robb grabbed the sword from your hand and threw it to the ground. He grabbed your wrist and practically dragged you in tow as he marched you to his now-empty tent.

“What was that?” he demanded, folding his arms as he glared at you.

“They were all being cunts to me, making pig noises and commenting about me behind my back, so I threatened them with death. That scrawny little prick disobeyed me, so I was prepared to skewer him.” you shrugged, suppressing the urge to just break down about everything that had been overwhelming you as of late.

“You can’t just kill people who mock you, (Y/N).” Robb sighed irritably

“Why not? I have a sword, skill, authority and a general disdain for those expendable cunts. I could massacre half of them if I pleased.” you sneered bitterly, looking Robb in the eyes.

“I know you, (Y/N). I also know you weren’t going to go through with ending that boy’s life. You don’t have to act like you can choose if those men out there live or die.” he said, approaching you as he placed his hands on your shoulders.

You looked away from him, folding your arms. “Shut up.”

“If you think they’re just expendable cunts, why let them get into your head?” Robb questioned.

You felt tears brim your eyes as you bit your bottom lip and said nothing. 

“(Y/N).” Robb said firmly.

You exhaled. “I’ve been treated like shit since I was a kid because of who I am. I thought having authority would earn me some respect, but still they view me as nothing more than a fat bastard girl.” you explained, tears falling. “If they can’t see that I’m not just a fat bastard girl, how am I supposed to convince myself that that’s not just what I am?”

You felt a firm grip find itself around your waist, the warmth of Robb’s furs warming your freezing cheeks. Reluctantly, you wrapped your arms around Robb’s torso. A few moments later, he pulled away just enough so he could look at your face.

“(N/N), you’ve never just been a fat bastard girl.” Robb assured you, softening from the stoic facade he’d worn to intimidate the soldiers. “I learned that when you beat me in that fight when we were kids. (Y/N), never let those people make you feel anything less than what you actually are.”

“What am I actually, then?” you asked incredulously, damp cheeks heating up. Robb holding you so firmly made you feel a little more secure. Of course, you didn’t need Robb to protect you, nor could he raise your self-esteem. But, he’d always been good at making you feel a little better than crap. 

“You’re a confident fighter, a strong opponent, a beautiful woman.” Robb responded. The sincerity in his speech and the emotion in his eyes that bore into your soul was enough to melt any reluctance to accept his words as anything other than true.

“Don’t use my vulnerability to get me into bed, Robb.” you insisted jokingly in an attempt to show him that what he’d said had made you feel a little better.

He chuckled and smiled faintly as you, wiping away your tears with the back of his fingers. Of all the people you’d met in your time away from home, Robb had been the one to see you in this state the most. He was never annoyed nor inconvenienced by it. In fact, he felt privileged to be the one you trusted enough to come to in times of distress. 

“I’ve been in love with you since the first time you pointed a sword at my throat. Did you know that, (N/N)?” Robb said, not entirely thinking. Still, he was bold enough to speak such words. 

You shrugged, masking your surprise and childish urge to fangirl. “I suppose so.” you responded. “Before I say that I love you too, can I tell you something else?”

“Of course.” he replied.

“Don’t ever undermine me in front of anyone again, or I’ll skewer you like a pig being roasted over a fire.” you said with a smirk, half-joking.

“Understood, my lady.” he replied with a smirk, half-frightened.

[soulmate-game]

Awesome, cool (on RE: Marivel). Caaaan we get... uh, Soulmate Game version of marvel/ml crossover? Marinette x Peter? Or just Marinette meeting Peter via Dr. Strange in your Lady Strange AU (post-endgame maybe??). Take your pick (or do both?) and thank you if you do write them!!

MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Yes.

This is a crossover between my Lady Strange AU and my Soulmate-Game AU, but since this is a different pairing it receives a different bond. I hope you like it!

—*—*—*—*—*

“I think somebody drew on me in my sleep,” was the first thing he told his Aunt and Uncle, who just blinked at him for a long moment with their toothbrushes half in their mouths. Peter was supposed to be getting ready for school in his own room, but instead, well.

His guardians’ eyes landed on the two childish, but extremely clean doodles on the top of Peter’s shoulders. They were ladybugs, one in red ink and the other blue. Only the outline was colored at all.

The little boy was tearing up.

“I don’t know how they e-ended up here. Why would s-somebody draw on me? It’s mean. Is this the boogeyman? Does…”

He was interrupted by May and Ben’s laughter, shrinking into himself as the adults tried to get ahold of themselves. Ben was the first to sober up, sinking to his knees and carefully laying a gentle hand on Peter’s naked arm, making sure not to come close to the new mark on his shoulder. The poor boy had stopped putting on a shirt altogether in favor of worrying over the doodles.

“No, no,” Ben soothed, running his other hand through Peter’s cinnamon hair. “No boogeyman. This is a good thing, Petey.”

He sniffled, looking up at his father figure warily, a hopeful spark in his eye. “It is?”

“Yeah. Do you remember what we told you about soul marks?” He asked his nephew, who was starting to calm down. The boy nodded, pushing his thick glasses back up his nose from where they had started to slip.

“Almost everyone has one,” he started to recite, furrowing his brows to try and remember what he had been told.

“And they can come in hundreds of different ways,” May filled in, kneeling beside her husband. “Some people have a picture or a name on them to represent their Destined. Some people are colorblind, or missing just one color until they meet their other half.”

“Some people can switch bodies or hear a song in their head that tells them how their soulmate is feeling,” Ben agreed. “There are tons of Bonds. Not everyone has a physical mark. But you,” he nodded to the ladybugs on his nephew’s shoulders. “You do.”

Peter started panicking again. “Oh no, I have two soulmates? What am I gonna do? What if they don’t like me, how can I love two people, I—“

“Relax, honey,” May rustled Peter’s hair with a soft smile. “I don’t think you have two, I think your mark is more complicated than that. Look, the ladybugs are exactly the same except for the color. The mark will probably do something exciting later, when you meet them.”

“Something exciting?” Peter parroted, making Ben chuckle.

“Yeah, but for now they are just cute pictures. Pictures which better be covered up by a shirt soon, or you’ll be late to school bud.”

“Ack!” He had forgotten he was still shirtless. “Sorry Uncle Ben!” Peter Benjamin Parker dashed back to his room as fast as his seven-year-old legs would carry him.

—*—*—*—*—*

Seven years later.

Marinette hummed, analyzing her reflection. Her halter top looked nice, a new design of hers. Tikki hovered near her, similarly happy with the clothing. And then the Kwami squeaked in dismay when her holder reached for foundation.

“Woah woah woah, what are you doing Marinette?!” The little god asked, tempted to take the makeup away. “The shirt makes your soul marks stand out so beautifully! I’m not a huge fan of spiders, but yours are so cute!”

The pigtailed girl blushed bright red, looking into the mirror to see both of the little doodles on her shoulders at the same time. They really were adorable, one cartoony spider on the top of each shoulder, one red and one blue. She didn’t wear the crop top to show them off though. She wore it because she needed to feel confident, and her usual blouses weren’t cutting it. She wanted to feel powerful, free, anything to escape the feeling of water droplets on her skin and the sight of people pinned by buildings, drowning. Blue skin, glassy eyes—

Marinette’s shook her head, taking a deep breath. The halter top she was wearing was a carefully, artistically dyed swirl of baby blue and baby pink. Strategic gathers in the cloth swirled the two colors around one another, bringing them to a small pinpoint of pale purple at the very point where the cloth had first been pinched and curled.

It was whimsical, it was childish and mature all at once. It was what Hope felt like to Marinette. The very thing she needed to try and heal from the whole Syren disaster a few weeks earlier.

“I like them too,” Marinette finally responded to her Kwami, running her fingers over the blue spider, the one on her right shoulder. It had completely vanished when she got home after the Syren attack, proving her father right from when he had told her all those years ago that her Bond was likely more than just a few doodles. “But only my parents know about them. I know the Miraculous suits are pretty much indestructible, but I don’t want to take any chances with this crazy world. If my shoulders ever get exposed while I’m Ladybug, I don’t want anyone to be able to connect that to Marinette,” she explained, slowly and regretfully spreading foundation over both marks and spritzing setting spray over it so that the makeup wouldn’t move anytime soon.

She knew why her blue spider had temporarily vanished. She had thought maybe she had just been imagining it before, when she would occasionally be in the middle of an anxiety attack and think that her blue spider was a little paler than usual. Or on the few occasions when she was going days without sleep, or overextending herself for her friends and her red spider would look a little dull.

She wondered what that meant for the person on the other end of their connection.

—*—*—*—*—*

And then she found out. She was fifteen, and it was about five in the morning. Marinette jolted out of bed, feeling a searing heat on her right shoulder. Throwing her shirt off, she saw it— her red spider was glowing. She felt herself trembling, but she didn’t know why. Tears were raining down her face, but she wasn’t sad. Her hands felt oddly wet and sticky, but they were completely clean.

The teenager shared a long, bewildered look with Tikki before carefully letting her fingers brush over the red spider. And she understood.

Anger. Guilt. He’s blaming himself. He’s dead. My fault. My fault. Blood. Is she feeling this? I’m making her feel this. Stupid. Worthless. Mistake. Mistake.

Marinette pried her hand away from the mark, gasping from the influx of emotions. She didn’t know details, probably to protect the identity of the person on the other end of the Bond, but she got the gist of it. The longer she had stayed on the connection, the more lucid thoughts she got straight from the boy himself. None of it had been promising.

She was able to surmise this; someone close to him died, or was dying. Her hands probably felt sticky because of the literal blood on his. Oh Kwami, he probably saw them die right in front of him. Probably held them.

And there was no Cure to reverse it for him.

But the most important part was that he was blaming himself for it, and Marinette couldn’t stand it. She ground her teeth, and touched the mark again with full intention of making sure he knew it wasn’t his fault. That he wasn’t worthless, and that she wasn’t mad at him for this.

But nothing happened. She tried touching the blue spider, but nothing happened. She tried meditating, hoping they had a mental connection—nothing. Absolutely. Nothing.

The heat was gone from her shoulder, the connection over.

Marinette raged at her inability to help a boy she never met.

—*—*—*—*—*

Four months later, she knew the situation was about to be reversed. She stared down at the old man in front of her, frail and weak but forcing himself to stand and hold the heavy box in the air in front of him. The weight made his twig-thin arms shake, and the pigtailed girl quickly snatched the item before it or the man holding it dropped.

“Master,” she whispered, her eyes frantically searching his. “Don’t. The magic, Tikki’s magic, can help. I’ve been practicing. Don’t—“

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, daughter of Sabine Cheng and biological daughter of Steven Strange,” the old man started, making Marinette snap her mouth shut with the force of his words. She didn’t know how he found out about her biological father, but didn’t bother asking. It wasn’t important, and he had too many possible ways of finding out through magic. No, his words right now were the only things she found worth focusing on in that moment. “I, Wang Fu, find myself too old to carry on my duties as Grand Guardian. But you are the best student I could have ever asked for. A True Ladybug with a soul of creation, a disciplined mind, and an open heart. I name you as my heir, and as the new Grand Guardian. Do you accept the transference of my title?”

Marinette didn’t want to. The wise eyes boring back into hers said that he knew, that he would understand if she refused. But Marinette also knew that refusing would not grant her the happy ending she wanted from this situation, only regret. His eyes said that he knew that, too.

“I accept,” she didn’t know how she was able to croak that out, but she managed somehow. “Wang Fu, I will gladly take on the title of Lady Strange, the new Grand Guardian. I vow to protect as you have protected, to guard the innocent and punish those who try to upset balance with the Miraculous. To keep the Universe as peaceful as possible with my power.”

“Then let my wisdom become yours,” Fu finished the sacred speech, closing his eyes as a bright green mist was born from his feet. It grew, sliding up his body until it exited his head in a giant luminous cloud like a swarm of fireflies on a misty night. Marinette refused to close her eyes, stubbornly keeping her gaze on Master Fu as the magical green fog covered her own body and sank into her skin. The knowledge of the Guardian’s language and traditions appeared in her mind, along with the rest of Fu’s wisdom and experience with the Miraculous.

“Young lady? Are you alright, you’re crying.”

Marinette took a deep breath, her eyes still locked onto the brown orbs that no longer recognized her. Slowly, she put the miracle box down on his bedside table.

“Yes, I’m fine. How do you feel?”

The old man wobbled, and the young girl had to catch him before he fell. “Let’s get you into bed,” she decided for him, getting a nod and a grateful smile in return. It was after he was in his bed and his eyes were starting to droop that he spoke again, this time in Mandarin.

Which Marinette now spoke, like a final gift from him to her.

“Are you my granddaughter?”

Marinette bit her lip, placing a gentle hand on Fu’s shoulder before responding in the same language;

“That’s right.”

She didn’t need a heart monitor to know when his pulse stopped. She could feel the magic of life drain from him, the Creation that made him who he was disappearing from his form. She dropped, her legs no longer able to support her weight, and sobbed into his comforter.

It happened then, she could feel a phantom hand on her right shoulder. Trying to provide comfort but not able to speak.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I want you here. But thank you. For everything. Thank you.

She didn’t know if she was trying to send those thoughts to Fu or to the boy trying to help her despite never having met her.

—*—*—*—*—*

This is part 1, because Tumblr doesn’t allow me to post the whole thing. Stupid word limits >:[ part 2 right here 

[honeym4rk]

station (jjh)

college! jaehyun x reader word count: 3.0k summary: four times you find yourself alone with jaehyun at a bus station.

There is comfort in the silence.

With every step you take, there is a crunch of fallen, juniper leaves at your feet. Your canvas tote bag is looped around your shoulder, your fingers clinging to the straps like it would shield you from the awkwardness of the current circumstances.

He’s got his hands hidden in the cavity of his hoodie. His knuckle cracking is sporadic, and you cringe at just how many times they’ve made an encore in the past two minutes.

You really should have begged Mark to tag along and leave the shindig so that this wouldn’t have happened- but alas, the boy was still hooked by the prospect of winning the next round of Mario Kart against Donghyuck. ‘It does some good to my self-esteem,’ he’d said. 

So here you are, sauntering bashfully to the bus stop with Jaehyun.

“So, uh- what bus are you taking?” You muster up the courage to speak up after a few minutes of painful reticence. 

“I’d have to take 922 or 153 from the opposite stop to get back to hall,” he sighs. It’s clear that he reciprocates the weird, distinctive tension here.

“And you?” He faces you with his raised eyebrows and you’re baffled by the sudden eye contact made. Your eyes dart elsewhere.

“Oh, I’m taking 922 from here.” You nod your head imperceptibly at the bus stop ahead of you.

A few metres away, there’s a zebra crossing, and you thank your lucky stars that you’re finally about to part ways. Oh, you’re sure Jaehyun is a nice person and all, but that doesn’t change the fact that the unspoken, kind enmity in the air is capable of being taut so hard around your neck that you asphyxiate. 

Ten more steps. Come on.

Five steps. 

Three steps.

“I’ll see you next ti-” 

Yet he doesn’t stop at the crossing. Instead, he continues his stride in tandem with yours towards the station. You stop in your tracks, slowly gesturing towards the beaconing street light with the hand you raised to bid adieu. 

“Aren’t you going to, you know..?” Eyes hinting at the yellow streaks of light, at the bus stop across the road, anywhere away from his own. Jaehyun notices your halt and follows suit.

“Well, I mean, Mark did ask me to see that you got home safe....”

You immediately wrack your brain for an appropriate response to his chivalry. It’s unclear how you should react; he really caught you by surprise. And from the way he’s gnawing at his inner lip and raising a hand to scratch the nape of his neck, you infer that he’s abashed too. All you manage is a small, “Oh,” as more silence ensues, before you start to blabber,

“No, no, thanks, Jaehyun, but it’s really fine, you don’t have to.”

His lips are taut into a firm, straight line and he lets out a surreptitious hum.

“Let me just wait ‘til you board your bus. Is that okay? It’s getting pretty late.”

You want to vehemently object. 

And you’re about to, but you let out a consenting “Yeah, alright.”

He’s invading your desiderated solace- yet something about his offer seems so genuine and saccharine that you comply out of curiosity. You’d heard things about Jaehyun around in school before, good things, especially seeing that he was well acquainted with your friends like Mark, but you’d never really encountered him until tonight, thanks to Donghyuck’s birthday celebration. Being a Linguistics student, fate hadn’t really presented many opportunities for him to meet someone majoring in Pharmacy. 

Therefore- you think to yourself- it wouldn’t be so bad. It’s unlikely that you’ll actually talk to him again, since you’ll probably never be within a radius of at least ten metres from him again. It’s alright, it’s okay. You decide to let him be a gentleman.

So you bask in the quietude shrouding the two of you, as you sit on the metal form, awaiting the arrival of a yearned 922. 

After all, there is the slightest hint of comfort in the silence.

There is also comfort in the familiarity.

You’re sure there’s a sense of déjà vu. It’s a similar scene to what had ensued a few weeks ago, at least, and you’re definitely surprised to be here again, with him . However, you’ve both abandoned the multi-layered cake of unease. It’s almost been completely devoured now. Fortunately.

Jaehyun’s chuckling relentlessly- nearly doubled over laughing- as you recount the earlier occurrences of the Friday night. 

“Yeah, no, but I’d give anything to see the look on Donghyuck’s face again.” His eyes crinkle into small crescents as he runs a hand through his silver hair.

“He looked so confident that it was going to work and I’d already told him otherwise, but I really don’t know what he expected.” 

Tonight, there had been an effort to study in Donghyuck’s apartment; considering the looming exam season. This purpose was indeed fulfilled, to some extent. 

Then Donghyuck, feeling rather ravenous, decided that he wanted to indulge in a quick and easy two-ingredient Oreo mug cake. The video tutorial truly looked too good to be true- you’d seen multiple YouTubers debunk the content-farm produced recipes. 

The wide-eyed boy was too desperate, however, as he credulously decided to fill his mug with crushed oreos and milk to the brim. He swore that it looked and sounded promising until a loud Pop! reverberated in the kitchen 30 seconds into heating.

Everyone gathered around to watch Donghyuck cry over his spilt milk, literally, as his appliance perpetually emitted smoke, its glass door burst open. Burnt mounds of moist black and white cookies were thrown at the white, metal walls of the microwave. Donghyuck fanned the plumes of smoke hastily.

“It looks like a volcano erupted.” Mark added, coughing, as he tried to swallow the chuckle bubbling at the back of his throat.

“Dude- I don’t want to say I told you so but,” You began to implore, before Donghyuck interjected.

“Maybe I should just try again, I think the microwave setting just wasn’t right.” 

And so he did- but to no avail.

The two of you approach the tiny station side by side, and you relish the warm, fuzzy feeling establishing in your stomach. Not quite butterflies, but maybe more like a tiny sprout popping out of the ground.

“To be fair, though, it didn’t taste half as bad as it looked.”

You snort. “Sure, because it’s literally sugar and milk with a dash of hidden carcinogens.” 

He lets out a low chortle. Jaehyun nails the bellowing dad laugh right down to a T, and some part of you finds this endearing.

A flash of bright light emerges as you look up from your feet. 922 has arrived and you’re rummaging through your bag for your bus card. 

“I feel like I left my card at Donghyuck’s, shit,”

The bus halts. 

“Here, use mine, I’ve got a spare.” Jaehyun offers without a second thought, pulling his card from the pocket of his denim jeans. 

“Go on, the bus driver’s waiting.”

You would have thought this through for a little while longer, but he was right. A scowl that said ‘Stop wasting my damn time,’ is plastered on the driver’s face, and it urges you to carefully pick the card slotted between his fingers. 

“Thanks so much- I’ll return it tomorrow, or something.” Your eyebrows furrow together and you clench your teeth together in a grimace.

“Yeah! Yeah, whenever. Good night, Y/N. Get home safe,”

“You too, thanks again!”

Boarding the bus hastily, you wave at him through the glass door as the bus sets off. He doesn’t leave until you’re out of sight.

You can’t help but grin as you examine the portrait on his student pass. He’s handsome, skin clear and glossy, hair parted such that there are a bunch of strands obstructing his forehead. It’s black in this image. You wonder how many colours it's been dyed. His dimples replicate the poked slime in the myriad of videos you’ve seen, and his cheekbones are incredibly prominent. 

It dawns on you that you don’t have his number, or follow him on Instagram, or have any means to contact him at all. You guess that you’ll have to fish something from Mark, but Jaehyun seems to beat you to it.

Unknown, [2340]: hey this is jaehyun lol hope you get back safe :-)

A sudden flash of the many possible outcomes this could entail breezes past your mind. You’re quite uncertain about how this will play out, and you unlock your phone to reply.

Y/N, [2341]: hii hahah thanks again! i can return your card tomorrow, just lmk where i can drop by

Jaehyun, [2341]: yeah sure, i think i’ll be cooped up in starbucks doing work w my friends lol 

Jaehyun, [2341]: u can join if ud like :o

There is comfort in the unknown.

There is comfort in the noise.

Your whole herd of boisterous friends are walking uphill from yet another study session at Donghyuck’s- there’s been quite a number of them since the first. You’re honestly amused by how many people can fit in his apartment. The study group has expanded from a mere four to a whopping seven people in total.

Thankfully, there haven’t been any microwave oven explosions since then, but you’ve had your good share of fun and company, and more importantly, productivity. 

The pack of young adults currently divulging the extensive, latest gossip and hall horror stories, you and Jaehyun stray further behind. You’re trying to listen in and pick apart information, but you’ve joined the conversation a bit too late for context. 

“Oh my god, Lia, you’re going to hate hearing this, but…” Jungwoo begins, his voice entering a decrescendo.

“But Jeno has a girlfriend? Yeah, I figured.” Lia wails. “I saw them together in the library the other day, being all cute and shit. My heart shattered .” She emphasises this by hitting Jungwoo’s shoulder out of pure frustration. 

“How long have they been together, though?” Ryujin quips, to which she gets a reply, but you try to drown out the rest of their conversation.

You tug at the arm of Jaehyun’s sweatshirt, and he leans closer to you as you query, “Who’s Jeno, again?”

“Cute dude that she keeps bumping into at hall, I think,” he mumbles. His words are semi-intelligible, because of the commotion right in front of you.

“Sorry? I didn’t catch that.” The infinite frequencies are hard to tune out, and it gets increasingly arduous to do so when Ryujin gasps.

“Oh shit, the bus is here!” Your friends are immediately ready to break into a sprint, but Jaehyun’s feet seem heavy as he continues to meander with you. 

“Jae, aren’t you coming? The next one’s in thirty minutes!” Jungwoo shouts as they begin to dash across the road.

“It’s fine, go on! I’m just a little lazy. See you!” Jaehyun dismisses him with the wave of his extended hand, and receives an incredulous look. The lame excuse confuses you, bamboozles you, but you wave goodbye to your friends anyway.

It’s been long since you’ve been caught alone here at the bus stop with Jaehyun- you usually head home with Mark every Friday. He’s not here, though. He’s crashed at Donghyuck’s for tonight.

“Uhm, what was that ?” You chuckle nervously, the little sprout in your belly magically reappearing. Truth be told, after the many lighthearted, late-night messages exchanged over the past few weeks, and after unravelling Jaehyun bit by bit, the sprout has grown into a pocket-sized garden. It brings its own butterflies, but you don’t quite have the audacity to admit this. There’s a different kind of trickiness lingering in the air tonight.

“Well, you know- Mark…and it’s- it’s getting late, kinda.” He’s timorous tonight. Under the luminescence of the bus station’s lamps, you see the pink tint land on the tips of his ears, something you’ve learnt happens when he’s rather shy. 

“I wanted to ask you something, too, though.”

“Okay, shoot.” You take a seat. He sits a modest distance away from you, cracking his knuckles instinctively.

“Well, I uhm, I’m not quite sure how you’ll react to this but,” he licks his lips.

“But?” You encourage him to carry on, staring as you await his continuation.

He looks as if he’s got the words at the tip of his tongue, the sea of sentences about to overflow from his mouth, and they’re spilling when he starts speaking again.

“Would you-” You listen intently, attempting to read his lips. However, he’s cut off by the booming wails of a velocious ambulance. You whip your head around to watch the vehicle pass by. 

Jaehyun breathes sharply, exhaling in frustration. The cries subside, so he tries again. 

“Y/N,” he clears his throat, and you face him once more.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“I was wondering if-” 

A fire truck zooms past the bus stop, and your attention is grabbed by the monotonous siren that raids your ears. Jaehyun notices your bus approaching, and he panics. The air-raid isn’t becoming distant; the truck’s obstructed by the imposing red-light flashing. There’s only so much time left to ask what he’s been dying to- and he can’t believe he’s getting cockblocked by the emergency services right now. 

You’re hearing Jaehyun spill a string of words but they’re incoherent- all you can seem to comprehend is the blaring repetitions that are relentless.

“What?!” You shout, fighting past the cacophony. “I can’t hear you!” You’re signing this to him, pointing to your ear and shaking your hand vigorously.

Your bus halts before you. Jaehyun’s in an absolute frenzy now. He doesn’t want to do this online. Something about hiding behind his screen sounds so ingenuine to him, and you’re already standing, shit, but he can’t win against the absolute pandemonium and doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the small crowd that’s alighted the bus, but he’s also not sure when he’ll get to talk to you in private like this again, 

So he clamours.

“Do You! Want To Go Out! With Me!” He’s cupping his large hands around his mouth, screaming into the makeshift amplifier with all his might, as you walk towards the front doors of the bus.

You look like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide open in disbelief as you gawk at the boy who’s sheepishly glancing at everyone and using his hand to defend himself from their stares. The butterflies that have erupted in you are merciless.

And then you burst into a fit of laughter- Jaehyun curses the sirens for piercing through such a pleasant sound- and you nod profusely, one foot already boarding the bus.

The glass doors shut close, and you’re enthusiastically gesturing to your handphone, waving at him. The bus whizzes away.

He’s shell-shocked, and he’s unable to will his hands in drawing his phone from his pocket. The sudden series of vibrations brings him back to his senses.

Y/N (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝),[2257]: WAIT ask me again

Y/N (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝), [2257]: idk if i heard u right

Jaehyun, [2258]: k

Y/N (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝), [2258]: dude come back </3

Y/N (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝), [2258]: YES lol

Y/N (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝), [2257]: yeeeeeeees

It heavily hinders Jaehyun that night, but there is comfort in the noise.

There is comfort in the isolation.

It’s only the blinding fluorescent lights and the cool breeze presenting company at the bus stop- you’re grateful that the occasional cars speeding by are helping you break down the very last walls of tension between the two of you, if there are any.

Whoosh. 

“I really enjoyed today.” He smiles and steals a quick glance at you. You’re at a different bus stop now- a month later and you’re amazed that you’ve gone out with Jaehyun at least three times now.

You catch the slight twinkle in his eyes as he scoots a whole foot nearer towards you on the cool metal bench. The distance between the two of you is closing slowly yet your heart rate is augmenting. It’s accelerating now- faster than any of the rambunctious vehicles that race down the road, their engines revving dirtily.

Whoosh. A black BMW zooms past you both and you take the opportunity to reciprocate the cheeky glimpse.

“Me too.”

There’s fumbling of fingers and twiddling of your thumbs before you notice the sudden influx of light and buzzing and realise that your bus has arrived. Pure languish rushes through every vein in your body- you don’t want this night to end.

Jaehyun begins to stand and shoots a quizzical expression when you don’t follow suit. 

“Let’s wait for the next one,” you grin, your legs swinging back and forth as you continue to glue yourself on the elevated seat.

The sound of his chuckle envelopes you into a warm hug- it’s deep, and strong, yet soft at the same time- and then you’re pulled to your feet by your wrists before he embraces you with confident hesitation too.

“Is this- it’s okay, right?” He just wants to be sure.

“Yeah- very.” You breathe, and his boyish smell fills your lungs. There is difficulty in naming what scented cologne he’s used today; but you devote no more attention. You just wallow in the tangy, mellow fragrance that has permeated your senses.

He’s got his arms coiled around your waist, his palm extended to press your back closer to him. You’re playing with the sharp, freshly cut hairs on the back of his neck. You run your fingers through them and he dives his head further into the crook of your neck. Jaehyun’s muffled voice is tickling your shoulder-

“Your hair smells really nice.” The corners of your lips edge upwards into an unrelenting grin.

“Thank God.”

There is comfort in Jaehyun.

[rebelliouslala]

Kim SeokJin

you were out for your morning run

because there was this new sports (?) team and u rly wanted to try out

but being insecure you decided to get fit

you were basically a bright red, glistening mess

so you took a “5″ minute break at the water fountain, and sit in the empty square, the sun barely rising

exhaustion kind of hitting

h a r d

but you hear someone scream and there’s a bunch of splashes and barking, your back getting wET????????

so you turn and there’s this really tall

ngl rly HANDSOME

but he’s drenched and he has sUCH

cute phat lips

in a pout

“hi”

you kind of wave and you notice the dozens of dogs he is leading as he they tackle him, barking

definitely waking u up from your daydream

You quickly get in and help him out

realizing hey maybe DONT watch this poor dude drown with dogs

“I-I’m so sorry, are you alright?”

“Fine, besides the fact I almost fucking died.”

You quickly give him your hoodie, and he takes off his shirt

okay maybe you check him out a little more

he’s strong built, with broad shoulders and a face of a king

“thank you, hey,” he suddenly freezes and looks at you

“don’t you order. . .a frap with extra cream, strawberry frosting and a dash of chocolate with a scone?”

you open your mouth, flabbergasted before it clicks

“You’re the waiter from. . .that cafe. Bulletproof Tea Spot, uhm, Jin?”

the man nods, and tosses his hair back, “Yeah. I own it. I often make the drinks and shit. Not going to lie, I like yours the best.”

you widen your eyes at his success, and see the dogs that are going near you, polite to ask for some attention

kneeling down, you pet them, “Oh, well thank you.”

he smiles gently, quietly thanking you as he picks up the smallest dogs, “Well, better give them back to their owners.”

“Do you need help?”

he just chuckles and shakes his head, “No, but next time you come around, I owe you.”

so as you often ran

every morning to try and catch him

you couldnt get your mind off him, he just

stained your mind, growing like a pretty, tall rose

however the thorns still stuck out, poking you at the lowest

you were still so insecure

mainly of your body :/

but you learned from the mornings, he walks the dogs every day

besides saturday

for da boyz

you waited at 5:55 am, right when the sun would rise to catch the tall, handsome boy walking 643728 dogs

“hey! i got them treats!”

“aw, how sweet of you, you made it here faster than me!” he smiles, gently nudging your arm

“yeah, i think im actually getting better,”

he pets some of the dogs, even letting you take some home

mainly the hyper ones

he asked if he can pay you

but no, you just smiled, saying the dogs gave you more of a workout

each time, he would always compliment you

“you know, i haven’t seen you at the cafe, only here,” he says, pouting and giving you a towel that he always brings for you

“well, i dont wanna break this routine, im trying to lose this to get into the team, i think i can do it”

he smiles warmly, and he gently whispers, “you dont have to change yourself for anyone, not even a team. but if you believe on doing this, im very happy, and youre being safe. once you get the results back, ill give you your favor back, and we can celebrate!”

you smile, the bright light showing your pink cheeks as you look away, “t-that sounds great” 

so, almost 2 weeks later

you walk in the cafe

to congratulate yourself for trying out

and fortunately u made it! :D

it wasnt the position you wanted but youre so happy to just have gotten in

jin was at the coffee bar, with a short little blonde boy, and another boy with long, wavy hair

The tall man looks over and smiles, and he hops over, going towards the small stage and mouthing “wait!”

the blonde boy smiles, “he’s been talking about you.”

the other dark haired boy nods, “yeah, never seen seokjin-hyung like that.”

you widen your eyes as they serve you your usual, with a small drawn smile on there with the chocolate

“but, why?”

“well-,” the blonde boy smiles, but the other boy clamps his hand over his mouth, “shh! jin said!”

you frown, “seokjin-?”

then you realize, he was, the actor.

a very wealthy boy from Korea, who majors in acting

you were meeting with him

every morning

sweating like you were in the desert for almost a month and a half

your stomach churns, leaving you to leave your drink there, just sitting down

a very small quiet boy from your trigonometry class is there, Yoongi

he says in the microphone, his voice deeper than you imagined,

which luckily drew you out of your worried thoughts.

“everyone please welcome the owner of the Bulletproof Tea Spot, Kim Seokjin.”

your lips betrayed your state of mind, taking note of the hoodie he wore when you both first met

he bows gently, “Good afternoon everyone. I have a special poem I wrote myself, thanks to Joon.”

People snap, and you forgot the first rule as you snap as well, mouthing what he was doing,

But his smooth voice overpowers over your whisper.

“Let’s take pictures,

Of you and I,

Letting out soft love purrs;

Oh can’t you see it?

Of you and I,

your head on mine, my heart going in a fit,

Oh when the star are painting,

Of you and I,

holding hands while the moon sings,

Oh can you not imagine,

Of you and I,

having so many sweet treats with tea that smells of jasmine,

Oh can you not smile upon,

Of you and I,

the words that we have told each other, in the early hours of dawn?

Oh can you not see in your mind,

Of you and I,

You as mine,

And I, as yours.”

he looks up, and he winks softly and blows you a kiss

never in your life had you been

PoeM serenaded

it felt like drinking 3084487373737 favorite chocolate milks and clinging onto a nice blanket in the arms of someone

someone like him

Jin goes to you, before a few snaps can sneak out to applaud him

he goes on his knee and kisses your hand

“well?”

you only kiss his forehead back, hugging him softly as you tear up

“kim seokjin i think you’ll be the literal death of me,”

he laughs his amazing windshield wiper laugh, making you laugh as well

you and he gently go on the couch, letting him blanket you in such kind words that you sniffle

the soft and quiet snaps, mixed with the faint heartbeat of his ring around your ears

becoming the background music you’ve always needed

“I knew u can do it, y/n”

[mikauzoran]

Lukanette/Lukadrienette: To Waltz Among Shades: (Chapter Nine Point Five) Omake One

To Waltz Among Shades: (Chapter Nine Point Five) Omake One: Reconnecting

Luka took a deep breath as he reached out for the doorknob. Then he stood there, out in the hallway, for a solid minute, mentally preparing himself to renter the apartment and face Marinette.

He was tempted to just go home, just leave his guitar, leave his wallet, leave his phone, and come back later when he wasn’t feeling so raw. He didn’t want to deal with this. He didn’t want to fix things. He just wanted to be upset for a little while, languish in his feelings for once…but if he didn’t have his phone, he might miss a call from Adrien—or worse: a call from Plagg because Adrien was too catatonic or stubborn to call himself.

Luka’s grip on the doorknob tightened reflexively as he shuddered at the thought.

And then there was the way Adrien had begged Luka to sort things out with Marinette.

Luka breathed a heavy sigh, sucked it up, and opened the door.

Marinette wasn’t in the living/dining/kitchen area, so Luka began his slow trudge up the steps to her room, knocking at the trapdoor and waiting to the count of three before pushing it open.

Marinette spun her desk chair around to face him. “How’s Adrien?”

Her eyes were a little red and damp.

His heart ached at the sight. He wanted to go to her, to wrap her in his arms and make everything okay for her.

But he didn’t. He went over to the chaise where he’d left his guitar and his phone.

“Is he okay? I overwhelmed him, didn’t I?” she started splutter. “I’m sorry. You were right. I shouldn’t have kissed him like that. It was too much. I rushed everything and messed it all up. I—”

“—Marinette?” Luka cut her off gently. “Could you give me just a second? I’m texting Nino to go over there and check on him.”

“Oh.” Marinette tucked her hands underneath her thighs and pressed her lips together, suddenly going silent.

Luka dashed off a quick message and then smiled at the immediate, affirmative reply. “Okay. Nino said he’s on it.”

Luka sank to the chaise, setting down the phone beside him so that Marinette would know that she had his undivided attention. “Adrien’s…freaking out a little. He just needs to process. He’ll be all right. You didn’t break him or anything.”

Marinette breathed a huge sigh of relief.

“He does this. He gets overwhelmed easily nowadays, and then he needs to go freak out and have a bit of a meltdown, but then he’s okay again. He’s going to be okay,” Luka assured, attempting to explain the process.

Marinette began to nod, but her eyes were a little glassy. She looked like she was going to cry again at the slightest encouragement.

Luka mentally sighed, seeing that there wasn’t space for his hurt feelings over the Ladybug thing to be addressed. So he did what he always did: he pushed it all down and focused on her.

“Are you okay, Chanson?”

Because what right did he actually have to be upset with her? She literally rebuilt Paris and brought people back from the dead a couple times a week. Who was he to get pouty that his girlfriend hadn’t seen fit to inform him that she was a superhero?

He understood why she hadn’t, what she had said about feeling trapped and silenced, like she didn’t have the option to ask for help. He understood. He really did.

It still hurt.

Marinette shook her head, replying in a tiny, brittle voice, “No.”

He was supposed to get up and go to her. He was supposed to hold her, be there for her, make it okay.

He didn’t. He didn’t feel like it. He didn’t have the energy.

“No,” she repeated. “I’m not okay.”

Neither was he.

“Luka, I screwed everything up.” Tears slowly did begin to fall. “I should have listened to you. I should have talked to him.”

Luka remained silent. What could he do but agree with her?

“I wasn’t thinking. I just assumed.” Her voice pitched up almost into a whine, and she began to speak faster. “I just assumed that he blamed me as much as I blamed myself. It seemed so obvious that he would hate me and never want to see me again after that. But I was so, so wrong. He needed me, and I wasn’t there. I never thought he’d feel like I abandoned him. I didn’t…think.”

“Oh, Chanson,” Luka sighed, opening his arms to her.

She pushed off out of the chair and was at his side in an instant, sinking onto the chaise beside him, curling up against him, wrapping her arms around his torso and tucking her head under his chin.

“I messed up so badly, Luka. There’s no way I can ever make this up to him.” Her voice and body shook.

He gave her a bolstering squeeze, running a hand up and down her arm. “Maybe not immediately, maybe not all at once…but maybe over days and weeks and months and years you could. Maybe you could eventually if you stuck it out and made it up to him in installments.”

She pulled back slightly to study his face. “Installments?”

Luka nodded. “Be there for him from now on, and maybe each day that you are will help to make up, in some small part, for the days that you weren’t. Maybe if you keep being there for him consistently, after a couple years, it will start to feel a little more okay.”

A small smile gradually rolled across her face like a cloud passing to reveal the sun.

“You’re so wonderful, Bluebird. You always know what to say.” She leaned in, pressing her lips to his in a closed-mouth kiss of gratitude and affection.

He started to kiss back, to just let everything be fine and return to normal, but then a stray thought hit him: “I don’t know her as well as I thought I did”, and he pulled away.

Marinette’s eyelashes fluttered open, and she gazed at her boyfriend in confusion.

“Sorry,” Luka mumbled, dropping his arms to his sides and scooting back, putting some space between them. “I…” He shook his head. “Sorry. A lot on my mind. Do you mind if I…?” He indicated his guitar with a tip of his head.

Marinette put on a cheery smile and took the liberty of retreating a little on her end. “Not at all. Go ahead,” she encouraged and listened as Luka began to play a confused, twisted melody in the Phrygian mode that occasionally seemed to wonder off and, at other times, to chase its own tail.

Marinette could hear how troubled Luka was in the brooding tune. She listened for a minute or two as he worked out his thoughts and feelings in the song.

Then she took a deep breath. “You know…I didn’t just mean Adrien when I said I’d messed everything up earlier.”

Luka’s fingers paused on the strings, and a poignant G sharp echoed with a twang.

Tentatively, he looked up to meet her contrite gaze.

“I screwed up with you too, Luka. I’m sorry.”

He licked his lips and swallowed, buying time with which to wrangle his thoughts.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you…. I couldn’t,” she added more softly.

With a deep sigh, Luka set down the guitar and angled his body towards hers. “You know, I understand. I can practically see you having one of your out-of-control spirals, thinking something like, ‘Everyone’s depending on me. I can’t mess up. If I mess up, the whole world could end, and it would be all my fault’. Logically, my brain understands why you made the choices you did. Rationally, I can see why you felt like you didn’t have any other choice.”

She winced. “But…?”

“Being able to look at things logically doesn’t make them hurt any less,” he muttered.

She reached out, tentatively slipping her hand into his. She didn’t apologize again, knowing that it would only feel cheap and insincere in light of her actions.

She knew that actions were what really counted with Luka, and her actions would drown out any meek apology she managed.

“…It still feels like you didn’t trust me,” he continued softly, staring down at her thumb as it traced his knuckles back and forth. “I know that trust had nothing to do with it in your mind, but, to me, it feels like you didn’t trust me with your secret…even though I trusted you with every single one of mine.”

She nodded, accepting his sedate accusations without protest or attempt at defense or excusal.

“That feels pretty crumby, when you trust someone with everything, think you know them and they know you completely, only to find out how in the dark you were.” Luka pulled his hand away, grabbing his guitar and beginning to strum aimlessly in an agitated G sharp minor.

“I feel pretty stupid now that I realize how often you’ve lied to me,” he snickered, a wounded grin ripping his lips apart. “Your excuses were so ludicrous at times, but I believed you because I just took it for granted that you would never lie to me. I thought we didn’t have any secrets. I thought we told each other everything. Part of me still wants to believe that Ladybug was the only secret, that you only lied because you felt that you had to, but…now I’m wondering if I’m just naïve and gullible. What else have I been willfully blind to?”

Just as the song seemed to be coming to an end, Luka’s melody moved into a deceptive cadence, shifting suddenly in an unexpected direction, away from resolution.

Marinette’s gaze dropped to her hands, guilt throbbing in her chest, welling up into her throat.

“I mean…” Luka chuckled ironically. “I’ve always known that I’m more in love with you than you are with me, but—”

“—Luka,” Marinette gasped softly, hands flying to grasp his.

He looked up, eyes boring through her, searching desperately. “Do you love me?” he wondered. “Really?”

“You know I do,” she insisted.

Reflexively, he began to shake his head.

“You know I do,” she repeated with more force.

“I couldn’t keep a secret like that from the woman I loved,” he whispered, lips flattening into a sad smile. “I couldn’t. I couldn’t, so I didn’t. I trusted you…and it feels like you didn’t trust me. It feels like you didn’t love me enough.”

“Luka, I couldn’t tell anyone,” Marinette finally began to argue, gripping at his right hand tightly. “This has nothing to do with our relationship. I have never told anyone. This isn’t about you.”

He laughed, and icy blue eyes starting to shimmer with tears he wouldn’t let fall. Ironically, his mouth smiled. “I know. I’m probably the least egotistical person in this city, Marinette. I know this has nothing to do with me and everything to do with the greater good and the rules and the safety of Paris. I know that I was never even a factor under consideration. I know how silly I’m being right now, but…can’t it be about me? Can’t I make it about me just this once?”

She stared at him in surprise as if he were a string that had suddenly snapped on her.

He pulled his hands back, turning his body away from her as he changed keys and started on a new theme. “I spend so much time being there for others—not that I mind. I do it because I care for those people, but…I spend so much time being there for others…and I am rarely there for myself. Aren’t I allowed to be selfish and ridiculous this once and make this about me and how I’m feeling? Because I know I’m dating Paris’s savior and that she has a job to do and a lot of people who depend on her, but…I don’t have the energy today to pretend that I’m fine when I’m not. I don’t want to push my own feelings aside right now. I don’t feel like being the mature, rational adult I’ve felt like I’ve had to be since I was ten.”

Marinette’s mouth dropped open. “…Why is this the first time that I’m hearing about this? Why haven’t you said anything before?” Her voice hitched and took on a panicked tone. “Are you telling me that there have been times before when you’ve just pretended to be okay even though you weren’t? Is this a common occurrence?”

With a long sigh, Luka shrugged. “Other more important things were going on. There wasn’t really time for me not to be fine. This isn’t a weekly thing, but…this isn’t a rare thing either.”

“What could possibly be more important than you not being okay?” she demanded in a bit of a whine.

“Juleka, my mom, Adrien…you,” he listed. “Usually it’s someone needing me to be strong and be their support, and I can’t not take care of the people I love…. And people just assume that I’ve got my stuff together. It’s not usually a big deal. It’s usually fine…just, right now, it’s really, really not fine.”

Marinette blew out a sigh, letting her head drop into her hands.

Luka continued to strum sulkily in the background as Marinette tried to get her frantically whirling thoughts together.

“I’ve screwed up worse than I thought,” she finally mumbled, raising her head to smile in resignation at her defeat. “Is there any way that I could make it up to you in installments too? I want us to be okay…or are you breaking up with me?”

Luka’s fingers faltered, wringing a sour C natural out of the strings. His gaze snapped up to meet hers. “W-What? No. Of course I’m not breaking up with you. Chanson, you are it. Frankly, you being Ladybug only makes you even more perfect and astounding and wonderful…irrespective of me being upset that you kept such a big secret from me. I-I love you. …I want things to be okay between us again too.”

Marinette let out a relieved breath, nodding. “Okay. Okay. Good. So…talk to me. What do I need to do? What needs to happen?”

Luka set aside the guitar and swung around to face her on the chaise, one leg tucked underneath him. “I think I just need to be allowed to be hurt for a while.”

Marinette’s forehead creased as her eyebrows drew together. Her lips puckered slightly, but she nodded. “Okay. Yeah. That’s fair. So…?”

“I think it’s just going to take some time, Marinette,” he answered honestly. “Adrien told me that Ladybug is just Marinette in focus mode…but he knows Ladybug a lot better than I do. I can see the similarities from the times I worked with Ladybug—I did notice them when we were working together—but… It’s hard reconciling all of this. I feel like…I thought I knew Marinette. I thought we were a team. I thought we were so in sync, but I was wrong, so now I feel like everything is off between us…. I don’t feel close to you right now.”

She scooted in, hesitantly taking his hands in hers. “I’m sorry. Luka, you do know me. Nothing has changed. You still know who I am…maybe…you even understand me a little better now that you’ve got all of the puzzle pieces. You’ll see. Give it time. You’ll see I’m still me…we’re still us.”

He gave her hands a light squeeze. “You promise?”

She nodded vehemently. “You’ll see…and I’m going to start doing better. I’m going to listen to you. I’m going to listen to you when it comes to Adrien. I’m going to start asking for help when I feel overwhelmed. I’m going to talk to you when things are bothering me instead of trying to deal with everything myself.”

“Will you actually think about talking to a therapist like I’ve been suggesting for the past five years?” Luka tested.

Marinette pulled a face, grimacing at the prospect. “…I…I told Adrien I would go with him to see his. We’ll see how that goes.”

Luka nodded, satisfied. “All right. Thank you, Marinette.”

She stared into his eyes for a beat, searching them. “…Do you really think I don’t love you as much as you love me?”

He averted his eyes with a cool shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just left over from the first two years we knew each other, but I know I wasn’t your first choice. It’s not as if I think you don’t care about me—I know you do. I know you love me. I just…I’ve always felt like maybe you’d be okay without me, but I couldn’t live without you.”

“Luka,” she scolded gently in exasperation. “Oh, Luka…no…. There was a reason why I didn’t ask you out until I was sixteen. I knew I was a mess and my heart was conflicted. It’s true that I never got over my feelings for Adrien, but I waited to start something with you until I was sure I wouldn’t be using you as a rebound. I waited until I knew that I wanted you just because you were you. You have never been someone I’ve just settled for. Luka, I’m sorry if I don’t express it in ways that mean something to you, but I promise that I do love you…so, so much,” she swore insistently, inching closer as she squeezed his hands.

He blinked at her, gobsmacked. “You…You really mean all that?”

“Of course I do,” she breathed.

Luka found himself leaning in, gravitating towards her as their eyes locked.

“I promise you, I am going to actively work on showing you just how much I adore you, just how loved and cared for you really are. I’m going to spoil you,” she vowed, already making plans.

“I could do with a little pampering,” he confessed, letting his eyes slip closed as his mouth met hers.

She kissed him gently yet meaningfully, not wasting a single moment as she matched her actions to her words.

Marinette pulled back a minute or so later, giggling and smiling at the blissful expression on Luka’s face. “Come on. Bed,” she insisted, pulling him to his feet and tugging him over to the ladder up to her loft. “Let’s snuggle and kiss. Earlier, you said you didn’t feel close to me right now. Let’s fix that. Let’s get back in sync.”

Luka paused, looking up at her as she turned back to him. For a moment, he debated whether he wanted to fix things just yet or whether he wanted to wallow a bit more.

She smiled patiently, mindful of not being too pushy. “If you’re ready,” she offered him the opportunity to say no.

He didn’t want to say no.

“Okay,” he breathed. “But you should know that Adrien said if you hurt me again, you’ll have to deal with him.”

Marinette burst out laughing. “Oh my gosh! Oh, and I bet you loved that, didn’t you? I bet you went a little weak in the knees.”

Luka shrugged, motioning her up the ladder so that he could climb up after her. “Not going to lie; Adrien acting all heroic and chivalrous? So hot, and incredibly touching. I want him to feel protective of me all the time.”

Marinette flopped down on her bed, shaking her head, a wide, wide grin stretching across her entire face.

She opened her arms.

Luka readily accepted the invitation, lying down beside her and scooting in close.

Despite the big revelation, she still smelled and tasted and felt the same. Maybe Marinette really was still Marinette. Maybe they really could still be them.

Luka wanted Marinette to be right. He wanted them to be okay.

[karnakian]

do @rcguna... u wont!!!

ROAST  TIME  ||  accepting

@onlyhorn

you’re  right  i  won’t !!!  instead  i  will  do  ...  you  :)

my opinion on;

character in general:  i  have  told  you  before  that  i  do  not  know  what  a  re:zero  is.  i  still  do  not  know  what  a  re:zero  is.  all  i  know  is  that  you  are  right  and  rem  is  best  girl.  other  than  her,  from  what  i  can  tell  i  love  the  dynamic  between  rem  and  ram  in  particular.  i  haven’t  really  interacted  with  any  of  your  other  muses  except  tiphereth  except  that  was  ooc  so  i’m not  sure  that  really  counts  lol.

how they play them:  OKAY  HERE  WE  GO  LOL  ...  first  off  i  just  want  to  say  i  LOVEEE  your  array  of  muses,  especially  your  ocs.  honestly  i’m  like  75%  convinced  that  they  are  actually  re:zero  characters  that  you  are  passing  off  as  ocs  because  they  are  SO  fleshed  out  and  have  SO  much  thought  and  care  put  into  each  of  them.  (  you  might  think  this  is  a  joke  but  i  was  typing  this  i  literally  looking  up  each  of  your  muses  to  check  who  was  an  oc  or  not  LMAO  ).  and  the  RANGE  of  muses  too ...   like  from  a  genial  oni  maid  to  a   mischievous  luck  spirit  to  an  archbishop  of  despair  to  a  literal ???  murderer ???  all  of  them  so  well-developed  and  thought  out ??  you  have  the  range  darling. i  haven’t  even  gotten  to  your  writing  style  yet  and  for  the  sake  of  not  like  ...  drowning  the  dash  in  the  Longest  Post  In  The  World  Lol  i  will  just  say  what  a  talent  you  have.  i  love  how  uniquely  each  of  your  muses’  voices  come  across.  literally  i  was  so  tempted  to  put  down  leon’s  name  under  everyone  on  your  interest  checker  bc  i  would  honestly  love  to  throw  him  at  everyone  but  i  decided  to  be  conservative  and  not  like  ...  scare  you  off  lol.  all  wonderful  muses,  all  a  delight  to  see  on  my  dash.

the mun:  remun  i  have  only  known  you  for  a  handful  of  weeks  but  already  i  would  die  for  you.  you  are  so  sweet  and  thoughtful  and  you  cheer  me  up  when  i’m  feeling  embarrassed  by  my  lack  of  activity  ...  i  am  honestly  saving  that  one  ask  you  sent  me  in  my inbox  for  the  rest  of  eternity  because  it  was  so  sweet ...  also  genuinely  one  of  the  funniest  people  on  my  entire  dash  !!  you  seem  like  someone  who  i  think  i  would  genuinely  love  to  be  better  friends  with  and  it’s  a  shame  that  we  haven’t  talked  /  interacted  more  ...  again  i’m  sorry  for  being  literally  the  most  boring  person  ooc  to  talk  to  LMAO .  let’s  talk  more  though  okay ?  okay

do i;

follow them:  yeah  babey !!  if  you  have  any  other  blogs  you  have  to  tell  me  so  that  i  can  follow  them  too  okay  (  if  you  want  to  of  course  )

rp with them:  WE  HAVEN’T  REALLY  YET  ...  we  should  change  that  (  again  if  you  want  to  lol  )

want to rp with them: YES  ...  even  if  rem  still  is  wary  of  leon  i  would  love  to  explore  a  friendship  with  them  eventually  ...

ship their character with mine:  mmm  i’m  not  sure  lol,  we  haven’t  interacted  enough  to  say.  not  right  now  at  least,  but  i’m  definitely  down  for  exploring  some  platonic  relationships  as  a  start

what is my;

overall opinion: *gives  you  an  evil  smooch  on  the  head*

**Note: Mun’s answer are all to be completely honest. Don’t send url if you don’t want brutal honesty.

[knjoodles]

mismatched pages; jimin x reader

pairing: writer!jimin x writer!reader

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 1.2K

summary: you love writing. it’s your passion, it’s what you dream to do forever. up until you find out the guy you really like also happens to be the guy who’s stealing your ideas. then it sucks.

lowercase intended.

02 (a lot longer than this first chapter)

“shit!” you exclaimed, tumbling out of your dorm and into the hallway. you were 15 minutes late to class, and it takes 15 minutes to walk there. you stood in front of the elevator, tapping your foot out of pure terror and nerve. “okay,” you said to yourself, “elevator’s not fast. stairs, stairs!” you whipped towards the stairwell on the other side of the hall and dashed towards them, scurrying down the stairs and nearly tripping over at least twice. 

once you reached the ground floor, you let yourself take a breather. “i need to get back into shape.” you groaned, rubbing your temples before adjusting the uncomfortable way your sock was sitting on your foot and, again, setting off to run to your class. “fuck!” you muttered. “dr. yang is going to kick my ASS!”

thanks to the cup of iced latte you downed in ten minutes, your body running on pure adrenaline, and that leftover chinese from last night, you reached your class in 7 minutes. embarrassed that you were out of breath, you spent about 30 seconds catching it before walking in.

you opened the door slowly so to not be embarrassed about your entire class eyeing you for being late and were nicely surprised as none of them even bat an eye at you. dr. yang, your professor, raised his eyebrows at you and motioned for you to make your way over to his desk before starting your classwork.

“(y/n),” he said, “can you explain to me why you were late?”

“i, um,” you fiddled with the corner of your jacket and made eye contact with him; eye contact that was way too direct to not be awkward. “i stayed up last night working on the project you assigned, and then i went to sleep late. i woke up 40 minutes ago and realized how late i was. i'm sorry, it won’t happen again.”  you bowed.

dr. yang sighed, laying down the stack of papers he was filing and looked up at you. “(y/n), why are you working so hard?”

personally? you were stunned by that question. you never imagined in all your life that a teacher would ask you that question. 

“i mean, i assigned that a week ago! it’s due at the end of the semester!” he chuckled, shocked that you’d start that early. 

“but sir, everyone else has started!” you argued, trying justify why you slept at 5 a.m. last night. 

“well, has this ‘everyone else’ stayed up so late that they’re late to the class that the grade is for?” dr. yang queried. “(y/n). i don’t want to discourage hard work and hard working people, but you already excel in this class. you don’t need to do this, and?  it’s better if you don’t. you should live your life the way you want to, but please, if not for you than for your teacher, let yourself rest.”

you were appalled to say the least. you could barely say a word; your teacher just told you to stop working so hard? “i,”  you started, forgetting how to form coherent sentences. “i understand, dr. yang.”

“good. now, if you were here for the first 20-something minutes of class, you’d know that there were two assignments today.” he teased as he stood up. “one assignment was to work on the semester project. but, i knew some people like you would be almost completely done with that. so, i created the second assignment: an in-class assignment, which doubles as me entering my students in a contest. you must write up a fully original short story. it can be about anything you like, any theme you want, any genre, etc. then, once it has been proofread by another student, it’ll be read by a panel of judges, who’ll be judging short stories from all over the world. the top ten writers will then move on to a sequel competition. the top three writers will be awarded a large sum of money, and, if one of my students wins, they will earn 30% extra credit on their final exam. it’s one of the toughest writing competitions out there, so great achievements deserve great rewards. and, everything will be done-” he paused, looking at you.

“wow,” you exclaimed, feeling like the wind was knocked out of you. 30% extra credit on your final exam? that’s so many points, you could drown in them. “that sounds amazing, im so glad you’re giving us this opportunity to-“

“-in partners.” he finished, watching your eyes grow like saucers and your jaw drop ever so slightly.

“in... in partners?” you stumbled over your words. ideas for this were already flying through your head. but now you have to work with someone else? in a class where you only talk to two other people? who you’ve known since you were in middle school? 

“yes!” dr. yang hummed, ridding the whiteboard of tiny marks. “but, partners have already been chosen. fortunately, there’s someone else who thought they could get by by themselves.”

“sir, im not sure if i want to-"

“park jimin. he’ll be your partner.” dr. yang turned to you and smiled, placing his whiteboard eraser rag in a drawer and sitting back down in his chair.

“park jimin? you mean, that park jimin?” you motioned over to a man sitting with his nose so close to his laptop, his face was basically part of it.

“do you know any other park jimins in this class?” dr. yang asked, opening his laptop to reply to emails. “get to introducing yourself. he thinks he’s working by himself too.”

with dr. yang quite literally shoo-ing you away with silence and a hand wave, you realized that park jimin was probably going to have to be your best friend until the end of the year. and so you set off, racing up the stairs of your lecture hall, making a beeline for jimin. “excuse me?”

“mhm?” he hummed, turning to you. it would be an understatement to say that it was a change of scenery and what you thought he looked like. you barely saw him; the times you did look at him, his face was masked by his laptop. and the rest of the time, you didn’t really pay attention to him. now, getting a chance to get a good look at him, you studied his features. he had a very attractive facial structure, with high cheekbones and plump lips. his hair was a sleek black color, which really complemented his outfit of beige and dusty blue. you noted how sharp his nose was and how nicely his eyes were shaped. this made life a little easier. at least he wasn’t an eyesore. 

“hi, i'm (y/n).” you held out your hand, which he stared at for a couple seconds before getting the memo that he was supposed to shake it.

“hi, (y/n),” he smiled, clasping your hand with both of his and giving a firm handshake. “do you need something from me? do you need me to write your essay for you?” he giggled.

“no,” you laughed awkwardly. “about the second assignment, the contest one?”

“yeah?” he nodded, resting his head in his right hand.

“dr. yang assigned us as partners, so here i am!”

“dr. yang assigned us as-” he paused to laugh to himself. “him letting me go solo that easily sounded too good to be true.”

a pang of embarrassment washed over you. “i mean, if you don’t want to work with me-”

“no, no! it’s not that at all,” he assured you, pulling over the chair next to him and motioning for to sit down. “i knew he’d do something like this was what i was saying. nothing against you. i’ve just met you!” 

“that's good to know, i guess,” you smiled. “i know that you’re really creative, so maybe later today we can go to a library and bounce ideas off each other?”

“why don’t i treat you to lunch and get to know you better?” he asked. from how introverted he acted in class, you never expected that he’d be so social from the get-go. “i know this really good café only a 10 minute drive from here.”

“well, if you insist,” you said, his smile overtaking any sort of anxiety you felt. you rubbed your thumb on top of your palm in excitement. in huge contrast to high-school, you’re not too social right now.

“great. meet me in front of ginam hall and then we can go!” jimin promised before turning back to his laptop to work on whatever he was on his laptop.

you awkwardly stood up. was that it? dr. yang directly told you to start working on your project after he lectured you. you waited for a solid minute, quietly chewing on your lip and expecting that jimin would offer to share ideas or something. 

anything?

“uh, jimin?” you blurted, the weight of your uncomfortableness outweighing your patience at that point. he turned and raised his eyebrows, lowering his laptop screen and laying his hand on the table.

“yup?” he asked, crossing his legs.

“did dr. yang not tell you our project starts now? like we have to work on it today?” 

“he didn’t say we had to work on it together, today! see it this way, we both brainstorm some deas for our story; plan it out, write down a summary of the plot, make like three of them. then, when we meet up in the library when both of our classes are over we can 

you almost imploded at this idea. it wasn’t  bad or anything, but three plot ideas? three of them? and who said that we were meeting up after lunch? you thought jimin’s replacement for meeting up at the library was lunch! you didn’t sign up for two. “i, um,” you stuttered. “i guess that’s alright?”

jimin beamed, the large round ceiling lights making his eyes glitter. “great! i’ll see you at 12:15 at ginam, right?”

“mhm!” you hummed, flashing him a frail smile and giving two thumbs up before turning around and skittering to your partners in crime, jung hyeyeon and kang jaehyun.

“since when do you talk to park jimin?” hyeyeon pondered, drumming her fingers against the gray of her macbook. 

“yeah, that was weird.” jaehyun nodded. 

“stop it!” you silently scolded, sitting down in between them and fishing out your laptop, letting your bag drop under the desk and on the floor. “it’s ‘cause dr. yang put us in a group since him and i are almost completely finished with our semester project.”

“seriously? is that why you were late?” jaehyun gawked. “i could barely find a topic to report on! how did you finish so fast?”

“i mean, i'm not done done,” you explained, waving your hands as you waited for your laptop to load your project. “i just need someone to proofread so i can make edits. then i'm done.”

“so basically, you’re done.” hyeyeon snickered. “but you and jimin…” she nudged you with her elbow, raising her eyebrows.

“oh, come on!” you laughed. “don’t even start with that. i’ve known him for literally 10 minutes.”

“you guys wouldn’t even look bad!” hyeyeon defended herself, spinning on her chair in jaehyun’s direction. “right, jaehyun?”

“she isn’t wrong,” jaehyun agreed, spinning his pencil with his fingers. “it wouldn’t be ugly.”

“i only know his face and his name. it’s not like i know all of his deep, dark secrets or something. lay off, please?” you half laughed, half begged. 

“fine, fine,” hyeyeon raised her hands in defeat and scuttled her way back to her desk on her swivel chair. “we’ll shut up.” 

you turned your head to the other side of the room to look at jimin, typing away on his computer. you smiled to yourself, thinking about how, as different as you thought the two of you were, you were actually quite similar.

how nice.

[emotionally-imbruised]

Im literally refreshing your account cuz I can’t wait for part of the gemma’s bestfriend!

Adjsjshs WELL WAIT NO LONGER

Accidentally in Love Pt. 2

Pt. 1

“Accidentally, I’m in love.”

There’re many things you’ve done in life that you regret. It’s all part of being human, isn’t it? Whether it be something simple like not listening to your parents when they’d advise you not to do something because they knew it would come back and bite you in the ass. Or even just taking that one extra shot of tequila while out with some friends and having full knowledge of how you have work early the next morning... Being regretful when it comes to one's actions is a part of life, and you are no exception to this fact. And boy, are you feeling slightly regretful right now.

Was it one of your brightest ideas to make out with your best friend’s brother on his couch, while he’s sick? Absolutely the frick not. But was it ever smarter of you to panic when said best friend walked in with her mother on you and said brother unexpectantly, thinking it’d be best to avoid the entire situation rather than deal with it head-on? Ha-ha nope, and now the whole scene haunts your memories on a continuous loop.

It all started on Christmas Eve. Harry had called you stating he was sick, and how he didn’t want to be alone for the holidays after he’d gotten the news that Anne and Gemma would no longer be able to visit him because of the poor weather conditions in London – so he invited you over instead. Spending time alone with Harry was nothing out of the ordinary for you seeing as you’d grown quite close to the Rockstar throughout the years due to your friendship with Gemma. You never really considered him as anything other than a best friend despite the butterflies that always swarmed in your stomach whenever you were nearby one another.

A pathetic crush is what you believed it to be, and you treated it as such. However, all of that was thrown out the window after watching two rom-coms with the curly-haired boy cuddled up on his couch, and it was soon discovered that he’s felt the same about you for some time – and well, things got pretty heated after that.

Even with the countless times you’ve imagined the way Harry’s lips would feel being crashed against yours, there was still no chance in hell that you could’ve ever prepared yourself for how lost you’d get in his touch, and that’s precisely what happened. So very lost that neither of you noticed the sound of car doors closing outside or the soft chatter from the two women that had just arrived at Harry’s home. It all happened so fast once the two walked through the front door, and you couldn’t prepare yourselves for even the thought of them witnessing the two of you all over each other in that hot mess.

At first, everyone stayed silent, and it only went downhill from there. The shock that registered on not only Anne’s face at the scene in front of her but also your best friends will forever be etched into your mind, and it’s the absolute worst. You struggled to find your words as you immediately tried to defend your actions to two women that have become such a massive part of your life but were unable to get a word out as you shifted awkwardly on Harry’s lap and felt his increasingly hardening erection rub against the inside of your thigh.

The gasp that left your mouth as you quickly glanced down at the very prominent bulge making itself known through his track pants didn’t go unnoticed by Harry’s family when Gemma finally spoke up. “Oh my god.”

You nervously bit down hard on your bottom lip as you quickly scrambled off of Harry and you both stood up from the couch as you observed your best friend shake her head dramatically; trying her best to look at anywhere but at you and her brother.

“Mum, Gem, wha-what are you doing here?” Harry stammered as he briskly stood from the couch, and his face visibly became noticeably paler. No more words were exchanged as he instantly pressed a hand over his mouth before bolting around the sofa, past his mum and sister, and down the hall to the closest washroom. Soon enough, the only sounds that could be heard were that of him retching and coughing as he was so obviously busy with emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

Anne wasted no time in rushing after her son, but Gemma stayed planted firmly; looking at you in complete shock and confusion after what she’d just witnessed. An awkward moment passed and just as you were about to finally say something – Anne’s voice sounded from down the hallway requesting Gemma’s assistance in helping with Harry. The oldest Styles sibling took a deep breath before shaking her head again and disappearing down the hall with her family.

A part of you wanted to follow right after them to make sure Harry was ok, but your inner coward which happened to be very present at the time had other plans. Without even thinking about it, you wasted no time in shuffling around the couch and into the hallway, so you could make your sweet escape. Your heart pounded harshly in your chest as you struggled with putting your coat and shoes back on out of fear. Any one of the three could see you trying to flee. Once you were finally situated, you dashed out the front door to your car without looking back.

That was over two weeks ago, and the situation has yet to be resolved.

Besides the obligatory Merry Christmas and Happy New Year text exchanges between best friends – you and Gemma have not communicated, and you’ve been ripping yourself a new one over it.

During that awkward week between Christmas and New Year’s where everyone is all over the place, and no one really knows what day it is; you managed to run into Anne while you were out getting some lunch and she asked if she could tag along. There was no way you were going to turn down the woman who has become nothing short of being like a second mother to you, and it was one of the better choices you’d made in recent days. After expressing how sorry you were for the mess you felt you’d caused, she immediately shut that down and said your apology wasn’t necessary.

“Sure, the situation could’ve definitely been handled a bit better,” she explained, causing you to chuckle softly. “But you and Harry are both adults and if you both have feelings for each other, who am I to say anything about that. M’actually quite glad it’s you he’s taken a liking to even though that’s a bit prejudice for me to say because you’re already part of the family, Y/N. I know Gemma feels the same way, but she needs time to process what happened.”

Your entire exchange with Anne made you feel better, but you were still afraid to face your best friend and knew that needed to change. After sending a text stating how sorry you were with how things were handled and how you were ready to talk whenever she was, but unfortunately not hearing anything back; you decided to give her space she so clearly needed.  

And then there was Harry. After the entire incident, he wasn’t long texting and calling you trying to talk, but you cruelly left him on read and ghosted him for the last two weeks other than wishing him a happy holiday as well.

You’ve felt like absolute trash for ignoring Harry, but you have been too nervous about facing him. What if he didn’t mean what he said about liking you as well? Maybe he was just as caught up in the heat of the moment as you were and was just a little horny. All of these thoughts have drilled themselves into your brain, and you haven’t prepared yourself to deal with them just yet. Oh, and to top it all off… You managed to get sick as well.

You’re currently bundled up on your couch watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine as you reach towards the Kleenex box sitting on your coffee table, besides what’s left of the still steaming bowl of soup you just made because that’s all your stomach can hold down without making you want to vomit.

There is not one appealing aspect of your current situation, and you can’t help but think this really is just the icing on the cake with everything else that has happened. Damn Harry and his overly appealing germ-filled lips.

Just as you finish blowing your nose into one of the tissues while Jake and Amy start going off about something on the television, your phone chimes with a new text message and you’re startled by the sudden noise. You toss the tissue into the small trash can you have placed next to the couch and dig your phone out from under the pillows to see it’s Gemma asking if you are home. After replying with a simple ‘yes,’ you find yourself staring at the small screen awaiting a response – but it never comes. With a defeated sigh you lay your head against the large armrest of the couch and allow the exhaustion you’re feeling start taking you over – but just as your eyes flutter shut, your front door swings open and suddenly you’re wide awake.

You scramble from your laying position to see who just barged into your apartment but result in you falling down onto the solid hardwood floor with a loud thud. The embarrassed moans that leave your mouth are drowned out by a familiar chuckle, and you soon open your eyes to be met by Gemma’s as she glances down at you with a smirk. She doesn’t say anything as she extends her hand out to help you up, and you just shake your head as you accept her assistance.

“Sorry for barging in like that,” she starts and holds up her set of keys once you’re standing upright; showing off the extra key to your apartment you’d given her a while ago to use for whenever she was in LA visiting. “Decided to just let myself in.”

“What-.”

“Am I doing here?” She cuts you off, and you nod desperately. “Well I’ve been thinking, and these last two weeks have sucked a whole lot without having my best friend to talk to. I’m also getting pretty sick of this one’s never-ending sulkiness.” She gestures behind her to where Harry awkwardly stands, looking like an absolute mess, and you make no attempt in hiding your shock at his sudden presence. He’s obviously still feeling sick with how tired and groggy he looks in his loose grey hoodie and simple fitting jeans, and your guilty conscience comes in at full swing as you find yourself stepping towards him.

“Oh fuck, H,” you whisper as his cloudy green eyes meet yours with a hard-unreadable gaze but soon softens and replaced with concern as you’re taken over by an intense coughing fit.

“Y/N, please tell me you’ve gone to the doctor,” he asks immediately, and you feel even worse because even with how shitty you’ve been to him lately; your wellbeing is still a priority to him.

“Brave of you to assume there’s a likelihood of her leaving the apartment at all if she’s as sick as you’ve been,” Gemma pipes in and you look to her. “Y/N doesn’t do the doctors Harry, you know this. And wow, this is what you both get for making it to first base on that damn couch.”

And there it is. “Gem, the last thing I wanted to do was make you uncomfortable with any of this. It kinda just… happened,” your voice rasps out with another small cough at the end of it.

“I know,” she smiles, and you feel as if a weight has been lifted from your chest. “Can’t say I’m the biggest fan of my best friend and brother being all over each other like the way you two were, but I can say that you two are each one of the few people I think are actually good enough for the other. Y/N, as weird as it is to even think about – you’re one of the best people I could ever imagine my little brother with; and Harry, you’ve got some work to do, but Y/N can help you get to her level.”

“Thanks?” He grumbles, and you chuckle. His eyes then find yours, and you both give the other a knowing nod before engulfing Gemma in a tight group hug.

“Ew, no stop,” she whines and tries to squirm away. “I don’t know whatever illness it is you two have been passing around.”

“You love it,” you state and lean your head onto her shoulder, smiling widely as she wraps her arm around you and tilts her head against yours.

“It’s alright I guess,” she responds as your group hug slowly disperses. “I’m going to go though because I have plans with mum. But I’ll be back tomorrow with your Christmas gift, ok?”

“Of course. I’ve got yours as well, along with your birthday gift I forgot to bring to London with me when I visited at the beginning of December.”

“Worst best friend ever,” she jokes before giving you another hug, nodding to her brother, and disappearing out the front door. You were half expecting Harry to follow after her, but you’re pretty glad he didn’t so you can finally talk to him and get some things off your mind.

You turn to face him, and he awkwardly glances to the ground; not knowing how to approach the situation, so you do instead. “H, I was so caught up in worrying about your mum and Gemma I didn’t even consider your feelings in all of this, and I know I’ve said it a lot lately… but I’m especially sorry for how I just left after well, we kissed and-.”

“S’alright Y/N,” he chuckles at your rambling, and you feel yourself melting as he flashes you one of his giant dimpled grins. He steps towards you, and those damn butterflies in your stomach don’t hesitate in swarming. “I’ve never had a girl walk out on me like that before.”

“Is that supposed to sound appealing to me?” You scoff and keep yourself from snapping at him for the snide comment.

“No, I guess not,” he continues laughing, and you let out a huff. “But m’ sorry as well because I never told you how I felt about you sooner. It’s been for quite some time now, I’ve just been too much of a coward to do anything about it. S’a bit intimidating having feelings for someone who is not only your sister’s best friend but also one of your own. Not necessarily an easy thing to discuss.”

“We could always start talking about it slowly?” You suggest and smile at him shyly. “Could watch a movie and see where the evening takes us?”

Your thoughts instantly go back to what happened the last time the two of you watched a movie together and know he’s thinking the same thing; having no control over the blush burning its way across your cheeks.

He smirks smugly but slowly nods in agreement. “I’d like that.”

With a stupidly wide smile, the two of you make way to the couch and bundle up again… together. Once you’re both comfy and all cuddled against the other, you glance up at him and speak again. “It’s your turn to pick the movie.”

The way he smiles and tugs his bottom lip in between his teeth make you want nothing more than to press your lips against his again, but you decide to hold off for the time being as he gazes down at you. “Let’s watch Shrek. I’ve had a song from that movie stuck in my head for a while now.”

[pizzarollpatrol]

Fic Rec List #2 10/28/18

If any of the links don’t work, please let me know!. Just wanted to say thank you to all the authors on this list. You and all the effort you put into your fics are very much appreciated 💖

Kiss of Life by @sincerelymlg

Summary: Bucky and the reader go on a mission that quickly takes a turn for the worst. 

Flustered by @notimetoblog

Summary: It’s easy to see when Bucky is flustered. His mannerisms are beyond adorable but they might be hiding something more. --- I’m such a hoe for soft!bucky. I loved this fic, its so sweet and endearing.

Quick Stories by @notimetoblog  

Summary: Waking up early with Bucky is not always so bad. Bucky x reader.

Marry Me by @buckymorelikefuckmebarnes

Summary: Wedding day. (thats a shitty summary im so sorry) --- You thought this fics was shit but HA you are so wrong because it broke me :) Bucky x Reader

Death Do Us Part by @sgtjbuccky

Summary: For centuries, the God of Death had known two things about mortals. One, they were his job, his to collect when their days came to an end, and two, they were obnoxiously odd beings. Their purpose ceased to make sense to him. Never did he understand thy they created a life for themselves, why they loved, why they love other morals when they knew none of it would last forever. It was nothing but sheer stupidity, but that was until he met you. A mortal unlike any other. A mortal that would make him question everything. A mortal that would teach the God of Death how to live. God of Death!Bucky x Mortal!Reader. Ongoing series --- Wow. Where do I even begin? I absolutely love this series, its so different from others that I’ve read. I loved every chapter. 

A Supernatural Marvel by @angelkurenai

Summary: Imagine being transported in the Supernatural universe, with no memory of your life, where you become a hunter and fall in love with Dean. Only for a very important person from your past to come looking for you and change it all. Dean Winchester x Reader, Steve Rodgers x Reader. Ongoing series. --- This is one of my current favorite series!! You really know how to keep us on our toes, I love it!!

Take Me Higher by @buckychrist

Summary: Who knew that the way into the big broody super soldier’s heart was through his unmet need for a good cuddle? Bucky x Reader. --- If a fic has a cuddly bucky, sign me the fuck up. I loved this, its so sweet.

Educating Bucky by @buckfics

Virgin 1930′s Bucky x Reader. Smut. --- Holy fuck. This has got to be my absolute favorite smut I’ve literally ever read. I get so happy when it pops up on my dash again. There isn't a damn thing I dont love about this fic. Its so sweet and believable and I just cant stop myself from reading it.

Sincerely, Me by @buckitybarnes

Summary: Bucky Barnes is a quiet fellow when it comes to socializing with you. After one mishap, however, he finds a way to communicate his feelings without speaking so much. You’ve soon come to learn not every relationship has to be verbal to be important. Bucky x Reader. Completed series.

A Week in Boston by @blacktithe7 

Summary: It was your first vacation in years. Just one week all by yourself in the big city of Boston. No rules. No expectations. Just a list of places to go and things you wanted to see. That all changed the you run into a certain blue-eyed Boston boy who turned your world upside down. Is it really possible to fall in love with someone in just one week? Or is that kind of love just a fairytale? Chris Evens x Reader. Ongoing series. 

Stubborn Love by @barnesrogersvstheworld

Prompt: You cant live your life based on “what-ifs”. Steve Roders x Reader. --- This was so intense, I loved every word.

Date Night by @jaamesbbarnes

Summary: Heavily pregnant but very tired, you still insist to go out for your usual date night with your boyfriend. Chris Beck x Reader. --- This is one of the sweetest fics I ever read. I’ve never heard of “stardust” being used as a pet name and I swear my heart exploded when I read it.

Body Guard by @oliverwxod

Summary: Tony Stark is a very rich man and with that came a lot of enemies. After a tragic event Tony decides himself and the people most important to him, especially his daughter, are in danger. He hires personal body guards. Bucky Barnes is assigned to Y/n Stark, the most troublesome, reckless Stark that there is. Bucky x Reader. Body guard!AU. Ongoing series.--- Absolutely loved this series! So many twists and turns!

40 Days by @abaddonwithyall

Summary: Dean and you are already in an established relationship when he tempts you to give up orgasms for Lent. The only catch? Anyone and Everyone is open to trying to get you off. Let the games begin. Dean x Reader. Eventual Sam x reader, Castiel x reader, Gabriel x reader, Crowley x reader, Charlie x reader, Bela x reader, John x reader, Gadreel x reader, Lucifer x reader, Rowena x reader, Benny x reader, Jo x reader etc. Smut. Uncompleted series. (its from 2016, only the last two parts are missing but its all good) --- This is pure filth and its amazing.

Starved by @theonewiththefanfics

Summary: The Reader is a touchy-feely kind of a person and when she joins the Avengers nothing changes. Apart from the fact that Bucky Barnes is so touch starved, he craves for the soft feel of her skin against his and is over the moon when she treats him the same way she treats everybody else. Yet now day she simply stops, and he doesn't know why. Bucky x reader. Smut

You Aren't My Father by @winchesters-favorite-girl

Summary: When Sam shuts the gates of hell, Dean promised that he would take care of Sam’s little girl. However, things didn't go the way anybody suspected. After Dean settles into his apple pie life, he drifts away from his niece, who decided to take her future into her own hands. Uncle!Dean x Niece!Reader. Angst. Completed series. --- Holy crap. This is one of the best fics I've read, I read this series a long, long time ago and I’m still thinking about it.

My Turn by @sis-tafics

Summary: You and Dean are blowing off some steam. Dean x reader. Smut.

Afraid of the Flame by @thosekidswhohuntmonsters

Summary: Bucky learns from a surprising friend that you shouldn't live a life of things unsaid. Bucky x reader. 

It’s My Favorite Movie by @notnaturalanahi

Summary: Classice movie challenge. Movie prompt: “Are you not entertained?” Gladiator - 2000. Sam Winchester x reader. Smut

The Pumpkin Carver by @softlybarnes

Summary: Bucky and Y/N prepare for Halloween, when Bucky realizes something. Bucky x reader. --- I love The Florist and The Beekeeper so much, I was so happy to see you wrote another part. I loved it.

Watching by @mrsjohnsmith

Summary: Dean likes to watch. Sam x reader x Voyeur!Dean. Smut

Stepping Sideways by @siren-kitten-his

Summary: She steps sideways between worlds just watching those that live there...until Jefferson catches her eye. Jefferson (OUAT) x Fae!OC Mae. Smut. --- This is the first ever Jefferson fic I’ve read and i loved it!!

Ride by @wayward-and-worn

Summary: Sam and Y/N are in an established relationship. The milestones that had to cross to get this far go without saying. She's never been on top. Sam Winchester x Plus!Reader. Smut

All that Glitters by @moonbeambucky

Summary: Natasha found a sneaky way to get you to reveal your secret relationship. Bucky x reader. Smut. --- I LOVED this, its so clever and hilarious.

The Unimaginable by @moonbeambucky

Summary: As Bucky’s wife and mother of his child, you always worried for him when he was on a mission. This last mission will change your life forever. Bucky x reader. Angst. --- When i read the summary, I thought I had an idea about what was going to happen but it was so much worse. There were so many tears.

My Love, by @emilyevanston

Summary: Steve writes you a letter every time he goes on a mission. They usually arrive after he gets back. Steve x reader.

The Fiancé by @mycapt-ohcapt

Summary: Life takes an unexpected twist when you and Steve Rogers have to pretend to be engaged to cover up your little white lie. Steve x reader. Fake dating!AU. Completed mini series.

I Can’t Swim by @revengingbarnes

Summary: The reader pretends to drown to grab the attention of the hot lifeguard who looks after the beach. Lies don’t last long though, and eventually it backfires. Lifeguard!Bucky x reader. --- I LOVED this, its so cute and sweet. I had this goofy ass smile on my face the whole time I read it.

Sound by @bucky-barfs

Summary: You and Steve have been pining after each other for a while. Both to afraid to make a more, that is until you're stuck in a limo in heavy traffic. Steve x reader. Smut.

Crowded Places by @papi-chulo-bucky

Summary: You have a hard time warming up to Bucky, who constantly rejects you. But one day after his Winter Soldier mode is triggered, it seems there’s more to his brooding and stand off demeanor than he let’s on. Bucky x Reader/Winter Soldier x reader. --- I loved this!!! I’ve never read one like this and it turned out so sweet and weirdly endearing.

Memories and Music by @bitsandbobsandstuff

Summary: When you follow the sound of beautiful music, you find Bucky Barnes in front of the piano, and wonder if your heart might break just a little. Bucky x reader.

Three Shades of a Man by @bitsandbobsandstuff

Summary: It was different every time, what Bucky needed from you to survive himself. It was in these moments you saw the shades behind the mask he work in front of the world. Bucky x reader. Smut. Completed mini series. --- The first chapter was so intense and such a difference compared to chapel three, which I absolutely loved. It was so sweet and relieving to see their relationship like that after reading the first two chapters. I loved it.

Trepidation by @cumonbucky

Summary: Everything your world was right until Bucky’s ex girlfriend came along. Bucky x reader. Completed mini series. --- This was so good, I just had to add it to the list so we can all share a mutual annoyance at how stupid Bucky was in this fic. Like is he really that clueless or is he just that stupid??? Homegirl should of had a smack down with Dot but either way I absolutely loved this fic!

[magiic-alex]

3.15.19

*Content warning for depression, suicidal thoughts, and possible eating disorder. Remember, I do tag these with magicalex personal, so you can blacklist that to avoid seeing these.*

Now playing: my gay yeehaw music for when I’m depressed

I finally mustered up the energy to get on ye old laptop to type another blog post. I just really need to vent and be depressed on main. The whole reason I came back to tumblr was so I could have a space where I can dump my feelings and feel better, so sorry not sorry. Holy shit, this past month has been the absolute worst. My depression is in full force. I sleep half of the day, or just lie in bed. My hygiene has been slacking, my energy low. I barely eat anything anymore, and when I do, it’s not healthy. Today I didn’t eat until 4 pm. I can feel my body shutting down lmao. I literally fight off my intrusive thoughts daily, and try to not think about the uselessness of living. Because my intrusive thoughts are worse than ever, my anxiety has spiked. I have absolutely no motivation anymore. I barely pumped out my photos for the Edwardian Spring Challenge that I just did, something that should have been fun, but it ended up feeling like a chore. I haven’t seen any of my friends in months because they all live an hour away. I feel trapped and alone. I feel like I’ve barely contributed to the phandom at all in the past few weeks, which used to be a shining light for me. I’m just so sad.

Last weekend I went to my cousin’s wedding in Arizona. It was the most fun that I’ve had in a long time. Being in the desert was a breath of fresh (dry) air, and seeing family was so sweet. I didn’t want to leave. I just want to run away to somewhere, like the desert or somewhere foresty. And I don’t wanna come back.

I think the main reason I’m so gosh darned sad is because I have a feeling I won’t be able to attend my dream school for grad studies. The cost is just way too high and we just can’t afford it. On top of that, I haven’t heard back from my backup school yet, and that’s not easing my anxiety one bit. Everything is out of my control, and that makes me feel so small and worthless. I have emails I need to send to people, and do you think I’ve done that? Nope. It seems so minuscule when you’re drowning.

Last night’s drama hasn’t helped. I came to tumblr to find an escape. I’m so sick of seeing the infighting on my dash over the past few weeks. Don’t like someone? Ignore them! Don’t send them anon hate! Don’t take shit out of context in order to publicly vilify them, especially if you weren’t even there for the conversation! Man, I’m trying to just keep myself alive. The last thing I wanna see is something that makes me feel bad for liking the people I do or making me feel guilty about being mentally ill.

Now I’m gonna say this as aggressively as I can: I. FUCKEN. LOVE. YOU. GUYS. Don’t take any of what I said to mean any different. This phandom is one of the best groups of people I’ve ever talked to. I cherish every conversation, every time someone mentions me or treats me as one of the group, because I feel at home. Everyone has hiccups and moments, and I always try to give people the benefit of the doubt. I ain’t hating anyone on here, because that ain’t me. When there isn’t drama on my dash, which is for the most part every day, you all bring a smile to my face. Which is what I definitely need right now...smiles in abundance!!!

To make a long fuckin’ story short, I’d feel better off dead, and I just needed to let it out. I probably sound like some whiny brat, but *Trixie and Katya voices* ~welcome to my page, where I talk about whatever I want, because it’s my blog, and not yours.~

Anyway, it took me an hour to write this. If you read this far, I’m sorry. And if you didn’t, good for you. You’re smart. You got out early.

Tah-tah for now.

[evaninepercent]

Lin Yanjun ( Harry Potter AU)

 Lin Yanjun x OC au!

In which Lin Yanjun is a Slytherin and you are a Hufflepuff, but you both fall in love despite your differences

or

You’re a reserved hufflepuff and he’s a sarcastic flirt, but, oh well.

here’s the hp au i’ve been waiting to write forever

bc im a sucker for hp aus

anyway let’s start the story shall we

so

let’s just say lin yanjun left the biggest impression on possibly everyone on the very first day all of you shy first years stepped into Hogwarts

everyone of you were huddled together, terrified and robes sopping wet bc the giant squid was having a bad day

and the atmosphere was tense and silent

until Professor McGonagall snapped

“ Please be quiet, Mr Lin!”

bc Yanjun was helluva excited on his first boat ride and wouldn’t stop chatting to his newfound friend which you would later know as You Zhangjing

you would expect him to clam up and duck his head in shame

but instead he lifted his head higher and flashed the most charming smile at the older lady and said-

“ you look absolutely gorgeouuss today, professor!”

fyi he would’ve have drained his house from their hard-earned marks if he wasn’t unsorted

but you were pretty sure he was the first student in Hogwarts to use the flirting technique on a professor bc you swore you caught a hint of flush on Professor McGonagall’s pale cheeks

thus everyone immediately dubbed the pretty dimpled asian boy as a Gryffindor

so all of you were shooketh af when the Sorting Hat screamed ‘Slytherin’ at the top of its lungs the moment it touched his head

fast forward to the present

you were a bashful daydreamer of the house of Hufflepuff

and Yanjun was the hopeless flirt of Slytherin

you didnt like Yanjun bc

ugh

he flirts with everybody

his friends, the professors, every single girl he makes eye contact with

you even saw him flirting with Moaning Myrtle once

granted, she probably enjoyed it, but still-

it was also a well-known fact that the first resort to getting him and his gang out of shit was with his flirting

and you even don’t know if its because he’s actually convincing or its just his handsome face doing the work

but it works almost every single time

though, you didnt have personal experience with his flirting until your sixth year

bc you were doing your best to avoid him lmao

but alas

guess who got paired up with you in potions

booM

the one and only lin yanjun

you can only look tearfully at your best friend Linong as he paired up with somebody else

anyway the first few weeks were absolutely terrible

he wouldn’t stop flirTING WITH YOU

“ did someone cast expelliarmus? because you got me completely disarmed.”

as much as Hufflepuffs are known for their cinnamon roll traits

you really wanted to strangle him so he can stfu

cue Linong shooting you worried glances everytime yanjun opens his mouth

and one day you just lose it

“ can you please just shut up? you’re irritating the heck out of me!”

which is really an ouch, but a girl’s gotta do what she’s gotta do

the whole class falls silent bc you?? the shy sweet hufflepuff?? is yelling at the Lin Yan Jun?? gasPP

you were half expecting yanjun to retort with some snarky ass rebuttal but he just stares at you with his wide round eyes and for the first time in history, looks ashamed of himself

“ im sorry, y/n.” he said, twiddling nervously with his robes. “ i didnt mean to make you uncomfortable.”

and the guilt kicks you hard in the stomach bc you didn’t have to be so harsh omg

anyway one Potions class and a deduction of marks from Hufflepuff later ( bc of your misconduct) you dashed out in embarrassment without even waiting for Linong so you can hide in the deepest parts of the library and drown yourself in shame and self-hate

how are you going to face your Hufflepuff friends?? your parents?? lin yanjun??

anxiety at its finest

but just when you’re about to literally entomb yourself in the library you glance up and meet eyes with the person you were abt to avoid your whole life aka yanjun

like holy shit how did he know you were here 

he gives you this anxious look before he scooted closer and sits down right next to you

then he gives you a handful of sugared butterfly wings

his sudden act sorta rendered you speechless and he mistook your silence for anger so he started to grow frantic and was like “ linong said you liked this candy and i just happen to have them but if you don’t like it i can always get you something else-”

you had to spend a whole five minutes convincing him that you were really just shooked bc who knew the flirtatious troublemaker could be so considerate?

and because you were pretty rude too, you gave him a small note of apology and a packet of your favorite toffees from the muggle world

you swore you’ve never seen him smile brighter

after that things turned out for the better between you and yanjun

he didn’t flirt with you anymore and he was actually really nice and soft?? which you didn’t realize before bc you were too blinded by your prejudice

and you even started to like yanjun and the both of you would even hang out occasionally after classes

you even found out that both of you had similar interests, like a passion for trying out new sweets and reading poems

cue you and yanjun scaring the living hell out of everybody when yall consumed pepper imps that one time in the cafeteria

both of you are the power team at potions bc who knew polar opposites could get along so well

you became one of his closest friends and even got along relatively well with his buddies

but ofc how could you forget you best friend linong, who has been by your side and cheered you up since childhood

and because you and linong have known one another for almost your whole lives you were just naturally affectionate with each other

and it just so happened that Yanjun caught Linong and you being really close and his heart just shattered when Linong reached out to squish your cheeks while you grinned up at the taller boy

the next time you had Potions you notice Yanjun being abnormally quiet so ofc you prod at him to tell you why

“ its nothing, really.” he mumbled, busying himself with cutting the ingredients.

“ oh c’mon, yanjun. just tell me!” and after much cajoling from you he finally gives in

“ its just that,” he said slowly, avoiding eye contact, “ you never told me that you and linong were an item.”

you gape at him for like 3 seconds straight before letting out an uncharacteristic snort bc no Linong is like a brother to me and besides?? he ald has a Ravenclaw girlfriend

yanjun is half relieved and half flustered bc there goes his efforts on hiding his 3 year long crush on you that stemmed and only bloomed ever since he first saw you comforting a first year who got nearly got hexed

so he can only just stare at you as he lets the blush creep up his face until you added-

“ besides,” you said, getting your courage from nowhere, “ I like guys like you.”

later on linong would tell you how yanjun’s grin was the literal epitome of the sun and swore to you up and down that he has never witnessed someone’s eyes sparkle so bright

anyhow for that day onwards you both were officially a couple

you relationship= forehead pecks, cringey but appreciated pickup lines, debates on the best Bertie Bott’s Jellybeans flavor,warm cuddles and soft passionate kisses in the library

also you both constantly friendly battle one another on who gets the better score in potions and if any of you are lacking in a certain aspect you would help each other out

throughout your relationship you would find out more endearing things about one another, like how yanjun flirts mainly bc it makes him more confident and also gives him a certain sense of accomplishment and how you cannot really hate someone bc its just in your nature

which really makes you both love each other more

ever since you both started your relationship yanjun stopped flirting as a whole and although Moaning Myrtle would be a little upset she’s actually pretty glad bc she’s lowkey done with all his starry-eyed gaze whenever he looks at you for the duration where she might have stalked him

count on linong and yanjun’s gang to support your relationship from the sidelines

yanjun is there to speak up for you when you lack the courage to do so yourself and you’re always there to have his back when he starts to doubt himself

a couple that would fight for each other

couple goalsTM