#this is VERY hot but i hate to confess that the phrasing IMMEDIATELY made me think of the vagina vore from american gods

[iwouldfuckaziraphale]

Az with a hungry little cunt, to the point where being stuffed with a cock or a toy isnt enough for him. Hed fuck himself with glass bottles, hairbrushes, anything, just to feel full to bursting. And crowley playing along, inviting a friend along and seeing exactly how much he can fit (a handle full of pens, a cucumber, a candle) before his angel breaks

[idy-ll-ique]

Blurry Lines.

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: MISCOMMUNICATION because oh my god just talk

Requested: nope

Summary: Y/N works for James Barnes, CEO of a very successful tech company. She also has a massive crush on him. One day, she walks in on him kissing his assistant, and a few months in, because of the incident, she turns in her resignation letter. But will Bucky let her go? There's a thin line between professionalism and non-professionalism, blurred in the case of Bucky and Y/N.

Author's Note: hiya peeps! could've just named it "a shakespeare play" because of all the miscommunication but i already have a fic with shakespeare in its title asfhdkfks,,, anyway enjoy!

masterlist

---

There he is.

The man who ruined my whole life.

Y/N stared as her boss, James Barnes, left the elevator, greeting everyone with a polite smile and a wave. Why did he have to be so perfect all the time? He wore a sky-blue-colored suit with a white shirt underneath, his long hair pulled back into a bun with loose strands framing his face, making him look like a Greek God.

She had fallen for him, which was a big, big, big mistake. 1, he was her boss; 2, he was way out of her league, and 3, he probably had a girlfriend because a man like that, single? Hah, no way. "Y/N? Y/N, hello?" She snapped out of her thoughts and looked up, giving the man a small, forced smile.

"Hi, Mr Barnes, good morning." Bucky's smile faltered a bit at her words because she never called him Mr Barnes, he had specifically requested her to call him Bucky. Was he in trouble? "Mr Barnes? Whoa, what did I do?" he joked, though Y/N realized he was being serious. "Sorry, must've slipped out."

"Okay. Good morning to you, too!" He smiled and went to his office. As soon he turned his back to her, Y/N dropped her smile and scowled, crossing her arms. "Stupid man with his stupid attitude and his stupid handsome smile and his idiotic, beautiful blue eyes," she grumbled under her breath as she continued working.

Y/N Y/L/N was an employee of the one and only James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes, CEO of a big tech company called Epsilon. She loved working with him; he paid his employees well, was very kind-hearted, and showed no bias to anyone. When she had first started working with him, she wasn't interested in him at all, romantically speaking.

Then, a few months passed by and she started looking forward to his everyday arrival; seeing him get out of the elevator with his gorgeous eyes, his expensive suits and Cheshire grins became the favorite part of her day. Y/N was damn good at hiding her crush though; she was sure that it would go away with time.

But it didn't.

2 years had now passed since she started working for Bucky and the crush was still there, more amplified than before. But she knew it would never work out between them. So she started distancing herself from him. For some reason, he was very, very friendly with her; she knew he was a reserved man so it was peculiar…

He would be holed up in his office the whole day after greeting everyone. Hell, the only words he ever said to his employees were "good morning" and "goodnight, I'll see you all tomorrow" while the rest of his notices were passed on to them by his assistant.

Still, he always stayed at her desk the longest, making small talk. "The weather is nice today, any plans after work?" he'd ask one day while, "You look gorgeous today, is that a new dress?" the other. It was odd; why did he do it? He certainly couldn't be interested in her, could he?

Y/N sighed, sorting through the stack of papers on her desk when she suddenly noticed that one of them was missing Bucky's signature. She glanced at his assistant's desk; she was nowhere to be found so Y/N got up, walking to Bucky's office to get the signature herself.

She knocked on the door but accidentally pushed it open. The sight that greeted her probably scarred her for life; inside Bucky's office, he was kissing his assistant, pushed up against his desk. Y/N's eyes widened and she immediately turned around to leave, the clicking of her heels alerting Bucky.

"Get off of me," he grumbled, pushing his assistant away as he ran to the door, looking out to see Y/N walking away. "Y/N! Y/N!" She turned around at the sound of his voice and gave him an awkward smile. "I didn't mean to walk in without permission, I'm really sorry, I just needed a signature on a paper, really didn't mean to—"

He waved his arm in dismissal and took the paper from her hands, signing it and handing it back to her. "It's fine." He gave her a small smile as she turned to leave. Bucky then groaned quietly and went back to his office, glaring at his assistant. "What the fuck was that?" he hissed. "You like me!" she whined and he scrunched his nose in disgust.

"What— when did I ever tell you that?! I'm not interested in you," he spat. "So all those glances you gave me, all the times you flirted with me, that was fake?" she shrieked. "Stop yelling," he admonished, "And for the record, I have never once in my life ever flirted with you or glanced at you in any way except professionally. Please snap out of your daydream."

"So what about the kiss?"

"You didn't give me time to push away! And now poor Y/N probably thinks I'm some sort of a playboy who takes advantage of women that work for me— you know what? You're fired. Don't ever show up to his place again." His assistant wailed, her eyes filled with tears.

"I knew it. I knew you liked her!" she accused him and he scoffed. "I don't like her. Now get lost, I have a lot of work to do." She stormed out of his office. The angry clicking of her heels made Y/N and the rest of the employees look up as she staggered towards the elevator. Y/N frowned; what the hell was going on?

"What do you think is up with her?" her friend Rubie whispered. "I have no idea, I caught her making out with Bu— Mr Barnes. I guess they fought?" Rubie's eyes went wide. "You mean he isn't into her? Damn, the bosses always fall for their hot ass assistants, what happened here?" Y/N giggled at her words.

"Well, at least my theory is confirmed."

"What theory?" Y/N blinked. "That he likes you! Think about it; he always greets you with some extra phrases, he always praises your work, and now after you caught him kissing someone else he gets into a fight with them, possibly breaking up. Some of the other women are jealous of you, you know. They think you're super close with him."

"What?!" Y/N harshly whispered, "Utter bullshit. I'm not close with him in any way, he's just my boss and I'm sure they just got into one tiny fight. I swear shit's gonna be back to normal tomorrow." With that, the two got back to work.

---

Shit did not go back to normal tomorrow.

Or for months after that.

Bucky's assistant never really came back, leading many to believe that she had quit. Bucky had become more moody and temperamental, while Y/N's crush on him had escalated to new heights which was frankly taking a toll on her mental health. "I can't keep living like that. I'll just quit and get another job."

Those were the words she had whispered to herself one night as she lay in bed, unable to fall asleep. Bucky, on the other hand, had come to realize that his assistant was right; he did indeed have feelings for Y/N and all he wanted to do was confess them to her and get it over with.

Realizing he couldn't have her and that she only thought of him as her boss had made him moody and angry. While walking from the elevator to his office he no longer greeted her; he couldn't even bear to see her, knowing she was never gonna be his. Y/N, of course, interpreted it in a different way entirely.

She thought he had broken up with his assistant because she caught them making out, and now he hated her for getting in between his relationship. That created a whole new array of problems.

"Hey, whatcha doing?" Rubie peered over Y/N's shoulders as she quickly wrote down her resignation letter. "I'm quitting." Rubie gasped. "You can't do that! Why are you quitting?!" she whined. "Number 1: He fucking hates me; number 2: I still like him and that's a massive problem so yeah, leaving this place is the only good option."

She stood up. "Well, I can't talk you out of it, can I? I'm gonna miss you, Y/N," Rubie sighed and the two ladies gave each other a hug. Then Y/N went to the new assistant's desk, greeting him with a small smile. "Hi, will you please give this to Mr Barnes?" She handed him the letter.

"What's this?" he smiled. "My resignation letter." The smile disappeared from his face, a frown replacing it. "Why are you quitting? Is everything okay?" She pursed her lips. "I'd rather not talk about it, sorry. Just give him my letter, would ya? Thank you." The man nodded and she went back to her desk.

---

"Hey, Ryan— what's this?"

Ryan turned to see Bucky glaring at Y/N's resignation letter. "Oh, sir, that is Ms Y/L/N's resignation letter." Bucky nodded and Ryan left the office. Bucky read the letter, his glare deepening by the time he reached the end of it. She hadn't even specified why she was quitting; it came out of the blue. I can't let her do this.

He couldn't just let her quit like that, he loved her for God's sake! "I'm not letting her go," he snarled to himself, getting up and walking out of his office. When he walked out everyone turned to look at him. "Ms Y/L/N, can I see you for a moment? In my office?" Y/N frowned but got up, following him to his office.

"What's this?" Bucky asked her, holding up her letter. "My… resignation letter?" Y/N replied slowly, confused. "Yeah, I know, I can read. Why are you quitting all of a sudden?" he huffed. "I'd rather not say," she mumbled, suddenly feeling anxious. "What do you mean, you'd rather not say? Did you get into a fight?"

Yeah, with you, idiot.

"No, sir."

"Is it pay? I'll give you a raise right now—"

"It's not that, Bucky. I— I mean Mr—"

"Bucky is fine. So? Is someone troubling you? Someone I need to fire?"

"No. I just want to quit, why can't you accept that?!" Bucky stood up, slamming his hands on his desk. "You have to give me a legit reason! Vague answers will not be accepted!" Y/N glared back at him and the silence stretched on between them. "Wait a minute," Bucky exclaimed suddenly, "I know what's going on here—"

"What could you possibly know?" Y/N quipped sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "This is about that whole Marie thing, isn't it? Y/N, plea—" "No, Bucky! It's not! Why can't you just let me quit in peace?!" she yelled, interrupting him. Months of frustration had finally taken a toll on her.

"Give me an answer and I'll consider it!" he thundered and she took a step back, shocked. Maybe telling him the truth would speed up the process, she thought. "Fine, you wanna know why? Because I'm in love with you. Yes, Mr Barnes, I fucking love you and I can't keep working here knowing you're never gonna like me back!"

"Y/N…" Bucky whispered but she ignored him. "No, you listen to me. You wanted an answer? Well, here it is. I know you hate me for ruining things with Marie and this is the only best option for the both of us!" Bucky couldn't believe his ears. All this time, she'd liked him back. He walked around his desk without her noticing; she was still rambling to herself.

"And why would you even like me back? You don't even say hello anymore—"

Y/N froze when Bucky's lips crashed onto hers, his hands going to her waist to pull her closer to him. A few seconds later she reciprocated, her arms going around his neck. Without breaking the kiss Bucky turned them and picked her up, putting her down on his desk. She wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Feels like we're in a Shakespeare play with all this miscommunication," Bucky laughed when they finally pulled away to breathe. "You like me too? But what about Marie—" He scoffed. "Marie and I were never a thing, she came onto me and I fired her. Before going she said something about me liking you…"

"So?"

"Well at the time I denied it but then… she turned out to be right. And after that, talking to you became difficult because I knew I could never have you, you'd never see me in that way… boy if we'd just talked." Y/N giggled, simply happy to be in Bucky's arms. "What now? What are we?" Bucky traced a finger down her cheek.

"Don't leave me. Please, don't go," he pleaded. "Bucky, we work together, it'll be extremely unprofessional. I— I'm ready to be your girlfriend but I can't work here anymore." Bucky sighed and dropped his head to her shoulder. "Fine, but just because you said yes to being my girl. I'm so in love with you too, pretty face," he chuckled.

Y/N wrapped her arms around his shoulders, smiling. "I'm glad to hear it." He suddenly pulled away, giving her a devilish smirk. "Wanna get outta here?" Y/N's eyes widened. "Wh— now? Bucky, we—" He scoffed. "I'm still your boss, you know, you do as I say." Y/N rolled her eyes. "Do I have to deal with this while being in a rela—"

"Let's just go," Bucky groaned, pulling her to her feet and snaking an arm around her waist as they both left his office, heading to the elevators. Everyone working that day looked up, their jaws going slack as they saw the two with lovey-dovey smiles, fawning over each other. Rubie simply smirked at her friend.

"Oh please, she's quitting!" Bucky rolled his eyes when he noticed the stares. Everyone then only shook their heads and got back to work as Y/N lightly slapped Bucky on the chest, sighing.

---

A/N: Thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!

[idreamtofmanderleyagain]

Hot takes about Severus Snape are a wierdly decent glimpse into how a person with progressive values analyses things. Literally every time someone talks about Snape, it’s like this tiny window into how one-dimentionally people actually think.

Recently saw a twitter post that was a fantastic example. Here’s how it goes (paraphrasing):

Person A:“Snape is POC and Queer coded, that’s why you guy’s hate him uwu lol.”

Person B: “Actually I hate him because he was mean and abusive to children under his care uwu but go off I guess lol”

Both of these takes are designed to be dramatic and/or reactionary. They each use partial truths to paint very broad strokes. These are get-em-in-one-hit quips. This is virtue signalling, if you’ll excuse that loaded phrase. Nobody had a substantial conversation, but now everyone who sees their statement knows the high ground they took.

At least a hundred other people chimed in to add their own little quippy hot takes into play, none of which add anything significant, but clearly made everyone feel very highly of themselves.

So many layers of nuance and complex analysis is completely lost in this kind of discussion. On tumblr, you get more of this kind of bullshit, but you don’t have a word count limit, so you guys just spew endless mountains of weak overblown evidence backing up your bullshit arguments, none of which was really about engaging in a real conversation anyway.

Here’s the thing about Snape.

He is a childhood domestic abuse victim. His abuser is a muggle.

He becomes a student at a magical school that takes him away from his abuser and immediately instills in him the idea that being a part of this magical world is a badge of self-worth, empowerment, and provides safety and security - provided that he keeps in line.

There is a war is being waged in that world over his right to exist (he is a half blood).

He is a marginalized person within the context of the narrative, forced to constantly be in the same living space as the children of his own oppressors who are being groomed and recruited into a hate group militia (the pureblood slytherins). They are in turn trying to do the same to him.

He is marginalized person bullied by children who are also part of his oppressor group, but who have “more liberal” leanings and aren’t direct about why he’s being targeted (the mauraders are all purebloods, Sirius, who was the worst offender, was raised in a bigoted household, the same one that produced Bellatrix.).

He had a crush on a girl who is a muggleborn, and therefore she is considered even lesser than him and carries a stigma to those who associate with her. That girl was his only real friend. In his entire life.

For both Snape and Lily, allying themselves to a pureblood clique within their own houses would be a great way of shielding themselves from a measure of the bigotry they were probably facing. There would have been obvious pressure from those cliques to disconnect with one and other.

Every other person who associates with Snape in his adulthood carries some sort of sociopolitical or workplace (or hate cult) baggage with their association. Some of them will physically harm and/or kill him if he steps out of line. He hasn’t at any point had the right environment to heal and adjust from these childhood experiences. Even his relationship with Dumbledore is charged with constant baggage, including the purebloods who almost killed him during their bullying getting a slap on the wrist, the werewolf that almost killed him as a child being placed in an authority position over new children, etc. Dumbledore is canonically manipulative no matter his good qualities, and he has literally been manipulating Snape for years in order to cultivate a necessary asset in the war.

He is a person who is not in the stable mental state necessary to be teaching children, whom has been forced to teach children. While also playing the role of double agent against the hate group militia, the one that will literally torture you for mistakes or backtalk or just for fun. The one that will torture and kill him if he makes one wrong move.

Is the math clicking yet? From all of this, it’s not difficult to see how everything shitty about Snape was cultivated for him by his environment. Snape was not given great options. Snape made amazingly awful choices, and also some amazingly difficult, courageous ones. Snape was ultimately a human who had an extremely bad life, in which his options were incredibly grim and limited.

In fact, pretty much every point people make about how shitty Snape is as a person makes 100% logical sense as something that would emerge from how he was treated. Some if it he’s kind of right about, some of it is the inevitable reality of suffering, and some of it is part of the cycle of abuse and harm.

Even Snape’s emotional obsession with Lily makes logical sense when you have the perspective that he literally has no substantial positive experiences with other human beings that we know of, and he has an extreme, soul destroying guilt complex over her death. Calling him an Incel mysoginist nice guy projects a real-world political ideology and behavior that does not really apply to the context of what happened to him and her.

Even Snape’s specific little acts of cruelty to certain students is a reflection of his own life experiences. He identifies with Neville; more specifically, he identifies his own percieved emotional weaknesses in his childhood in Neville. There’s a very sad reason there why he feels the urge to be so harsh.

Snape very clearly hates himself, in a world where everyone else hates him, too. Imagine that, for a second. Imagine total internal and external hatred, an yearning for just a little bit of true connection. For years. Imagine then also trying to save that world, even if it’s motivated by guilt. Even if nobody ever knows you did it and you expect to die a miserable death alone.

There are more elements here to consider, including the way Rowling described his looks (there may be something in there re: ugliness and swarthy stereotyping). These are just the things that stand out the most prominently to me.

J.K. Rowling is clearly also not reliable as an imparter of moral or sociopolitical philosophies. I don’t feel that her grasp of minority experiences is a solid one, considering how she picks and chooses who is acceptable and who is a threat.

All of that said, this is a logically consistent character arc. Within the context of his narrative, Snape is a marginalized person with severe PTSD and emotional instability issues who has absolutely no room available to him for self-improvement or healing, and never really has. And yes, he’s also mean, and caustic, and verbally abusive to the students. He’s also a completey miserable, lonely person.

There are elements in his character arc that mirror real world experiences quite well. If nothing else, Rowling is enough of an emotional adult to recognise these kinds of things and portray something that feels authentic.

In my opinion, it’s not appropriate to whittle all this down by comparing him directly to the real world experiences of marginalized groups - at least if you are not a part of the group you are comparing him to. There have been many individuals who have compared his arc to their own personal experiences of marginalization, and that is valid. But generally speaking, comparing a white straight dude to people who are not that can often be pretty offensive. This is not a valuable way to discuss either subject.

Also, I believe that while it’s perfectly okay to not like Snape as a character, many of the people who act like Person B are carrying Harry’s childhood POV about Snape in their hearts well into their own adulthood. And if nothing else, Rowling was attempting to say something here about how our perspectives (should) grow and change as we emotionally mature.  She doesn’t have to be a good person herself to have expressed something true about the world in this instance, and since this story is a part of our popular culture, people have a right to feel whatever way they do about this story and it’s characters.

The complexity of this particular snapshot of fictionalized marginalization, and what it reveals about the human experience, cannot be reduced down to “he’s an abuser so he’s not worth anyone’s time/you are bad for liking him.”

And to be honest, I think that it reveals a lot about many of us in progressive spaces, particularly those of us who less marginalized but very loud about our values, that we refuse to engage with these complexities in leu of totally condemning him. Particularly because a lot of the elements I listed above are indeed reflected in real world examples of people who have experienced marginalization and thus had to deal with the resulting emotional damage, an mental illness, and behavior troubles, and bad decisions. Our inability to address the full scope of this may be a good reflection of how we are handling the complexity of real world examples.

Real people are not perfect angels in their victimhood. They are just humans who are victims, and we all have the capacity to be cruel and abusive in a world where we have been given cruelty and abuse. This is just a part of existing. If you cannot sympathise with that, or at least grasp it and aknowledge it and respect the people who are emotionally drawn to a character who refects that, then you may be telling on yourself to be honest.

To be honest, this is especially true if you hate Snape but just really, really love the Mauraduers. You have a right to those feelings, but if you are moralizing this and judging others for liking Snape, you’ve confessed to something about how you’ve mentally constructed your personal values in a way I don’t think you’ve fully grasped yet.

I have a hard time imagining a mindset where a story like Snape’s does not move one to empathy and vicarious grief, if I’m honest. I feel like some people really just cannot be bothered to imagine themselves in other people’s shoes, feeling what they feel and living like they live. I struggle to trust the social politics of people who show these kinds of colors, tbh.

But maybe that’s just me.

[jae-canikeepyou]

| muse | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: art student!jaehyun + art student!yn

a/n: thought this on a whim whilst reminiscing my art portfolio, so we’ll see how you’ll like this with yuno in it. not the best i’ve written but hope you enjoy reading 💞😉 ~j

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with jaehyun, there were three things that happened uncontrollably. one was he caused your heart to skip; two, your chest to feel all giddy; and three, your stomach to capsize. why you may ask? it was his very presence in the art academy which had heads turning and lips to whisper words of awe. he was labelled and called a prodigy.

be it in any medium of art, he was blessed to have such a talent that his parents thought it’d be a waste if not enhanced or put attention to. even your professors favored him and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t jealous. despite his princely looks, he could sometimes be a total snob. he’d be in a good mood the first hour and then changed completely in the next. oh the duality, you couldn’t understand him at all.

though question marks continued to fill your head, let’s just say you had a tad advantage compared to girls who were overly thirsting for him; he was your classmate, a major in fine arts. sometimes you unconsciously found yourself sniffing his perfume each time he helped you with the shading of portrait drawings you worked upon. he was that close. as much as you loved seeing him almost every day, you hated at the fact you still didn’t know the ways to calm your loving facial expression towards him.

it was a funny sight —at least to your friends— that they could see how elongated your nose grew every time you deny your feelings for him. yet as time passed the possibility of your admiration might turn into romantic feelings instead. there wasn’t a need to prove to you since your friends have pointed it out already.

but you yourself wasn’t too sure about it.

“please,” hyejin popped with a huge round of an eyeroll at your oblivion. legs crossed as she chewed her bubblegum. “y/n, admit that you like him. it isn’t that hard to say out loud.”

other students, including your studio tutor held in their giggles in the midst of the silence within the room. true enough hyejin was the mood maker.

her words made you stop painting the colours that were meant to accentuate the highlights of the subject. “i’m not like you who’s very expressive in words.” you replied, taking few peeks at your surroundings in case anyone eavesdrop.

hyejin wasn’t supposed to be in the studio today. she was a literature student where writing poetry was her forte. but because your tutor appreciated her effort to promote the visual arts department in the school paper, her going to the studio with you became a normal thing.

“it doesn’t have to be in words. like, i don’t know? paint some canvas and pour out your feelings through colours? yellow’s joy or purple’s dazzling or red is love-” she stopped as you gave her an annoyed gaze. “i’m sure he’ll get it. he’s not called a prodigy for nothing.”

“painting is not done on a whim, hyejin.” you emphasised, not noticing the stress put upon your work. “it takes time and thinking and creativ-”

“yeah yeah,” she made her bubble burst, which by the way irritated you since it gave off the impression that she wasn’t listening to you at all. “abstract seems so random though. no thinking there.”

you pointed the brush at her, yet careful enough that it doesn’t touch her nose. if another word comes from her mouth, you wouldn’t hesitate staining it. “sis, shapes are used instead of virtual reality, so abstract still needs thinking. you just express it differently.” hearing this, hyejin paused for a while before deciding which reaction to give, and with that you were satisfied into silencing her for a while. “now you know how i feel when i don’t understand shakespeare’s ‘love looks not with eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged cupid painted blind’.”

she let out a scoff, “pfft, you’re the cupid in that quote. you can’t even see that you like mr. prodigy so much.”

jaehyun gently opened the door and handed a paper slip to the tutor, which apparently was a doctor’s certificate. due to his arrival, hyejin elbowed you so hard that its force caused you to jolt in your seat then knocking two of the glassed jars placed on the narrow deck of your easel.

the tutor looked at your direction, and lowered his specs at the noise. flustered than you ever were in your entire life, you took the dust pan. you tried your best to not match eyes with jaehyun who was now smiling from second hand embarrassment. at farthest decibel your ears could handle, you could hear hyejin sneering with huffed laughs.

“i’m gonna kill you.” you mouthed from a table away and gave her a warning look. you gestured the phrase, followed by a scowl to refer her teasing tongue.

“i’ll help, y/n.” jaehyun offered, but you assured him it was fine. “what’re you working on?” he asked as you both walked back to the tables, he took out his tools and unfinished work.

this time was the season of cramming hours into a tight schedule, there were many initial stages/assignments due and portfolios to be completed. you guessed it was natural for you both to update each other regarding progress. “just giving more highlights and tweaks, then i’ll start on the portraits.”

he only pressed a smile, a breathy chuckle as a response while he focused on his art. “do you still need my help on shading?”

“i think i got the hang of it. thanks.” you damped the brush with water.

“alright, if you need me, i’m just here.”

your eyes shot down to your pockets, quickly answering the phone to quiet down the “supposedly” soundless vibration. and you wished you didn’t fished out the device if you knew that the message was from hyejin.

[18:45] hyejin: damn it y/n, confess already! 🤪

[18:45] you: if you could shut up maybe i will?? i could hear your voice haunting me 🙃

[18:46] hyejin: if there’s no progress today, i’m so gonna take action & tell him myself 😌

[18:47] you: ugh anything but that pls 😣

the thing with being associated with the arts was that time immediately had gone passed when you’re so concentrated. everything else faded away and in that momentum, it was just the art and you. jaehyun felt this once he picked up his brush or pencil. voices in his head whispered and guided him what to do with the creativity still yet to be shown in the world.

among all the students he bonded with, there was one whom perked his interest..

you.

as mentioned, his current surroundings blurred whilst he was sucked into another dimension of concentration. but you went there with him and appeared clear. seemed a scene out of an alternate reality in his perspective, or dramatic to some people. he was intrigued.

since knowing you, he expected to sought this mutual interest deeper. if he was the beautiful, detailed canvas everyone saw in an exhibition, you were the opposite; abstract, unpredictable and rough, someone who was overlooked because others couldn’t understand the depths and entirety of you.

finishing the last layer of the painting, you stretched to sooth the numbness. the professor reminded about the last few minutes before wrapping up the class and, he handed the room keys to you. for this tutorial, students have the choice to stay behind or leave. hyejin left with the others, leaving you alone with jaehyun. whether she did that on purpose, she’d do anything to let you be alone with him.

“oh? you’re done with yours?” jaehyun shifted sideways to take a better view of your work. he looked satisfied with the way his dimples hollowed. “hm. my advise is effective.”

“yeah, you’re a life saver.” you sighed as you looked at how completed the artwork was, then trailing your eyes to him again.

“i’m proud of you.” he winked, only to blush afterwards when his stomach growled. “i wish you didn’t hear that.”

coincidently, you tossed your wallet in the air. “good timing, i’m just about to head out to the cafeteria. want anything? my treat because you helped me.” you extolled with your mood in completely positivity. jaehyun became your inspiration and for now you weren’t able to bring yourself to tell him that.

hopefully soon though— when you have the courage.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the sleepiness in your eyes only needed ten percent more to push your lids down, the queue was unexpectedly long at this hour. it was only until minutes later had you known that another department organised a party nearby. the wait for the order would be troublesome; that’d be in the fact there were girls right behind, their gaze burning into your skin as if you were an enemy of theirs. and somehow you knew,

they might be jaehyun’s admirers.

they whispered to each other, words audible enough for your hearing and you pretended to be listening to music.

and how you wished you should’ve.

“do you know why jaehyun took fine arts?” one asked.

an intrigued response caught you walking on a tight rope. this can’t be good. “sounds like you know the reason.”

“it’s been spreading around recently..” there was a pause that had you wondering even if you knew you shouldn’t believe in any of rumours from them. “i heard the studio has this session to draw the human body and the figures. like y’know.. no clothes?”

sigh, there wasn’t even any classes for those this semester, you thought.

few giggles were heard before they spoke again. “you’re saying he’s perverted?”

“maybe? i wouldn’t be surprised if it were true.”

“isn’t that kinda hot? his eyes starting into-”

you nearly dropped jaehyun’s food and trip over an extension wire hearing that. breathing slowly and steadily, you convinced yourself that what you heard was false. he wasn’t the type of guy they assumed he was.

as much as you wanted to prove them wrong, it wasn’t your place to speak out when the friendship you have with him was not to the level of best friends. so you rushed back to the studio, not noticing your blown-away hair and burning face. what was amusing after hearing the tea, you didn’t know why you reacted in that manner. did you leave because you couldn’t stand eavesdropping any longer? or did you run due to the fact the fantasies they had were about to enter your mind?

the door was opened with a force that jaehyun looked up from his work, smiling at your quick purchase. “whoa careful there. you didn’t have to run.” he chuckled and went to your table. he took his favourite spicy cake and placed it on top heavily. the force he exerted with his hands was the total opposite to when he dealt with art. somewhere in you, you’d say it was a 0.1 percent a turn-off.

“hey, it’s food. handle with care, it’s a blessing.” you said, munching on your share of the dishes.

jaehyun clasped his palms together, bowed his head and closed his eyes. he faced you and you sat there with a confused look. “thank you y/n, you’re an angel for treating me.”

soon after, you received a message from your professor about taking out some of the tools needed for tomorrow. holding the sandwich wrap between your lips, you took a closer look at the right keys before unlocking the storage room, opening the door afterwards.

it was at least the size of two toilet cubicles, not even close to a room’s walk-in closet. the thin cabinets against both sides of the wall were two feet, and the remaining space in the middle could fit a person’s leg, stretched out. the new set of canvases were placed on the top shelf. for someone like you, it wasn’t possible to reach them on tiptoes. you grabbed a chair and stacked two tins of paint for your feet to stand upon.

if you still couldn’t reach them.. eh, bummer. disturbing jaehyun who was enjoying his meal would be rude. you weren’t that type of person to suddenly feel as if you were already close to someone. the icky and dusty feeling on your fingertips nearly had you gagging.

“jaehyun?” you called out, apparently you’ve given up in trying another attempt. “i need a hand.”

there was a long pause as to why he didn’t respond immediately. maybe you should’ve have disturbed him? but you soon rolled your eyes when a mannequin’s hand was thrown to you. his snickers was supposedly an adorable thing to hear, this kind of wasn’t, because you desperately needed help now. “jeong jaehyun!”

he hummed right after you mentioned his name the second time. “i’m just messing around. but does that mean you’ll treat me again? i helped you.” his voice sounding with excitement.

you nodded, your anger long forgotten but he could tell there was conflict in your head. “i’ll consider it, so help me before i smack you with this plastic hand.” your tone slightly straining since you didn’t feel him entering the room.

“yeah. coming.” he said, giggling at your impatience. as you tried to reach out for the canvases again, the light behind you slowly dimmed.

that was weird. “hey, it’s getting dark in here.” you said.

before he could say anything, the door slowly closed and that made you raise a brow. he noticed this too and looked into your eyes when the light within the room soon disappeared. “ah sorry, i must’ve kicked the door stopper.” even in the dark, you could tell he was flustered from his actions. “i’ll open it.”

however his groans and vigorous sounds from the door knob stated otherwise. “what?” you heard him raise his voice.

“what’s wrong?” you hopped off the tins and grabbed the knob, twisting it clockwise then anti-clockwise. “it’s jammed.”

you both panicked because the night wasn’t getting any younger. there were things to finish and deadlines were drawing closer. before, you thought of procrastinating even when necessary. but procrastinating like this wasn’t part of the plan.

how was it possible for the knob to be jammed? the door wasn’t closed in an impact that would cause its components to be broken. sure jaehyun was reckless and couldn’t control his strength but that really wasn’t the issue here.

the actual issue was that you were going be stuck with him for who knows until when. stuck in a sense there were just enough space for two people. jaehyun fumbled his pockets in search of his phone, an annoyed groan told you it was bad news. “call someone. my battery just died and my powerbank’s outside.”

quickly you fished out your phone, only to find that it had the same fate. “ugh i have 10% left.” you slumped your sides to the shelves like there was no hope. “i’ll try to text hyejin.”

“hm i hope she’s not too far from the campus.” jaehyun leaned against the shelves opposite from you, his expression definitely amused with your reaction. a scoff of disbelief escaped your dry lips, sliding the phone to the shelf as you put your hair on one side. “that doesn’t sound good. what did she say?”

for all the things hyejin could do to help you get out of there, she’d rather sit and tease every single nerve of your body. “she said ‘you both just made your own seven minutes in heaven! i’m laughing out loud right now.’”

and for the things you thought jaehyun would disagree with your friend, he didn’t. it surprised you when his held-in giggles came bursting out from his chest. “it’s exciting. don’t you think?” he chuckled. “this is something you see in movies.”

“okay. tell me, what’s exciting about being locked-”

“we can ask each other questions. or any topic you’d like to talk about. i wanna know more about you.” he suggested, shutting you up because if he didn’t, you’d be quite a complainer. jaehyun bent to a squat, later stretching his legs until the soles reached the sides of your hips. “i rarely get the chance to talk to you properly and i guess this is the day, so scoot over.” he gestured you to move aside a little.

“gee i wonder why?” your voice came out sarcastically. “i don’t ignore people unlike a certain someone.”

“just sit down, will you?” jaehyun seemed to take the fact to heart.

you complied and sat exact the same as he did. the tiled floor sent cool to your legs but it didn’t really matter. jaehyun began by asking how you got into art; what motivated you to choose this field. “it’s just a childhood dream of mine to keep expanding my creativity. i wanna teach kids the joy in paint, that we’re not limited to using tools. i started painting with my hands and fingers when i was five.”

“really? i’m the same, except i was three when i painted.” his dimples deepening.

though you did answer him, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him the whole story. you were just par in the arts, an average joe and always felt like your professors tied your wings together to express what you really wanted. every proposal you presented were rejected. if lucky, it still wasn’t good enough. not enough to reach jaehyun’s standards and world.

his shoes hit your hips again, the nudges were light and made you look to him. “your turn.” he said.

your eyes wander the dark room, the thin light from the sides of the door showing the outline of his face. “is it good? being called something you never wanted to be? did you know you’re gifted as a kid?”

“do you want my honest opinion?” he brought one leg to his chest, forearm resting on it as he start to ponder. hearing the soft shuffles from you in agreement, he gulped his dry throat to say the one thing he longed to say.

“i don’t like it.”

beyond speechless. you thought maybe he’d like the feeling of being center of attraction, or praised to have a skill that was out of this world. while you’d like to know what it felt like, it already told you enough that he wouldn’t want to be referred to as a prodigy. “not even a single bit?” alarmed, you squinted your eyes and he shook his head.

“i used to like it at first.. now i don’t,” jaehyun admitted but his face had changed the moment you asked him the one thing he never wanted to look back. “..because i was set apart from kids my age and they view me differently, nor have they ever treated me like every kid in the block.“

he continued how parents would tell him he was ‘inspiring’ or ‘i wish i had a kid like you; dedicated, and talented’. the claim have made him proud, yet this caused insecurity to most of his friends, and they distanced themselves from him. what was once the same ground they stood upon, it had quaked the earth and caused a wide gap. jaehyun hated the feeling of isolation by the will of others. though he had tried many times to reach out to them..

the gap continued to widen.

“there’s not much of a difference now.” he whispered yet audible enough for you to hear. ”i still have less friends. countable with fingers.. on one hand.”

probably the reason why he looked like a snob then.

“i see. so am i?.. part of your ‘friends’?” he heard you ask when reality hits you that you shouldn’t have said your thoughts out loud. closing your eyes for a bit, you heard the shift in his weight, he didn’t answer right away. it was as if he was still finding the words.

but he sat right beside you. “you’re already one when we both entered this classroom. i had a hunch you’ll be one i’ll treasure.”

if anyone was told the way he did just now, it would definitely make them smile. that was his honest opinion and you couldn’t help but smile at his words. he seemed to notice this too and let out a chuckle that was always music to your ears. “should we try to open the door again?” you changed the topic to avoid the awkward smile creeping your face. your hands gripped the knob and jaehyun tugged the hems of your jeans.

“y/n, if you do it further we’ll be damned if hyejin couldn’t open from the outside.” he stood that he was already behind you. “i’m not stopping you from trying though.”

“f-fine.” you leaned against the door, soothing your legs that experienced paresthesia. jaehyun pat your head like he always did whenever you unintentionally embarrass yourself, be it art or not whatsoever. “i just can’t seem to stay still.” oh gosh i don’t know what i’d do if i’m alone with him.

“yeah clearly.” he shrugged.

you had a scowled face and glad he didn’t see it. “the place’s so cramped-” you continued, walking to the chair you once stood on, only to lose balance when the shelves you held for support gave in to collapse from the weight it carried. with weight, the whole furniture wobbled to fall.

in a split second you felt yourself being lifted off the ground, a strong arm wrapping around your frame and saw yourself at the opposing side of the room. jaehyun closed into you as he managed to stop the some items from falling. the entire body of the cabinet covered and trapped you both in a tight place. the furniture tilted right behind him. one small move, the items could injure two and he didn’t want to risk that.

he could feel your breath touch his shirt and with the way you held his clothes, you definitely didn’t see this coming. “are you okay?” he thought there was a possibility of squishing you.

“uncomfortable, but i’ll manage.. somehow.” you honestly replied because there was no point in lying to him.. physically speaking, he’d know what you feel since he himself was also in discomfort. anyway, with your answer, this marked the third silence as there was another one creating yet another gap in the conversation.

okay y/n. you told yourself. you made everything awkward than before. first was you asked whether you were friends, which you already were. second was your stupid and careless behaviour that led to the position you’re both in now.

“what about you?” you asked after seeing the huge frame towering over both of your bodies, mostly onto his. so maybe that was another unnecessary question to ask.

jaehyun gulped and fixed his one of his palms that he gripped on the shelf behind you. you could see his adam’s apple move up and down, struggling to breathe. he pushed backwards to be able to see your face. tilting his head down, that movement alone made you look up. “uncomfortable, but i’ll somehow manage.” he smiled even though you knew he wasn’t.

“you know you’ll earn zero marks if you copy my answer.” you giggled, remembering the professor’s words at the beginning of the semester.

he flicked your forehead as he agreed with the obvious statement. “i heard him. anyway, it’s my turn to ask.”

“are we really playing the game now? can we at least try to figure how to get out of this position?” you began to whine and threw your head back where you hit your head, and you didn’t care how shameful you felt. you knew you wouldn’t stand any longer, your legs started to weaken because of stress— stress from everything jaehyun managed to make you feel, that included the little smiles and especially his hand around your waist.

jaehyun didn’t know why he put his palms behind your head before the incident happened but he knew he had to, with the way you flustered so much. he figured that you weren’t used to situations like these.

however a memory slipped into his mind that you were always your usual self with other guys around. he noticed how you held or hiccuped a breath whenever you both conversed. you and him weren’t particularly close to begin with, just enough to pass as friends and maybe it was his love for art that brought that gap closer to you.

right now? perhaps too close. literally.

“why not? it gets more fun.” he tried to hide the smile creeping his lips; at the sight of how irritated you were beneath him and he actually considered your plead to get you both to safety. but maybe he’d like to enjoy a little bit before doing so. “besides, there’s no way we can move properly with a lot of things blocking our surroundings.”

on both sides, the two of you were encased with large items and materials that were affected by the impact. “tsk.” you tilted your head to avoid looking at him. “at least try to push the huge cabinet?”

he did as he was told and from the grunts and exhausted voice, jaehyun gave up trying. “i don’t think i can. something’s probably caught in the gap between the wall and the furniture.” he tried to look over his shoulder to see if he was right.

“i thought prodigies don’t give up.” your voice sounded challenging to him.

“within the spectrum of our skill, we don’t. but outside our gift, we have the choice to.” jaehyun flicked your forehead again. “we get tired too.”

there was less force against your torso, he was trying to push the furniture again and you bubbled out a giggle. “wow you aren’t as cool as i thought you were.”

jaehyun wanted to hit you as you were being too playful at the wrong time. but as he brought his hand up, you closed your eyes shut to brace for the sharp impact. he sighed and his stomach growled in the most embarrassing way yet. “ugh, it’s because i haven’t eaten enough. i don’t have any strength left.” his stomach then growled louder.

maybe it was due to your bodies against each other’s and the heat starting to roam around the room. jaehyun clicked his tongue at the continuous mimicking of yours. “c’mon y/n i can’t be the only one doing the work here. help me push this heavy thing behind me.”

“uh no? do you think i could even help? don’t make me uncomfortable than i’m already am.” you moaned at the pain starting to grow along your spine. arching your back to avoid the discomfort from the shelves wasn’t really a good idea.

“ah you’re uncomfortable?” he implored with a smirk, his voice quite menacing as he leaned in to squeeze you between the cabinet behind you and himself.

for the whole time jaehyun knew that you didn’t mean whatever you said. he loved how you surprise him everyday and tonight he found you quite cheeky, and adorable too. by quite, it meant that you were like a child wanting to go home. a huff from him felt like the gust of wind. “‘i don’t have any strength left’.” you copied his words. seeing his lips pout, it was alright to give in. “will you treat me food if i help?” you returned the question because you treated him.

“you’re lucky you’re cute.” he suddenly said, with a soft chuckle, you knew he was smiling. it had gotten you speechless that it was hard to tell whether he said knowingly or not. “we can buy what the other wants after we get out of here, okay?” his attempt to get the wood off him yet again failed.

you clapped your hands quite hyperactively and squealed as if he asked you out on a date. “oh yay! okay. i wouldn’t want to be rained on for another hour anyway.” you teased, in which he exhaled heavily from his nostrils.

“i’m not that sweaty.” he grumbled, almost vibrating with the exertion of his energy.

“just perspiring.” you added.

he hit your head with his, for sure you’ll have a prominent bruise and that would make you a victim for hyejin for the next few days. or tonight, if she would get you both out. “that’s the same meaning.”

it took less than two minutes to take the weight off his back. jaehyun saw everything in slow motion— he was falling backwards and you, frontwards. “whoa!” for a moment you thought you hit yourself on a wall. that was for a brief second before the impact was replaced by a warm hug.

you checked if he was okay, he became your safe fall and again he saved you when you didn’t ask for it. “i didn’t expect.. i’m sorry.” you pressed your lips realising you were in between his legs.

he hissed at the pain and sat tiredly on the floor, using all of the fabrics of his clothes to wipe the sweat. “it’s okay.” he patted your back.

“right.. this is awkward. i better get off..” you chuckled and dusted your clothes awkwardly but what he said next really caught you off guard.

“do you want to do it?” he queried, taking you back as your head shot up and hit his chin with your forehead.

you blinked several times. “d-do what?” is this another question i won’t be able to answer?

there was a shaky grip on your waist, your heart hammered and you were afraid that he would hear it. “y’know what i’m talking about.” he put the hair strands away so he would be able to see your face under the lines of slim light.

“i don’t?” you choked on your own saliva. what was he talking about?

jaehyun’s breath made you freeze on the spot, along sudden silence. he giggled softly. “such a waste, you even have a perfect body.”

then the conversation from the two girls at the cafeteria entered your mind right when you thought deep. hold on, the rumours can’t be true..

he stood up shortly, cornering you by the door and the lights revealed his eyes, smiling shyly. “you have perfect proportions.” as of now, you were a little nervous. you couldn’t process what you were hearing from your crush’s lips and looked away where you could see hyejin’s figure closing the studio’s door.

finally hyejin’s here. i have to tell him. “uh jaehyu-”

“can you be my model?” he held your hands.

oh shoot it is true?

“i need someone to pose for my next art portrait and you’re the only one i can ask.”

‘well aren’t you quite the deep thinker~’ you could imagine hyejin’s voice telling you off at the back of your mind. you shook your head and shut your eyes for her imaginary presence to go away, making you miss seeing jaehyun’s expression turn to a small pout.

suddenly you felt like your soul left your body. what were you thinking y/n?! erase the thought! cleanse your mind from what you heard from the girls!

now you stopped being an embarrassment, you looked at him. however, before you could answer, the door swung open, causing you both to fall over and adjust to the lights above you. hyejin looked down at the two of you, her bubblegum popping with brows raised. “girl, i texted you back and said i’m opening the door. didn’t you see- oh, did i come at the wrong time?”

jaehyun quickly got on his toes, ears turning red while you covered your face in embarrassment. “this is a misunderstanding hyejin!” he stuttered and fixed his collar. you dug for your phone to check the message, but it died long before.

she blew another bubble and popped. “mhm, i can see that.” she winked at the both of you and turned to leave.

“hyejin!” you whined and clung on her legs.

“i’m leaving!” she singsonged and shook her ankles like you were a bug. “i’m giving you more alone time with your muse!”

“oh my g- you!” you chased her down. “quiet!”

she laughed cheekily and managed to exit the studio, sticking out her tongue and pointed behind you. ‘walk home with him!’ hyejin mouthed, and you couldn’t be more annoyed with her because that was indeed true. what was once a wishful thinking became reality. she knew you more than you did yourself.

as you sighed heavily, it got you hitching a breath that jaehyun might’ve heard and saw the whole thing. you turned around and he was packing his stuff, yours included. the artworks were left untouched since you both would be back here tomorrow. he gave your bag and you chose to not talk because you didn’t have the audacity to do. “so, uh. what were you saying earlier?” you hoped he would forget what he just saw.

“oh y-yeah. lemme just-” he took a deep breath and looked into your eyes. “..rephrase it- wait i’m your muse?”

of course he wouldn’t forget, it just happened. damn you, hyejin! you slouched on a nearby chair and wore your hood. “i was hoping you wouldn’t find out so soon.”

“i’m flattered. thanks.” his dimples hollowed. “i was asking if you could be my reference for my next art piece..” he trailed off recalling that you declined. “..though you shook your head quickly than i thought.”

“huh i did?” your voice affirming. “oh gosh i think i did.. i’m sorry i was hearing hyejin in my head when you said that.”

jaehyun’s eyes widened when all he heard was pure honesty from you. “so will you do it for me?”

“as long as i wear clothes while at it.” you consented with your arms crossed and began to feel heat spread your whole body at the thought of the rumour.

walking along the hallway, only the sounds of shoes grazing the carpet echoed the area. you didn’t know what else to say. he brought you to the nearest convenient store where the campus’ one was closed at the hour. the food you bought turned cold and you couldn’t afford to get sick because of it.

he pulled the chair for you to sit on. “you heard them as well.” he placed his bag down. he was aware of the rumours found around and was shocked to know you knew them too. “they’re not true.”

you propped your chin as he went back to the topic. “i know.” you agreed to his words. “they don’t describe you at all.”

jaehyun sat comfortably, a smirk appearing. “me being your muse fits the description-”

this guy.. “please don’t bring that up.” you pleaded with hands clasped.

“i’m teasing.” he chuckled. “i don’t mind if you refuse want to be my model.” he said. “but i assure i’m not like other artists who paints their naked model. i have a better plan for you.”

he was trying to convince you into his world and you were slowly getting into it. “that’s like saying you really want me to.” you took your wallet and he followed suit.

“what’s wrong with wanting to paint my new muse?” he slid his chair closer to the table; closer so he could see your reactions to his honesty.

when he said that, you never turned away so fast in your life. your chest never thumped so loudly and your eyes fluttered while he continued to press onto his question. 

an assuring smile showed on your lips and he mirrored it, already knowing your response. “nope, nothing wrong at all.” you shyly accepted his request.

jaehyun then stood to get the orders, his fingers warning you that the late dinner would be on him. your heart experienced blossoms and giddiness you hoped it’d stay forever. who knows? maybe being each other’s muse could turn into something more after tonight.  

[messrprcngs]

* MIXED SIGNALS .

SUMMARY : y/n is a kind-hearted, occasionally rude slytherin who’s friends with charlie weasley, a gryffindor in her year. y/n has obvious feelings for him, and their mutual friends are constantly telling her that they think charlie is into her as well. so y/n does the one thing she swore to herself she’d never do : tell charlie about her feelings for him. PAIRING : charlie weasley x female!reader WARNINGS : badly written flangst. badly written in general. reader punches charlie in the face, and charlie’s a bitch. WORD COUNT : 4945 words. this is by FAR the longest thing i’ve ever written. i’m so sorry A/N : hey guys, i’m back with another fic ! this one’s to ( hopefully ) cheer my best friend lizzie up because she has a huge crush on this boy who she thinks doesn’t like her back. unfortunately, she refuses to tell her that i keep calling him a bitch. this is somewhat based on her situation, and i used she/her pronouns to hopefully make it a bit more personal to her. love you lizzie !! f/n = friend’s name ( your slytherin friend ) g/f/n = gryffindor friend’s name

when she first met charlie weasley, y/n l/n had made herself a promise: she was not going to develop a crush on him, no matter how attractive she found him or how kind his eyes looked.

needless to say, y/n broke that promise. almost immediately, actually.

within weeks of being paired up with him in potions for something snape had nicknamed “forced integration,” y/n was beginning to look forward to seeing him during classes, much to the chagrin of her fellow best slytherin friend f/n.

“the whole dorm’ll be after you if they find out you’ve got the hots for a weasley,” f/n had told her on the walk to potions after catching her staring at him in transfiguration one afternoon.

y/n had choked on her spit and turned to face f/n so quickly that she got whiplash. “what in merlin’s beard are you on about? i don’t - ! i could never - for charlie weasley?”

f/n had simply raised one neatly plucked eyebrow and said, “i didn’t say i was referring to charles,” to which y/n had turned away from them and grumbled to herself, a burning heat covering her face.

since then, f/n had warmed up to the idea of y/n having a crush on charlie, and found great pleasure in teasing her about it, as they were doing right now.

“y/n and freckles, sitting in a tree. k - i - s - s -”

“oh, sod off! that’s so childish. what are you, nine?” y/n complained, pushing her lunch around on her plate. she was very steadily beginning to lose her appetite.

“please,” her gryffindor friend g/f/n piped up from next to f/n, “we all know that f/n’s a five year old at heart.”

y/n and f/n were sitting with g/f/n and their other close friend nymphadora tonks - or just tonks, as she preferred - at the hufflepuff table, as it was the only one that would allow all four of them to dine together in relative peace.

f/n looked playfully livid at g/f/n’s comment. “shut up! just because you don’t know how to have any fun doesn’t mean -”

“i’ll have you know, i’m plenty of fun!” g/f/n scoffed, seeming genuinely insulted.

“now, now, you two. i believe that you’re forgetting the point of this conversation: teasing our dear y/n about her oh-so-obvious love for charles weasley,” tonks said, successfully interrupting the other two’s bickering.

wicked smirks spread across g/f/n’s and f/n’s faces, and y/n rolled her eyes, exasperated.

“it’s not love, dora! please, it’s hardly even a crush.”

tonks chose to ignore the other girl’s use of part of her first name and instead said: “yeah, right. we all know that’s a lie, love.”

g/f/n nodded very seriously. “i hate to break it to you, y/n, but you’ve got a huge crush on the lad.”

“though we’ve no idea why,” f/n added.

y/n wrinkled her nose at the pair. “alright, so maybe i like him, just a little bit -”

“more than just a little bit.”

“- but” y/n sent tonks a pointed glare “it’s not love. and besides, even if i did like him as much as you lot think i do, he doesn’t see me like that. we’re just friends.”

“just friends my arse,” g/f/n snorted.

“it’s incredibly obvious he likes you too, y/n,” f/n said.

y/n wasn’t convinced, and it must’ve shown on her face, because both of them rolled their eyes.

“we’re being serious, you know!” g/f/n cried as she bit into a roll. covering her mouth to finish her thought, she mumbled, “you can just tell with the way he is with you during potions. he’s not like that with the rest of us.”

all five of them were in n.e.w.t.s level potions, for a number of reasons. for y/n and g/f/n, it was because they liked the class, though they both found snape . . . a bit sketchy, to say the least; for tonks and charlie, they took the class because their dream careers required it; and f/n took the class because that was what was expected of them, seeing as they came from a whole family of slytherins.

because they all took the class, they’d become closer friends and often walked to and from the dungeon classroom with each other, which was a plus for y/n - it meant she spent more time with charlie. unfortunately, it also meant that her other friends had more time to witness them together and more fuel for their insane theory that charlie liked her, thereby getting the hopes up of the teensy bit of herself which wholeheartedly believed he did like her.

“right . . .” y/n said slowly, setting her fork down and taking a sip of her water instead. “anyway, how do you all think you did on the -”

“ow!” she cried as tonks elbowed her in the ribs, and her water spilled all over her robes and her lunch plate. “what in godric’s name was that for?!”

“charlie’s looking at you from the gryffindor table, love,” tonks replied, smirking.

y/n let her jaw drop open in horror. “you elbowed in the ribs for that?”

tonks raised her eyebrows, glancing pointedly between y/n the gryffindor table in front of them. “he’s still looking at you.”

rolling her eyes, y/n looked in the direction of the gryffindor table, and sure enough, she locked eyes with charlie weasley. she gave him a small smile, and he grinned and sent her a wave.

g/f/n, who had turned to see if tonks was right, turned back around to face y/n. she gave a single, definite nod. “he definitely likes you, y/n.”

y/n and tonks had transfiguration together after lunch. unlike n.e.w.t.s. level potions, there were a number of students in mcgonagall's n.e.w.t.s. level transfiguration class, because unlike snape, mcgonagall's n.e.w.t.s. exam was reasonable.

because of the large number of students taking the course, the need arose for them to be separated by house to manage class sizes: a class right after breakfast with most of the gryffindors, a class halfway before lunch with the ravenclaws and the small number of left over gryffindors, and a class after lunch for the slytherins and hufflepuffs.

it was on the walk to transfiguration, once they’d left their other two friends behind, that tonks began her favorite discussion to have with y/n.

“really, y/n/n,” she said, bumping her elbow into the other girl’s arm. “you’ve got a great chance with weasley; we can all tell he likes you. you should just shoot your shot already.”

tonks had picked up the muggle phrase awhile ago, and y/n didn’t like it one bit.

“i’ve already told you!” y/n groaned. “he doesn’t like me like that. will you please drop it, tonks?”

tonks clicked her tongue. “sure, i’ll drop it.” y/n breathed a sigh of relief. “if you really don’t want to believe that your crush has feelings for you, too.”

y/n turned to her looking very cross. “name one reason why i should believe you when you say he likes me.”

tonks was silent as the pair began to climb one of hogwarts’ moving staircase. she was quiet so long, in fact, that y/n thought that she’d made her point, and couldn’t help feeling a tad disappointed; the fight to get her to confess couldn’t be over that quickly, could it ?

apparently not, because just as y/n had the thought, tonks said, “he’s more of a bitch when he’s with you.”

“excuse me?”

“i mean it in a good way. he annoys you more, on purpose. he’s still nice, obviously - if he weren’t nice you wouldn’t like him - but you know when he takes your purple quill without asking first because he knows you hate it when people tough your quills?”

y/n nodded.

“well, he does it because he wants to get a reaction out of you. probably thinks you’re cute when you’re mad, or something cliche like that.”

“is that all?” y/n questioned, clearly unconvinced. tonks shook her head as they turned the corner a few doors down from transfiguration.

“when he’s not annoying you on purpose, he’s listening to you talk as if he actually cares about what you have to say, which he clearly does. he looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky, too, but thinking too long about that part makes me a bit nauseous.”

y/n wrinkled her nose. “tonks, how do know so much about boys if you’re only into girls?”

tonks’ grin as they got to the transfiguration door was devilish. “because i’ve had to save far too many witches from boys who don’t really like them, and i’ve come to have a second sense for these things.”

the pair was silent as they entered the class. they were silent as they took their seats in the middle of the room, and they were silent yet as they pulled their supplies from their book bags. and then: “do you . . . do you really think that i should tell him, tonks?”

she gave y/n a sweet, genuine smile, her eyes soft. “of course, love. there’s no way he’ll say no to you.”

over the course of the next couple of days, y/n thought long and hard about what tonks had said. did she really think that charlie liked her as more than a friend? maybe. she wasn’t sure if she actually thought that she did or if her hope that he did was just so strong that she’d convinced herself.

either way, she figured that if all three of her closest friends could agree on something, it must’ve been at least partly true.

when saturday came, y/n had made up her mind: she was going to tell charlie how she felt about him.

she found him in the library after she’d finished breakfast. it was his self-allotted study time, and he was there every saturday after breakfast without fail. y/n felt a bit bad knowing she’d be interrupting his studying with her confession, but she hoped that what would happen after she confessed would make her interruption worth it.

he was sitting at a table hidden behind a number of bookshelves, and y/n took a moment to admire him.

he was absolutely gorgeous, no matter what her friends said. his face and neck were covered with freckles, with the highest spattering concentration going across his sharp nose and the tops of his cheeks. they were on the backs of his hands, too, and y/n had noticed a few times when charlie rolled up his sleeves during potions that he had freckles dancing up his arms as well.

his hair was fluffy and unkempt, and a little longer than y/n figured his parents liked. but y/n adored his hair, and wanted desperately to run her fingers through it.

which you’ll get to do, she reminded herself, if you stop being a coward and go over there and tell him.

so she walked closer to his table, and in the blink of an eye she was standing across from him saying, “hey, charlie! can i sit here?”

charlie looked up at her and smiled a bright, kind smile that took her breath away. he was absolutely adorable, and y/n absolutely hated it.

“sure thing, y/n,” he said, watching her as she pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. he looked back up to her face, meeting her eyes again, and his smile grew wider.

“so, y/n, what’re you up to on this fine morning?”

y/n looked away, fiddling with her fingers on the table. “oh, you know. nothing . . . much. had a couple muffins for breakfast.”

charlie laughed. “is that all? that’s not a very balanced diet, y/n/n.”

“oh, shut up!” she replied, her face heating up a bit. “you hardly eat anything for breakfast other than waffles; why should i listen to you?”

“at least i eat them with blueberries,” charlie said with a shrug, looking back down to his parchment to scribble something down.

“and i eat my muffins with jam, like a normal person.”

“i’m offended to know that you think i’m not normal just because i prefer butter to jam,” charlie said, but the still-present smile on his face told y/n that he wasn’t, in fact, all that offended.

“but why’d you really stop by to visit me, y/n? i find it hard to believe that you’d come into the library this early in the morning just to discuss eating habits with me.”

y/n bit her lip, and began to clean her nails to give her nervous hands something to do. “well . . .” she began, making eye contact with him before quickly looking away again. “i wanted to tell . . . i mean, i wanted to let you know that, um -”

“come on, y/n, out with it! you can tell me whatever it is, i promise,” charlie encouraged. y/n looked back up at him, and found that his bright grin had been replaced by a soft smile, warm and inviting, and y/n found herself blurting it out all at once.

“i like you, charlie! really like you! in a more than friends kind of way!”

charlie’s smile drooped into a puzzled frown, and y/n felt an embarrassed heat crawl its way up her arms.

“oh? oh . . . i’m sorry, y/n . . .” charlie said, looking away from her, and she felt her breath catch in her throat. sorry was never good.

“it’s just i - i don’t like you like that, love. you’re a wonderful girl - a wonderful friend, really - and i’m flattered, i am, but . . . you’re really . . . just a friend.”

there’s no way he’ll say no to me my arse. apparently, charlie weasley could say no to her quite easily.

y/n swore she felt her heart stop beating, and it dropped down into her stomach like a stone.

despite this, she smiled at him and said, “oh, that’s alright. i understand, charlotte.”

charlie scrunched up his nose at the nickname. “you’re really alright?” he asked, voice dripping with sincere concern, and despite the fact that her heart was solid as a stone in the pit of her stomach, y/n felt it melt a little.

“‘course i am,” she told him. “i just wanted you to know; i wasn’t looking for my feelings to be reciprocated” - a lie, but charlie didn’t need to know that - “so you’re all good, charlie.”

he looked unconvinced, but didn’t say anything about being so. instead, he said, “i am really sorry, y/n.”

“stop apologizing when you have nothing to apologize for, you git,” y/n teased as she stood up from the chair she’d been sitting in and pushed it in. “now, that was lovely, really it was, but i have to be going now. i promised g/f/n i’d go with her to talk to snape about our last essay.”

that was also a lie: g/f/n wasn’t the type of student to need to talk to professors about her assignments, and even if she was, there was no way in hell that she’d’ve gone to talk to snape, even if it was with y/n.

charlie smiled at her again and waved goodbye. “see you in potions on monday!”

y/n, who had just begun to walk away, turned back and called, “see you in potions, charlotte!” before making her way to the great doors of the library, fighting back tears all the way.

after a day and a half of moping and eating ice cream for dinner, y/n had decided that she was going to make being only friends with charlie work, for both their sakes. she enjoyed his company too much to cut ties with him - too much, even, to ignore him for only a few days - and so going back to only seeing him as a friend was the best option for making sure he wasn’t uncomfortable and she didn’t have a broken heart.

seeing charlie as only a friend proved to be more difficult than she’d anticipated, though. she hadn’t realized she’d liked him as much as it seemed she did, so when she walked into potions the monday after being friend-zoned, telling herself he was strictly a friend now, and found him already turned around in his seat waiting for someone - waiting for her, it seemed, if his grin upon meeting her eye was anything to go by - y/n had the breath knocked out of her.

and was it just her, or had charlie been acting overly-interested lately? in the following weeks, y/n noticed that charlie would do . . . little things, little things that he hadn’t done before she told him she liked him.

he often found excuses to touch her during potions now. he would spread his legs a little wider than usual and rest his knee against her thigh, or lean a little farther to the left, a little closer to her, so that their elbows - sometimes even their whole forearms - were touching.

he’d stopped stealing her quills so often, and had begun to always offer to get up to get ingredients for the potions they made in class. he snuck chocolate frogs into snape’s classroom for her on occasion, too. his excuse was always that he’d seen them hiding in his trunk and decided to bring one in for her on impulse since he knew she got hungry in class, but he’d done it too often now for it to be a coincidence.

it was all very confusing, and y/n didn’t like it one bit. when it had first started happening, her friends had left it alone, not teasing her about how charlie was acting because y/n had told them about her train-wreck of a confession.

they’d all assumed that charlie was only being extra nice to instill the idea that him and y/n were just friends, even if it did seem suspiciously like things someone would do for someone they had feelings for; charlie was a bit daft sometimes, and the group had no doubt that this was one of the occasions where the boy just didn’t know what he was doing.

but they could only hold back on their teasing for so long, and it started up again when charlie decided to sit with them at the hufflepuff table one day.

“he sat with us because he likes you,” g/f/n had said matter-of-factly, which caused y/n to roll her eyes.

“he told me he doesn’t,” she’d sighed, dragging the duh in ‘doesn’t’ out for emphasis.

g/f/n had looked by no means convinced.

that day had turned into two, which turned into three, which turned into five and then ten, and sooner than they knew it their meal-time group of four was expanded to a meal-time group of five.

charlie always squeezed in next to g/f/n, no matter which side of the table she sat at, which made y/n a little jealous, though she constantly reminded herself she had no right to be. charlie didn’t like her - he’d said so himself, to her face. so what if he’d been acting like maybe he liked her? he didn’t.

y/n groaned, taking the open seat on the other side of g/f/n at the hufflepuff table. “remind me again why it’s not friday yet?”

“because it’s only wednesday,” g/f/n replied, munching happily on her morning muffin.

y/n groaned again, falling against g/f/n and burying her face in her shoulder. “i don’t want to go to charms this early in the morning.”

“you go to charms this early in the morning every day, loser” f/n said, and tonks snickered.

y/n didn’t even lift her head up. “don’t care; i stand by what i said.”

“how’d you sleep, y/n?” charlie’s question was so strange that y/n just had to sit up straight, and peered around g/f/n to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“i slept fine, charlie,” she told him, and took a bite of an apple before continuing. “how . . . did you sleep?”

charlie shrugged. “slept fine. but uhm . . .” he looked down at the table. “there’s a hogsmeade trip saturday, and i was wondering if . . .”

“we’d love to go with you, charlie!” g/f/n cried. “unfortunately, f/n and i are busy, so you and y/n and tonks’ll have to go alone.”

charlie looked startled by g/f/n reply, but grinned at her anyway. “wonderful. just what i wanted to know. it’s a shame you two can’t be joining us, though.”

“i don’t know if i can go, either,” tonks piped up. “i’ve got . . . er, certain matters to deal with here at school.” when you looked up at her in mild alarm, she merely shot you a wink and went back to her oatmeal.

“what she means,” f/n said with a roll of their eyes, “is that she’s got plans to sleep with that ravenclaw girl she’s been eyeing for the past three weeks.”

tonks shrugged, clearly unashamed, and you wrinkled your nose.

“and with that lovely mental image,” you began, swinging your leg over the bench and picking your book bag up from next to you, “i bid you all goodbye.” you picked up a muffin from the plate in the middle of the five of you for the walk to flitwick’s class. on second thought . . . you thought, and reached over to grab two more.

“going to flitwick’s so soon, are we, love?” tonks asked, setting her fork down and resting her chin in her palm.

y/n rolled her eyes, but she didn’t get the chance to respond, as charlie turned around towards her and said, “i’ll come with you!” before shoveling a last bit of egg into his mouth and standing, his book bag already over his shoulder.

y/n blinked. the two of them didn’t have charms together - the slytherins had it with the ravenclaws - so she was confused as to why he wanted to leave with her when she was going in the opposite direction (he had care of magical creatures first thing in the morning, and y/n knew that for a fact).

but instead of asking about it, she simply shrugged, said “alright,” and started walking away from the hufflepuff table, not bothering to wait for charlie.

of course, waiting wasn’t an issue, seeing as he had a good few inches on her, and long legs to boot. within seconds, charlie was matching her stride for stride and then some.

they walked to the doors of the great hall in silence, and y/n couldn’t help but wonder if it was as awkward as she felt it was.

when they exited, she kept walking straight, towards the large staircase in the entrance hall. she’d barely taken two steps, though, when a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her to the right. y/n gave a small yelped, startled, and landed against one of the great hall’s open doors with a soft thump.

she found charlie looking down at her, leaning against the door as well. his hand still held her wrist, and his other hand came up to hold her forearm lightly. he was standing too close for comfort - read: to close for just friends - and y/n’s face flushed.

“charlie?” she said his name like a question, though she wasn’t sure what she was asking.

charlie gave her a smile, and it was very unlike his usual smiles: whereas his usual smiles were broad and beaming, this one was small and soft, and it was making y/n very confused.

“you know, i wasn’t going to ask the whole group if they wanted to go to hogsmeade on saturday,” he said, voice as soft as his smile. y/n felt her heart drop into her stomach, very much like it did weeks ago when he’d told her she was just a friend.

“you weren’t?”

he shook his head, and when it stilled y/n noticed that he was glancing between her eyes and her lips. she sucked her lips into her mouth, slightly panicked and very nervous. they were just friends! so why did it look to y/n like charlie really wanted to kiss her?

he didn’t say anything else, so instead she asked, “who . . . who were you going to ask?”

charlie shuffled a bit closer to her. “you,” he said, and he was staring into her eyes so intently that y/n felt the panic bubbling up from her gut. it bubbled up into her throat like bile, and suddenly y/n was so overwhelmed that she did the first thing she could think of.

she pulled her arm up - quickly - and punched charlie weasley straight in the nose.

charlie cried out, his hands flying up to cover his nose as he jerked back. “what the bloody hell was that for?!”

“i’m sorry, i panicked!” she said, eyes wide with horror. she really hadn’t meant to punch him; it was simply impulse.

good luck telling that to mcgonagall.

“what in godric’s name made you so panicked that you punched me?!”

“you were being a bitch!” both of them were yelling, and y/n was surprised that no one had come out of the great hall to see what all the yelling was about.

“i was being a bitch?” he asked, incredulous. “how?”

“you - you were sending a bunch of mixed signals and -”

“so you punched me?!”

“yes!”

charlie pulled his hand away from his nose and inspected it. his nose wasn’t bleeding - which didn’t surprise y/n in the slightest, because the punch had been horrible - but it was an angry shade of red, more violent and unflattering even than his hair.

when he was satisfied, he looked back at y/n. “what mixed signals was i sending?”

he didn’t sound angry, which relieved y/n beyond belief. “you - you wanted to . . . go with me to hogsmeade,” she said, sounding unsure.

charlie cocked his head, like a curious puppy. “and so you punched me in the face?”

y/n felt her face burning again. godric, why was she so prone to doing that around this boy?

“alone,” she said defensively, folding her arms over her chest and letting herself slouch a bit. “you wanted to go with me to hogsmeade alone.”

charlie opened his mouth, but y/n cut him off before he could say anything. “and the chocolate frogs! and all the touching! it’s very confusing, because you told me that i was just a friend, and i wanted to respect that and then the sitting with us at meals! you never used to sit with us before! and so then i think that maybe - but you only sit next to g/f/n, and then i think that you like her, but you only started sitting with us after i told you how i felt!”

charlie looked away from y/n, and his hand came up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. “well . . .” he started. he looked back up at her, and she raised an eyebrow expectantly. he sighed.

“after you told me you liked me, i got to thinking and . . . i realized that i . . . liked you too. and i know how it sounds!” charlie added hurriedly, seeing the doubt in y/n’s eyes. “and i thought that i only started to like you like that because you’d told me that you liked me like that, and i tried to forget about it and stick to being just friends with you, but then we were sitting in potions one day and you were doodling on your arm with a pen and you looked so concentrated and - and i don’t know, but i realized that it wasn’t just a suggestion thing, but that i - that i - that i really like you.”

y/n was a bit startled by charlie’s outburst, seeing as he didn’t talk much about his feelings, nor did he stutter; he just wasn’t the type.

charlie fiddled with the sleeves of his robes after finishing his rant - a clear sign that he was nervous, and his distress only increased as you remained silent. “well?”

"did you think that our hogsmeade trip was going to be like a date?”

charlie looked taken aback. “i mean . . . i suppose so?”

“that’s a prick move you know. telling me we’re just friends and then deciding you like me and asking me out on a date.”

“i’m beginning to realize that.”

you nodded, satisfied with his answer. “good.”

“do you . . . do you still like me, too?”

y/n rolled her eyes, but said, “of course i still like you, you imbecile.”

“and . . . and do you still want to go to hogsmeade with me?” he looked so hopeful and anxious all at once that y/n just had to let her face soften.

“of course.” charlie perked up immediately.

“but,” she continued, “i want you to know that nothing may come out if it at first. you told me you only saw me as a friend, and then suddenly you’re telling me you like me; i’m going to need some time to process.”

he gave her a lopsided grin. “i’m okay with that.”

she smiled at him softly. “good. now, let’s get you to the hospital wing, yeah?”

charlie nodded, still smiling at her, and y/n stepped forward, looped her arm through his, and started on the way to the hospital wing, pulling him along with her.

[pazvizslaplasmathrower]

Bound Together - A Paz Vizsla x Reader Oneshot

A/N: I’m a mess and i needed comfort so I made my own. Its a whole mess and I didn’t really edit it, I’m sorry! If anyone has like fluff they wanna send my way with comfort please do

Summary: Paz dwells on the memory of a dangerous encounter, questioning if he really wants you along with him.

Word Count: 1732

Read here or on AO3

Leaning against the side of your stolen Y-Wing, you contemplated falling asleep right there. You were exhausted enough but you were waiting on someone to get back to you. He was of course, your employer, but he didn’t act like it much to your surprise.

It had been quite the shock when that enormous Mandalorian had come to you, asking for a translator. To your knowledge, legendary Mandalorian’s weren’t known to go asking for help, especially that of complete strangers.

“I need someone who can translate ancient Jedi texts.” Came the rather flat voice through the vocoder.

“And why would you be doing that?” You asked, taking a quick sip of your drink.

“…I could be your potential employer and you’re questioning me?” He spat his last few words.

“You could be and that’s why I’m questioning you.” Setting your glass down, you sighed. “I’ve gotta make sure you’re not dealing with anything…Imperial related.”

The Mandalorian huffed, his posture easing immensely. “You’d be helping me get my quarry. I’ve been…employed by someone particularly interested in Jedi artifacts. Non-Imperial.”

“Alright. How much do I get? A fifth?” You asked.

He tilted his head to the side, you could almost imagine his eyes scrutinizing you. “Generous, but if you do well enough, perhaps.”

That had been over a few month ago. The job had gone over well enough and the Mandalorian had paid you even more than you had initially asked. And much to your secret delight, he had even asked you to accompany him in his travels, stating it was purely for the transportation and protection. After all, you were quite skilled when it came to flying, perhaps in another life you could have been a regular ace.

But no. For now you were traveling alongside a stoic Mandalorian who had just recently gone so far as to gift you with his name. Paz. It felt very strange in your mouth as it flitted across your tongue and past your lips. Though, as strong as it was, a sweet quality was also present. You were quietly practicing saying it, when you heard boots slog their way into the hangar where you were waiting.

“Paz?” You asked, hopping to your feet. “Did you find a place where we can stay the night?”

When the man came fully into view, you could see there was something off. His shoulders were just too slumped, head handing just a bit too low.

“Paz?”

His attention snapped suddenly to you, confused for a second. “O-Oh…Yes.”

He was apprehensive, careful and distant. After locking up your ship, he kept several strides ahead of you, until reaching the run down lodging.

It had been this way for the past week. You would try to engage with the man cheerily only to have him give the occasional grunt in response as opposed to the one sentence replies you had worked so hard to hear. If he wasn’t responding to something more amicable, then perhaps it was time to turn the tables.

“Hey.” You growled once the door to the room was closed. Paz simply lumbered over to the bed taking a seat. “HEY!”

He nodded in reply, continuing to take out one of his smaller blasters and started to clean it, pausing when you just stared in stunned silence.

Taking in a few deep breaths, you took tentative steps until you were standing squarely in front of him.

“Paz…” While hollow, you voice held a certain tenacity. “Paz, look at me.”

The Mandalorian refused to. He kept scrubbing the barrel of his blaster keeping his head down, not meeting your gaze. You wanted to scream, to seize his shoulders in your hands and shake the man until he said something. Anything. Instead, you started to shake, fists balled, nails digging into the leather of your gloves.

“Paz.”

He shook his head.

“PAZ!”

Unable to live with his stubborn silence, you grabbed the blaster from his surprised grip and cast it across the room.

“Hey! Kark what the hell is wrong with you!?”

Finally a response.

“Look at me!” You begged, trying to keep him from grabbing back his weapon. The attempt was futile and Paz easily pushed you aside. “You kriffing metalhead! What do I have to do to get you to look at me? To talk to me? What hell do I have to do? What did I do?”

He paused, almost moving to clean his weapon yet again. “You didn’t do anything.”

“I…” Looking about the room, you half expected to find the right thing to say. “Then talk to me! I-I know you don’t say a whole lot but…but…”

Taking another deep breath you could feel the heat of tears rolling down the curve of your cheeks, dripping off your chin. Embarrassment made your face searing hot, This Mandalorian had seen you in some of your strongest moments and now at one of your weakest. For the past few weeks you had been planning on how to approach such an indomitable man with your blossoming feelings. Surely he must feel similarly, after all you could feel it in the way he used to call your name, in the way he once placed his large hands over your own when instructing you on how to properly operate his heavy weaponry. The weight of his adoration was palpable, you could sense it clearly within him, and so you painstakingly strung together the most endearing way you could  think of to confess to Paz your desire to remain by his side. But now all that was out the window, the words, the loving phrases lost in the wake of your sorrow.

“I thought…I guess I was a kriffing fool to even think you could like someone like me. So stupid! I’m just another idiot with their head in the clouds expecting…expecting the impossible!”

Furious with yourself rather than the Mandalorian, you turned on the heel of your boot, starting to march over to the door. As your hand went for the button, a much larger one wrapped around your wrist , keeping you in place.

“Paz.” You clenched your jaw, pressing your teeth hard against one another. “Don’t. Don’t kriffing pity me. Just let me go, okay?”

When his grip failed to loosen, you yanked your arm away but to no avail, resorting to thrashing about, attempting to break free. Instead you hit your side heavily against the man’s Beskar. Immediately, you let out a sharp cry feeling a searing pain spread from the week old wound on your side, crumpling to the floor, your hands gripped the wound feeling the dampness of new blood seeping past the old stitches.

“Kark…” Paz breathed softly. He moved forward only to see you back up cautiously. He froze. Unable to look away from the growing dark stain on your tunic.

“I…I should of stitched them better.” You huffed, stumbling to your feet.

For a few moments the two of you stood in silence, simply staring at one another in heated confusion.

“I…I was going to ask you to leave.” Paz started.

“Of course you were….” Sniffling, you hung your head in shame. “I’m sorry-”

“I wasn’t finished.” Was that annoyance in his voice? “Gods…As I was saying…I-I was going to ask you to leave. Not because of…You…I like being around you.”

You cocked an eyebrow.

“But, after last week…”

“Last week? Is that what this is all about?!” Taking a bloody hand off your rib cage, you ran both hands through your hair in disbelief. “Here I was thinking that you hated me and it was about that Krait Dragon?”

Slowly, the gigantic man nodded. It had been a a brief encounter when you and Paz had last been on Tatooine on a job, leading the both of you right in the claws of a giant kriffing Krait dragon. Though you insisted in taking the creature on, Paz protested against the idea. At first he was powerless against your will, but as soon as the creature managed to land a hit on you, the Mandalorian made the call and pulled you out as fast as possible.

“I should never have asked you to travel along side me…It’s only gotten you battered and injured…It’s my fault…”

Despite the throbbing agony coursing through your being, you moved forward, taking his helmet gently in your hands, gingerly lifting it so he could meet your watery eyes.

“Gods, you really are a metalhead. You were the one that has saved my ass every time I get in too deep. You’re the one that makes waking up each morning wonderful because I get to wake up knowing you’re not far. And then you stopped talking, stopped looking at me and I couldn’t bear it! I thought you hated me!”

“No!” Paz cried, his sudden change in pitch alarming you. “I wouldn’t-I could never hate you. I just can’t bear seeing you get hurt.”

Smiling weakly, you felt your heart beat faster. “There’s some things in this universe that can’t be helped, Paz. But…I…I know I’ll be okay if I have you. But only if you will have me.”

Paz’s hands which had previously been at his sides moved delicately, coming to rest on your hips. “I…I would love n-nothing more.”

A mix of relief, sheer joy and bliss made wracked your body, spurring forth a volley of tears and laughter. Unable to contain yourself, you threw your arms around Paz’s neck pulling him as close as possible without hurting yourself too much.

“Beloved, though I could spend eternity in your arms, you need medical attention.” He said softly.

“Yeah, good thing I have you to help me.”

Pursing your lips, you decided to take yet another daring step. You knew a fair bit of Mandalorian culture, and leaning forward you pressed your forehead to his helmet.

“I swear I would rather watch the world crumble than see you hurt…Oh, cyare…What is a man to do with you?”

And with such tenderness , Paz tended to your wound. You were on the precipice of melting at the feeling of his skin against yours.

In life you were bound to suffer but with Paz forever at your side, you could bear anything.

[obsidianfr3sk]

The Origins (Chapter 5)

Summary: Before the Renegades put an end to the Age of Anarchy, they were six kids trying to survive day by day in a city ruled by chaos and desolation. Is there a space for hope and kindness somewhere in Gatlon City? Maybe.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25123756/chapters/62643247

Evander chapter took me a little bit longer than expected, ngl. I think this one is a little more action-y than my previous work??? Or maybe I’m just fucking allucinating lol. 

Also, speaking of Evander, how do you guys pronunce his name? Because I was having Word to read this chapter out loud for me so I could recognize mistakes without having to read (?) and it pronunced it as Ee-vander, but I’ve always pronunced it as /E/vander, probably for the same reason I say “Simón” instead of “Simon” or “Hugo” instead of “Hugh”. Fellow spanish-speakers, back me up (? 

BUT REALLY I NEED TO KNOW IS THERE A CANON PRONUNCIATION FOR EVANDER’S NAME???? PLS HELP

Tag list (tell me if you want in or out): @nodrianbcyes @blueraspberry-official @healing-winston-pratt @itsalittlebitchilly @callumtreadwell @plain-jane-mclain

Bring me along to the world you see

Age of Anarchy

Year 9

The night is warm and windless. He looks up and tries to beg the moon for help, but he has lost his voice. A mysterious force holds his arms and legs. The only thing he can move is his head.

The sky is full of stars, red and big as rubies.

"Vandy ..."

He looked to his right. His father's green eyes meet his. He used to say that seeing his son was like looking in the most flattering mirror. They both had red hair, the same eyes, their teeth slightly apart… they were identical. But his father didn't have freckles. His mother did.

"Are you okay?"

On the left, he sees his mother. Her blonde hair covers her face, but he can notice her painted lips and perfect liner. She has always been very protective of her makeup. It makes her feel beautiful.

Evander doesn't understand. His mom is beautiful, even without makeup.

His mom is beautiful, even when she’s dead.

" Evander ..."

An ownerless hand puts the barrel of the gun to his forehead. The metal feels hot. The stranger puts his finger on the trigger and is about to shoot when Kasumi shakes him and whispers:

"Evander, wake up."

Evander woke up screaming and with his heart racing. A layer of cold sweat covered his entire body. Tears began to flow from his eyes and instinctively, he reached for Kasumi's arms and hugged her with all the strength of his body.

"The same nightmare?"

"The same nightmare," he replied.

Kasumi stroked his red locks, while the silence in the room was interrupted by the exasperated moans of the other girls who slept there. Alix approached them with disdain and deep dark circles under her eyes.

He hated Alix. She could look through walls, had just turned seventeen last week, and believed herself to be the leader of the whole place just because she was the oldest.

"You said he wasn’t going to have nightmares anymore, Kasumi," she told her accusingly.

Kasumi shrugged. Evander stuck his tongue out at her.

Three years ago, some Jackals broke into his home during dinner, pointing guns at his parents' heads and demanding answers they didn't have. The first thing his mother did was run at him to protect him, but suddenly, the youngest of the Jackals grabbed him by the collar of his dirty shirt and tried to snatch him away.

However, Samantha Wade was not going to let anyone separate her from her son. She clung to him as if her life depended on it. Evander was too scared and deafened by all the yelling, that he didn't feel his mother's nails digging into his skin. "Don't take my son, please don't kill my baby."

After struggling for a while the boy was able to yank Evander from his mother's arms. The woman let out a brutal scream and that was enough for his father to jump on the Jackal, ready to do everything he could to rescue his son.

The tallest man broke his neck.

He gave a low, hoarse laugh. Evander would never forget it.

"We just need the girl," he explained to the younger jackal. "You take care of the child."

Evander couldn't see his father's body for more than two seconds, because the Jackal took him out to the backyard, sat him on the grass, and ordered him severely:

"Stay still. Unless you want to end up like your dad."

Those words were enough for Evander to overcome his urge to disobey.

He took out of his pocket three fireworks and a lighter.

"Today is Fourth of July, Evander Jr,” he said. "Let’s celebrate.”

Those fireworks were the only thing that lit up that starless night. However, neither their outburst nor their beauty could hide the words that the jackal whispered in his ear:

"Listen to me carefully, kid. You are going to drop to the ground and you aren't going to get up until dawn. In the morning, you'll walk five blocks to the home for child prodigies and you'll tell Bertha that Tom Freud sent you. Now, you will be surrounded by prodigies. Some may be powerful, but you must never to kneel before them. Do you understand?"

How ironic that Evander turned out to be a prodigy. Although no one had knelt before him. Yet.

Tom Freud did not wait for him to respond. As soon as the last spark disappeared, he pushed him to the ground, put his foot on his back, and shouted:

"Stay still!"

The bullet whizzed past his ear. Evander didn't scream, he just obeyed. He stayed still when Freud took his foot off his back. He stayed still when the Jackals left. And he even stayed still when the first ray of the sun illuminated his face.

When he saw the corpses on the kitchen floor, he could only ask himself what would have happened if he had not stayed still.

Every time that nightmare woke him up, he would ask Kasumi the same question. She would only tell him to look out the window.

"Your parents greet you from the stars," she assured. "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Wade, hello."

Evander always responded with, “Look, your parents are there too. Hello, Mrs. Kasumi's mom, hello, Mr. Kasumi's dad. How do you say mom and dad in Japanese? "

Then, Kasumi proceeded to teach him some new words and expressions in Japanese. They both liked to put on solemn faces and start saying random phrases in Japanese when they were in public. They knew it was annoying for a lot of people, including Mom Bertha. She said Kasumi's mom used to do the same thing when they were younger when she was mad at her. Mom Bertha seemed sad after telling them this, so they decided not to do it in front of her anymore. Seeing Mom Bertha sad wasn't as fun as watching the older children get angry at them when they refused to explain what they were saying.

"You wouldn't understand," Evander told them, shaking his head with mock seriousness.

"That's right, you wouldn't understand," Kasumi agreed.

If others knew it was just random words and phrases, the game would be over, so they had to keep it a secret. Kasumi confessed that she regretted not being able to learn her parents' first language. However, she made an effort to learn how to say a very specific question. 

Unfortunately, it was a question she had to make very often.

"Vandy, did you wet the bed?"

Evander hugged her tighter. Kasumi nodded and began to remove the covers. The girls immediately noticed what happened and started complaining, especially Alix. Evander sat on the corner of the bed, feeling dirty, and humiliated. They all looked at him with disgust and mockery, secreting each other.

Yeah, they didn’t like the idea of Evander sleeping in the same room as them. They said there was a room for boys and a room for girls for a reason. But Mom Bertha wouldn’t hear a word about it. Evander was going to sleep there, whether they liked it or not. 

Why? Because he was a bed wetter and the boys weren’t very nice about it. Neither were the girls, but at least they didn’t start a fight with him when they realize Evander had wet the bed again. 

He looked out the window. Mom Bertha was outside, talking to some men. He couldn't see their faces.

Evander had seen these men before. Sometimes when nightmares woke him up, he would listen to Mom Bertha talking to them. There were times when they yelled at each other, but there were other times when they gave her boxes filled with food and medicine. Kasumi made up the story that they were the guardians of the shadows, protecting the kingdom of the night.

"They look scary," Evander said to her when she told him the story.

"Don't worry, they won't hurt us."

But lately, Evander heard more screams and saw fewer boxes.

She dropped the wet sheets on the floor and handed him some clean underwear. Evander crawled under a blanket to change. Although he had a lot of privacy that way, Kasumi still turned her back on him so as not to make him uncomfortable.

"Kasumi, don't you listen to what we're saying?" Alix asked.

"I’m listening, Alix," she replied shyly.

“Then stop ignoring us. Evander is getting too old to sleep with the girls, he has to go with the boys. "

"But they are going to hit him again," Kasumi said.

“Well, better for him,” Alix replied. "Maybe he’ll finally learn wetting the bed is a horrible habit.”

Evander pulled the blanket off, pointed his finger at Alix, and yelled:

"You are horrible!"

Alix opened her mouth to respond and Evander threw his dirty underwear at her face. Kasumi burst out laughing along with the rest of the girls. Alix squealed as Evander started bouncing on the bed yelling  "Horrible, horrible, horrible girl!"  in Japanese.

He would do anything to annoy Alix and to keep Kasumi laughing. 

When Alix recovered from the shock, she screamed:

"I'm going to kill you, Evander!"

A gunshot. Two gunshots.

Evander put a hand to his chest. Alix hadn't shot him.

Then who shot who?

Alix pushed Evander off the bed and leaned out the window. The shots had come from outside. Her face twisted in horror.

"Mom Bertha..."

All the other girls leaned over to look. Evander tried to push his way through them, but Kasumi quickly caught on and took him away from the scandal.

"Don't look," she whispered. "Please don't look."

"What happened?" he asked innocently. "Who’s shooting?"

"The guardians of the shadows," she replied, taking him by the shoulders, "have turned against us, Vandy."

As if she had summoned them, the guardians of the shadows knocked down the door to the girls' room pointing their guns at them. He and Kasumi hid under the bed, while the other girls screamed and raised their hands. The guardians of the shadows started holding them by their nightgowns and kicking them out into the corridor, not even giving them time to put on their shoes. The same scandal did not take long to begin in the men's room. A few more shots were heard.

And laughs. Low, hoarse laughs.

It can’t be…

The room was almost empty when a huge hand grabbed Kasumi by the wrist. Both screamed at the same time. Another hand grabbed Evander's arm and dragged them out of there.

The man was tall, muscular, and bald. A red bandanna covered his face.

Jackals.

"What are your powers!?" he yelled at Kasumi. His friend froze, staring at him with wide eyes and a sealed mouth. "What are your powers!?" he asked again.

More screaming. More demands. More questions they couldn't answer.

Evander tried to free himself from the man's grasp. All he wanted was to hug Kasumi once more. Maybe if he did it hard enough and for the right amount of time, he would be able to wake up.

The jackal growled and tossed Evander onto the bed as if ridding himself of an irritating mosquito. If he had done it harder, Evander would have been thrown out the open window.

The cold breeze gave him chills.

He looked at the window, then looked at his friend. She was still paralyzed and unable to answer the man's question. Kasumi, Evander, and the jackal were the only ones left in the room. Everyone else had gone to the common room.

He looked at the window. Then he looked at his friend.

The jackal drew his pistol and held it to Kasumi's head.

"WHAT ARE YOUR POWERS, LITTLE SLUT?!"

"She doesn’t understand you!" Evander yelled.

The jackal fell silent. Now the gun was pointed at him.

But Evander was not afraid.

"What are you talking about?"

“She doesn't speak English,” Evander explained, looking down. "That’s why she doesn't understand a single word of what you’re saying."

He looked at Kasumi curiously and threw Kasumi onto the bed, laughing. Evander hugged her.

Wake up, Vandy, wake up…

"What powers does the little slut have?" he asked Evander.

"I don't know," he replied, "she’s never used them."

"But she’s a prodigy."

"Yes, Mr. Jackal."

Another laugh. "I'm glad. If she wasn’t, I would have to kill her. And it would be a shame to kill such a pretty girl. "

Kasumi hugged him tighter. Perhaps she was also begging that it was all a dream. Or maybe she was more scared than he was.

Evander had to be brave for both of them.

"Do you want me to ask her for you?"

"Huh, now you happen to know Chinese," the jackal sneered.

"No, I know Japanese," Evander corrected.

He gave the loudest laugh of the night. Evander could perfectly visualize him breaking his dad's neck, laughing in the same way...

"Prove it."

Kasumi held his face in her hands. Her gaze seemed to scream at him:  "What are you doing?"  He had never seen her so confused.

He wished he could tell her what he was thinking.  Kasumi, don't be afraid. Think of this as a story. You know the best stories. Let's make our way out of this. Have a little bit of imagination.

But how could one have imagination at this moment?

"I... distraction... you window... we escape."

He saw his friend's gears moving inside her head. "Water... waterfall... escape," Kasumi stammered.

"Window, waterfall, escape" Evander repeated with a nod.

Kasumi smiled at him almost imperceptibly. She had understood. Those afternoons of annoying others had helped.

"What's she saying?" the jackal interrupted.

"She says she can heal trees," Evander replied.

"And what do you do?"

"I can control light."

It wasn't entirely a lie.

"And why aren't you wearing pants?"

Evander hadn't realized he was still in his boxers.

"I- I wetted the bed.”

The jackal's laughter echoed in his head. "How old are you? Six?"

"I’m eight, Mr. Jackal.”

The jackal pointed the gun at the old closet in the corner of the room. “Put on clothes, kid. And then go downstairs with the rest. "

Evander hurried to the closet. He grabbed the first pair of pants he could find. They were green and had strange spots on the knees. But he didn't have time to think about that. 

"What are you waiting, bitch? Move,” he yelled at Kasumi.

Kasumi didn’t move.

The pants were too big for him.

"I said move!" and hit her with the pistol’s grip.

Evander ran to get between the jackal and his friend. "Leave her alone!" he screamed.

The jackal raised his hand for a second blow. Both children closed their eyes, preparing for the beating they were about to receive. However, the blow did not come. Something had stopped the jackal.

Evander opened one eye. The jackal stared at him incredulously, his mouth slightly open.

He laughed. "I'm going to kill Freud..."

Then, he loaded his gun, put in on Evander's forehead, and said:

"Hello, Evander Jr. Stay still."

At that moment, Evander knew he couldn't stay still this time. 

He placed both of his hands over the jackal's eyes and fired the most powerful and explosive fireworks he could. The jackal's laugh became a cry of pain so loud that all of Gatlon City could hear it.

Kasumi carried him and created a waterfall that ran down to the fence door of the building. As Kasumi slid both of them to their freedom, Evander looked up at the stars.

He didn't know what would have happened if he hadn't stayed still four years ago. But if he had obeyed this particular jackal tonight, the sky would have one star more.

He loved his parents. But he didn't want to be a star just yet.

[starlight-drive-in]

Catching Feelings Ch. 3 Seven/MC College AU

Fic Summary:

MC’s roommate convinces her to attend a house party hosted by campus charity organization - The RFA. Minor legend and mystery on campus 707 is of course also there. MC thinks he’s weird - and absolutely adorable. Cheesiness ensues. 

Chapter Summary: 

Seven saves the day, and MC returns the favor.

Notes:

This chapter is a bit fan-service-y, a little trope-y and really, really fluffy. I hope you like it! 

AO3 Link  (Check here for warning/tags)

Chapter 3: Saving the Day

A short “squee” escapes MC’s lips as she reads over his messages again.

“What was that?” Mei asks.

“He called me beautiful!” She can’t help the smile that spreads across her face.

“See? Nothing to worry about. Even if he hasn’t seen the high-quality garbage you are in the morning!” Mei jabs affectionately.

“Hey!”

“I'm just kidding! Anyway, I have class. So you kids have fun and uhh stay safe!” Mei says opening the door.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” MC asks, but the door closes before she can get the sentence out fully.

With Mei gone the full reality of the situation hits her.

Saeyoung is coming over. Crap

She acted completely on impulse and now he’s going to realize she’s actually a smelly awkward mess when alcohol isn’t helping her words flow out so smoothly - if she could even call the previous night’s performance smooth. The point was that the alcohol helped her get her words out without her overthinking every little thing, especially in front of someone like him.

She attempts to make her bed, although that's a little rough with the headache that still persists. She borrows a bit of Mei’s perfume and makes sure to apply deodorant and then makes her way into the bathroom to brush her teeth. Halfway through brushing there’s a rhythmic knocking on the door almost like a little tune, so unique the only person it could possibly be is him.

She panics slightly, spitting out her toothpaste and quickly rinsing out her mouth, She smooths out her sweater and pads over to the door taking a deep breath and finally opens it. Saeyoung stands there in a crisp white button-down that seems to cling to him in all the right places. A small smile graces his lips as he runs a hand through his tousled red locks.

“Morning! Is it still morning?” He says.

“Hey. Uh” MC looks behind her at the alarm clock on the desk. “Yup still morning!”

Seven’s eyes sweep over the girl holding the door open in front of him. She looks comfortable - and adorable. Very warm, like she’d be perfect to snuggle up to and share hot cocoa with, and that sweater looks so soft! She looked sexy as hell the night before but if he’s being completely honest she looks even better like this. Like a girl you could - what’s the phrase? “Take home to mom”? If he had a mom that was. Take home to brother? Nah that doesn't sound good at all hmmm… Suddenly, something seems to catch his eye. “You um, have a little bit of something on your lip.”

“Shit.” MC stutters wiping her face.

“Oh, uh wrong side." He watches futility while she swipes the other side of her face, missing the spot again. "May I?” He raises his hand slightly, asking for permission to touch her.

“S-sure.” She can feel her face gaining heat already.

Using his thumb he quickly wipes the bit of toothpaste of the corner of her mouth. “There you go! Good as ever!”

“T-thanks" she blushes, "uhh you can come in! If you want of course.”

He studies her thoughtfully, blushing a bit himself and passes over the threshold into her dorm. “hmph, cute.” he mutters.

“What?” She asks, having not heard him well.

“Oh uh, nothing!” He attempts to cover, not realizing he had spoken aloud.

He was going to be the death of her.

“How’s your head?” Saeyoung asks her, taking off his backpack and setting in on the floor near her bed.

“Oh, its… ok.” She tries to play it off as she attempts to wheel her desk chair out for him to sit in, however one of the legs ends up rolling out in front of her and she trips, stumbling a bit before catching herself.

“hmmm" he taps his chin, "It's just as I thought.” he assesses.

“W-what do you mean?" She inquires.

“Back to bed with you missy! You need more recoup time!" Saeyoung declares, throwing back the covers on her bed and scooping her up before unceremoniously plopping her down unto her mattress.

She giggles despite the slight rush of pain that plagues her head as a result of his antics. “I guess there's no arguing that.”

He pulls up the desk chair to the side of her bed. “Do not fear! 707 has the perfect cure for you!”

“You mean your weird energy drink?” She giggles again.

“Oh no! No, no, I can’t actually let you test that, that’s what I have Yoosung for! You, pretty lady - get the real treatment! And also, I’ll have you know I almost came over here in my nurse costume just to administer it to you but I didn't want to scare you away.”

“Actually that would have been pretty amazing,” MC admits.

“Damn, next time then!” Saeyoung declares, taking items out of his bag.

“Let’s hope there isn't a ‘next time’. Last night wasn't exactly my best decision." She pauses for a moment, smiling "but I suppose the meeting you part was worth it.”

He smiles one of those smiles again and MC feels her heart flutter, little does she know how much her words made his heart feel much the same.

“Then I guess it’s only right for me to try and fix you up! Ok first, you need electrolytes!” he says brightly, handing her a sports drink. Which she takes with a smile. “Headache medication!” He continues, popping two out and handing them to her. “And finally…” He reaches into his backpack again and pulls out something wrapped in foil “Breakfast! I hope you like egg and cheese sandwiches?”

“That seriously sounds like the best thing ever right now.” She responds excitedly. “You sure know how to take care of a girl, keep that up and you’ll have me wrapped around your finger in no time,” She says before she can think. Oh my god, why did I say that? I'm not even drunk anymore, why does he make me say things like that?!

He says nothing, but smiles thoughtfully as he unwraps her breakfast for her making her feel like maybe he didn't exactly dislike that idea?

“Did you get one for yourself?” She asks, taking a bite. Her eyes roll back as a short moan escapes her lips and she throws her head back in satisfaction

Now it’s his turn for red cheeks. He wasn't exactly expecting to see that sight today. “Oh, uh. Nah! I had some chips this morning.”

“That's not a meal!” She scolds, still chewing. “Have the other half silly!”

“But that's for you!” He insists.

“Not anymore! You have to take care of yourself.”

“Says the girl who was drunk 12 hours ago!” He quips, taking the other half of the sandwich in defeat, it had been a while since he had any real food.

“Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be?”

“Mmhmm!” He says while chewing, neither of them obviously caring much for table manners. “I got you home and brought you breakfast so I get to make one jab at you!”

“Ok, fair enough.” She concedes.

They sit quietly for a moment, just eating and enjoying the company. She finishes up her half as he goes to take the second to last bite of his, inadvertently causing a shift in the contents of the tiny bit of remaining sandwich causing some egg and cheese to fall onto his shirt. Or rather - his brother’s shirt.

“Aww shit.” He mutters.

“Oh no!” she exclaims. “That's the curse of white shirts, you wear one and you’re immediately more likely to drop something on it.”

“Right? Ugh, Saeran’s gonna murder me.” He groans

She cocks her head in confusion “Who’s Saeran?”

“My brother, I borrowed this from him cuz I maaay have forgotten to do laundry and I maaaay have... wanted to look nice for you?" He hurries through the second part of his statement.

She smiles at the confession, “Well you do look nice, but there’s no way I’m letting your brother kill you! The laundry room is down the hall. I can throw it in the wash for you! I have a load of whites to do anyway.”

“I’d feel so bad to make you do that when you’re not feeling well though!” He whines.

“Nonsense! I'm feeling much better thanks to you! Now take your shirt off!” Shit, I did it again, think before you speak MC.

“Oh ho ho, so forward!” He chuckles with a sly look and a wink. "I like that."

The wink hits her straight in the chest like a bullet “Ahh I didn't mean it like that.” MC stammers.

He chuckles unbuttoning his shirt, “You are way too cute.”

She glances away bashfully. “T-thanks.”

He gets all the buttons undone and pulls off his shirt standing up from where he was seated. “You have a basket of the other stuff you need to be washed? We can go together if you want,” he asks.

She can’t speak for a moment she just points and nods her head watching him as he puts his shirt in with her laundry and picks up the basket like a model in some male pin-up magazine. This isn’t fair, I thought he was a Comp-Sci major?! He said he eats chips for breakfast! Why does he have abs!? She can almost see the cover of the magazine that would feature the image in front of her, the caption reads: "Local man eats chips for breakfast and sits in front of a computer all day but still has a 6 pack, Doctors hate him!"

“Ready?” He asks, snapping her out of her thoughts. Did he notice her staring?

He smirks.

He totally noticed her staring and now that face isn't making it any easier not to stare!

“Y-yea!” She answers quickly, getting up and slipping her flip-flops on.

In the hall, she catches more than a few girls and a couple boys ogling her companion. One girl she shares a class with gives an impressed look and an enthusiastic nod.

"Saeyoung?" She says when they get to their destination.

"Ya?" He answers casually tossing items into the washer.

"Um, I think a couple people we passed in the hall were getting the wrong idea about us."

"Us? Why?"

"Well, you're not wearing a shirt, and I still look like a hot mess. It's still somewhat morning, people might think... things."

He takes another glance at her, raising an eyebrow as he looks her over again. "Your definition of “mess” seems really inaccurate, the other part-"

A familiar male voice cuts him off "Seven?" It questions.

"Yoosung!" He cries excitedly. "What are you doing here?! You feeling ok? I heard that chocolate milk is a great cure for a hangover."

"I have a group project with someone in this dorm and I'm not falling for that again, Seven!" He defends, Seven just shrugs in response and throws in a pair of MC's leggings into the washer before picking up another article.

"Uh… Seven?" Yoosung says slowly, not looking at Seven's face.

"Ya?"

"Why do you have a girl's bra? And where's your shirt?! "

"Oh. Uhhh." Seven stammers, trying not to picture how the lacey bralette must look on her. "I, uh."

MC's shock is unavoidable but she has to think fast. "Oops! That's mine! It must have fallen into your stuff on accident, I'll just be taking that, thanks! Sorry about that!" She snatches her undergarment from out of Saeyoung's hand and holds it to her chest possessively.

Yoosung's eyes snap to her and then narrow before he smiles at her. "Have we met?"

Wasn't he that drunk kid who kinda latched onto her shoulders last night?

"I'm Yoosung by the way!" He says excitedly seeming to have completely forgotten about Seven who just snickers as he throws the rest of the load in.

So this is his test subject MC thinks to herself.

"Nice to meet you, Yoosung. You must be a friend of Saeyoung's?" She asks.

Seven turns back around just in time to receive a questioning look from Yoosung. "Yea, I mean I'd like to think so at least. Although I'm curious about how you met Saeyoung." He emphasis the name while looking at Seven questioningly once more.

"We met at the RFA party." Seven tells him.

"The one last night?" Yoosung asks doubtfully.

"Yup! That's the one!"

"Hmph, interesting…" Yoosung deadpans. "Well, I've gotta get to work on this project. I'll see you and your new friend later."

“Awww, Yoosungie! Don’t be jealous.” Seven calls as Yoosung walks away.

"Is he ok?" MC inquires once she's sure Yoosung is out of earshot.

"Yea, he's just sensitive."

"Whatever about?"

"I knew him for 2 years before I told him my real name he's probably wondering why you already know it when we only met last night."

MC hums contemplatively. "And why do I know it?"

"Because." He says simply.

"Because?"

"Mmhmm"

"Is that all your going to tell me?"

"Mmhmm!"

"Why don't you use your real name anyway? Do you not like it?" She asks as he uncaps the laundry detergent. "C-cuz I think it's a cute na- I mean a nice name. I mean I'm just kinda wondering why you don't use it I guess?"

He smiles at her compliment but it doesn't reach his eyes. "It's a dangerous name. A dangerous name for a dangerous person."

She cocks an eyebrow at him and barks a laugh "Oh, yea you look real intimidating right now pouring that laundry detergent."

He laughs with her while he finishes up with the machine.

She gasps dramatically, “Oh no whatever will I do?! This man NO, not a man! This menace came to my dorm and did my laundry after he fed me and made my headache go away, he must be stopped!”

“I know, I know It’s hard to believe because I’m so cute but it’s true!” He defends.

“Ok, Ok. should I be careful of you helping old ladies across the street too?”

“Don’t say I didn't warn you, Sweetie” He says in a sing-song voice.

For a moment she considers whether or not he’s actually being serious, but she just can’t imagine the guy standing in front of her right now - who, by the way, is currently trying to blow a stray hair out of his face and failing (adorably)- being involved in anything even remotely dangerous. No this is definitely another one of his stunts.

Seven’s phone goes off, interrupting her train of thought. “Shit,” He says, sounding disappointed.

“What’s up?”

“I’ve got class in 30 minutes, guess I didn't think this through to well.” He says finally tucking that pesky hair loss behind his glasses and motioning to the laundry machine.

“That’s ok!” She ensures, “I can bring you your shirt later tonight, or tomorrow! I know where you live.” She says tauntingly.

“Oh ho ho, now whos the one trying to seem dangerous hmm?” He reaches out, tickling her side. She stifles a giggle and jumps back a bit.

“Uh oh.” He says

“What?” she says nonchalantly.

“You're ticklish!” “I have no idea what you’re referring too,” She says backing away from him, but smiling all the same.

“Mmmhmm.” He hums sauntering closer to her until she backed up against the wall. “Then I guess you won’t mind if I…” he pauses “DO THIS” he finishes attacking her sides in feather-light caresses.

She thrashes back and forth in a fit of giggles, filling the air and Seven’s heart alike with mirthful joy. He chuckles watching her react to him.

Her face becomes flushed with a dusting of pink, her eyes prick with tears as she smiles from ear to ear. He becomes so enraptured with it all that he begins to slow his torturous tickling and then ceases completely. Just. Staring into her eyes.

They’re so close now. He could close that gap very easily, but would she welcome it? He inches a bit closer, her eyes widen as she’s entranced by his molten gold irises her breath hitches in her throat and then…

His phone blares again, knocking them both out of their trance. Saeyoung stumbles back, embarrassed and checks his phone again “Crap, I’ve got 20 minutes” he mumbles.

She frowns as he steps away from her. “Guess you better get a move on, then”

“One more thing, can I ask you a favor?” He says slowly and she nods in agreement, “Can I borrow a shirt?”

[swhurtcomfort]

Can be read as a sequel to (x) if desired - tl;dr,  Padmé tips Obi-Wan off that Anakin is teetering on the edge of an emotional breakdown. Anakin comes home in the middle of the night and Obi-Wan takes care of him and lulls him to sleep with the Force.

...

Anakin sat up and was immediately assaulted by the need to sneeze, several times in succession.

“Gah,” he whined nasally when he was finally able to draw a breath in. He felt a hand guiding him back down to lay on the pallet.

“I know.” That was Obi-Wan’s voice, tinny as if it were coming from the end of a long tunnel. He handed Anakin a handkerchief.

Anakin took it gratefully and blew his nose. He lied back down with a groan of discomfort.

“Shh,” said Obi-Wan. “It’s little wonder you’re ill, Anakin, you’ve not been taking care of yourself. I suspect this is a long time coming.”

He’d pushed himself too hard for too long, and the moment he had let down his defenses his body had betrayed him. Anakin turned his head and saw the sun high behind the blinds. The morning was half over.

That was bizarre, Anakin never slept in. He realized that he didn’t remember any unpleasant awakenings the previous night. Obi-Wan’s sleep suggestion had nudged him right into a deep, mercifully dreamless sleep.

Anakin sniffed, and a little shudder ran up his back. “I’m cold,” he croaked.

“That’s your fever. It spiked quite high a few hours ago,” Obi-Wan whispered. “You should sleep more if you can.”

Anakin slept. The fever dreams were soft and fuzzy, and he couldn’t quite remember what they’d been about, but it was at least a nice change from waking up with his heart racing and gory images pressing in on his mind. He woke once to the sensation of something occluding his ear, but it was only Obi-Wan taking his temperature.

The thermometer withdrew from his ear. “It’s come down a bit,” Obi-Wan whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

And he did.

When Anakin finally came around for good, he felt more like a human again. There was a glass of water waiting for him on the bedside table – bless Obi-Wan’s soul.

As he took a long draught he glanced at the rest of the clutter on the table. The medkit sat open with the thermometer lying on top, a bowl of water with a cloth soaking in it, several handkerchiefs, and Obi-Wan’s commlink. He realized with a pleasant jolt that his former master really had been fussing over him.

He drained the glass of water and blew his nose, then picked up the commlink to check the time and nearly dropped it in surprise. It was late afternoon, but that wasn’t what shocked him. Obi-Wan had two unread messages from Padmé Amidala.

Anakin couldn’t open or read the messages without Obi-Wan’s password, so he put the commlink down. He supposed they could be professional correspondence…but when he and Obi-Wan had acted as Padmé’s protectors their communication had always been over datapad, and had usually come from the Senate or at least one of her staffers, not Padmé herself. They were always very careful to keep their personal and professional messages separate, for secrecy’s sake.

Of course, Obi-Wan wouldn’t have to worry about that because he had nothing to hide. Unless…

No. Anakin smirked to himself. He was pretty sure that Obi-Wan only had eyes for his one true love, the Jedi Code. Anakin had even laughed out loud at Senator Palpatine when the old man suggested otherwise. It had seemed preposterous. But…

No, Obi-Wan would never. And for that matter, Padmé would never. Anakin clenched his fist at the thought. No. Padmé was pregnant with his child. She loved him, and only him. He refused to doubt that.

Anakin wasn’t sure what emotion was making his heart beat like that, but he told himself it was amusement. What a silly suspicion. He dragged himself upright and put clean clothes on before venturing out of the bedroom. His sinuses were congested, and the pressure felt like it was squeezing his head.

“Ugh,” he complained as he shuffled into the common area where Obi-Wan was silently working.

“You should’ve stayed in bed,” said Obi-Wan mildly, sipping his tea.

There was enough hot water at the bottom of Obi-Wan’s teapot for about three quarters of a cup, so Anakin helped himself.

“Did I miss lunch?”

Obi-Wan nodded.

“And the Council Meeting?”

Obi-Wan smiled. “I let them know why. It’s alright, Anakin, you clearly needed the rest.” Obi-Wan stood up and walked to the cooling unit. “When the refectory starts serving dinner in an hour, I’ll go pick us up some real food. But here,”

He walked around the table to where Anakin was sitting and placed before him another supplement drink like the one he had made last night.

Anakin had been given the same type of drink during his first few months at the Temple, to help him catch up in height and weight after years of poor nutrition. He smiled—after all this time, Obi-Wan remembered which flavor he liked best.

The smile faded quickly. He sipped at the shake, then gathered up his courage. “Have you, um, heard from Senator Amidala lately?”

Obi-Wan gave him a curious look. “Well, no. It’s been quite a long time since the Order has had resources to spare for supplying bodyguards to senators.”

The fearful suspicion in Anakin’s chest flickered up like a flame in sharp wind. Why would he lie? “Well, um, maybe you should check your comm then—you left it in my room,” he said pointedly.

“Ah.” Obi-Wan paused to sip his tea.

“I didn’t realize the two of you talked,” said Anakin.

“Infrequently,” Obi-Wan shrugged.

Anakin knew that he was tipping his hand—if it turned out there was some innocent explanation for this, Obi-Wan would know exactly what to make of Anakin’s obvious jealousy. But his heart was racing, and his mental shields were wavering.

“Anakin, you are making this up to be something it isn’t,” said Obi-Wan calmly.

“Am I?” Anakin didn’t care that he was shouting.

“Yes. Calm down.”

“I think I have a right to know if—if—”

Obi-Wan sighed. “Would you really like the truth?”

Anakin sat back in his chair, arms folded expectantly.

“Very well.” Obi-Wan mirrored Anakin’s posture, and took a moment to choose his phrasing. “I reached out to Padmé for the first time last autumn.”

Anakin sucked in a sharp breath. Last autumn had been one of the most vulnerable times in his life, in the wake of Ahsoka’s departure.

“It was the week after she left,” Obi-Wan elaborated, knowing that Anakin understood who he was referring to. “After the night you stormed out on me. You didn’t come back to the Temple for days.”

Anakin tilted his head in acknowledgement. He remembered. He had lashed out at Obi-Wan’s attempts to comfort him, then run away to Padmé’s apartment.

“I didn’t know if—I just wanted to know that you were alright, Anakin. Padmé tried to cover for you, but once I confessed that I knew about your relationship and promised that all I wanted was confirmation that you were someplace safe, she admitted that you were staying with her.”

Anakin gave him a horrified look. “You…wait, what?”

Obi-Wan exhaled slowly. “We were worried. I’m still worried. There were a few other times we checked in after that, when you seemed like you might be a danger to yourself or one of us couldn’t find you.”

“Like last night?”

Obi-Wan nodded. “She messaged me after you left her apartment. She said you were sleep-deprived and agitated, and asked me to confirm that you got home safely. So I did.”

“Wait, back up,” said Anakin with a shake of his head. “You knew? You know all of it?”

“Perhaps not everything,” Obi-Wan admitted. “But I have long known that you care for her, and that when you sneak out of the Temple late at night, you are visiting her. I know that she has declined to publically name the father of her child—as is her right—so I can only presume to guess about that.”

“Argh,” Anakin tilted back in his chair, raking his fingers across his scalp.

“I know it’s been an awful year,” Obi-Wan stammered. “Sometimes it seemed like…I’m sorry, it seemed like Ahsoka was the only thing keeping you in the Order and now—”

“It’s hard,” Anakin interrupted, setting all four legs of the chair down with a thud. “I hope you realize how hard it is for me to look at all the facts at once. The Council did this to her. They kicked her out and left her at Tarkin’s mercy and you didn’t try to stop them—I think maybe you even agreed with them. But I know you cared about her, too, and that you didn’t want this to happen. I hope you know how hard it is to reconcile those two things.”

Obi-Wan looked like he’d been slapped in the face. “I do know,” he breathed.

Obi-Wan waited for a moment, before continuing. “I understand why it’s hard for you to be around me right now. I’ve been trying to give you space.”

“You have?” Anakin sniffled.

Obi-Wan nodded.

“I thought maybe,” Anakin had to pause to sneeze. He hated the way the congestion distorted his voice; it made him feel even more vulnerable opening up. “I had a feeling like you were angry with me. I thought maybe it was because of how I reacted—how I defied the council to try and exonerate her, and how I let my emotions get away from me.”

“No,” said Obi-Wan, almost in a whisper. His voice had been getting progressively quieter as Anakin’s grew louder. “Never, Anakin. I thought you were angry with me.”

“Well, I was,” said Anakin, mostly to cover up the overwhelming relief that was gripping him. “I felt like the Council was taking everything away from me—even taking you away from me. Sometimes I start shaking and it’s like I can’t think, Master. And I’m just so angry. But it always starts to feel meaningless after a while. Like, what’s my anger going to do? It’s not like I haven’t already pushed everyone away.”

Anakin wasn’t sure exactly when the tears had welled up in his eyes, but he held them back. It was aggravating his sinuses. He sniffed hard.

Obi-Wan, who seemed to have an endless supply of handkerchiefs in the pockets of his robes, handed one over.He suddenly needed Obi-Wan to say something—anything—even another lecture about attachment would’ve been better than the silence. It felt like judgement.

Anakin turned away before the tears fell against his will.

“Wait,” Obi-Wan murmured. Anakin ignored him.

“Why can’t you tell me?” Obi-Wan asked. He took a step forward, and Anakin stopped.

“I couldn’t. You never — I mean, if you ever found out about...”

“About what?”

The feverishness and the lack of rest and general crappiness of his mood were making him more loose-lipped than ever. “Just stop. I don’t want you to try and fix it. I don’t need another meditation lesson. So sorry, Master dear, your padawan is so unteachable—”

“You stop,” Obi-Wan countered. “You are deliberately goading me so that I’ll get angry too and justify this little—” He almost said tantrum, but he realized that the barb was exactly what Anakin wanted.

“You really want to know? Be my guest,” Anakin snapped. He turned back to face Obi-Wan and pushed brazenly into his former master’s mind, straining their old bond.

He showed Obi-Wan the images that haunted backs of his eyelids at night—memories real or distorted, and projections into a terrible future. Padmé’s life energy fading out as she lay in a medical cot. Blood seeping into Tatooine sand, glimmering with the reflection from his lightsaber. Ahsoka in tears, demanding to know why he remained loyal to the Order that had failed her—or sometimes it was Fives and Tup who stood before him, begging for the same explanation. Obi-Wan’s head lolling back as he lay limp in Ahsoka’s arms, a bloody gaping hole in his chest.

He felt a sharp spike of guilt through their bond at the last image, and Obi-Wan’s presence began to retreat, shields slamming back down.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispered, stunned.

“I can’t sleep,” Anakin confessed. “It’s taken over me. I want out.”

“Anakin, no,”

Anakin trembled, hoping Obi-Wan wasn’t about to counter with some sage advice about healers or the will of the Force, because if he did Anakin might just punch him.

But what happened was the last thing that he expected. A hand on his shoulder, guiding him forward as Obi-Wan’s other arm wrapped around. Anakin accepted the comfort, pressing his face into the fabric of Obi-Wan’s shoulder heedless of his snotty tearful self. He was shocked how easy it was just to let Obi-Wan hold him.

Anakin withdrew from the hug to blow his nose, and Obi-Wan sank wearily down into the sofa. “You know, mine are usually about you,” he said hesitantly.

“Your what?” Anakin asked, sitting beside him.

“Nightmares. Sometimes it’s Qui-Gon, or Master Tahl. But mostly you. There’s one where I’m with you in the Halls of Healing just after you lost your arm, and you’re distraught, and Vokara Che is yelling at me because I couldn’t protect you.”

Anakin stared, and Obi-Wan suddenly looked like he regretted the sudden confession.

“More like she was yelling at you for being out of your own healing bed,” Anakin quipped, trying to ease the tension. Obi-Wan had nightmares. This is the first he’s heard of it.

“How come you never said?” Anakin asked. Obi-Wan gave the outward appearance of thriving under pressure, always composed and just a little bit distant. It was a sad realization, but also a comforting one. Until now, he had barely stopped to consider that Obi-Wan might be struggling too.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat and ignored the question.

Anakin glanced at the supplement shake still sitting mostly untouched on the table. It occurred to him that Obi-Wan wouldn’t have had them on hand unless his own healer had prescribed them, which meant she wasn’t happy with the way he’d been eating lately.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin nagged.

“I didn’t think you needed any more burdens, Padawan,” he finally said.

Anakin didn’t know how to explain that it wouldn’t have been a burden. Force, he thought he’d been suffering alone—he’d thought it made him a bad Padawan, and a worse Master. He wondered if the war had been eating Ahsoka alive from the inside too, in ways that he couldn’t see.

Anakin leaned back into the sofa and let his side rest against Obi-Wan’s. Obi-Wan exhaled softly in amusement, but accepted the use of his shoulder as a pillow.

“I wish I could stop missing her so much,” he mumbled into Obi-Wan’s robe.

“Anakin, it’s alright. Ahsoka’s not gone, but your life together is, and it’s alright to grieve for that.”

“We’re always grieving something or other,” Anakin shrugged. “That’s how life goes.”

“No.” Obi-Wan said, slipping his hand into Anakin’s. “It isn’t supposed to be like this.”

There was no answer for that.

“You never got to learn what it means to be a Jedi in peacetime,” Obi-Wan stated. “I hope that you will someday.”

Anakin tried to imagine it, and shook his head. The Jedi Order and the war were inseparable in his mind. There was really no ‘before’ for him – there had been a few years before the clones and the open warfare, sure, but by the time Maul was discovered the gears had already been turning. He doubted that Obi-Wan really knew what it was to be a Jedi in peacetime either.

Obi-Wan pressed the back of his hand briefly to Anakin’s forehead, but he said nothing.

“I am sorry for talking behind your back with Padmé,” Obi-Wan volunteered. “But I am not sorry that there was another pair of eyes looking out for you.”

Anakin shifted his weight on the sofa. “She was always begging me to talk to you about stuff, but I didn’t think…well, I didn’t know how you would react.”

“Well, then I’m sorry for that too,” said Obi-Wan. “I really hope you feel safe enough to turn to at least one of us.”

“I’ll try,” said Anakin, and he meant it. “But only if you will too.”

[aldbooks]

Desperada

...

What the everloving hell did I just watch?

Beware the salt... also the GIF use lol

Basically... I fucking hated it. The entire time I watched it, the majority of the words coming out my mouth were some variation of “what the fuck? This is excruciating!” I honestly can’t believe I actually watched it twice 🤦🏻‍♀️

Ok so, first we start off with some quality Lukanette and even Marinette’s friends are all “Wow! Marinette and Luka are so cute together. What a good match they make. Maybe she should give him a shot instead of Adrien?!”

But then of course, Adrien shows up!... with Kagami. And Marinette, predictably, becomes Disasternette. At this point, we’re not even two minutes in and I already kinda wanna turn it off.

So then the gang goes above stairs to see what’s going on and Disasternette becomes even worse when Jagged Stone asks her to help him find a new guitarist. Everyone of course expects her to say Luka, cuz duh. But no. She picks 🥁... Adrien.

Who doesn’t even play guitar.

Then Jagged says “what about that kid wearing my face on his shirt with the guitar strapped on his back?” (Lol) and Mari’s like “oh, of course!” Cue short lived sigh of relief, cuz it’s immediately followed by “Luka can let Adrien borrow his guitar!”

At this point I’m actually kinda angry. Because not only are they once again making Marinette look like an absolute fool, they made beautiful, selfless Luka look like a complete push over because he just gives the guitar to Adrien to please Marinette. Wtf??

And still, we’re not even four minutes in. At this point, I know this is going to be a very long episode.

So, now the introduction to this episode’s akuma, Desperada. I ain’t mad it. Cool costume design, semi legit reason for akumatization, also, we now know what that random akuma from the Gamer 2.0 episode is that we were all like who the heck is that?

Fast forward a little here: Mari has a bit of an ah-ha moment with Tikki like “omg why did I give the guitar to Adrien? Why am I like this?” (Unfortunately it isn’t the development we’re hoping for though, as we find out very soon)

There are some quality Lukadrien moments as they both try to hide from Desperada and help Ladybug.

There’s a moment where Luka plays his guitar and both Ladybug and Adrien go all dreamy eyed, which I loved (Lukadrinette for the win) but my salty ass kinda wanted Adrien to see Ladybug getting goo-goo eyed over someone else and get jealous. Lmao

Anyways, so Lucky Charm gives her a gong and we all know that means it’s time for a new miraculous holder. Yay! Of course it’s obvious now this is Viperion’s episode but there’s a moment of confusion (and an epic face palm) when Marinette is all “I know the perfect person for the job! 🥁 Adrien!”

Seriously? Wtf.

Upon hearing that Ladybug wants to give the miraculous to Adrien, Chat Noir distracts Ladybug long enough to destransform so he can accept it.

Also see here how he pushes Luka back into the locker like “why don’t you just stay here 😉” so she won’t think to give it to him instead, when she can’t immediately find Adrien.

So Adrien and Plagg debate (read: Plagg tries to talk some sense into his idiot holder who completely ignores him cuz “omg ladybug needs me!” Um, yeah dipshit, she needs you to be Chat Noir) and for a hot minute I think we’re gonna get Snake Noir. But, Adrien wants Ladybug to fall in love with him as ‘himself’ 🤦🏻‍♀️ So never mind.

Also for a hot minute I think Adrien is going to actually do the right thing and refuse, but of course not, because this is ML...

Side note: Adrien’s acting when he opens the box and pretends to be surprised to see a kwami is on point.

Side side note: I don’t know what I expected Sass’s transformation phrase to be, but it def wasn’t “scales slither” 😒 and also, his transformation sequence is terrible and that costume is a travesty. (His end pose also kinda reminds of the gif of the guy from Road to El Dorado aggressively playing the mandolin😂)

Anyway, so for basically the first time ever, we actually see Ladybug explaining the miraculous rules and powers to the new holder. Adrien tells a corny joke and basically acts just like Chat, to which Ladybug giggles

Again I think Adrien is about to do the right thing when Ladybug basically tells him to his face that Chat Noir is an unnecesary part of the team; so, naturally, he doesn’t.

Basically both of these kids act like selfish little shits so they can spend time together. For once I’m actually very proud of Plagg for calling Adrien out. “You’re supposed to be saving Paris, not flirting!”

What happens next is a montage of Adrien epically failing to save Ladybug with the Second Chance (do I sense a metaphor here? Is this foreshadowing? Ha! As if). He finally gives up the miraculous and good lord, thank you!

Then we find out he failed over 25k times before he finally made the right call...

So Luka shows up and of course it’s Adrien who is all “Luka should have the miraculous” not Ladybug (because she can’t actually chose Luka herself for anything) And of course Luka just stands there while she kisses Adrien and thanks him for his help, blatantly letting Luka know he was the second choice (def a metaphor). *sigh*

Luka’s transformation of course is hella dope. I really wanted Ladybug to have an “oh no. He’s hot” moment, cuz let’s be real...

Also, why is Ladybug suddenly completely cool with civilians knowing the identity of a miraculous holder???

We’re now over 17 minutes into the episode, nearly the end, and I’m just now realizing that the episode where Luka is introduced as Viperion, isn’t even about him.

Luka then, after a couple of tries, actually is the one to figure out how to win, proving he was the right pick for the snake from the get go. He plays the damn Lyre, because of course he does, and they use Ladybug’s second Lucky Charm (a saddle btw. What the actual hell. This is some more weird, 50 shades type shit (see Reverser)) to defeat the akuma.

Back on the boat, Jagged again apologizes for being a diva and instead of getting some resolution to the Lukanette mistreatment at the beginning of the episode, we get Kagami once again being all “better step up Marinette before I steal your man” which is just the cherry on the cake really

Other notes:

- in my opinion, this entire episode was essentially Adrien/Ladrien fan service

- as another poster astutely pointed out: Adrien acted basically exactly the same while Aspik as he does when Chat Noir, essentially blowing up Tom’s whole theory about Chat being the “real” Adrien

-Master Fu: this miraculous should be given to someone who won’t abuse it

Ladybug: gives it to Adrien- who proceeds to abuse it

- all I think we learned from this episode, is that both Adrien and Marinette need to get over their obsessions with Ladybug/Adrien because it severely impedes their ability to make rational, sensible, non-selfish decisions.

Also, that knowing each other’s identities really isn’t a good idea. Yeah I hear you, “what about Oblivio?” In Oblivio, they literally knew nothing about each other, other than they cared about each other and they worked well together. There was no ‘hero worship’ ‘he/she’s so perfect’ mentality to get in the way, just good old fashioned trust. So does knowing who the other is actually work for them?

Ha! I’ve been dying for a good opportunity to use that set

I don’t think I’ve said it before on here, but def in my comments on my fic I Wanna Be Bad: I loved Adrien when this show started. Of the cast of characters, he def had the most potential. Lately though I’ve kinda given up on him.

He’s had zero growth. In fact, some times I think he’s actually gone backwards, especially as Chat Noir. He’s become increasingly petulant and childish and hasn’t learned a damn thing about respecting Ladybug’s boundaries or how to take being a hero seriously. It’s honestly killing the love square for me.

The writing on this show in general has become atrocious. For instance, this episode (according to reported production order) takes place after Silencer. Meaning Mari sat there and listened to Luka confess to her twice, and then goes and says he’s “just a friend” (yes, literally. She pulled an Adrien) and continues to humiliate herself for a guy who’s openly shown an interest in another girl.

It’s so painful to watch. Just as it’s painful to see Chat continually rip his heart out for LB even when she keeps turning him down.

Enough is enough already. We get it. Let them move on. Just because they date other people, doesn’t mean they won’t still end up together. That’s called reality.

[multishipper-omg]

Love of my life (Jareth x Uma)

It was the wedding party between Mal and Ben, Uma had been one of the "Bridesmaids" among the 15 that Mal had chosen for her big day. Among the crisp and strong colors between yellow, violet and green, music, the blows of cups, everything, was unimportant for Uma.

It had been a month that he had left the labyrinth, the goblins, his king, after a great quarrel in which both left saying horrendous things, hurting his heart. He returned to Auradon after the surprise of his friends to believe her dead, and was welcomed with emotion and affection. Harry had ended his relationship with Audrey so he could be next to his captain.

Her full body dress with dark purple and gold frills had her crazy. She hated him, especially that excessive rhinestones with dragon flame in her corset forced her to lean her body forward with how heavy they were. Evie had done a nice but annoying job for her, although for the other ladies it was as if they were wearing a very light silk dress. There was the incredible toast and then the music started playing all over the place, flooding the halls with their melodies. It was beautiful, but the Underground music seemed better because Jareth often sang for her.

He watched the couples dance and remembered those ballroom dances where they balanced her delicately, the small smiles full of meaning, and that phrase that had made his heart loosen like sea foam: “but i be there for you, as the world falls down. ”The memory was killing her next to that last chaotic time when the phrases of affection became sharp daggers and swords:

"I wish I had never accepted you in my life before"

"And I wish you had never stolen my heart"

“Uma are you alright? The thick, worried voice made her look at Harry. A tear slipped from his cheek that quickly cleaned.

“I'm fine, just a little emotional. You know…"

"I doubt it's because of Mal and Ben," he said with a strange smile. The pirate extended his hand to his captain with a wonderful bow "Can you grant me this piece, my lady?"

The pirate witch smiled slightly and accepted her friend's hand. Then they began to dance very close to each other, and their eyes were on par with sincere smiles of love. Uma loved Harry but not in the romantic way, and he would have liked it to be otherwise, maybe his heart hadn't finished breaking as he was at that moment of being him. Harry started a casual talk, telling the details for a new naval acquisition. Uma listened attentively until he felt something. A force that forced him to turn his gaze beyond his friend's shoulder, making her look sideways.

A tall figure, dressed in a dark blue jacket and pants, a white poet t-shirt with frills protruding and a mop of blond hair sticking out in an electric style looked at her at the other end of the room, holding a black mask shaped demon with horns. When Harry turned around he looked in the same direction again but the figure disappeared.

His heart skipped a beat as he continued searching the sides for the figure. Harry was stunned by his captain's behavior.

"Hey what's up?"

“Is that me… Harry have you seen a guest with a mask?

“Mask at a wedding? Not that it was Halloween, ”she said, smiling, taking interest from the matter, but Uma was racing, her heart beating a thousand. I would recognize that suit, that old eighties hair and that bearing on either side. His gaze sought the man with despair, fear and longing. Before another turn in the middle of the room the figure reappeared, just at the exit of the room. The eyes behind the mask stared at the witch until she turned around and left the place.

Uma pushed Harry with all his might, babbling an apology as he held the skirts of his dress in his hands and ran to the exit. He walked away from the living room down the stairs quickly as he searched for that person desperately. I wasn't imagining it, I shouldn't be doing it. He could feel it so close and yet so far from his being.

For a moment he didn't know which way to go, he had gone again. Was it a torture of his mind? A cruel way to remind him of his happy days? He thought he had gone crazy until his necklace shone brightly in the darkness of the garden and saw a trail of glitter spread along a path away from the royal halls. He followed them. He advanced carefully in the middle of the earth because of his high shoes and more than once stumbled until he fell, but in that way he began to approach the surroundings of the enchanted lake. Celtic instrumental music began to play as it drew closer, and upon arrival it found a beautiful royal pavilion in the middle of the lake connected to the ground by a wooden bridge. The pavilion was adorned by branches full of fragrant green leaves, glowing white lights that highlighted their pearl white color, and thousands of fireflies danced around as part of the magical event. But what most captivates Uma's heart, is that upon reaching it and looking amazed at the sides, the masked figure returned, revealing his face.

Uma froze, almost breathless, as Jareth approached her with a serious, but warm look. He held her with his hands on his tight waist.

"I thought ..." said the witch with a lump in her throat. “I thought we would never see each other again”

“Do you think I will let one of my treasures go at the mercy of these mundane rich children? No, Uma, I take care of what belongs to me. You belong to Me."

Jareth's grip became possessive, bringing the brunette closer to her with a big hug. He had missed her too much and there was no eternal minute when he didn't blame himself for what had happened.

"Dance with me" he order, but he also beg.

Uma got carried away by him at every turn and step. Suddenly he felt that he was returning to the hall of his happy days only that this dance was only for them. Only the two in their private bubble.

"How could you ...?"

"Get to you? I have enough power to materialize in this world. While it runs out easily and it takes me a long time to recover this is worth it ”

"When you yelled at me I thought it was worth nothing to you"

“You are worth my life, Uma. The day you left was the day I died, that's why I had to come. For that reason I had to go to your side ”

The dance stopped and suddenly the proud King Goblin was leaning towards his sea witch, his oceanic queen: his queen of Underground. This was his way of asking for his return to his world.

“I was an idiot for shouting at you like that, for telling you those horrible things. When you left immediately I wanted to go looking for you, but my hurt pride prevented me from doing so. Your words tormented me every second "I wish you had never stolen my heart" there I knew you corresponded to my feelings. I also knew that I loved you. ” Jareth held Uma's cheeks and ran his nose over them gently, “How could I have hurt you? I know I can be cruel, but even today I moved the stars for you when not before. Forever and ever. You are the magic that gives life to eternity… You are the love of my life ”

Tears gathered in Uma's eyes wanting to cry, Jareth was confessing his love, Jareth had told him he loves her. Jareth loves her as much as she did and allowed herself to feel happy for the first time in a long time. His lips fused with those of the king in a passionate kiss, loaded with so many feelings that both bodies ran through them in powerful electric shocks. Jareth's hands caressed Uma's thin waist desperately while her hands held on to his neck. Having to take time to breathe, they both separated, staring at each other.

“So, can you forgive me my queen?

"Hmm ..." Uma turned her eyes "Not yet. You were very rude just for not accepting that request to go to that horrendous witch's dance. I thought my opinion was worth it to you ”

“It is worth it, but my sense of duty forced me to please my subjects. But you know that is not why you got angry, but because you think she wants me to. And you're right ... That's why I loved you at that party, so we made it clear that this King already has his Queen ”

Uma opened her eyes wide and her cheeks grew hot.

"Still ... well, it's not enough"

"You want the ring, well you'll have the ring"

Jareth smiling gesturing to appear a ring when Uma took his hands and lowered them "I don't need a ring and less like that!" He shouted in shock as Jareth's funny and sensual smile remained on his face. He hugged her again as he kissed her lips again in a short kiss.

"I know, in addition the ring will come when you least expect it" the older man's face went to the brunette's shoulders, while he dedicated small burning kisses that climbed up to his clavicle and stopped on his neck, making the child shiver that he tried to contain his groans and gave him small blows to his chest to leave him, but the King obviously did not react to them. “What do you think if I do this in front of her while you introduce yourself? That way he will not lack doubts ”

"D-Do not you think it is improper for your hostess?" Replied the child while smiling at the mental scene.

“It could be, or maybe we give up one of his chambers… or he took you to ours and we started to-

"Jareth!" Uma shouted without being able to resist it. The king of the Goblins burst out laughing as he carried Uma and spun her over him. They had returned again. When he looked at Uma's dress, he raised a confused eyebrow, the brunette guessed the thought “Evie. she wanted to see each other according to the style of the bride ”

"I don't like it, let me do you a favor."

He held her again in the air and turned with her. Uma's dark dress changed to a beautiful aquamarine tulle dress with bright motifs of octopus tentacles waving on the skirt of her dress, with long sleeves and a beautiful crown of pearls and seashells. His collar had an additional owl pendant next to the conch and his hair fell like a curtain of beautiful defined green water curlers. It was comfortable and light.

“Do you want to go back? In the castle the goblins do not stop bellowing for your name ”

"Good, but the next day I must return to say goodbye" Jareth frowned "It will be to prevent me from being believed dead again"

“I don't see the need, but if you want that then I must also be present. That way they will know that you will be in good hands ”

"Or for Harry to know that I belong to you, did you think I didn't realize your eyes hammering in his head while dancing with him?"

Jareth held a sigh and clenched his hands, but then relaxed. Her sorceress had hit the spot as usual, but she would maintain all her self-control so as to avoid disgust at Uma. I can even allow the visit of his "friends" to the Underground, but that will be much later.

For now, he would enjoy his queen's return to his castle, and he would make it clear to both her and the others, that her heart has been occupied by a small, brave and sarcastic sea witch.

Love is strange, but it is always wonderful.

[rkyjun]

♫

♫ rk memes - song drabbles

now playing… 11:11 by taeyeon!

there were many memories that yeonjun had of woong that he always held dear to his heart. and though they only hurt now to even think about them, he still tries his best to keep them in a positive light.

the first date was one of his favorites. it happened about two weeks after yeonjun confessed to him. woong expressed his apologies for telling him that he had to think about it for a bit, but yeonjun was never upset with him at all. “no matter what happens, i’m still here for you,” he responds. when woong gave him the response he was secretly hoping for a week later, he jumped with glee once woong was not watching.

the reason why they were at an aquarium rather than the stereotypical restaurant or movie theater was because yeonjun tried his best to not make it seem like a date. when he told woong about it, he threw in random excuses that were all true, but were ultimately useless to the main reason. “i’m in marine bio and i want to take a closer look at the animals!”

“why in the world would you take marine biology if you hate anything related to science?”

“fishes!”

the true reality was that yeonjun wanted to visit and see the sea otters and penguins, but he thought woong would want to read the facts on the animals anyway. he probably even already knew it was going to be like a date, even though yeonjun tried his best to make it sound like it was just two buddies hanging out. they were obviously more than that, but yeonjun wasn’t really sure if he and woong were comfortable with the labels yet. he never had an actual conversation with him about it yet. they just both mutually agreed that they were gonna take it slow.

yeonjun at all wasn’t acting mature on the date. every single animal he laid his eyes on, he’d always look at them for a while with an amazed smile on his face as a silent “wow!” leaves his mouth, woong following right behind him and reading the information about them. however, he did notice woong looking a little longer at the otters. it’s understandable since they were probably the cutest thing there.

their final destination is the gift shop, only because yeonjun was interested in what could possibly be there. woong didn’t want anything. “it’s a waste of money,” he answers.

“suit yourself then,” he says before he walks to the stuffed animal section, looking around to find which one was the cutest and more fun-looking only to find a cute penguin puppet. he picks it up instantly and looks around for woong. when he finds him, he hurries over to him with the puppet in his hand. “look! it’s cute, right?”

woong tilts his head. “are you thinking of getting it?”

���of course i am, silly,” he says with a smile, putting his hand inside the puppet in order to make it move. “it’s super cute! plus it’s basically asking for me to take it home, right?” he looks at the puppet and makes it nod its head.

“you’re a baby,” he responds, making yeonjun have an idea of what to say next. it’s at this point where he wants to try something out, even though it might be a little risky and he wasn’t really sure how woong was going to react to it. but how would he know if he doesn’t try it?

“i’m your baby.” there’s a cheeky grin that follows after it and it’s enough to make woong react instantly.

“y-you!” he stutters, making yeonjun laugh.

“what? did i say something wrong?” he asks as he watches his face go red. he’s enjoying every single bit of it and he’s debating whether he should say that or not, knowing that woong would only get shyer over it.

he covers his face as if it’d hide anything from him, the only sign he sees of the reaction now is woong’s red ears. “just go buy the puppet.” his voice is muffled and there’s the “i’m so done” tone in it. it only boosts his confidence with this some more.

he obliges just because he knows he’ll tease him more later. “okay, i’ll go. but you better wait for me, cutie!” as he turns around to head to the cashier, he turns to look at the still-flustered woong who tries his best to avoid eye-contact with him. he has a feeling woong knew that he was having too much fun with this and that he wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.

…

the second memory yeonjun thought of fondly was the first kiss. it was after the third date, to be exact. he didn’t remember where it was because the only memory that stood out to him was when he walked woong to his doorstep. as he was about to turn and unlock the door with his keys, yeonjun says his name. “woong.”

when he looks back at him, yeonjun’s mind goes blank. he wasn’t sure why he even said his name to get his attention in the first place, but what he did know was that he couldn’t keep his eyes off of his lips. god, he felt nervous just even glancing at them with woong right there in front of him. when he looks up from there to woong’s eyes, he was slowly starting to know what he wanted to say.

“can i… kiss you?” he asks, his voice going soft towards the end because he felt shy about asking it. god, he felt like he was in high school again. he’s glad he’s not the only one getting embarrassed about it though because he notices woong getting flustered from the request, too. however, instead of saying anything, he decides to peck his lips and it surprises yeonjun enough that he puts his fingers over it.

it makes woong laugh and just hearing that made yeonjun want to melt. “i’ll see you later,” he says before he turns to face the door to unlock it and go inside.

“ah, yeah! i’ll see you later,” he says, walking away from the doorstep, almost tripping as a result of him walking backwards. when yeonjun notices the soft smile and the little wave, he returns it. as soon as he closes the door, yeonjun turns around so that he was walking normally. he throws a fist to the air and shouts a silent “yes!” as he makes his way to the car.

…

perhaps he was a person who was always desperate for physical contact, but the moment woong became comfortable with cuddling, yeonjun took his chances to make sure he would cuddle with him at any possible moment to do so. he was shy at first, but he eventually became comfortable with it since yeonjun was basically a giant teddy bear at this point.

yeonjun was on his phone and playing with woong’s hair when woong asks a question that makes him stop it altogether. “why do you like me?”

yeonjun frowns. “did i not tell you during my confession?”

“no, you just talked about how you’ve had ‘this feeling’ for a while and when you realized, you had to tell me because it was killing you,” he answers.

“ah.” it’s odd, but it makes sense for yeonjun to do that. “guess i should tell you then, huh?”

“that’s literally what i just asked.”

yeonjun smiles at the comment as he continues to play with woong’s hair, putting his phone to the side. “mm… well, you have pretty hair, you’re really good at kissing and you’re also really hot, especially when you’re focusing on something really hard-”

“jun,” his tone’s more serious, but it doesn’t scare yeonjun. it only makes him giggle.

“sorry, sorry. i’m not lying about that, though.” he takes a few seconds to think of how to say it because he already knows what he likes about him, but he wasn’t really sure how to phrase it. “my first impression of you was that your honesty was really cool, especially since i wasn’t completely with myself at the time. i found it really… admirable that you were able to unapologetically be yourself. and because of that, i think i was able to be more honest with you and like… genuinely be happy.”

“you’re also really dedicated and loyal, which is obviously a good thing. i think a lot of people would like you for that because i do,” he continues to ramble on. “and even though you always talk about how you hate kids, you’re very patient with them. you’re really cute when you’re around animals too.”

there’s a silence that follows after he says it, so yeonjun says something else to prevent it from being awkward. “you also have a cute smile. whenever i see you smile, i hear a choir singing.”

“that’s exaggerating,” woong points out, making yeonjun shrug. “you know, you don’t have to be happy all the time around other people.”

“i know,” he nods his head. “i’m trying to be more human nowadays, so i’m being more honest with my emotions and not forcing myself to be so 'happy’ all the time. but i don’t really have to fake that with you. you know when i’m happy and when i’m not.”

“good. you deserve to live an honest life.” yeonjun gives his head a smooch and it makes woong react immediately. “you ruined the moment.”

“i didn’t, but whatever you say.”

…

before the breakup, he’d always look back at those times as a way to make himself happy. they were what kept him through the day and it always compelled him to check on woong and make sure he was okay via text. but now, as he looks at them, his heart only aches because he wasn’t even sure if he could even face him without the urge to run away.

it’s been more than a month and though he was doing way better than he was before, it still felt like a chore to him to go out and live life as normal. he missed so many classes and the ones he didn’t miss, he made sure he wouldn’t have to face him so that he could be able to go through it. he put the penguin puppet in a closet where he was sure he would never ever see again.

but there’s still the pictures on his phone and the text history that he never bothered to delete because he would want to look at them to reminisce how happy he was. how happy they were. all this time, yeonjun thought he was doing something right because he was able to make woong comfortable with him. he was able to make him trust him. but when he broke it off in person, it made yeonjun question if he really was able to do all that. maybe, if he was more better, he could make woong love him too.

he knows that time is the only medicine to heartbreak, but it’s taking its sweet damn time with this one. on another lonely night in his room, he looks over to his clock to see that the time was 11:11. growing up, he was always told to make a wish at that certain time because there was a likely chance of it coming true. he always closed his eyes and held his hands together and wished for something that only a kid would wish for. “i wish for snow tomorrow so i don’t have to go to school!” “i wish for a big giant popcorn machine!” and so on.

but he’s grown up now. that was probably what hurt the most. he wasn’t able to live in the fantasy of everything going the way i want it to anymore and even though he was already aware of that, woong leaving him felt like another cruel reminder. he thought that life was just getting better, but here he was again at a low point he thought he had moved on from.

he doesn’t close his eyes and hold his hands over his heart, but he does wish something in this thoughts.

i wish that i can get over him. i wish that i can be able to be happy without him.

and though it’s just a myth, he’s still hoping that his wish will come true.

[fivescuddles-blog]

northsider (pt. four) | sweet pea

a/n: here's the next part! there's only gonna be one more part after this, so if y'all want that please leave feedback and tell me!

requested: "Northsider pt.4?" - @mariadiaaaaaa

characters: sweet pea x fem!reader, fangs fogarty, pop tate

word count: 1,808

summary: sweet pea confesses to the sweet northside girl, but things don't go particularly well...

warnings: swearing

part one, part two, part three, part five

~

You woke with your alarm blaring, causing you to simply groan and roll over in bed. You barely remembered getting home last night, let alone going to sleep. You reached over to your bedside table, picking up your phone and turning off the alarm that was assaulting your ears. You placed it back on the table and laid down, thinking over what had happened last night.

This brought a smile to your face.

You closed your eyes as you slumped against your pillow, picturing vividly Pea's adorable smile and his tall frame. His eyes that sparkled and reminded you of cosy hot choclate when he spoke to you, as well as the smooth, deep tone of his voice. The way he was so protective over you and his friends, and the way he refused to let anyone even think of hurting you.

You had to tell him.

You couldn't do it anymore. You couldn't stay quiet about the way you felt for him any longer. It hurt too much, and you believed that he deserved to know. He may not be happy about it, but you weren't happy keeping it from him. It may ruin your friendship, and if so, you'd be devastated. But jt was just much too painful to continue lying to him like this.

It hurt.

You had to do something. Today was a Saturday, kind of inconvenient considering if it was a school day you'd actually be able to see him. You checked the time quickly, seeing that it was only 9:00 am. He'd definitely be awake by now.

Debating on whether or not to call him, you heard your mother downstairs bustling around making breakfast. You called down to her that you'd probably be going out today, for "brunch" as you out it to her, and clicked on Pea's contact.

You waited for a moment, hearing it ring on the otherside. Just when you were about to give up there was a click on the otherside before Sweet Pea's deep voice filled your ears.

"Hey, Y/N/N, 'sup?" He answered hoarsely, clearly only just woken up. You felt bad now.

"Shit, did I wake you?" You asked, worried that he'd be annoyed.

A laugh rumbled through your ears as Sweet Pea chucked, shaking his head although he knew you couldn't see him. "Yes, but it doesn't matter, Y/N. Don't worry about it." He paused. "But, did you want something?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

You blushed at the question, now realising you'd have to go through with it. "I was just asking if you'd like to hang out later?" You wondered, playing with the sleeve of tour pyjama shirt. "We coudl, uh, go to Pop's for bru-"

There was an answer immediately. "Yes." Sweet Pea coughed for a second to cover up the eagerness in his voice. "I mean yeah, yeah that sounds good," he continued, a grin forming on his face as he clambered out of bed and began to look through his wardrobe, holding his phone between his ear and his shoulder. "So, what? 10:30?" He asked, pulling out a red flannel and a grey tank top from inside his wardrobe, laying them onto his bed.

A smile appeared on your face, excited to see him again. "Mhm, sounds perfect," you replied. "So, I'll see you then," you finished, waiting for him to say goodbye before ending the call.

Sweet Pea quickly began to get ready. He was gonna do it. He had to. This was the perfect chance to do what he'd been meaning to do last night but hadn't got the guts to. He quickly pulled on the flannel and tank top, as well as a pair of black ripped jeans. You know, the usual. While he hunted for his Serpent jacket, he rehearsed what he'd say in his head. Let's just say, it wasn't going very well.

He didn't know how to phrase it. Like, how would you confess your undying love for your best friend, hm? He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, partly due to stress but also partly to do with the fact that his bedhead was getting ridiculous.

He decided to call Fangs. Out of all his friends, he'd the one that would probably know what the best thing to do is in this situation.

He picked up straightaway. "Yo, bro, what's up?" He asked Sweet Pea, slight worry evident in his voice.

Sweet Pea sighed and regurgitated his problem apback to Fangs. There was a silence before Fangs spoke. "Damn," was all he said.

Sweet Pea stared at his phone incredulously. "Seriously dude? That's all you have to say?"

Fangs rolled his eyes at his moody friend. "Give a guy a second to think, damn," Fangs defended before sitting down on his sofa and thinking.

There was a pause.

"Dude, I think you should just get straight to the point, okay? Just say jt and get the hell out of there. If she likes you back, she'll say, okay? If not, she's not the type to hate you forever so I'm sure you'll be fine in that case, got it?"

Sweets thought about this for a second, stroking his chin while deep in thought. Eventually, he began nodding to himself and whispering "yeah... yeah, that could work,"

Fangs smirked, hearing his friend so caught up over this girl. Fangs had never seen Sweet Pea sct like this over someone, let alone a Northsider. Nobody had expected it, and nobody saw it coming. But Fangs was glad that his friend had found someone that he cared deeply about. It was refreshing to see when usually Pea was mean and intimidating to other people around him.

You made him into a nice and much more gentle person, and Fangs thanked you for that.

Fangs eventually hung ip, having given all the advice he could to Sweets, and was kind of getting tired of the love-sick boy ranting to him. Sweets had barely noticed that he'd hung up, much too prepccupied with talking about the beautiful glint jn your eye you got when you talked about something that you're passionate about.

Once he finally realized he had been hung up on, he checked the time.

10:20. Fuck.

He quickly pulled on his Serpent jacket and ran outside, patting down his pockets for his keys, phone, and wallet. Everything was there and in place. He threw one leg over his motorbike before starting it and zooming along the road, worried about being late for the mos important time he'd spend with you.

Meanwhile, you were already at Pop's deciding to arrive a little earlier than you usually would. Mostly to calm your nerves with a milkshake but also to just have more time to think and prsctice what you were going to say in your head. You bit your lip as you though about the boy simply staring at you with a blank look before just walking off, out of Pop's; out of your life.

It was terrifying.

Right now, you'd give anything in the world, to not be in love with this certain Serpent boy. But that was impossible. Who wasn't in love with him?

As Pop cam over to gather your empty milkshake glasses, you heard the roar of a motorbike pull up outside, setting the butterflies in your stomach into a flurry, hitting the walls lf your stomach and fluttering their tiny eings harshly. You peered out of the clear window, clesrly noticing Sweet Pea demounting his motorbike gracefully, hopping off and beginning to make his way jnside.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath and closed your eyes. When you heard the bells ring, you opened your eyes and smiled towars the door, Sweet Pea noticing you immediately as he walked in, making a beeline straught for you,

Your heart fluttered as he shot you that beautiful grin, sliding into the booth with you. "Hey, sorry am I late?" He asked, leaning on his hand with his elbow on the booth table. You shook your head, smiling.

"No, no, lf course not," you replied, more than aware of the obvious blush that was currently on your cheeks. "I'm sure you're um, wondering why I asked you here, right?"

He laughed lightly. "Was it not just to hang out because you had such a great time last time?" He asked jokingly, teasing slightly.

You rolled your eyes at him. "Oh yes, of course," you said sarcastically. "No, I just really need to tell you something, Sweets," you say, fidgeitng with your hands on the table. "Right... I-"

"What would you two kids want?" Pop asked, turning up out of nowhere just as you were just about to begin talking

Your eyes darted from Pea to Pop before smiling sweetly at Pop. "We'll have two choclate milkshakes and a tub of fries to share please," you said kindly, Pop nodding and walking off. While your back was turned, he sneakily waved at Pea and mouthed "good luck," which definitely made him feel a lot more confident.

Once your food came, Sweet Pea tok a deep breath. "Well, there's actually something I meed to tell you as well," Sweet Pea admitted, bringing the milkshake to his lips as he sat there, gazing into your eyes intensely. "Listen, Y/N/N... I, uh..." he trailed off, not exactly knowing how to word something lunch ss this. "Fuck... I'm really bas at things like this, ss you know," he chuckles to yimself, before shutting himself up. "Well, Y/N/N, first of all, I just want you to know how much I care about you, okay? In this-" He gestured round the room. "-this town, you are the one that I'd do anything for. Not Toni. Not Jughead. Not even Fangs. You," he whispered, a blush settling itself on his cheeks.

You said nothing. You were simply frozen in your spot. Never in your dreams did you think this moment would come.

But it wasn't to be celebrated.

Sweets could sense that he'd done something wrong, or st least he felt like it. The atmosphere was tense and awkward. "Shit..." he whispered to himself. "Shit!" He repeated, louder this time, cursing himself for being such an idiot. "I'm so stupid... I knew you wouldn't feel the same way, shit..." he buried his head in his hands before abruptly standing up while you stared at him, dumbfounded.

He took one last look at you, telling you a "sorry," before swiftly getting out of there, the bell on the door ringing as he walked outside.

You only realised what had actually just happened about ten minutes later. You were finally able to break your own trance, yet there was only one thought going through your mind currenlty.

He likes you.

Northsider tag list: @the-fifth-marauders-paws @oabf45 @peterhollandd @whatevergea @evansleftboobgrablaugh @yourwonderbelle @theatregeek217 @i-like-it-like-that-262 @soda610 @skeletalwolfcat @yourfanficbiish @chipster-21 21 @chennyetomlinson @ficbucket @wickedscorpio22 @bisexual-with-adhd (wouldn't let me tag some oops)

[geldris]

I’m not happy to be here today. I come to bare my sin open with you, reader, and the public world. 

Here it is. Happy April Fool’s Day to @bablyons, lover of Geldabeth, but above all, lover of Hawk Mama.

Find the fic (if that’s what we can call it) here. Or beneath the cut. Warning for... general attraction between a pure girl and a giant pig milf. I hate that I had to type that!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Geldabeth’s Adventures in Pugohtory! 

Back and forth, Elizabeth paced nervously within the confines of the stone room, darker and colder than her ethereal home. Even so, there was a feminine touch here: trinkets on a ornate white vanity, plush bedding, flickering candles and bouquets of lavender. Most feminine of all was the vampire princess, perfecting her already flawless complexion in a body length mirror. Every few seconds, she’d dab powder along the length of her neck, undoing and redoing her braid into a perfectly symmetrical bow. Elizabeth got anxious just watching her: while Gelda had already gone through at least ten ribbons that Elizabeth couldn’t tell apart in color (they were slightly different shades of red, Gelda insisted) the goddess had hardly cared to focus on her appearance of all things.

Elizabeth has remained politely silent as she observed the other girl getting ready. But as minutes slipped into the beginning of hours, she could no longer hold her anxious tongue. “Aren’t you afraid to go to Purgatory.”

Gelda narrows her eyes in the mirror at a particular unruly curl in her hair, restarting the style with ever-moving, delicate fingers. “No,” she responded.

A huff blew passed Elizabeth’s lips. “Aren’t you afraid it’ll be… well… hellish?” she relented, lacking better description.

“Once you’re familiar with the land, it’s not scary. Particularly if you’re an honored guest, as we are. You’re invited to counsel, Elizabeth. Nothing bad will happen to you,” Gelda reassured, kindness layered under her stern tone.

“Well, yes.” Elizabeth further relented, “But, they could be lying-”

“So what if they are? I’m familiar enough with purgatory’s ins and outs to escape if it came to that. Not that I’m expecting to have to.”

“Are you?”

“Of course,” Gelda chided lightly, “I’m betrothed to rule there. You should familiarize yourself with Purgatory as well: one day, you’ll rule the celestial realm. It’s best to know your enemy’s land as much as your own.”

“I don’t want any enemies!” Elizabeth corrected, voice cracking an octave in nervous desperation. The idea of someone seeing her as an enemy had her hairline flushed. She desired to be loved and to love all others in a world of peace and harmony. Even the demons, though her skin shook and prickled at the very term.

“You’ll never make everyone happy,” Gelda sighed, brushing her hands along the bottom of her gown as she finally seemed to finish perfecting herself. Elizabeth blushed at the words: it was as if the other girl was in her head. “It’s best,” Gelda continued, “to be prepared for the worst. If the clans are at peace for all of your reign, that would be lovely for you. But you must assume they won’t be.”

“Is that what your taught here?” Elizabeth notes sadly.

“Of course it is. The vampires are rarely friendly with any clan for an extensive amount of time. Hopefully that’ll change somewhat-- when I take the throne instead of my father-- but who knows.”

“Why wouldn’t they want to be friendly with you!” Elizabeth wistfully pondered, “You’re so kind and smart, you’ll make Edinburgh such a lovely place when you’re queen.”

Gelda’s cheeks dust pink under pale, and she keeps her eyes hyperfixated on the silked bottom of her gown for a few moments before seeming to compose herself. “I’m glad you think so.”

Elizabeth finally halts her nervous pacing, throwing herself backwards onto the large bed, feathery wings twitching beneath her. Her mind continues to wander, however, to Purgatory. A frightening place she’d heard about in scary stories and late night warnings. The celestial realm dared not to speak its name, fearing that doing so would bring misery and bad luck. She listed internally what she knew: monsters, demonic foot soldiers who were large and unintelligent and lusted for blood. How there were horrific curses put on unwanted visitors that slowed down time for millenia per minute. Places so hot they’d melt skin off bones, areas so frigid it froze the blood within veins. Endless agony, persisting madness--

“Your mind is wandering,” Gelda hummed, “We’re invited guests. Only those who are unwanted in the realm suffer its consequences.”

“How do you do that?!” Elizabeth huffed.

“Do what?”

“Read my mind like that!” Elizabeth sat up with a whine in her voice.

Gelda giggles, an action Elizabeth has never seen her do outside of these private moments. Gelda never bared emotion in public: it showed a lack of composure, she’d been told. But here, in the private of her room, she broke for Elizabeth. Elizabeth lips tug upwards at the thought. “Well,” Gelda hummed once again, “you’re quite obvious in your thoughts. All your expressions cross your face as you feel them.” She seemed to ponder the observation a bit longer, “you’d make quite a terrible liar, if you ever tried.” Gelda concluded, a tease in her voice.

Elizabeth agreed with that conclusion: she was not a liar. Such an idea rarely crossed her: the celestial realm didn’t have patience for sin, dishonesty being high on the list. Her mother didn’t have patience for sin. Through her childhood, she’d been bombarded with the ideals of moral superiority over the other races. Particularly the demons: everything her mother stated they were (dishonest, cruel, lustful, bloodthirsty), was everything Elizabeth was trained not to be.

“How will we get to the demon realm, anyways?” Elizabeth wondered out loud.

“Portals.” Gelda stated simply, “We have one in the throne room. Most of the clans that the demons are…” she hesitated, “allied with do.”

Elizabeth leaned forward, putting her chin in her hands. “I’m still so… nervous,” she confessed, “I’ve been told such horrors--”

“Such false horrors.” Gelda corrected.

“Either way. This is the one place I’ve been raised to… well… despise.”

“Elizabeth,” Gelda approached her, tenderness in her voice, gently tucking a strand of the Goddess’s silver hair behind her ear, “What were you first raised to think about me?”

Elizabeth instantly cringed. She understood the other girl’s point but, well… her childhood stories of the vampires, while lesser than the demons, were just as unpleasant. She recalled the tales from her mother and her tutors: that they were monstrous, blood-sucking leeches who shifted form in the night to become terrible, demonic creatures. While some of Gelda’s clan made Elizabeth wary, they were hardly all the terrifying beings from her childhood nightmares.

“Even so,” Elizabeth persisted, “What if Purgatory does have some terrifying, giant monsters?”

“Then we kill them.” Gelda stated, monotone and deadpan.

Elizabeth sharply inhaled at the very idea. Of course, she knew defending herself would lead to such a thing. But the idea of that act, done by her, stated so bluntly out loud.

“Or, rather,” Gelda quickly backtracked, eyebrows furrowing as she watched the other girl, “I will, and you will protect yourself.”

What a tempting offer. Yet, Elizabeth feels an ache of something in her chest, that makes her wish she could be more of use. More confident in her ability to be… powerful. But she had long accepted that she didn’t thrive in battle as others did. She was a healer, a supporter. If it came to killing or showing mercy, she’d never stop doing the latter.

“Don’t be afraid,” Gelda whispered, breaking the girl from her thoughts, “It’s time to go.”

-~-~-

The portal is dark and foreboding, leaving Elizabeth immediately with cool claminess on her skin, coating her palms, alongside an accelerating heart. Gelda’s hand is in her, reassuringly patient and yet persistent in pulling her forward. It’s what Elizabeth needed: the support combined with the push to go on.

The darkness of the portal swallowing her being feels as if she’s jumping into frigid water. Elizabeth swears ice shoots through her veins, her claminess turing to shivering goosebumps that freeze over and oh no she’s dying, the rumors were true, the cold is this intense.

Then she’s panting on the ground, on her knees in the darkest soil she’s seen, indigo and black and violet hued. It’s night, she noted, disoriented.

Gelda’s voice broke through her trance: “Easy enough, right?”

Elizabeth minds her surroundings. Its real, and I’m here within it. Breaking her situation down to the bare essentials felt best. If she took a breath, let the air (not frigid now, thank goodness) expand her lungs and the ground feel solid beneath her, she can focus. And if she can think in this moment, a non terrorizing moment, clearly, then she could take one step at a time and get through this evening. Yes! She cheered herself on internally, I’m okay. This is okay. Everything’s okay, and if it isn’t, Gelda is here. She repeats the simple phrases over and over until they become unwaveringly confident within her mind, spreading warmth in her body, allowing her tight muscle to unlock.

Gelda offered her a hand, gentle and welcoming, a soft smile tugging at her lips. How grateful Elizabeth is for her presence! She couldn’t have come alone, and yet she doesn’t have many friends in the other clans. Slowly, she attempted to meet the leaders of the fairies, the giants, even the human kingdoms. But Gelda is her first true friend outside of the celestial realm, and she’s overwhelmed in the moment by how grateful she is for her presence not only now, but in her life overall.

She reached for the hand, the color of faded moonlight in the darkness.

As she attempted to stand, a tremor shook the dark ground beneath her. An earthquake? Were these the natural disasters, plentiful as she was told they’d be?

The tremor passed and began again. No, it’s not an earthquake: there’s a rhythm to it. Both the women immediately turned to face the source.

Elizabeth wasn’t prepared. In fact, neither was Gelda.

There in front of them, shattering the earth of purgatory, breaking open Hell itself, trembling the unsteady ground beneath them was…. A pig. A large pig. A very large, very green pig.

This was it. These were the monstrous demons she’d been told about, the ones that haunted her nightmares. She swore she could hear Gelda calling her name, but it sounded so far away. The world was spinning, and all she could focus on was the giant pig in front of her.

And yet… she felt no fear. Her body was frozen to its spot, dizzy and disoriented, her senses failing her. But no, she was not afraid. She felt… She felt the need to approach the pig. Not to do it-- her-- harm but something… more.

The world around her was darkness, and this pig was a blinding light. She walked forward subconsciously, forgetting her purpose in being here. All she knew is in this moment, she wanted to be more like this pig. And in the moment she wished for that outlandish dream, her dainty fingers caressed her face and found it to be a reality. For on her face’s center was no longer her small, delicate nose: no, she had the snout her heart had so suddenly longed for. But while her body shifted to become her desired form, her heart still yearned. It pushed her forward, forward. The light was no longer blinding, but warm and inviting.

The giant pig and she met eyes, exchanging a glance that could’ve lasted an eternity. She felt them connect on a level no one had reached within her before. Slowly, the ginormous mammal opened its large mouth. Oh, Elizabeth thought to herself, in complete acceptance, she’s surely going to eat me now. And yet, she was at peace.

This pig… was all she needed in life. She let the desire envelope her completely, until all that surrounded her was light, love, and the feel of her own snout beneath her hands.

-~-~-

The ground is solid beneath Elizabeth once again. She woke with a start to the newly familiar land: purple hues, dark sands. This was purgatory, surely. She’d made it here. But the pig…

“You’re awake,” Gelda stated. Elizabeth met her eyes, seeing the girl cross legged beside her.

Elizabeth gives herself a moment to blink the wariness from her eyes. “What-”

“I let you rest for a bit, since we had some time to spare. You passed out nearly as soon as you saw the giant pig.”

“I… I what?!” Elizabeth shouted, now very awake, high pitched and shrill. She sat up, blood rushing to her head and causing dark dots to coat her vision.

“I suppose you were afraid, it is a rather… large monster.” Gelda shrugged, unbothered.

“Where did it go?!” Elizabeth nails bit into the inside of her palms, head waving from side to side as even from the ground she prepared for another beast’s approach.

“I used my Inferno to scare it off… or perhaps just bother it. I truly don’t know how powerful it was, but the sight of the explosion made it leave for now.”

Elizabeth let out a sigh of relief, before finally remembering the more terrifying aspects of her dream. “My… my nose?!”

“Your… nose?”

“It’s back to normal!” Elizabeth shed tears in her relief.

Gelda, meanwhile, observed her as if she’d gained two more heads. “It… has always been normal? Has it not?”

Elizabeth, though, was too thrilled at the turn of events. In moments her wings had her upright, fluttering in joy as she launched herself into the vampire’s arms, burying herself in happy relief. Gelda took seconds to react, shock and warmth rushing in her veins. Slowly, her arms came reassuringly around the Goddess, trying to give comfort with slow strokes of her back. Though Elizabeth was too buried in her jubilation to note, Gelda smiled.

Meanwhile, in the distance echoed a low, far-off “Pugoh”. A squeal so ominous and foreboding, it resonated through Elizabeth’s soul and laid claim to it. An impact so profound one almost knows that somewhere beyond Purgatory, far away in time and space, a young lesbian (El)izabeth of the future may find it… oddly sexy.

Epilogue: That young lesbian was Elizabeth’s 34583th reincarnation. Lovingly called El. And she was dating Gelda’s reincarnation named Brooke. And they were WLW, only separated by Elizabeth’s millenia long enduring sexual attraction of Hawk Mama. That’s the moral of the story. Happy Aries Season, I am now retiring from writing. It's been nice while it lasted. El I’m in love with you please remarry me through Discord Bot. El please--

[randombtsprincessa]

The Man in the Pink Cape || 2

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Jin (Non Idol) x Reader (2nd POV)

Chapter:  01

Warnings: Mentions of Vigilantism, Bullying, Harrassment 

It had been a week…A week that had passed much better than the last dreadful agonizing ones behind it. You had picked up a decent amount of Hangul, you actively put effort to find out and remember routes and from the smile Bora had thrown your way while handing out the new test papers you were getting better in Korean Literature. You even made new friends Eunji, a slender tall girl who talked like she had a radio lodged in her throat and Hanna, the wiser and quieter one of your unlikely trio. Hanna was like Duri with your ability to balance a social life, which was probably what attracted you to her, also, maybe the fact that get a few drinks in her and she actually turned wild. You were just feeling good.

You were also keeping a keen eye out for Jin on the campus these days. The change in that one week was too noticeable for you to avoid the realization that it had something to do with Jin.

You were pretty sure you would’ve seen him around. You could not miss someone who looked like Jin did. That level of beauty…there was no way anyone on campus could miss him. Of course, you were too proud of actually circulating his name around campus and announcing your intentions of finding him. That was not only going to hurt whatever ‘cute and gets lost easily’ image he had made up of you and it would also hurt your new found social standing.

So you shut up and just watched around.

Of course, that didn’t stop you telling Eunji and Hanna about it. They were your best friends after all.

Today was no different. You leaned against Eunji’s locker while she sorted out her books for the day as Hanna kept mumbling her new ideas for Philosophy class.

“Oh my god, Han, you know, Philosophy is not the class you’re majoring in, right?” Eunji finally said.

“The grade matters. I’d say you buck up too, unless you want to redo the year while me and Y/N move up to second year.

“Bite me,” was Eunji’s reply.

“You wish, Jiji,” Han cooed and Eunji turned to you with an outraged look before pausing.

“Are you even listening to us?” she asked.

“Of course I am,” You straightened, turning to look at the two Korean girls. “No, you weren’t. You were looking for that boy again.” Hanna smirked.

“No, I wasn’t.” You said, irritated.

“Really…? What were we talking about then?” Eunji asked, raising a perfectly penciled eyebrow.

You scrunched my nose at them. “Go to hell, both of you.” You said, walking away from them as they giggled, catching up to you easily.

“We’re not saying that you shouldn’t do it but if you’re so set on finding this guy maybe asking about will help.” Hanna offered. “So everyone can say that I’m interested in a guy? Use that to mock me…the girl who likes a boy she can’t even find,” you rolled your eyes.

“So, you like him?” Eunji asked.

“That was just a phrase. I can’t like a boy after one meeting.” You said curtly.

“Well, you know what they say about love at first sight. Imagine how romantic it would be if he finds you in turn, confessing he’s been looking for you and you have been doing it in coincidentally the same times so you were always opposite to each other, not meeting until a fateful day.” Eunji said.

Hanna and you stopped to look at her in mild disgust and amusement.

She looked at you two then blanked, “What?” she asked.

Hanna just laughed. “I don’t think our Y/N is the type to fall in love at first sight. Although your theory of opposite coincident could be possible; it happens.”

Eunji snorted at that. “Right there, my friend that was a joke; as a science major, I know that it is physically impossible for two people to look for each other and always miss one another. Either,” she turned to you, a soft smile on her face, “he’s not looking for you, or he doesn’t want to be found.” She said.

“Why wouldn’t he want to be found?” you asked confused.

“Maybe he’s the Vigilante, the school is worried about.” Eunji smirked, looping her arms through mine and Hanna and walking us off.

The ‘Vigilante’ Eunji had mentioned was a phenomenon that had gripped the college campus in the ‘better’ week that you’d been having. Students would claim to see a figure in black zip across campus and ‘disrupt them’. What they omitted out was that the Vigilante disrupted illegal things or just plain wrong things. Drug distribution, bullying, ragging, harassing female students, those kinds of things…

Normally a vigilante would be a serious thing to consider since we had campus security…but what really turned the Vigilante thing a joke was that all the offenders slash mock victims claimed they saw a pink cape behind the guy. So, a black suited person in a pink cape…? Yeah, not all that threatening…

This didn’t change the fact that; this Vigilante really made the campus safer. Of course Campus security took all the credit but hey you can’t be a vigilante and claim credit too.

College crime on our campus had really gone down in that week.

Eunji just might be right about meeting him on a fateful day…

You just wished that that fateful day had been more romantic than that.

Eunji had dragged you and Hanna to a frat house party thrown by the extremely popular Suga and crew. You knew Suga’s real name was probably Yoongi or something but you didn’t know why he changed it to Suga, maybe because of how blond he was…artificial of course.

“Let’s get a few drinks in Hanna and then we can go dance, ok?” Eunji whispered to you and you reluctantly nodded watching her slink off towards the bar.

You were dressed in one of Eunji’s dresses, black, tight on the body and flared around the skirt with lots of tulle underneath. Hanna was in her usual skirt and blouse only she’d changed her shoes to knee high gladiators that seemed to clash well with her simple outfit. Eunji herself of course was resplendent in a blinding dress of silver.

“Don’t let me drink too much. I have a paper to present tomorrow.” Hanna begged you as Eunji returned with four shots on a tray, two of which she gave Hanna. “Eunji…” You warned as she almost threw the drinks down Hanna’s throat, making her splutter as you downed yours, feeling the familiar and comforting burn down your own throat. Man, had you missed that…

“Dance” Eunji shrieked, grabbing you and Hanna’s hand and pulling you to the dance floor. Somewhere along the way she dropped your hand and you slinked back to the couch, careful to smooth out the voluminous tulle down. You wanted to dance, yes, but you had never been to this particular frat house. Your previous bout of shyness and awkwardness had kept you away from most of the fraternities and sororities on campus but Eunji was very popular and she snagged all the invites she could to keep you and Hanna out for every weekend.

After a while, you got up and headed towards the bar to request another cocktail to aid your fading haze.

Even as you sipped it you spied your hosts, Suga and his friends circled around with some girls, arms dangerously looped as they laughed at a couple things. You recognized some of them from your advanced science classes, Namjoon and Taehyung…they were verifiable geniuses. What were they doing here? Were they actually members of this fraternity?

Looked like it, from the way Taehyung was perched on Suga’s chair, whispering in a girl’s ear.

A guy got up from a chair and stretched, his green sweater riding up to give you a nice view of a strong waist and you could immediately see his friends tease him about it. He must’ve cursed at them because they laughed harder and you couldn’t help smile slightly too before you realized that you were staring at seven hot but still unattainable boys.

You would’ve looked away too when the boy in the green sweater turned around, giving you a clear view of his face.

You almost choked on your drink, quickly putting it on the table to turn your chair back to the bar counter.

It was Jin.

Jin.

The boy from the library…

He was one of the seven hot and unattainable boys you’d been eyeing…

Wow, there went your week.

You were always imagining how it would be if you met him again, a more confident and knowledgeable version of yourself but now that you were actually in his vicinity you couldn’t help but feel all your persona melt away.

You were shy again. Shy and lost…you hated it.

You had to get away from here.

You pulled out your phone to quickly type out a text to both Eunji and Hanna that you were heading home and pushed yourself off the stool, making your way towards the door.

Maybe it was your imagination but it seemed like someone called your name just as you shut the door behind you. It was colder outside, both in temperature and in atmosphere and you lightly cursed yourself for not brining a jacket but you’d relied on leaving with Eunji in her car. Well, that wasn’t an option anymore and you weren’t going back again.

You took off your heels and began walking along the grass towards your own apartment.

By the time you had reached midway, it was very late and very cold. You couldn’t keep walking on the cold, wet grass and you had to stop multiple times to contain your shivers. When you stopped again near the small creek that went by the back of the campus, you wished you hadn’t.

A small whimper made you freeze in your tracks and you waited till you heard it again to confirm it for what it was. Turning around, you headed back towards the park to see a small first year on his knees, his eyes blindfolded and his nose plugged up, a pipe attached to his lips as three older students jeered and mocked him, pumping alcohol in the pipe.

“Be a man.” They kept laughing.

You looked at the boy. Even with his face mostly covered you recognized from seeing him around but you couldn’t place his name. You had two choices, you could be a coward and run away, leave him to his fate and report it but you didn’t have any names to give. Or you could tell yourself that bullies were cowards anyway and you could face them.

You let the alcohol in your stomach decide.

“Hey! Leave him alone!” You screamed. Your voice was a high pitched squeak in the night and you had to stop the urge to slam your palms against your mouth.

The guys turned to look at you, all of them bigger than they had looked before. You gulped but the damage had already been done.

“Check it out, must be one of Min’s party girls.” “Yeah, Suga always had nice tastes.” Two of them said, pushing the third’s shoulder. He must be the leader. He grinned lasciviously at you.

“What say, sweetheart? You want to join the party?” he said, showing off crooked teeth.

You fought back a shudder. “No thanks, I’d rather choke myself to death.” You spat out. “Well, we can help you choke too,” one of the guys said and the other two laughed, advancing on me when a large shadow passed over behind us.

The guys froze at once.

“Dude, did you just,” Guy 1 asked. “Hell, it must be that Pink Cape guy Doro told us about.” The leader spat out before fixing you with a blood shot gaze. “Grab her, let’s get out of here.” He said and the guy nearest you shot out a hand for you. You were about to fall back when a voice broke out.

“I think the lady refused your party invitation.”

The guys cursed and turned around to see a guy completely in black and it wasn’t a joke. You could clearly see a baby pink cape fluttering behind him. It was the Vigilante.

“Yeah, well, we’ll make it worth her while,” the leader barked and took a few steps towards the black suited guy.

There was blur or fists and knees and the leader was on the ground, groaning. The other two looked at each other then took off, leaving the first grader, you, the leader and the masked vigilante in the park. You immediately rushed to the boy, pulling off the blindfold and nose plugs and undoing the tape holding the pipe to his mouth.

“You should be more careful around here,”

You turned to see the masked guy looking at you but in the dark it was too hard to make out his features. He bent down, grabbing hold of the leader’s hair and yanking it up, revealing a bloody nose and mouth. “Give us your name.” he snarled and the boy had to spit out blood three times before saying ‘Minho’.

“Y/N, is that you?” You turned quickly to the boy and smiled, nodding, too embarrassed to say that you didn’t remember his name.

“Who…I…who’s that?” he said, his voice still broken from the torture he’d suffered.

You quickly turned to the vigilante to see him backing into the shadows. “Wait, don’t you have a name?” You called out.

There was a pause and you wondered if he’d already left when his cool, hard voice echoed back, this time with a touch of amusement.

“Damhongsaeg,”

[magic-and-moonlit-wings]

Chapter 20: Saving Face

Becoming the Mask

Text that is both bolded and italicized indicates trollish.

"How're you holding up, Jim?" Toby opened up his half-made sandwich to put the vegetables on it.

Lunches by Chef Jimbo that required a final, in-cafeteria step to assemble weren't that odd, but usually they were more complicated than cold cuts and veggie slices. This was Jim's 'day off' lunch, for days when something was stressing him out to the point where he didn't even feel like cooking, or didn't have the time.

"Not great," Jim admitted. "… Did you talk to Draal this morning?"

"I've met that guy, like, twice. Plus, don't trolls sleep during the day?"

"We had a fight."

Toby gasped. "But – you don't look smushed."

"More of a 'hurt feelings' fight." Jim's hands tightened on his sandwich. He put it down without taking a bite. "He said I was unworthy of the Amulet. Then I said it still picked me, so I was obviously more worthy than him. And, considering his dad was the Trollhunter before me and Draal really wanted the job …"

"Ouch. Like in The Book Of Life, when Manolo told Joaquin he'd never be as great a hero as his father. What the heck set all that off?"

Jim grimaced and shook his head. Toby could respect that.

"Got a plan for apologizing?"

Jim hated having anyone mad at him. The very few times he and Toby fought, Jim was usually first to try and make amends.

"Wait for tonight, so he's had some time to cool down, then say sorry and see if he's ready to hear that. If he's not … I dunno. Go into the Void and ask his dad's ghost for advice, maybe."

"If you need to avoid him for a bit, you can crash with me and Chompsky."

Jim half-smiled and started eating, which meant he wasn't tensed up with nerves anymore. Toby patted himself on the back.

Barbara parked, neatened her hair in the rear view mirror, and sighed over her steering wheel. She wanted to go home, wolf down some food, take a hot, soothing shower, and collapse into bed. Instead, she'd agreed to meet her son's teacher for lunch.

"For Jim," she reminded her reflection. Her child needed his remaining parent to be involved in his life.

There were a few tables set up outside the café. Seated at one of them was a man in a brown jacket and blue turtleneck. She didn't notice him until he stood when she walked past.

"Dr Lake?" Barbara jumped a bit.

"Yes–? Oh." She recognized his accent from the phone. He probably guessed by her teal scrubs. "You must be Mr Strickler." She put on a smile and held out her hand to shake. He kissed it instead, making her blush.

"Indeed. Lovely to meet you at last." He pulled out the chair opposite him and she sat. It was so nice to be off her feet.

A waiter appeared, or perhaps Mr Strickler had signalled them now that she'd arrived, and asked if they wanted drinks to start. Barbara ordered a coffee. Mr Strickler asked for something she assumed was a blend of tea.

"I'll start by repeating that Jim's not in trouble." He folded his hands on the table. "I've noticed he occasionally has trouble staying awake, or that his focus seems to drift, snapping back to attention when called upon but wandering again soon after."

"That sounds like he's tired. He's always up early … I'll talk to him about when he's going to bed." Barbara had heard, and seen evidence at the hospital, that a lot of teenagers were sleep-deprived. With the way Jim tried to take care of her …

"He also has a habit of, shall we say, overstretching himself," said Mr Strickler, following the same train of thought as Barbara. "Taking on more than his share of responsibilities."

The waiter returned with their drinks. Barbara hadn't even looked at the menu's lunch options. She took a gulp of coffee and ordered the first thing she spotted with 'sandwich' in the description; a 'croque monsieur'. Mr Strickler ordered the same thing.

Maybe it was the hunger or the exhaustion talking but it actually sounded more appetizing when he said it.

"With all respect," continued Mr Strickler, once the waiter left, "Jim's behaviour is not uncommon among children whose parents have demanding careers; they seek to ease the pressure on their parents by being helpful –"

Barbara nodded; that certainly sounded like Jim.

"– Or they see the sheer number responsibilities their parents hold, and conclude this is a normal level of activity for anyone. Or, in some cases, are encouraged to be perfect because their reputation reflects back on their family, but I don't believe that's the case with Jim."

Barbara fidgeted with a napkin. "I've never meant to put him under pressure … But I have, ah, encouraged some of his habits."

Like the cooking, or cleaning the house, or doing yard work, or helping her budget the utilities …

She'd viewed it as practical, teaching Jim things like how to operate a washing machine or handle money so he'd know how to do it when he was living on his own, but, was she interfering with his academic education, letting him take on – praising him for taking on – so many responsibilities at home?

Mr Strickler touched her hand, lightly, briefly, bringing her back to the present.

"Jim is a kind boy," he said. "He wants to help people. But it's impossible to help everyone, and Jim," the teacher steepled his fingers and contemplated his words, "Jim is young enough to not necessarily recognize his limits."

Over lunch – croque monsieur turned out to be a ham and cheese sandwich fried in white sauce – they discussed ways to encourage Jim to cut back without making it sound like his helpfulness was being rejected or like he was being criticized for not being able to do enough.

They didn't come to any solid conclusions. Barbara could encourage Jim to sleep or ease up on his chores; both adults could remind Jim of the importance of taking care of himself; but Barbara didn't want to ground him from extracurriculars or socialization to force him to rest. It hadn't gotten to that point, and hopefully it never would.

"I should be getting back to the school," said Mr Strickler, checking his watch. He uncapped the pen he'd toyed with off and on during their conversation and scribbled onto a sticky note from one of his jacket's inside pockets. "My phone, Dr Lake."

"Please, call me Barbara."

She took the phone number and he kissed her hand again.

"Barbara." Her name sounded lovely with his accent. "Walter. Do call if there's anything you'd like to discuss."

He summoned the waiter and paid their cheque and then he was gone, and Barbara was left feeling unsure if she'd just had an unorthodox parent-teacher conference or an even more unorthodox first date.

She went home and had the relaxing shower and nap she'd been craving.

Draal was conflicted. He was unaccustomed to that feeling. He did not care for it.

He wanted to believe he had done the right thing, not killing the Changeling immediately upon discovery.

He wanted to believe the Amulet of Merlin knew what it was doing when it chose … one of them … to be the Trollhunter.

He wanted to believe Jim's oath to turn against Gunmar was genuine, and not yet another act.

There was a pipe in the centre of the basement, and if Draal stood by it, he could hear nearly everything from the main story of the house. He'd heard Jim quietly threatening Nomura over Barbara's safety last night.

He should've been listening at the pipe when Nomura first came to the house; he might've learned more about what the Changelings were up to –

Draal's failings aside; the exchange he had eavesdropped on suggested Jim had been truthful about Barbara still being human instead of another Changeling collaborator, and that he felt a certain level of protectiveness for her, matching his explanation of why he'd let Draal move in.

As Blinky and AAARRRGGHH had each independently pointed out, Jim could have simply, easily, killed Draal that night, instead of agreeing to expose himself as a Changeling.

Or Jim could have stayed out of the fight, rather than exposing himself as the Trollhunter to protect Nomura.

If the helmet materialized with a faceplate, Draal still wouldn't know what Jim really was.

They hadn't spoken on the return journey from Trollmarket. Jim hadn't come downstairs before leaving the house that morning, either. Draal had gone upstairs midmorning to scavenge some food. A pile of cans waited for him in the blue box in the kitchen.

He brought them back to his living space and sat behind the furnace, on the blanket Jim had given him when he moved in, now somewhat ragged after a few encounters with Draal's spikes. He slowly snacked his way through cans and coal, and stared at the little Heartstone piece.

Why had Jim given him that? It wasn't like Draal had been expecting one. The Changeling could've kept it for himself. Jim had, by his own confession, been working for Gunmar up until last night, and that was assuming he really had changed sides.

That was what made Changelings dangerous, Draal supposed. They thought differently than normal trolls. You never knew what they were thinking. And even when you knew that, you still found yourself wanting to trust them.

Draal really hoped he had done the right thing.

Barbara woke up when Jim got home from school.

"Hey, Mom." He hugged her hello. Jim had never outgrown how affectionate he'd been as a small boy. Barbara hoped he never decided he was 'too old' to hug his mother. "How was your day?"

"I had lunch with your history teacher."

Jim's shoulders tensed, just slightly, under her hands – typical teenaged surprise and alarm over unforewarned parent-teacher interaction? Or, wait, with how Barbara phrased it, did Jim think she meant she'd gone on a date? Well, she was uncertain herself, but never mind that now.

"He's worried you aren't getting enough sleep."

"Oh, that." He relaxed in her arms. "Yeah, he's asked me if I'm sleeping okay. My eyes just bag up really easily, I guess."

Barbara held Jim out a short ways from her, examining him for signs of fatigue. Noticeable bags under his eyes, yes, he'd started getting those when he was twelve, but his pediatrician hadn't been concerned when Barbara mentioned it. Jim wasn't swaying on his feet, and his eyes were focused, and he wasn't jittery like he'd been using caffeine or sugar to compensate for exhaustion.

"Jim … if you ever need a break. A mental health day? One less chore on the roster? I get it, okay? You're a kid. A very responsible, considerate kid, but still a kid, and you need time to be a kid. And I'm your mom. It's my job to take care of you. So if you need anything, you know you can tell me, right?"

"Do what's good for you, or you're no good to anybody," Jim recited.

Mr Strickler – Walter – had shared the same quote at lunch when he asked Barbara when she'd last had time off, and gently suggested taking some might demonstrate to Jim that it was okay to prioritize oneself once in a while. Adolescents, whatever they may claim of their near-adulthood and independence, do look to actual adults for guidance, approval, and example.

"I know, Mom," said Jim. "I don't feel like I need anything right now, but I'll give it some thought and get back to you, okay? We could … revisit the topic this weekend?"

What books were on those packed shelves of his? Sometimes Jim talked like he was an office manager or something. He hadn't picked it up from her.

It was a good idea, though, so Barbara agreed.

"If you and Mr S met for lunch, then the three-bean salad's been marinating all day, not just for the morning. We can have that for dinner. Maybe a light soup and some rolls. I think we still have some frozen from last time."

"Mr Strickler seems very nice," said Barbara. "And he really likes you. I've never seen a teacher take such an interest before."

Jim, now rummaging in the freezer, made a vague affirmative noise.

"Is he single?"

Jim bumped his head on the ice cube tray.

"Um, I think so? His office has a bunch of curios but no family photos." Which implied the lack of them wasn't because he didn't care to personalize his workspace.

Jim had no confirmation Stricklander was on board with the plan yet, but Barbara spending time with Stricklander and getting him attached to her seemed to be off to a good start. That would be a good backup to keep her alive if Gunmar won anyway and Jim was exposed as a traitor.

Once his mother was asleep, he went downstairs to update Draal before going to Trollmarket.

"I've been working on our cover story. If any of the humans ask, we had a sparring match last night. I lost. You got mad and accused me of slacking off in training and said I was unworthy of the Amulet. I got mad and said I was still more worthy than you since it picked me. You took that as an insult to your father, and I apologized for that but we're both still upset; that's why things are awkward between us now."

"You didn't tell them what you really are?"

"Are you kidding me? I'm in enough trouble that Nomura knows you know; I'd be dead meat if it got out Blinky and AAARRRGGHH know, and the humans'd be dead meat with me if they knew, too."

"Hello, Trollhunter."

"… Blinky?"

"I know you speak this language. Did I actually teach you anything in our lessons?" Blinky asked bitterly.

"Blinky …" Jim scuffed his foot on the floor. "I'm sorry I … lied to you, about how much I knew. But you really did teach me a lot. I knew … keywords, before; every Changeling does, in case we overhear something about Killahead or Gunmar. I knew directions and distances and quantities. I understood … many words I heard you say. But the syntax and grammar and etiquette and culture were all new to me. That first thing you taught me, that greeting? It is my honour to meet you. I had never heard that before. I was barely literate. I … I faked how much I needed to learn, but, yes, I did learn from you."

"You don't actually know our verb for 'to deceive', do you? I'm fairly certain that comes under the heading of irony."

"Um, only as a noun. It's deception, right?"

Blinky rummaged in his pockets and got out a notebook. "Deception. Deceiving. To deceive. It's a regular verb, following the same rules as to see. Now, I have a number of questions about my brother I'd like you to answer."

"Okay. Deception, deceiving, to deceive, same rules as to see," Jim muttered. "I don't exactly know Dictatious well, but we've met."

"Describe him. I want to be sure we really are talking about the same troll."

"Okay. He mostly looks like you, except green instead of blue, nose is dark grey instead of orange, and … his horns point more up than back?"

Jim made an upward-sweeping gesture from his own head.

"Hair sticks up, too. It's got a couple of white streaks that might not've been there when you last saw him. And … I don't know if you know who Mark Hamill is, but he's a human actor and I've seen some of his movies and they sound alike. Like, uncannily alike."

Blinky slumped and sighed into his list of questions. "That's him. Next question. When and how and why did he join Gunmar?!"

Jim recoiled from the shouted inquiry.

"Survival? Maybe? I wasn't there. I'm not old enough to remember anything before Killahead closed. But either he was a double-agent already who got stuck in the Darklands with us, or he was too close and got pulled in by accident and offered the Underlord his services in order to not get killed."

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The Book Of Life is a movie that canonically exists in the world of this show. Mary is giving a report on it during her Spanish Comprehension exam in the episode that introduces Gnome Chompsky. Guillermo del Toro was involved in both that movie and this show.

HannaVictoria from AO3 jokingly suggested Jim mention to Blinky that Dictatious sounds like Mark Hamill, his voice actor. I went for it.

In English, 'see' is an irregular verb. But trollish grammar is different, so I decided it would be a regular verb (one that conjugates based on consistent rules) in their language.