#this is x reader adjacent so we'll call it that

[darksigns-exe]

Thought of the Day: Pleasure Dom Nick

Note: I don’t publish a lot of headcanons, but I have to get this thing out of my head. I’m not super used to this format so please excuse if this feels a little stilted. Second person or x Reader is not something I write a lot of but I want to experiment with different forms so here we are.

NSFW BELOW THE CUT MINORS DNI

He has you positioned in front of him, keeping your legs parted with his own. Your bare body pressed up against his clothed chest. One hand spread out across your belly, while the fingers of the other are moving across your clit. The touch is too light, too slow, but he knows as much as you do that you like it when he draws it out like this.

Nick likes to hear your whines and whimpers, he likes to feel you twitch against him. His mouth is right next to your ear, whispering the most daunting filth against your skin. It should be tormenting you, but he's wrapping it up with the sweetest praise, telling you how good you are for him, how well you're doing.

And just when you think that he'll let you finish, his fingers move away. You can feel them press into the inside of your thighs. There's a promise of more, but you know that he won't give you want you need until he thinks that it's been long enough.

When finally decides that you've lasted long enough, he let'd you ride it out against his hand. Lips firmly attached to the side of your neck, alternating between the sweetest praise and those kisses that set your nerves on fire.

He holds you afterwards. Pulls you tightly against him, while you catch your breath again. Fingers combing through your hair, drifting up the length of your thigh and side.

It's all in balance with him. As much as he likes to see you whimper and whine for him, he also likes the softness that comes after it. He likes being a little cruel, just as much as he likes taking care of you.

If it doesn't serve you and your pleasure, he doesn't like it.

[writersblockedx]

A Rekindled Kind of Love

Pairing - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary - Spencer and Y/n hadn't talked since the Summer before college and then he sees her name as the only survivor in their latest serial killer case. Warning - violence, drinking Words - 3.6K

A/n - It's be a while! I've had a surge of inspiration lately since becoming a little obsessed with character ai lol and thought to write this one into a little one-shot.

masterlist

Spencer was lying if he ever called any day at the BAU normal. Between serial killers, sadists, and everything else in between, the boy had a blurred definition of normal. So, he expected anything - or so he thought. When he entered the meeting room that morning, he hadn't expected the name of Y/N Y/L/N to pop up.

"We've got three victims and, weirdly, one survivor." Garcia started to explain, clicking through the victim's dead bodies, the woman squirming at just a glance of the photos. "Whoever this sicko is, he's going after journalists. His latest victim, Y/n Y/l/n, was actually able to get away before he had a chance to kill her."

Spencer stopped. His gaze snapped up as Garcia clicked once more and he caught sight of the girl he once knew. Only now was she older, and her expression was stern. The unsub had left her features tainted, early bruises and several cuts littering over her. "She's pretty distraught says doctors, but she's alive and well."

He couldn't stop staring at her, memories of high school, of that last summer, of their blissfully ignorant friendship fueling his feelings. This was not normal. None of what he felt was normal - not for him away. "He stabs them?" Emily observed, all of the team had yet to clock onto the haze Spencer had suddenly found himself in.

Garcia hummed, "Yep, as many times as it takes before they...you know...die."

"He's aggressive, he's got no remorse for these victims," JJ spoke, glancing between her file at the screen in front of her.

"Not only are they all journalists, but they're female journalists too." Rossi added. "There's got to be some reason for that too."

Hotch nodded, "Either way, we should take Y/n into our care. She's the first to get away, I doubt he's happy about that-"

The shaggy-haired boy couldn't seem to take it. The way Y/n had gotten herself mixed in like she was any other victim, like she wasn't once the most important person in Spencer's life. "Excuse me," The boy stood abruptly, not giving any reasoning to the team before he practically ran out, gasping for breath.

The team were left with nothing. Their expressions moulding into ones of confusion, and puzzlement, "What's up with him?" Morgan was the first to question. But it was only met with the same uncertain expressions and a shrug from Hotch.

Morgan took it upon himself to stand, following Spencer out into the adjacent hallway where Spencer was panic pacing. A hand swooped through his hair as his thoughts raced. "Hey, kid, slow down," Morgan soothed. He hadn't realised the arrival of Derek until he spoke. Spencer turned, swallowing the lump which had since grown in his throat. "The hells going on with you?"

He took a breath. He evened his lungs and took a moment before confiding, "I- erm- I know her, Y/n Y/l/n, the survivor." He explained and that was enough for Morgan to understand. "Well, I suppose I knew her, we lost contact when we went to college, but we had been friends."

Morgan gazed back into the meeting room, "Reid, it's okay. She's okay, you know? She survived."

His head shook, "It doesn't matter. You heard Hotch, she's still a target." She wasn't safe and that fact was only nagging at Spencer.

"Alright, alright, how about I talk to Hotch? We'll go to the hospital, you make sure she's okay yourself?" Reid had barely agreed before Morgan walked back into that meeting room.

Of course, he wanted to make sure she was okay. But that also meant seeing her, after all these years. Spencer didn't know what had changed - if anything had. And he didn't know which option was scarier. Either way, he soon found himself at the hospital, waiting at the reception desk as a doctor went to find her.

His feet were tapping, his nerves obvious to Morgan. "Reid, calm down, she's gonna be alright," He said, but no words from Morgan or a doctor was going to help. He needed to see her.

"It's not just that I'm worried about." What if everything had changed? What if nothing had? What if-

He turned and found his eyes on her. She still had that same look. That same smile, the same soft gaze, the same ease about her that Spencer craved. But this was the very moment he feared.

She wandered up to him, quickening her pace as much as she was able to considering her state. "Spencer," She said his name like a sigh of relief. Before he realised it, her arms were wrapped around his neck, melting into his touch as if no time had passed.

"Hi," He breathed into her ear; she was safe. The hug didn't last long enough. How could it? They had 12 years of missed hugs.

"I can't believe you're here, the doctor said a profiler and then said it was Doctor Reid and I-" She trailed on, "I don't know why I was so surprised. Of course, you made it big."

Spencer shrugged, "I wouldn't call this big." The boy became sheepish, almost flushed and Derek Morgan had certainly taken notice. "I'm sorry I stopped calling and I should have-"

"Oh, Spence, save it," She chuckled lightly, "I could have picked up that phone just as well as you had. I just wish we could have met under different circumstances."

He nodded, "Yeah, well about that," Spencer turned to bring Derek into the conversation, "This is Agent Morgan, he's erm gonna help."

Morgan sent his usual cheeky smirk as he did with any pretty lady, "It's good to meet you, sweetheart. Glad to hear you're feeling better too."

Spencer hadn't expected anything less from the man. "Look, I don't know if the doctor explained it to you, but we're under the belief that this unsub may still be targeting you."

"Unsub?" She reiterated.

"The killer that went after you." Morgan answered, "Unknown subject, unsub for short."

"We erm- we have to take you in, make sure you're safe kind of thing," Spencer explained, fidgeting with his fingers as she glanced between them and the girl in front of her.

Her pupils grew worrisome, "You think I'm still in danger?"

Spencer hated that word. Even the thought of Y/n in danger made his spine shiver. "You're the first to get away, we erm- we don't think he'll be very happy about it. He could lash out, many unsubs, new unsubs especially, a victim getting away could be like a double stressor, he could be on a rampage, he could be doing nothing but think about getting to you." He realised he was rambling and his words were only worrying the girl more, "Sorry, I just, I want to make sure you're safe."

But Y/n understood, "It's alright, Spence. I'll go grab my things."

With that, a rush filled the girl as she turned her back on the two agents, wandering back into the hospital room she had come from. Spencer's eyes hadn't left from where her figure was once standing. This was personal for him - even if he hadn't seen the girl for years now. "She's not just someone from high school, is she?" Morgan realised as he observed Spencer.

He turned to him as if he had just left the trail of thoughts in his mind, "Hm?" He turned back to look at Morgan.

His response had only made Morgan smile, "Y/n, she seems more to you than that."

"It was..." The boy thought back to it, to that Summer, he didn't know how else to describe it, what they had, her. "Complicated."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

12 Years Prior, Las Vegas

Y/n always had something Spener didn't: Popularity. Well, in a way. Spencer was cast away from many of his peers. A social reject. While, Y/n was a social butterfly of sorts. She took to a crowd with ease. The type of girl that could make friends with anyone.

The boy had certainly hit the jackpot when he was assigned to tutor her. Over the course of several sessions, they had bonded over literature, future college plans and, surprisingly, Y/n's distaste to certain 'jocks' - as the social hierarchy liked to describe them as.

She was the only reason Spencer turned up to the end of year house party. Crowds weren't his thing, drinking neither. But she...she was worth it.

"Spencer!" The girl gleamed as he wandered into the house. 

He didn't belong at all. His shoulders were stiff, his glasses at the edge of his nose. But, despite such, Y/n still took him into a longing hug. "H- Hi." He greeted, his eyes flickering all over the place. From the demolished kitchen to the living room where drunken teens were dancing on top of couches and coffee tables.

Her brow raised, "Come on, we'll get you a drink." Her hand slipped into his, bringing the boy back to his attention: her. "You do drink right?" She checked as she guided him towards said demolished kitchen.

"Erm, not a heavy drinker but, sure I can have one."

"You sure?" She spoke ever so softly, "You know you don't have to."

"Just one." He offered her a smile.

She grasped a few bottles: vodka, rum, tequila. "Pick your poison."

Spencer had simply shrugged, a chuckle at the tip of his tongue, "I'll have whatever you're having."

"Rum it is!"

She poured the two the same drink - almost half liquor, half mixer. Spencer coughed when he swallowed, causing the girl to giggle, "Too much?"

But Spencer simply shook his head, "Just perfect," He almost joked as he leaned onto the kitchen counter next to the girl, "I almost didn't come," He admitted.

"I don't blame you," He gazed down at her answer, his expression urging her to add some context. "Ashley James puked up after two drinks, Kacy and Liam broke up, now Liam's making out with Polly. It's just...a mess." Her eyes rolled. "But then again, what was I expecting?"

Spencer smiled at her. She was good at knowing like everything. While he was filled with facts and statistics, Y/n knew everything about everyone. Within one look, she knew your secrets. Maybe that's why she was so good with people. "We can go somewhere else if you want?" He suggested.

His question brought along an idea for the girl. With her free hand, she took Spencer's and led him out into the back garden. Whoever lived here was almost rich. Well, rich enough for a pool and a pretty big outdoor area. "Come on," Y/n urged him as she pulled the boy towards the edge of the pool.

She slipped her shoes off, sitting down and letting her legs dangle into the fresh water. Spencer watched her for a moment before joining her, the two sipping on their drinks. "Better?" She asked him.

He nodded, "Much."

"At least we've got Summer now, no more being forced to see them assholes." She joked.

Spencer's brows narrowed in thought, "You mean the assholes that you were friends with until you met me?"

"Well you got me there, Spence." She shrugged, "Social survival, that's what I call it. It's not as if there won't be similar people in college. I mean, fucking sororities, semi-pro football leagues, frats?"

"I'm sure you'll fit in amazingly at Princeton." His smile seemed to falter at his own words.

She gazed at the boy who seemed captivated by the slowly swaying water below them, "We'll still call you know, text, just cause we're in different places, doesn't mean anything, Spencer." Y/n attempted to comfort him.

"That's what everyone says but, I don't know." He shook his head, ignoring a thought.

But she noticed it; she noticed everything, "But what?"

He huffed and stared over at her, his eyes pooling in admiration. "You're one of the best things to have happened to me in a long time you know," He offered her a smile, "I couldn't even imagine losing you."

The girl bit her lip. Something was on her mind and Spencer had noticed. He too noticed everything about her. But he didn't ask. Partly, because he didn't have the chance to. Her eyes flickered to his lips. Then to his eyes. And before Spencer could realise, she had leant in, her lips at his. Without even realising, she had changed everything for the boy.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Spencer accompanied the woman towards a private, interview room. He would offer support and comfort but at the same time, he had a job to do. A part of that was questioning. She was the only person to know this unsub. As difficult as it would be for her, he would have to ask them questions.

"Hey," Emily spoke as he entered the room, two coffees in hand: one for Spencer and one for Y/n. "Coffee orders are here," She smiled as she placed them at the table between the two. "I'm Emily, Reid says you're an old friend."

Her eyes flickered to the man before she shook Emily's hand, "Something like that yeah."

"Well, we're here if you need anything, alright?" She said, "You're in good hands here, especially with our Doctor Reid."

With that, Emily left to join the rest of the team who were busy compiling a profile. Which left her and Spencer. This was the part he wasn't looking forward to. "I've erm, I've got to ask you some questions, it'll help us understand this unsub, help us find him." He explained. When she nodded, the boy continued, "I'm going to ask you to close your eyes, alright? And then I'm just going to go through the night you were attacked. Is that okay?"

She swallowed the lump which had grown in her throat, "Yeah," She muttered.

Y/n followed the instructions and let her eyelids close before Spencer started the exercise, "Okay, just go back to that night. You were on 9th Street, correct?"

"Yes."

"It was getting late, but it was summer, think about the air, was it still warm? What sort of things could hear, anything?"

She thought back to it. Y/n had just finished her work week, she was walking home from the Subway. "There's a group of girls on the other side of the road, they're giggling. Drunk, I assume."

"That's good, that's really good." Spencer praised, "Then when did you realise something was off?"

Her brows furrowed and she thought about it, the pit in her stomach growing, "Someone- someone was yelling. A man. I thought he was like bible bashing so I wasn't paying much attention to what he was saying."

"Think." Spencer jumped in, "Listen to him, pick any words, any phrases that stick out to you."

And she did so. Her mind ran through the memory, "Something, something about an agenda, the- the snowflake agenda? It's ruining America it's-" She cut herself off as the memory reached the worst part. "That's when he grabbed me." Her voice quickened, her breaths soon becoming uneven. "He had a knife to my neck- he pulled me to an ally. I- Spencer."

Her hand reached out over the table instinctively, "It's okay," He too had become panicked just seeing her's. "I'm here, it's over, you can open your eyes."

When she finally did, she took one breath. A sigh of relief that she was okay. And then, a single tear dropped from her eyeline. Spencer couldn't take it. He stood and she followed suit, "Come here," He spoke before taking her into a tight hug. "You're safe, I promise." 

She pulled away just slightly but never dared to break touch, "The only reason I got away was because I had pepper spray in my bag," She explained. 

Spencer thought on that and then an idea came to mind. "Come with me," The boy took a hold of her hand, guiding the girl through the bullpen towards the meeting room where the rest of the team had been.

The round table was scattered with files and papers. Garcia typed away at her laptop while the rest were debriefing. At the entrance of the pair, they glanced up. 

Before they could ask any questions, Spencer started rambling, never daring to let go of Y/n's hand. "The unsub was protesting on the street, he's some kind of right-wing enthusiast. He was going on about the left-wing 'agenda', about how it's ruining America." He explained. "Not only that, but Y/n used pepper spray on him."

Like that, they had something, "He would have had to go to the hospital?" JJ thought.

"Or at least bought some kind of medical supplies."

"Yeah, saline wipes or there's a nasal spray that helps the pain." Spencer went on to explain.

From there, Hotch turned to Garcia, "Cross check avid right-wing protesters in the D.C. areas, men with low criminal offences, things like hate crime. Then look at anyone whose been admitted for treatment of pepper spray or has bought any medical supplies to treat it."

Like that, the aggressive typing ensued. The team were all waiting, Y/n still at Spencer's side, anxious for the name of her attacker to be revealed. "I've got it, Tony Jones."

When Hotch stood from his chair, the rest of the team started to follow. "Send us the address, Garcia."

"Already done it, Sir."

Each of the team members stood, one by one walking passed Y/n. That was apart from Garcia who was still glued to her laptop, sending the address to the rest of the team. Spencer was about to turn when Y/n reached for the boy's hand once again. Her eyes filled with nothing but worry. "Do you have to go?"

Her question had made his heart ache. His eyes flickered to Garcia who was already glancing at the two, "I- I probably should but, but Garcia will stay with you." He offered.

Y/n looked back at the extravagant woman who was smiling, "Of course, I've got loads of things I can show you in my office!" She gleamed.

Y/n returned the smile before turning back to Spencer, "You'll be careful, right?"

The boy nodded, "Of course," He replied before taking her in his arms once again. But this time, when he pulled away ever so slightly, it was to place a gentle kiss to her forehead.

And like that, a soft smile, a goodbye, was passed between the two before Spencer turned away to join the rest of the team. She stared out the door of the conference room until Spencer slipped away. From there, she turned, a weak smile given to Garcia as she came to join her at the round table.

The other woman had watched the interaction and, while she wasn't a profiler, she wasn't oblivious to the world of loving. "He really cares about you, doesn't he?" She asked. Though, Garcia already knew the answer.

"I care about him just as much," Even after all this time, a piece of her heart still belonged to Spencer Reid - it always would.

"You're not just an old friend, are you?"

Y/n swallowed, glimmers of that high school Summer filling her brain. "It was, complicated." She described. "We erm, only really had a Summer as..." How could she describe it? "More than friends, I guess. And then we were both shipped off to college. And I mean, we lost contact. As a lot of people do." And 12 years later here she was.

Garcia offered her a smile, "You still love him, don't you?"

The girl giggled but gave a nod, "I don't think I ever stopped."

"Well, if my time with Doctor Reid has taught me anything, the way he is with you, I mean it's like no other." Her hand brushed at her shoulder gently, "I don't think your feeling is one-sided."

That would stick in her head for the next hour. While Spencer and the rest of the team were arresting Tony Jones, Garcia was giving the girl a tour of her office. Everything wonderful and weird. And while she tried her best to pay attention, her mind kept being dragged over to Spencer. If he was safe, if he was coming back...if, once again, everything had changed.

She knew one thing: she would make sure they didn't lose contact this time around.

When the boy finally returned, he practically rushed through the BAU to find her. She was at Garcia's side as they exited her office, "Y/n," He called.

The girl's head snapped to him, her pace quickening as she came to reach him, "Did you?"

He nodded, "He's at the station, don't worry." He assured.

"Oh, good, yeah," She spoke before a sigh fell from her lips. "So, I mean, what happens now? Do I just go home?" The idea of such, while stupid to think so, was almost disappointing. Going home meant she wasn't in Spencer's company any longer. And that wasn't something she wasn't to lose just yet.

But Spencer's reaction was a similar one, "I can walk you home, if you want of course."

Her smile grew, "I'd like that."

"I'll just erm," He gestured to his FBI vest, "I'll only be a second."

And so she watched him leave for barely a minute, coming back in his shirt. He took her hand, led her into the lift and pressed for the ground floor. A moment of silence. A moment of thought. One of which was urgring Y/n on.

She glanced over at the boy, "You know I always think everything happens for a reason." Her nerves suddenly flooded her body as she realised what she was about to admit, "And as much as getting jumped was not fun, I'm glad it brought me back to you, Spencer."

Y/n turned to face him, barely any space between them, "I missed you."

"I missed you too, Spence."

With that, Y/n made the leap. She closed that gap, their lips meeting every so soft, ever so longing. Like they had both been waiting for this moment for 12 years. And when they pulled away, her hands cupping his face and his placed at her waist, it was like they were 18 again. "Promise we'll keep in contact now?" He almost joked.

And she chuckled, "Promise."

[taesanluv3r]

youthful rebellion

han taesan x reader

reader and secret bf!taesan rebel against their strict parents :3 inspired by the dangerous mv! stealing a car, driving without a license, making-out (sort of, it's implied) gets pretty silly at the end...as expected from a fic by me LMAO lowercase intended. pls excuse any grammatical mistakes or spelling errors! enjoyyyy

wc: 2,279

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"wanna do something crazy?"

han taesan and yn ln. two chaotic teens tied by the ropes of their suburban neighbourhood. born to be living and loving their youth- staying out till sunrise with their best-friends, going to parties and getting shit-faced- but forced to be home by their early curfews set by their strictly rule-driven parents. the list of dos and don'ts go beyond anyone's field of vision.

DO: study hard, get good grades, eat healthy foods and sleep early. DON'T: date, sleep around, drink, get home after 8pm...and definitely DO NOT even think about stealing your parents' car.

"depends what 'crazy' is..." yn replies to the boy on the other line of the phone-call. it was almost midnight, all the lights in the neighbourhood had been turned off and everyone was asleep. well, everyone except the two teenagers who, unlike everyone else, refused to retire into their beds. "like...sneak out and steal a car kind of crazy?" taesan's rebellious suggestion shocks her, a silent gasp escaping her mouth. she can hear him laugh, "what? too risky?"

yn moves from her bed to sit on her desk in front of her window. the window that was directly adjacent to his own one. "open your curtain, i wanna see you" she whispers, just in case her parents weren't as deaf as she thought. "mhm" taesan responds quickly before his face comes into view from the house across hers.

they share a smile, stupidly waving at each other. yn blushes when the boy blows her a flying kiss- something both their parents would yell at them for...but mom and dad never had to know, they could go about their secret relationship the way they have been for the past few months since they started dating. behind their backs, staying on the phone all night, and communicating from the window. they don't mind it in the slightest- i mean, how else were they supposed to do it? if they were out together in the day, it'd only be a matter of time before their strict parents figured it out and forbid them from ever seeing each other again. the pair won't lie though, sometimes they wish they could just...rebel.

"what's a pretty girl like you thinking so hard about right now, hm?'' yn could see his mouth move, but the sound only came from out her phone's speaker. "um...nothing" but taesan doesn't believe her for a second. "you can't seriously be considering the sneaking out thing i was talking about...can you?" she doesn't even need to answer. in fact, the fact that she didn't was proof alone that she was indeed thinking about it. the girl looks up to see her boyfriend, only to find him shuffling around his bedroom. her eyebrows furrowed, "what're you doing?" it's silent for a second, but she can see him throw on his sweater.

"come meet me by my garage, we'll take my dad's car"

the girl can't believe her ears, too stunned that she had accidentally zoned out for a moment, only to regain consciousness when she caught a glimpse of the boy waving his hand around at her from his window. "hello? darling, if you're not up for it we don't have-" he was cut off, "no! meet you in 5?" his toothy grin shined brightly, her own one just as pearly white.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

it didn't take long for yn to successfully sneak out of her house. she had taken out the battery on the automatic lock about a year ago without her parents knowing, and as it turned out they were much deeper sleepers than she had thought. if she had known sneaking out were this easy, she probably would've done it way before this.

according to plan, the girl quietly walks over to the neighbouring home. she waits by the opened garage, the lights were still off and there was no sign of her boyfriend. 'hope he didn't get caught...' just as the thought crossed her mind, the squeak of a door, followed by soft footsteps enter her ears- and before long, appears her tall and pale, handsome boyfriend.

"hey" he says excitedly, though his voice is hushed and his breathing was heavy. "hi" she mumbles when he engulfs her into his arms. "sorry i took so long, my dad kept the keys on his bed-side table and i had to tip-toe around him...think his snores were loud enough to drown out the noise though" he laughs coming to the end of the sentence, as does she. "c'mon, we better go before it's too late"

as quiet as humanly possible, the pair made it into the car without creating a ruckus. "damn...okay" yn sighs, letting out the breath she didn't even know she was holding. "right...so..." it was silent all of a sudden, the teens staring blankly at the dashboard in front of them. taesan in the driver's seat just as clueless as yn in the passenger's. "so like...are you gonna drive or...?" the girl asks, her gaze moving from the inert wheel to the boy who had his hands wrapped around it. "um...well, i don't really have a license...but...it shouldn't be that hard right?"

normally, the girl would freak out and maybe start a fight but, for whatever reason, all she could bring herself to do right now was...laugh. he did as well, their hysterics muted by the walls of the car, hiding them from the ears of the neighbourhood. "i believe in you" yn says, pressing a motivational kiss to his cheek. taesan finds it ticklish, scrunching his nose at the feeling. "alright..." he begins, sticking in the key to start the car. the engine makes a roaring sound that the pair swears the whole world could probably hear. it gets their hearts racing, the adrenaline rush finally kicking in. "you ready?" he asks, looking for one last bit of reassurance from his girlfriend and his foot over the pedal as he adjusts his posture. she nods at him,

"let's get outta here"

with that, the boy begins to drive, silently making their way out of the garage and onto the road, headed out to the main street. he gets the hang of the steering wheel rather quickly, all their doubts and worries flying straight out the window as they accelerated out of their sleepy neighbourhood.

"oh my god...can't believe we did that" taesan says, looking back at the houses that got smaller and smaller behind them. yn laughs, "eyes on the road, babe" she reminds him, beginning to snoop through the glove compartment for something to put into the CD slot of the radio. "mj...more mj...nirvana...and...'dangerous youth'? what's that?" his girlfriend's question grabs taesan's attention as the car came to a halt at a red-light. "let me see" he says, grabbing the unfamiliar disc from her. "looks like one of my dad's old mixtapes...looks older than me!" the boy hands the thing back over to the girl, moving the car from parking mode as the light turned green.

"should we put it on?"

it takes a minute for the radio to read the disc, a slight buzzing sound entering their ears at it spun within the machine. it's silent for a moment, the orange-ish light of the music-player blinking the words: track 01. a sense of familiarity hit their spines as the first beat of the song played, followed by infamous lyrics that just about anyone could recognize.

'we don't need no education...'

"oh, pink floyd!" as expected from the boy's music-loving father, the band's hit song of the late 70s, Another Brick in the Wall, Part 2. the rebellious teens bounced their heads to an anthem that fit all too well with their actions right now, the boy's fingers tapping against the wheel and the girl playing an imaginary set of drums while they sang along to the tune.

"hey teacher! leave them kids alone!"

the pair drove for about an hour, not a clue where they were even headed. "there's a cliff around the edge of the street, wanna stop there?" taesan asked, turning to look at yn who was staring out the window. "mhm, we could watch the sunrise"

before long they had arrived by the cliff. the car parked beside the road, and the two of them sitting right beside each other on a small patch of grass. it was well into one o' clock in the morning at that point, the skies still dark and the stars bright as ever, decorating the space around the moon.

"the moon is so pretty, isn't it?" yn says, suddenly moved by the atmosphere. it was quiet and cold outside, the only other sound apart from the pair that stayed awake, was the wispy winds against the crispy leaves. "and it'll never lose it's beauty" her eyes turn away from the shining orb of light and over to his, who had been looking at her the whole time. their breaths are heavy, the beating of their hearts loud enough for the both of them to hear. "yn...can i kiss you?" his simple inquiry of consent was enough to melt all her insides. she looks at him with eyes that shined just as the moon did.

"please"

taesan wasted no time in pulling her close. her hands in his hair as his own travelled down to her waist. their lips found place in each other's just as quickly, leaving no room for air as their tongues danced a pas de deux within the caves of their mouths. yn tumbles forward, pushing his body down onto the grass, never separating from each other, like they've been starved for years before this.

"yn..." he says, his mouth free to speak when she moves over to his neck. the girl stops for a moment, sitting up straight to look him in the eyes again. the boy's mouth opens to continue, "i love you" she smiles, pulling him close again. "i..." she breathes heavily, kissing him more, "love..." their noses hit each other, and the thin hairs on their bodies create fiction; a ticklish feeling rumbling up in her belly.

"...love you too"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"you think they've noticed we're gone by now?" yn asks, fingers swirling around atop his abdomen, her head on his chest as they laid on the grass. "probably" taesan replies, yawning softly as his hands run through his girlfriend's hair. "think they'll never let us see each other again?" this time he giggles, the vibrations of which go straight to the side of her face. "totally"

yn pouts as she sits up, looking down at the smiling boy with a look of sadness. "aw, baby..." he teases, grabbing her hand to pull her back down towards him. "if they do that to us we'll just have to sneak out again, right?" she sighs, "i guess so...'' the couple falls silent as the pale sky turns orange. the bright sun began to rise, signaling the pair that just as the traces of last night started to disappear, so must their youthful rebellion.

"c'mon" the boy says, helping the girl up. the teens entered the car, a deja-vu sort of feeling coursing through their veins as memories of their midnight adventures flashed over their brains. yn yawns this time, reaching forward to grab her phone from the compartment below the radio. "ah!" she winces when the brightness of the screen shocks her sensitive eyes, taesan laughs at her before reaching for his own phone.

"yikes...thirty missed calls and a hundred and two messages..." she sighs, scrolling through the thousands of notifications from her parents last night. the boy beside her scoffs, "only thirty?" he asked exaggeratedly, earning a worried look in return. "try sixty missed calls and two hundred texts...!"

the couple shares a fit of laughter as they came up with about a million different scenarios for their parents' reaction to them returning home. "no, no! my mom would definitely cry!" she'd say, and he'd shake his head. "not as badly as my dad would!"

han taesan and yn ln quieted down, staring out the main window of the vehicle. "think we'll be grounded?" he asked, as if it weren't obvious. "probably" she replied. the pair turned to face each other, identical smiles placed against their lips. the girl leaned in, pulling him by the collar of his sweater to kiss him- and they continued to kiss for another fifteen or so minutes, until they both desperately needed to breathe again. she giggled, as did he, looking at each other happily as they spoke the same two words.

"worth it"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"you know, i thought when they said 'you two will pay for this!' they meant something a lot worse..." yn said, squeezing out the excess soap from her sponge. "yeah...thought they were gonna cage us in our rooms for the rest of our lives and board up our windows or something...but this? this isn't bad at all!" taesan follows, wiping a bit of sweat that dripped down his face. "in fact..." he says, moving to wrap his arms around the girl. "i quite like washing cars with you"

she giggles at his words, closing her eyes when he presses a kiss to her nose. "i quite like it too..." this time they kissed on the lips, the sponges dropped onto the floor, not at all phased by the foam-y soap that got all over their clothes.

"HEY! I SAID CLEAN THE CAR NOT KISS! THAT'S RIGHT, GET BACK TO WORK!" the boy's dad yells from the front door of their home, shocking the teens for a second before they broke out into laughter.

"tsk...those blasted kids"

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

AHHH dangerous is so so good and i love tht mv so so much :3!!! also i actually asked my dad on advice for song choices for tht part when they discover ts' dad's mixtape LMAOO he suggested pink floyd's song and then added tht if it were HIM stealing a car w his gf as a teen it'd be 21+ love songs 😭😭 dad PLS! anyways hope u enjoyed!! reblogs n feedback r so appreciated <3 love, kona.

[lecsainz]

if you can make one with Travis Kelce and reader where they have a baby and reader goes into labor with the baby

ITS TIME

˒ ⌕ masterlist . . .

parings: travis kelce x wife!reader

summary: that one where you're pregnant and it's time to meet your little one.

an: I went with Travis and Y/N having a five-year-old kid. I know you asked for a baby, but I wasn't sure how to do it and I just loved how the story evolved, so I didn't have the heart to change it. Hope you like it.

type: fluff ಇ

It was a typical morning, much like many others during your pregnancy. You got up and watched your husband sleeping as you searched for your slippers to head downstairs and start making breakfast for the family, despite Travis's wishes.

Travis didn't want you to exert yourself during the pregnancy – it was the same during Aiden's and now during Ivy's.

You were beating some eggs when you heard the little steps of Aiden coming down the stairs.

"Mommy! Is today the day?" the little one asked excitedly, hugging your leg. Ever since Aiden overheard your conversation with Donna that Ivy would arrive by the end of December, he became super protective of you.

"Not yet," you said with a smile, bending down to pick up the 5-year-old.

"She's taking too long," he pouted, running his hand over your belly. "Daddy promised she'd come faster." That made you laugh, earning a scowl from your son.

"I think it's time for Daddy to wake up, don't you think?" You innocently asked Aiden.

And you watched the little one run upstairs to wake up his father.

While you were setting the coffee table, you were surprised by a pair of muscular arms hugging you from behind and a kiss on your neck from your husband.

"Good morning, dear," Travis said with a huge smile.

"Good morning, Mr. Kelce." You turned and gave him a brief kiss on the lips, receiving an "Eww" from Aiden, making both of you laugh.

The rest of the day flew by; Travis had training with the Chiefs, so you spent the afternoon playing with Aiden, who bombarded you with questions about his sister.

As soon as the clock struck six, you decided it was time to prepare dinner, but the moment you got up from the carpet where you were building Legos with Aiden, you felt liquid running down your leg.

"Mommy? Did you pee?" Aiden looked curious.

And before you could respond, you heard the garage gate opening by Travis. "Honey, I'm home!" He shouted from the garage.

"I think it's time," you told him as he walked through the kitchen door.

"Time for what?" He looked at you, clearly not understanding.

"Mommy peed," Aiden said excitedly as if sharing a secret.

"OH MY GOD, IT'S TIME!" Travis realized and started panicking. "SHOULD I CALL YOUR PARENTS? OR MINE? I NEED TO TAKE YOU TO THE HOSPITAL!" Travis began frantically searching for the phone.

You found his hysteria amusing. "Travis, your phone is in your pocket," you approached and touched his shoulder. "Everything will be fine. We've done this once, and we'll manage again," you reassured calmly.

"Oh, dear, how are you so calm?" He asked, laughing.

"I'll get Ivy's bag," you said as you headed to the adjacent office. "Call your parents to stay with Aiden at the hospital!" You yelled to Travis.

"Can I bring my Legos?" Aiden asked, holding the plastic pieces, and when Travis called his mom. "Of course, buddy."

"Is Ivy coming?" Aiden ran after you to ask. "I think she already senses that you're getting ready to be an official big brother, sweetheart," you replied to him. "Ivy is coming!" Aiden ran off excitedly.

"Are we ready?" Travis asked as he helped you to the car, despite the small delay caused by your disagreement – him wanting to carry you to the car and you preferring to walk to dilate faster. "More than ever," you said, giving your husband a kiss.

[literaryobsession]

bond | katsuki bakugo x reader

summary: katsuki has a close bond with your mom!

warning: not proofread

You knew that Bakugo and your mother had some sort of a bond you never really expected them to have.

You've always thought that Bakugo would never care about approval from your mother, expecting him to act like his gruff old self around the woman but you were proven wrong by his nervousness when they first met. Around the public, he is nonchalant and professional (as much as the explosive Dynamight can get) but around Pro Hero Wave (your legendary Pro Hero mom!), he turns almost into this sweetheart who seems to be kinder than the man you married.

"We'll visit this weekend." You heard your new husband say as you entered the kitchen. You had just woken up, stretching your limbs and still very sleepy, and found your bedside empty. It wasn't unusual though, Bakugo wakes up earlier than you do and makes breakfast every single day.

Today isn't any different.

Bakugo looked like he just finished cooking since he was plating up the waffles on two separate plates - one for you and the other for him. He was busy talking on the phone too and didn't even notice you come in.

Who is he talking to? You wondered as you crept past him and took a bottle of water from the fridge. The sound alerted Bakugo, he turned around and smiled at you. That was when you wordlessly inquired who was on the phone.

"Yeah, she's awake. Mmm, I'll tell her." Bakugo grinned and chuckled after a few minutes, "She doesn't have much of a choice."

His reaction made you curious. Katsuki Bakugo doesn't even talk like that to Kirishima. Why was he acting so weirdly?

Once the call ended, Bakugo took the two plates and answered that questioning look on your face, "Your mom."

"My mom called you?"

"I called her." Bakugo left you in disbelief and took the plates to your dining room. You quickly followed him and he continued, "She sent a message earlier today that she'll be back home this weekend so I decided we'll go visit. You live in Kumako City, don't you?"

"Uh, yes." Your husband pulled a chair out for you. "It's a three-hour train ride away."

Bakugo nodded, settling on the chair adjacent to yours, "I'm thinking we should bring cake. Your mom likes cake, right?"

You smiled, albeit sleepily, when he inquired. You mentioned this fact once, merely in passing when he first had to meet her. But the idea that he remembered it isn't something new, Bakugo always seem to pick up even the tiniest of things about you.

It was his keen eye and memory that makes him an incredible hero and an even amazing partner.

He did get your mother cake, it was sitting on his lap as you two boarded the train. When you guys arrived, Katsuki gave your mom the biggest hug — the kind that only he gives to you and his own parents.

"How are you?" Your mom led you two inside, and you wondered if she was speaking to you or your husband. Katsuki took over the conversation, smiling and sharing stories.

It made you smile though because he gave so much effort to be present in the conversation. He made sure to establish a relationship with a woman who was so prominent in your life.

Who is this man? Who is this warm and friendly man?

"You and my mom have quite the bond, 'suki." You commented as soon as you got home.

Katsuki gave you a smirk before joining you on the sofa, "Mmm, I know she's important to you so I put an effort into being close to your mom." He laid his arms on the back of the sofa and continued speaking, "Plus, she's an amazing lady. She's a great hero too."

Those were true. It touched your heart that the hard to please Katsuki seemed to admire your mother greatly.

What he said next made you melt. "Plus she gave birth to my favorite person. You."

You gave him a sweet smile and sunk into his arms, wondering how to got so lucky in life.

[winterflowersftw]

ITOSHI RIN X READER

COULD YOU EVER FORGIVE ME?

Synopsis:

Childhood best friends to lovers to strangers. Itoshi Rin is fixated on soccer. Itoshi Sae ruins things.

You had known Rin since you were 9 and he was 8. You were in his older brother, Itoshi Sae's class in elementary and middle school. Sae was a very nonchalant guy, barely said anything. But boy, did he have a talent for football. He won all the districts and state competitions. He not too good at studies to be honest. He was ....above-average at best.

You were in the school's baseball team. To be frank, you HAD to choose a sport so you chose baseball because it seemed the least demanding. You were an extra and you had no motivation to be in the playing nine. The football field was just adjacent to the baseball field and one day while watching Itoshi Sae play during a match, you said:

"He's so weird, not passing the ball at all. A selfish guy most probably."

Sae heard this and took a note to give you a piece of his mind later. Rin was standing nearby, star-studded by his brother's talent. He used to watch his every mgame and even told him about you once his match was over. Sae, being the football genius he was, scored 6 goals.

Itoshi Sae made it his motive to make your life in school hell. He didn't do much, but it was enough to ruin your day. Sometimes he'd come over to your desk and call you names, sometimes he'd bitch about you to your classmates even telling the other girls to keep their distance from you. Even with all that, you had two friends and they were your ride or die.

This petty rivalry went on for years. You became somewhat frienemies. But there were times when Sae would cross the line and you would leave crying. And when Sae was not looking, Rin would quietly come up to you to apologise for his brother's immature behaviour. You were more comfortable with Rin than you had ever been with Sae to be honest.

And slowly with time, Rin started coming to you even when there hadn't been a fight. He liked spending time with you. He did not have any friends except his brother so he made sure to visit you whenever he was not hanging out with him.

And then Rin got the most devastating news of all: Itoshi Sae was leaving for Spain for his football dream at age 13. Rin himself never considered playing football, but he did love watching Sae play. When Sae told him he had a talent for soccer and asked him to play, Rin agreed. The brothers dreamt to become the best strikers in the world.

With his brother gone, he clinged to football as if it was him. And soon, football did become his everything. And so did you.

You and Rin became much closer when Itoshi Sae left for Spain. Now that there were no petty fights, you did not had to meet Rin whenever you had time. But you did. That boy was so lonely you thought. But soon you started meeting him because you genuinely liked being with him. If Rin was not playing football, he was talking to you. It wasnt until he was 14 he realised he had feelings for you.

It took him 6 more months to come to terms with his feelings and to confess. When you heard his confession, you did not know what to say and just stood there; bewildered. But soon you realised you had fallen for him too. And almost immediately, you both went from best friends to lovers. Your mother was a calm woman and did not disapprove of Rin. She believed he was a good influence. Your relationship had been going well and it had been 6 months when you heard Itoshi Sae was coming home. Rin was overjoyed and texted Sae,

" I'm so excited omg omg. Before you come to visit mom and dad, please come to (y/n 's address). We'll have a party! "

To which Sae replied,

"Ok"

When Sae came to y/n's room only to find Rin sitting on her bed, he realised they both were dating when he saw their pictures on the bedside frame. To say he was pissed was an understatement.

His trip to Spain made him realise how average he was. If anything, he was of middling talent. And he wanted to be the best or nothing. He had come back a changed man. A pessimistic guy.

Then seeing you carrying a big cake which had "welcome back Sae!" written on it was his last straw. He threw the cake and shouted;

"Rin!! How do you expect yourself to become a world class striker when you're trapped here playing house? I did not know you threw away your dream of soccer." When he said it, he sounded angry; but by the end he just sounded disappointed which was much more saddening.

You were sad and crying. You tried your best to hide it, but you couldn't. So you ran out of that room. Then Sae told Rin;

"I'm going to be the best mid-fielder, not striker. My dream changed."

To Rin this was absolute betrayal.

"What about our dream then? That you'd be the best striker and I'd be after you?"

"My dream changed and you are here having fun playing house so I assume you'd never even make it to the top 10. "

Itoshi Sae had gotten a reality check in Spain. He knows what a player like him had to give away to be the best. He just wanted the same for his brother, to be the best. But Rin's attitude towards soccer made him feel like a fool for worrying about him. For him, it was probably just a hobby he thought.

The brothers went to the nearby football practice ground where Sae made his bet.

If Rin won, he'd go back to trying to be the best striker.

The one-on-one didn't last a minute.

Sae won effortlessly.

That was the last day you saw Rin. He never called, never reached out.

The next time you saw him was when you were in the Blue Lock stadium seeing the U-20 VS Blue Lock Eleven match.

When it ended, you were so happy for Rin. He finally defeated his brother's team. And yet, the expression on his face had never been more dull.

While leaving, you ran into Itoshi Sae.

"Hey y/n"

"Hey"

"I wanted to say that....."

And Sae saw the look on your face. It was not forgiving, not in the slightest. It was pure hate and rage.

Seeing that, he swallowed his words

"Never mind, bye."

And he left.

Seeing the match made you remember every memory you shared with Rin all over again. How easily had he thrown away 8 years of friendship? As if it was nothing. As if YOU were nothing.

And yet, you couldn't hate him.

You never forgave him either.

After the big match, the blue lock boys were given 2 weeks off. As Rin was going to his home, he realised the place which actually felt like home to him was you. He had so much to apologise for.

He came to your house and rang the bell. When you opened the door he said,

"I made the biggest mistake of my life. Could you ever forgive me?"

[basilknell]

Vasily's Ethnic Background

Howdy! I tend to ramble about history books I read adjacent to Vasily on my private accounts, so I figured I’d accumulate some of the information I read regarding headcanoning Vasily’s ethnic background. This’ll be a big ‘ole post, so I’ll stash it under a read-more for anyone interested.

This isn’t meant to be taken as a concrete ‘Vasily is canonically ethnically x’ post, and as you’ll read none of the options I cover are necessarily concrete as there’s overlap and conjecture to be found in every choice. Nonetheless, this post's biggest purpose is reference for myself, as I rotate what I headcanon him to be often; I’m hoping some others might take an interest in alternate backgrounds for him from this, as I only ever see him portrayed as ethnically Russian.

I’d be happy to provide further reading/direction for certain information covered if wanted, and a special thank you to Rdstrpv for some of the information unavailable in English for me to find! I will also occasionally update this post over time as I read more documents and come across more evidence/contradictions.

Please be aware that much of this can be a sensitive subject, and I have condensed much of this information to be understandable to the average reader which means nuance is lost. This is especially true in regards to the intersection of ethnicity and nationality of Cossacks when relating to Russian and Ukrainian history. I especially suggest further research beyond my simple blog if you have any interest in headcanoning Vasily as a Cossack. I stress it, even. I try my best to tread the history and terms, but a short blog can only touch upon so much.

Russian

To address first and foremost, comes the ethnic background the vast majority of fans (and likely Noda as well) ascribe to Vasily – an ethnic Russian. There’s not much information I need to corroborate regarding why exactly one might find Vasily to be ethnically Russian, and it is the easiest background for him to tread if you wish to play it safe regarding headcanons if you don’t know much about Russian history.

Vasily, given his first name and appearance, has no contradictory elements to him being Russian. s. His first name, Vasily, is one typically only ethnic Russians use, but we'll discuss this further in a bit. He speaks Russian in the show (though non-Russian ethnicities do sometimes speak Russian), he has an appearance typical of an ethnic Russian, and is found to be in an Russian Imperial Army (RIA) uniform – though I’d like to add there was mandatory conscription for most all males in Russia starting in 1874. Regardless of ethnicity, typically most men who resided within the empire could be conscripted into the army. The one time we see Vasily without his shinel (greatcoat), he’s wearing a kosovorotka, a shirt that specifically was worn by ethnic Russians at the time.

(Pictured Vasily’s kosovorotka.)

An argument could be made that another ethnicity would’ve worn a kosovorotka given it being one of the few clothing options when stationed further East, but the more likely assumption is he is simply Russian. After all, Vasily’s birthplace, Yeleninka, was, and still is, in Russia; he never bothers to correct other characters that call him Russian either. Though, this could also be in part that he either could no longer speak at all after being shot, or he didn’t find worth in arguing about it.

But, regarding Vasily’s clothing, there are some major inconsistencies beginning with the fact Noda clearly had little idea about the Russian uniform or military organization in 1907.

To begin with: an ethnic Russian being a border guard was unusual. Not impossible, by any means, but not exactly the norm. Border guards at the time were found to be one of two categories: Cossacks (I will be discussing them later) or a specialized military unit called the Special Border Guard Corps (SBGC). While Cossacks were typical to find as border guards, and oftentimes had their own separate units from ordinary military units, you often could find ethnic Russians in the SBGC, though border protection more often than not belonged to Cossacks in the Far East. You might also find the occasional ethnic Russians serving as a Cossack out East, but again, this will be further discussed below as to what that meant.

Neither Cossacks nor the SBGC wore the uniform Vasily and the other members of his unit are found in. In fact, technically the RIA did not either, as the uniforms of Vasily and his comrades are WWI uniform designs. It's important to note here, however, Sakhalin was not monitored by the SBGC in 1907 as there was a lack of funds, and as such Cossacks almost exclusively guarded that border. An argument can be made, however, that normal RIA members also helped in guarding the border since it had not been long since the Russo-Japanese War had ended. I mention the SBGC and their uniforms as reference for those that might wish to find justification for Vasily being in the corps and on the border somehow.

(Pictured 1909 uniforms of the SBGC.)

While this is a graphic of 1909 SBGC uniforms, they remained largely similar to the years before, and are notable for their green coloration to mark their identification. It’s far harder to pinpoint Vasily’s outfit had he been a Cossack, namely because he could have been in several different uniforms depending on which voisko (AKA a Host – think of these as state/territory distinctions between Cossacks residences) he originated from. To be a Cossack on the Sakhalin border, he could’ve been from a number of different voisko that created the East Siberian District that covered Sakhalin. Simply though, no Cossack uniform matched the uniform Vasily canonically wears either. Nor does in match the uniforms of the RIA at the time.

So what uniform is Vasily found to be wearing, then? His outfit is a generic foot soldier uniform of low-ranking members of the RIA, lacking any tags to denote which unit Vasily prevails from entirely. However, the bulk of the uniform Vasily is found in was introduced in the year 1907 by order of complete uniform overhaul by Tsar Nicholas II, but other elements come from post-1910 reforms seen most typically in use during WWI. Given Vasily being in the Far East, it would be rather unusual for Vasily to wear a newly-issued uniform such as the one he’s found in. How would a soldier presumably on a remote border have such a newly printed uniform (albeit, anachronistic in some aspects such as his Papakha being from a 1910 reform), structured for a separate occupation he does not have? He is on the border as a sniper when he first appears after all, not merely a foot soldier.

All of this culminates into a couple of pieces of important information regarding Noda. (1) He was entirely unaware that the regular military did not cover borders, and instead it was the job of specialized units, Cossacks, and less commonly the SBGC. (2) He intentionally avoided pertinent information on Vasily’s uniform and gave him a generic one from the very year Russian uniforms were massively changed lasting until the Revolution. In fact, Noda had made edits to Vasily’s uniform between the original release of his appearance, and the volume releases, meaning he wasn’t thorough in depicting the Russian soldiers. (3) To culminate most of this, Noda had simply cobbled together information that created Vasily to be versatile for several different headcanons, not just as an ethnic Russian. If Noda had failed so spectacularly regarding Vasily’s uniform, could he also not have made a mistake in Vasily’s kosovorotka? After all, gimnasterka were typically worn under shinel, and while Vasily’s shirt looks more like a kosovorotka than a gimnasterka, Noda simply could’ve drawn the gimnasterka wrong and accidentally created a kosovorotka.

There is a reason why most fans label Vasily as ethnically Russian, aside from general lack of knowledge on the subject, but in that same vein much of the evidence that he is ethnically Russian can be refuted in the same breath. Regardless, it's a simple headcanon to choose above the others if one wished.

Ukrainian

While Vasily’s silence and clothes tell one story about his background, his name itself tells another. Specifically, his surname! ‘Vasily’ is found typically upon Russians and those who want to Russify themselves while 'Vasyl' is the Ukrainian equivalent, but his surname, Pavlichenko, is distinctly Ukrainian and not Russian. His father’s family, at the very least, had to have been of Ukrainian origin, regardless of his birthplace in Yeleninka (which is not located very close to any areas of modern-day Ukraine). It would be up to interpretation if his mother was also Ukrainian, but it does not conflict history to state his family could have moved from the regions of Ukraine (perhaps after serfdom was abolished in 1861) to different areas in search of land. Being leased onto Cossack land to farm in the Orenburg voisko, where Yeleninka was located, was common for laborers and poorer non-Cossack locals. An ethnic Ukrainian being found in Yeleninka is not as outlandish as one might think and is entirely plausible, as a portion of Yeleninka was indeed ethnically Ukrainian (whether this was through forced displacement or general immigration, I am unsure). And, as discussed in the previous section, when assuming how an ethnic Russian was a border guard, the same logic can apply to a Ukrainian simply being in the RIA.

It’s difficult to explain away Vasily’s last name without him being, in part, Ukrainian. But again, part of this information likely comes from Noda’s lack of research into Russian history. Vasily’s last name is taken from a famous sniper, Lyudmila Pavlichenko, just as Vasily’s first name and birthplace are taken from another sniper, Vasily Zaitsev. Despite being ethnically Ukrainian, Lyudmila is often regarded as just a ‘Soviet’ sniper, and thus it's likely Noda assumed she was simply Russian and gave her name to Vasily because of that, unaware that there was a difference between Ukrainian and Russian last names.

Vasily's first name not being the Ukrainian variation of 'Vasyl' could be explained by that stated mixed heritage. However, it was also incredibly common for Ukrainians in the past to go by a Russified name. For example, the famous writer Nikolai Gogol's true name is actually Mykola Hohol. Vasily could very well have chosen to start going by a Russian first name while in the army, or had it changed for him, as it was not uncommon for well-known Ukrainians to have these double names.

If you’re a stickler to the specifics despite Noda’s intention, Vasily’s Ukrainian surname cannot be argued against as easily as many of the ethnic Russian factors for him. Whether that means you’d find Vasily to be exclusively Ukrainian, or a mix, that is up to one’s own headcanon interpretation.

Orenburg Cossack

Cossacks are a very long and convoluted subject in Eastern European history, but I will do my best to explain this as clearly as I can without dredging into too much history. First, and most important to remember, is ‘Cossack’ was not necessarily always a distinct ethnic identity from other ethnicities within the Empire. But it was an ethnic identity to some.

The Cossacks emerged from various ethnic backgrounds. They culminated into one as different groups fled from whatever situation they found themselves in and drew into banditry together. Russians and Ukrainians fleeing serfdom, Poles fleeing the hetmans, those of Turk background, etc., all became a hodgepodge group called ‘Cossacks’ in modern-day Ukraine and parts of Southwestern modern-day Russia. Over time, this group obtained special privileges from Imperial Russia in return for their extensive military service. Cossacks began to develop into an ethnic identity separate from Russians, Ukrainians, and Turks. Their own culture was Slavic mixed with Turkish culture – distinctly blended so they did not identify as one or the other. This was not always the case, and often the further back in history you go, the more often you would find Cossacks who identified with an ethnic identity outside of Cossackhood. You might often hear the term 'Ukrainian Cossack' in reference to Zaporozhian Cossacks because of this, as many of these Cossacks would have identified as being kin to what we now call modern-day Ukrainians rather than having a distinct ethnic Cossack identity. But, later in the empire, certain Cossack groups did distinguish themselves as ethnically different from the Russians, Ukrainians, and other Slavic groups in the area.

However, because of these special privileges given to them by the Russian Empire, a legal definition of a Cossack had to be applied to persons. Due to this, as Cossack voiskos began forming further East into Siberia where the Russian government wanted Cossacks stationed, they would often bestow the title of ‘Cossack’ to people living in certain areas who ethnically had no connection to Cossacks whatsoever. This created situations where those who did not want to be involved in the military were now legally obligated to give military service, and it was now possible to find even ethnically Chinese Cossacks in Eastern voiskos. A Cossack had become both an ethnic identity and a legal title to be bestowed, though the vast majority of Cossacks still remained those of the ethnic background.

To summarize, Cossacks found in Western Imperial Russia often regarded themselves as distinctly different ethnically from other groups (Russians, Ukrainians, Khalmyks), such as with Don, Kuban, and Ural Cossacks. This is often exemplified in Russian Literature (although written by those who are romanticizing the Cossacks) where it is highlighted that Cossacks consider themselves a separate ethnicity from those around them. However in the more Eastern voisko, while it was possible to find Cossacks who believed themselves ethnically Cossack, sometimes being a Cossack was simply a legal title and held no other cultural or ethnic significance.

Now, in regards to Vasily, border guards were often Cossacks in Imperial Russia, as it was one of their duties when not in an active military turn. This immediately gives him claim to potentially being a Cossack, if you choose to headcanon him as a Cossack rather than just in the RIA. But, specifically, Sakhalin was only guarded officially by Cossacks until the succession of the Soviets. Now, as stated above, he was far more likely to consider himself ethnically Cossack (which would explain a Ukrainian last name, but not consider himself Ukrainian due the blended nature of Cossacks) if he was from a voisko further West. But, Sakhalin was one of the Eastern-most points in Russia, and lacked a specific voisko to cover it. Instead, a group called the East Siberian District chose to cover Sakhalin, which was a collection of different voisko. If one was to headcanon Vasily as being a Cossack from any of these Eastern voisko, it’d be much easier to state several things at once: (1) Vasily is legally a Cossack and (2) Vasily considers himself to be ethnically Cossack, Ukrainian, Russian, or whatever else one might choose to headcanon him as. The only background you cannot headcanon such things in conjunction are legally Cossack and ethnically + religiously Jewish for a number of reasons (if a Jew converted, they could indeed be dubbed a Cossack. Antin Krzyzhanovsky is a historical figure notable for doing this).

But, let us backtrack, as there is further evidence to Cossack Vasily beyond his occupation as a border guard. Yeleninka was located in the Orenburg voisko, and those who resided in Yeleninka were legally considered Cossacks. In fact, regardless of headcanon purposes, when following only factual history and no conjecture, Vasily should have been legally a Cossack if he had been born in Yeleninka itself (if born outside the town or if he moved there young, he could’ve been considered a non-Cossack living in the area. Certain ethnicities like Jews and Kalmyks were exempt from the legal title being applied however). I’ve never found specific statistics regarding Yeleninka’s official ethnic makeup, but as for the Orenburg voisko as a whole: when the Orenburg voisko was created, the government supplanted several ethnic Cossacks in the area, but also legally defined some ethnically Russian, Tatar, Mordvin, and Chuvash persons living in the area into Cossacks as well. Thus, one could easily consider Vasily ethnically Cossack, or instead consider him to be one of the other ethnicities listed above while only a Cossack in legal title.

To return back to the discussion about Sakhalin coverage, Yeleninka’s existence in the Orenburg voisko does, in fact, line up with history correctly, though I’m sure Noda was entirely unaware of this. Orenburg was a voisko part of the East Siberian District, and it is entirely plausible Vasily would have been stationed on the border because of that. Though it would have been more likely for a further East voisko to send soldiers to that specific border, but not impossible because Orenburg was part of the District.

Ussuri Cossack

Now, the Ussuri Cossack headcanon hinges upon everything I’ve just said above regarding Orenburg Cossacks. Whether or not Vasily is considered ethnically or legally Cossack matters little, only that he is simply titled an ‘Orenburg Cossack’ at the time of his birth, which he otherwise legally should’ve been if he was born in Yeleninka.

As mentioned, the Ussuri voisko was the voisko found furthest East – and because of that, it was the voisko that supplanted the most Cossacks to Sakhalin. However, there is indeed precedent for an Orenburg Cossack becoming an Ussuri Cossack. While it was notoriously difficult for Cossacks (and peasants in general) to transfer between voisko, starting in the 1890s (after a large famine hit the Orenburg voisko the hardest) the government began supporting Orenburg Cossacks in moving to the Ussuri voisko.

So, in essence, Vasily could have been born in Yeleninka, legally considered a Cossack, and then moved to be raised in the Ussuri voisko as an Ussuri Cossack, allowing for a more probable likeness for him to have been stationed at the Sakhalin border. Because of how devastating the famine was to the Orenburg voisko, movement to the Ussuri voisko was a fairly popular choice for some Cossacks.

Mordvin (Moksha & Erzya) + Chuvash

To get out of the way an important piece of information: I am going to use the term ‘Mordvin’ for ease. However, Mordvin is an umbrella term referring to two distinct, but related, ethnic groups known as the Moksha and Erzya. Think of it like the term ‘Slav’ in reference to Poles and Russians.

Aside from Vasily’s place of birth – Yeleninka – and its place in the Oreburg host, there’s not much other specific evidence towards Vasily being Mordvin. There was a decently large population of Mordvins in the Orenburg voisko, and quite a few of them were also legally deemed Cossacks as well. And, while that is the little info I have (mostly because there is very little information involving Mordvins published in English and even Russian), no other information would contradict him being Mordvin either aside from his Ukrainian last name. But, of course, his last name can always be easily explained away as mixed marriage in the past.

I am adding Chuvash as another ethnic group similar to the Mordvin’s in Fors and Againsts. They had a decent population size in the Orenburg, and some also served as Cossacks. However, unlike the Mordvins which are a Finno-Ugric peoples that had assimilated and intermarried with Russians quite a lot, Chuvash tend to have more of a Central Asian appearance which is a bit of a contrast to Vasily’s canon appearance (blond-brown hair, strong nose bridge, blue hooded eyes).

Turkish

I’ll quickly preface that Vasily being full-blooded Turkish is highly unlikely. But I wanted to at least mention that it wouldn’t be uncommon for him to be a quarter or half Turkish. The reason why is that during the Russo-Turkish War during the 1860s, Cossacks often brough Turkish brides back to Russia with them after the end of the war. Given that Cossacks already have some mix of Turkic culture, they were partial to bringing these women back with them (though I must stress this was not always done morally). Regardless, if one is running with the idea that Vasily is a Cossack, his parents being mixed Turkish or a grandmother of his being fully Turkish is completely plausible.

Jewish

I’m going to attempt this as respectfully as I can, as it would be remiss of me not to entertain the idea of Vasily being Jewish because Jews were a significant population of the Russian Empire. Nonetheless, the facts stack against this headcanon, but I want to lay them out for clarity’s sake as perhaps the info is useful to someone attempting to work with the headcanon. The history of Jews in Russia is quite extensively plotted in academia, and though I’ve read a couple papers and books about it, I could very well be missing important information. Please feel free to correct me.

First and most importantly: Vasily could not have been a Cossack and religiously Jewish. If, perchance, he was only ethnically Jewish but his family kept this information completely hidden or they openly converted to Orthodoxy, then he could’ve been legally defined as a Cossack. But otherwise, Jews were never given the legal title, and even ethnic Jews who had converted to Orthodoxy were still heavily discriminated against by other Cossacks. While I’ve never found a specific law mentioned against legally defining Jews as Cossacks, there are social issues to consider. Cossacks, particularly ethnic ones, were notorious in their violence against Jews. They instigated and typically were the ones who committed pogroms against Jews in the empire and had a long history of using them as scapegoats in political matters. If a Jew was to gain the legal title of ‘Cossack’, there would not have been a particularly peaceful outcome to such a situation. Thus, to be religiously Jewish Vasily must have only been in the Separate Border Guard Corps which did allow Jews.

Next, Vasily’s last name, Pavlichenko, can be explained. While the majority of Jews in Russia had Germanic last names (and ordinarily first names as well), they sometimes took Slavic names, especially if conversion or intermarriage occurred. Given that Pavlichenko is Ukrainian as well, it is actually more favorable than him having a Russian last name – Jews in Russia were majority confined to an area called the Pale. The Pale covered what is now modern day Ukraine, Belarus, Poland, Lithuania, and a bit of Latvia. If he was to have a non-Germanic surname, it was more likely to have originated from one of these areas, such as Ukraine, hence him more likely to have a Ukrainian last name than a Russian one.

Unfortunately, discussion of the Pale leads into a major problem concerning Vasily: Jews were constricted to this area. A handful of Jews could be found in major cities of European Russia if they were artisans or merchants, as they were allowed to legally reside in these cities when given permits*. For example, about 4000 Jews resided in Moscow around 1900. However, this only extended to major cities just outside the Pale. Upon my research into the Orenburg Oblast, a 1897 census survey finds a grand total 4 Jews living in the entirety of the Oblast (special thank you to Rdstrp for providing me the census). Though I will say, upon reading other papers, there is mention of a single Jewish Cheder in Orenburg that supported 20 students. This hints that perhaps there were more Jews living in Orenburg than the official census denotes, but not by much. Of course, as stated with the Cossack background, there are ways around this statistic. Vasily could be ethnically Jewish, but his family hid this fact and became baptized in order to live outside the Pale and major cities. 

Finally, if Vasily had been Jewish, it would’ve been strange he didn’t bring this fact up to the Japanese cast. During the Russo-Japanese War, Japan was heavily funded by wealthy American Jews who despised Russia for their strict, antisemitic laws and their recent pogroms. Because of this, Japan was especially favorable towards Jews and during the war would often separate Jewish POWs from the other Russian military POWs, giving them better treatment as if they were guests. To this point, Jews often wanted to stay in Japan because of how well they were treated by the Japanese. I’m unsure exactly how long this favorable view lasted, but it is not remiss to believe as close post-war as Golden Kamuy is, this favorable stance would still hold. Instead of viewing Vasily as an annoying Russian, he very well could’ve used his Jewish background to cement himself a more favorable disposition from the Japanese cast.

*There were some Jews living outside the Pale, but not significant numbers. The Georgian and Central Asian Jews of Iranian background were allowed to reside outside the Pale in their origin areas. There were also some Siberian Jewish communities created by Jews who had been exiled into Siberia, but none of these communities were particularly close to Yeleninka.

End Note

I’ll end this on a note that, with all this information laid out, I only wish to encourage people to choose what they personally feel drawn to for Vasily’s background. While some headcanons have more evidence than others, each has their own difficulties with history in ways, as Noda accidentally contradicted much of the information he applied to Vasily. I hope this encourages more people to do research into the history here – which I think is especially needed if you intend to headcanon Vasily as a Cossack, even if you are headcanoning him to be a ethnically non-Cossack, but legally defined under the title. But a mix of ethnic background is entirely possible for Vasily according to just the factual history, so restricting him to one ethnic identity isn’t needed if one does not wish.

Personally, I often write and draw Vasily as being half Ukrainian half Russian, though in my actual preference I find him to be an ethnic Cossack that was raised in the Ussuri voisko. However, I feel when I present him as a Cossack I want nuance following it, so I’ve never bothered to draw or write him as such beyond a couple sketches.

[zack-agere]

.𖥔 ݁ ☁︎ Koi clouds across the sky ₊˚ 𓆝𓂃・₊ ⊹

pairing : gn ! caregiver x regressed gn ! reader

summary : reader and their caregiver go to a koi pond and eat sandwhiches

word count : < 570 · short

warnings : none, fluff

a / n : second fic ever, this is for practice, apparently people liked the first one so here I am again

Their colours glimmered in the sunlight.

Water so clear that you could see every small detail crafted by nature, innately gliding through it as if they had every movement memorised. Their citrus orange and yellow hues shined like the sun when setting.

Even though you heard a faint voice call to you from behind, all you could focus on was the divine image of the koi infront of you. As the wind drifted across your bare arms, your mind had finally decided to give something else your attention.

"Looking at the koi?"

You turned you head to your carer, who was slowly descending the small hill down to the pond, picnic basket in hand.

"Mhm," you replied quickly, your eyes beginning to wander once again.

"Aren't they beautiful?" they quietly said, bending down to get a closer look at the fish.

You both stood there at the border of the water, with an old but short tree nearby, admiring the creatures below the shadows of it's leaves.

As you equally enjoyed their presence, many minutes passed before they stood up again.

"Let's eat, alright?" they partially asked and moreso requested. "I'm sure you're hungry. One fruit before we came isn't going to keep you full, and you can still watch them as we eat."

While you wanted to refuse and continue standing at the pond's edge, the rumbles of your stomach clearly had decided what you would be doing instead.

"Ok, but we have to stay close, I don't want to go far!" you requested.

"Don't worry, we'll stay right here," they said while sitting down onto the grass adjacent to the water, and then gently patting it.

Going along with what they wanted, you sat down next to them. As they rummaged through the basket, you took in the crisp air. It wasn't everyday that things just seemed to go perfectly.

"Here's my sandwich and... ah! Here is yours!" your carer proclaimed as they passed your delicious food over onto your lap.

Taking a bite, you could feel the crust touching the roof of your mouth, and the soft innards of the bread melting as you swallowed it.

Continuing your chewing, you presumed your watching of the koi. Time seemingly slipped away as your mind drifted out back into the pond. The fish would periodically stop swimming to just sit in place, almost in sync with your eating.

When your eyes glanced over to your caregiver, you noticed both of you had finished your meals.

"Can we eat the cookies now?" you asked gently as to not disturb the calm atmosphere.

"Sure," they replied, with an equal amount of soothingness.

Unlike last time they had searched through it, they immediately found the paper bag in the basket.

"Here," they said, placing it in your hand.

You looked at its light golden brown surface, the endulgant chuncks of chocolate, and you slowly took bite after bite.

Savouring the joyful yellow of the sky, you rest your head on the grass, looking towards the clouds above.

The pointed, envy blades had a sweet but sharp scent, a contrast to the softness you could sense in the clouds. The sky was relaxed, and the sun was resting over you. Your caregiver laid next to you, their hands behind their head.

A cloud in the shape of a koi fish swam across the sky.

This day was incomparable.

[angry-geese]

Blood Ties - Chapter Thirty Four: Let Fate Toy With You

Soulmate au Choso x Reader

Warnings: canon typical violence. injury mention. overall sfw

Synopsis: a pretty plot heavy chapter. james and mal continue their plot to take over territory in their barrier, when they run into more players

Word count: 3.6k

prev - next

Masterlist

When James finally comes to, the room is spinning, and his throat is dry. He freezes. This is not the room he last remembers being in.

"You're awake. Good. Almost thought she killed you." Mal says. Her voice comes from somewhere to the left. 

James props himself up on his elbows. The action of doing such sends a wave of fatigue rolling over him. His arms wrap around his chest, and he expects the pain of a broken bone, but finds nothing. He lifts his shirt just enough to glance at his chest, and he’s met with the sight of clean skin. Not a single bruise to be seen.

Mallory casts a glare at him. “Could you put your shirt back on please?”

So she can use a reversed cursed technique. And on other people.

“I healed what I could,” she says, between sips of her drink, “but there's only so much I can do. Chances are you're going to feel terrible.”

Well he's alive. That’s about the best he can ask for.

“I've never seen a weapon like that before.” James says.

“It's called a meteor hammer.” Mallory says. “Those things are hospital bills waiting to happen—I only recognized it from a DND campaign I played through. We had one of those in-game. A weapon like that takes too long to master, so generally they weren't mass produced for use by soldiers. Still, certain monks would train with them, as they had the time to dedicate to the craft.” 

“So she was a reincarnated sorcerer?”

Mal seems to think for a moment, before shrugging, and saying “Probably. I haven't really thought about that. I've been trying to plan our route.”

She's drawn a crude map on the back of a menu. It outlines the nearby streets, along with a few of the buildings—shops and whatnot. Certain areas are marked with large X’s. Others are blocked off with what James can only assume means danger.

James sits up, hunching over the map. "I assume you want to avoid the main streets?"

"Yeah." She says with a nod. "Aside from it being more open, another sorcerer has taken over that territory. I don't know her name, but I know she can weaponize her own blood." Mallory pulls down her shirt collar, revealing a long pale scar across her shoulder. “She got me pretty bad a while back.”

A Kamo maybe? A reincarnated one?

"What if we take this alley?" He asks, jabbing his finger into the map.

"That's run by a sorcerer called Talen," she says. "I've only ever interacted with him once. Weird guy. Kind of squirrely. Can't really call him harmless, but I don't think that he'll go after both of us."

James leans back in his seat, arms crossed in front of his chest. "So if you already know all this, then why bother taking over that apartment complex?" He asks.

"Because it's king of the hill, Jimmy." She says. "If we have that building secured, we have an easily defendable high point. We'll be able to see the landscape of this entire barrier. It’d give us a major leg up in this game. Putting it plainly: we aren't the only players trying to secure territory."

He points to the street adjacent to the one he entered on. “Is there a player with territory here?” 

Mal nods. “Name’s Aikawa, I think,” she says. “Last I heard of him, he was hiding out near one of the entry points—there's about nine of those scattered around this place. Some sorcerers will hang around these points, hoping to catch new players while they’re still disoriented.”

Point farming? Smart. “Do you know anything else about him?” Asks James.

“No. Just that he has about eighty points.” She says. “So he must be tough. And I’m not exactly eager to pick a fight with him.”

So a total of three sorcerers to take out. Fifteen points altogether. On his own, it’ll be no easy feat. But with Mal’s help, he may stand a chance. This Talen guy may be the easiest to take out. In order to do such, they need to corner him. Or catch him off guard. The next easiest would be Aikawa. He's definitely not expecting someone to fight back. That woman may prove to be a problem though…

“That leaves these two streets empty,” he says, pointing to a side street. Part residential, part commercial from the looks of it. “It's a longer way around, but there's plenty of cover. Nothing’s too open.”

"I hadn't even thought of that." She says. She leans back in her chair, sighing. Her brows knit in apparent thought. Mal sets her cup down with a soft thud. “If we’re going to be working together, I think it's best we understand each other’s strengths, and weaknesses.” She continues. “So tell me, what does your cursed technique do?” 

Though her question is innocent enough, it leaves James with a bad taste in his mouth. He has the feeling he should choose his next words rather carefully.

“By using a bit of a person’s blood, I can join two people with the string of fate.” James answers. “Some call it Matchmaker, but I don't have a name for it, so that's what I go with.”

Disappointment makes itself known in the crease between her eyebrows. “Really?” She says. “That's lame.”

He whips his head around to glare at her. “What's yours then?”

She stands, pushing her chair back in. Her neatly manicured nails drum against the table. "Do you think you can walk? Or should we rest a bit more before making the trip?” Her gaze turns to the window, and her expression falls. “We’ve got company.”

“How many?” James asks.

“I only see one.”

He lifts his head enough to peek out the window. One person, standing in the middle of the street. A woman. She’s not particularly strong looking, or physically imposing, but the cursed energy he senses from her is immense. This sorcerer has no weapons as far as James can tell. The string of fate loops itself around her ring finger, before disappearing. And if James had to guess, he’d say this woman is a reincarnated sorcerer.

From his belt, James seizes his revolver, cocking it. There's a soft click as the hammer locks in place, and a new round is readied. Mallory grabs him by the shirt collar, yanking him back down.

“What the hell are you doing?!” She hisses. “The noise from that is going to alert half of the people in this barrier! Do you want to bring everyone down on our asses?!”

The bitter taste of cursed energy fills his mouth. It's neither his, nor Mal’s. James senses another, weaker soul.

It stands on four legs like a dog, but it's body is far too big to be any animal he's ever seen. The three heads it has all resemble a different breed of dog: boxer, rottweiler, and german shepherd. Instead of fur, it has wrinkly, leathery skin. It resembles tanned leather far more than it does actual flesh.

A shikigami.

If that thing stands up on two legs I'm going to shit myself, he thinks. Luckily, it doesn't appear to be bipedal.

The hound stops, sniffing at the air, before one of its heads—the German shepherd—whips in James' direction. A cold shudder runs up his spine. Those are the eyes of a human. 

Then it howls. It's a horrible noise; beginning as a dog’s howl, but slowly turning into a more human scream. A metallic taste fills his mouth. It feels as if someone has stuffed his ears with cotton.

“What is that thing?” Mal asks, voice barely a whisper. With the way his ears are ringing, she could be yelling for all he knows.

“A shikigami.” He says. “It's like a cursed spirit, but it's being controlled by a sorcerer.”

“Looks like it's just the two of them.” She says. “Should we run? Or do you want to fight her?”

They need the points. If he's to put that rule into place, he needs all the points he can get. 

“We fight.” He says. “Going in guns blazing when we have no idea what she can do is a death wish, but I doubt there's any sneaking up on her. So… you distract her, I’ll take on her shikigami, then we’ll deal the killing blow when she’s weakened.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.”

“You have a better plan?”

“Yes,” she says. “Running.” 

James’ brows knit in frustration. “I want those points. Now are you going to help me or not?”

“Fine.” She says. Her head whips towards the left. “I have an idea.” Mal makes a break for the stairwell. A moment later, a crash is heard from the floor above.

She's distracted. Likely deciding whether or not it's worth it to investigate that noise. Cursed energy pours down his arms, into his weapon. Rend isn't particularly complicated: it's the reinforcement of one’s limbs with cursed energy—any sorcerer worth his salt can do that. His finger tightens around the trigger.

He sticks his pointer and middle finger in his mouth, and whistles. In unison, the shikigami’s three heads all turn to look at him.

James reinforces his limbs with cursed energy too late. Sharp teeth make quick work of his flesh, sinking right into it. It takes everything within him not to scream then and there. Its hide is far too tough for any knife to pierce. From his belt, he pulls his knife, driving it into the eye of the shikigami. It sinks down into a hilt with a squelch. The resulting pulse of cursed energy is enough to stun the creature, but not to kill it.

She must recall her shikigami before he can destroy it, because the next thing he knows, he's on his hands and knees. His movements feel much like a scene in a badly shot horror movie; shaky camera and all. One scene he’s standing. Then a cut. Then he’s running. Then another cut. It's all blurry. There’s not much he recognizes, until he’s collapsing in the alley between two buildings.

James can only make out two words: “domain expansion,”

The following blast of cursed energy feels akin to being hit in the chest with a nuke. Like his cells are being torn apart one by one, and pieced back together wrong. James is blown backwards into a wall, the force of which is so strong he cracks the wood panels.

This room is big enough to be a gymnasium. Though it's too dark to make out much else. The sickly sweet smell of decay hangs in the air. It's as if there's a weight on his chest with how difficult he finds it to breathe. James pulls his shirt collar up over his nose, relieved to find it covered in a thin layer of sweat, making the smell slightly more bearable.

A low noise fills the room. Humming. Beating like a heart. He feels it low in his chest. It comes from the black ceiling. What's with the background music? 

It takes James a solid minute to regain his bearings. And in that time, if this sorcerer really wanted to kill him, she certainly could have. Standing takes an immense amount of effort. One of his ears is ringing badly. Something squelches underfoot. It looks like liquified flesh. Smells like it too. The floor is covered in this foul substance. A new wave of nausea rolls over him. James gags, covering his mouth with his hand. He takes in a breath, but the action provides little relief.

Weakly, he looks up. Flies. Hundreds of thousands of them coating the ceiling. Their wings glint black as they flap in unison.

Her hand brushes across his forearm briefly, and it's as if his chest has been pumped with an electrical current strong enough to stop his heart. The muscle beats in an irregular pattern. Thump! Thump-thump, thump-thump-thump! Thump! 

With each step she takes, a squelching noise follows, like boots getting stuck in mud. “You’re pretty strong.” She says. “You're from this era, aren't you? You're a cut above the usual grunts I run into.”

"What the hell did you do to me?" 

“My cursed technique saps a human being of their lifespan.” She continues, “you were supposed to live to the age of fifty-six. Through our brief contact, I have shaved twenty years off your lifespan.”

“Twenty years…?!” James sucks in a breath. Why was his lifespan so short in the first place? Fifty-six certainly isn't young, but it's not particularly old either. Not in the modern age, at least.

If he makes it out of this fight, that leaves him with nine years. Maybe less. Of course, she could be bluffing. Saying such a thing would be a decent fear tactic.

“Don't act so surprised,” she says. “You're a heavy smoker, a borderline alcoholic, and your diet primarily consists of fast food. Combine this with a high stress life-style and you’re a heart attack waiting to happen,

“The thing is… I know you.” She says. “Or I knew your ancestors. You’re the soulmate sorcerer. And I want something from you.”

James aims his revolver at her. Nobody is going to notice the noise in here. “You’re assuming I won't just kill you.”

“If you kill me here, you’re trapped in my domain forever.” She says. “Until you either go insane, someone brings me back and I let you out, or you find some way to off yourself. Either way, I'm certain that's not how you want to go out,

“I want the name of my soulmate. And I want to know if they’re still alive. Give me that, and you’re free to go,

“Of course, I can't let you leave this place without making some sort of binding vow. I'm sorry, but the laws of my cursed technique only allow so much,

“That woman you're with—you’re going to have to kill her,” she continues, “if she is not dead within the next nineteen days, my shikigami will have the remaining nine years of your life span, and you will die.”

A cold sweat breaks out on James’ forehead. “Why do you want her dead specifically?” He asks. “Why not have me kill any other player?”

“This woman has pissed me off, and I want her dead.” She answers, refusing to elaborate further.

James understood that it may come to that eventually. When your very survival is based on the deaths of one another, alliances only last so long. It's basic human nature. He's certain that, if it comes to it, he’ll be able to throw the killing blow. He doesn't want to, but he could do it.

“Now what do you need to find my soulmate?”

James swallows, but the lump in his throat refuses to go down.

“A bit of your blood.” He says, motioning for her to hold out her hand. She complies. He pricks the tip of her finger with his knife, drawing a small bead of blood, smearing it onto his palm. Slowly the string of fate begins to unravel, revealing a name.

“Attention!” Says a kogane, startling the pair near half to death, “a player has added a new rule to the game!”

Its mouth unravels like a scroll, revealing a list, numbered 1 through 10. 

10. Players may transfer a number of points of their choosing to another player

One of them did it. James lets out a sigh he hadn't realized he was holding. They did it.

James watches as the corners of her lips twitch.

“I'm going to give you five of my points,” she says. “Pretend you have killed me. I suppose we’ll meet again, if it comes to that,

“Kogane—I wish to transfer five of my points to this sorcerer.” Her own kogane appears, mouth unraveling like a scroll. She scans the list for a moment, before finding her name. Altogether, she has a little over forty points. So she's been going after sorcerers and humans.

“Why make a deal with Kenjaku?” James asks. “What could he possibly offer that's so great?”

“A chance to start over.” She says matter-of-factly. “Because I had regrets while I was alive. And I left this place with business I needed to finish.”

That's vague, he thinks. “Are you Angel, by any chance?” James asks.

“No,” she answers.

Five points have been added to: Whitford, James

The room seems to swirl into view all at once. James lands on his feet, before falling to his knees, gripping his shirt right where his heart should be. His heart beats in an irregular pattern, and he feels out of breath. A cold bead of sweat rolls down his back.

“Holy shit!” Mal says. “Are you alright?!”

Her hands are planting on his shoulders, roughly shaking him. His meager breakfast threatens to make a reappearance.

“I feel… nauseous.” James says, before gagging.

Mal lets him go, taking a step back. She eyes him warily. “You killed her?” She asks, almost as if she can't believe it. 

As if on cue, a Kogane appears, displaying:

Player name: Whitford, James

Current points: 15

It lingers for a moment, before disappearing as suddenly as it appeared. Fifteen points down. Only eighty-five to go.

"Did you know that sorcerer?" He asks.

"No," she says. "I've never seen her before. She must be a new player."

Somehow James doesn't buy that.

Nearly fifteen minutes pass as they walk in silence. To get into the lobby, they need a key fob. One is easily located on a body outside the main entrance. Someone has shut down the elevator, but the stairwells are unlocked. Wilting plants sit by the windows. Papers are strewn across the floor. It's dark, and the room is lit only by a faint red exit light. 

“Did you see that announcement? We can exchange points between each other now.” James says.

“Yeah. I wonder who put that into place.” She says.

In the dark, James fumbles around for a light switch. Harsh, white light fills the lobby. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light. At least there's power.

“Someone’s been here.” She says.

“How can you tell?” Asks James.

“Look,” she points to a door. “Those shoes over there.”

That could mean anything, he thinks. Must have been civilians. “Someone probably just forgot them.” 

“Don't you think it's a little odd, though?” She asks.

He shrugs. “I think they were in a hurry to leave.”

She props the door open, stepping out into the stairwell. Reluctantly, James follows her, and they begin the task of reaching the top floor. 

It's not until they're nearing the top floor that they find an exit unlocked. Most require keycards, of which they don't have. Others seem to be barred from the other side.

When they finally find an unlocked door, they leave through it, exiting out into the hall. The lights are on in this part of the building. Umbrellas and shoes are left out, as if people are still going to come back for them. The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Towards the end of the hall, where it takes a sudden left, is a closet. Aside from Mallory, he senses another soul—multiple souls, clustered together.

There's about eight people altogether, all huddled in this broom closet. A man, a woman, and the rest are kids. None look to be older than elementary schoolers; the oldest being about ten, the youngest around six.

The woman has a rifle pointed at James' face. And that's the last James expects to see of his face.

“M-move and I’ll shoot!” She says, her finger tightening around the trigger. "These are my students, and I am willing to defend them with my life."

"Woah, woah," James holds up his hands in defense, "that's not necessary. Nobody needs to defend anybody with their life right now—we're just looking for the roof access of this building."

"Why should we help you?" She spits. "All you shamans do is kill us for sport! You damn savages!"

That seems to strike a nerve with Mallory, who’s face twists into a scowl. James senses the sudden flare of her cursed energy.

"Listen lady, half of us didn't have a say in whether or not we would fight. Same as you, right?" Mal says. "We're all on the same page here."

"Civilians can leave the colony through two allotted exits," James says, " if you help us, we’ll help you. We’ll try to get you guys out of here."

“We will?” Mal asks.

“You can get us out of here?” The woman asks. “We can leave?”

“There's a rule in this game that allows nonplayers to leave.” James says. “In each colony there's at least two exits in which civilians can use. Problem is, we don't know where they are.”

Someone does. They have to. Mallory glares over at him, as if to ask “did you really have to add in that last part?”

The woman raises the rifle back to James’ eye level. “So I just have to take your word? Is that it?”

“Kei-sensei!" Says a girl, about the age of nine. "It's Ryo! He's-” 

"He needs his inhaler." She says. "We left in such a hurry, I hadn't even realized he forgot it." Kei sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. She pauses, mouth pressing into a thin line, before looking up at James. “If you get me his inhaler, we’ll help you. Then you’ll help us leave, right?”

James grimaces at the thought of being sent on another fetch quest. But Mal, showing an uncharacteristic amount of pity, nods and smiles.

"We’ll get you guys out of this place," Mal says. "Pinky promise?"

[lokis-army-77]

If You Please

Chapter seven

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2693

I'm bad at writing descriptions, so this is basically a reader insert into The First Avenger and then we'll see how it goes from there.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, mention of blood

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Masterlist

A loud buzzer pierced through the silence as Steve and I made our way to the upper levels.

“Something tells me they know the prisoners are loose,” I commented, chucking a bit, but Steve wasn’t listening. He was busy watching a group of HYDRA guards that were just around the corner. I inched closer to his side so I could also get a look at what was going on.

The guards were walking two by two in our direction. From what I could see, there were probably twelve of them. Steve stepped back from the corner and so did I. He turned his head and looked over his shoulder at me.

“I’ll take half if you take the other half,” Steve suggested.

“Okay,” I agreed. I reached for the pistol on my right thigh and let out a long breath. “Let’s do this.”

Steve ran out of the hiding spot first, intercepting the guards. They stopped for a second when they saw him and then they all boulted to him at the same time. Steve was a blur of fist and shield while fighting off the men. Since they were all distracted with Steve, I walked out into the open with my arms held up ready to shoot. I took out three of the men before they noticed where I was. Three more started towards me and before I could get a clear aim on them I was grabbed from behind. I accidentally let off a shot as my arms were slammed down. The three guards made their way closer to where I was, one of them ripped the gun from my hands and tossed it.

“What’s this? The US is sending little girls to fight their wars now?” The guard said in a thick German accent. “If they keep this up we’ll win in no time.”

“I’ll have you know,” I started quietly, the guard came closer so he could hear me. “ I’m tougher than I look.” I reared my head back and quickly brought it forward into his nose. He stumbled backward into the two men behind him. When he looked up there was blood streaming down the lower half of his face. The guard that was holding my arms down held onto me tighter. I started to try and wiggle out but he just kept holding on. So, I lifted my right foot and brought my heel down hard onto his toes. He didn’t let go but I felt him move his legs to the left. I crouched a little, widening my stance, and swiped my left leg behind his. Then, I reached my arms around his legs, lifted him up, and threw him to the ground hard. The three other guards were around me in a flash, giving me no time to reach for the second pistol on my left thigh.

I got into a stance, ready to fight. I eyed them all closely, watching for any sign to tell me when they would come forward. The guard on my right stepped out first, throwing a punch, which I dogged by ducking down. I jumped back up and gave him a swift uppercut to the jaw. He flew backward into one of the large unfinished bombs. I turned on my heels and ran to the next guard I saw. I quickly dropped to the ground and slid beneath his parted legs. My hands reached out and pulled his legs out from under him. Coming to a stop I got up and punched him in the head to knock him out. The last guard came up behind me, grabbing my shoulder. He turned me around and got a good punch into my stomach. I stumbled backward but quickly regained balance. The guard came at me again, throwing another punch with his right hand. I stepped to the left, reaching out to slide my hands down his arm and grab onto his wrist. I pulled tight and then slid my left hand up and chopped him in the windpipe. He made a strangled noise as he fell to the ground.

I looked around for Steve and spotted him a few feet away, knocking down the last guard. I ran to him in a hurry. “Come on, more of them are coming.” He said as he grabbed onto my arm and pulled me with him up the stairs. As we came to the top another guard was standing there. Steve gives him a strong kick to the chest and he stumbles backward over the railing. We both start to run down the catwalk. In the end, we went right into a dark brick corridor with several doors. I walk over to the doors on the left and peer through the small glass windows. There was nothing of interest in the rooms besides a few chairs and medical gurneys. A little way down the hall a short man came stumbling out of an open door. He stops to stare at us and then begins to run down the hall in the opposite direction. We ran after him but when I got to the door the man came out of, I heard someone groaning.

“Steve, I think someone in here is hurt,” I shouted as I walked into the green-tinted room. I rounded the corner and saw a man strapped to some sort of contraption. He was muttering something that I couldn't quite understand. I felt Steve come in behind me as I made my way closer to the man. Upon getting closer I realized who it was. “Bucky,” I cried out, tears streaming down my face. I was so happy to have found him alive. “Oh God, what have they done to you?” I said as I gently grabbed his face, he had this blank look in his eyes like he wasn’t really there. I looked up at Steve as he began to rip the restraints off the gurney and free Bucky. Once Steve had undone the last restraint, I pulled Bucky up and he finally came out of his dazed state.

“How, how are you here? Is it really you?” Bucky asked, tears coming to his eyes. I reached up to push his hair out of his eyes and smiled, nodding furiously.

“It’s okay I’m here. I'm really here.” I cried and brought him in for a tight hug. Pulling away I just looked at him and he looked at me, it was like he was staring into my soul. I felt him bring his hands to my neck and pull me into his lips. He kissed me like he was starving like I was the only thing that would keep him alive. I kissed him back with the same desperation. I had thought I lost him and now he was back in my arms, I wouldn’t let him go again. I pulled away out of breath and rested my forehead on his, taking deep breaths in and out. “I’ve missed you so much.” “I missed you too Doll. I’m so glad to see you, but how are you,” His sentence was cut short when he noticed Steve standing off to the side. “Steve?”

“It’s me, Buck,” he whispered, walking closer. I moved over to the side so they could embrace. “I thought you were dead,” Steve stated, giving Bucky several pats on the back. Bucky pulled away from Steve and looked him up and down.

“And I thought you were shorter.” I laughed at what he said and shook my head. “What happened to you?”

“I joined the army,” Steve deadpanned.

I reached over to grab hold of Bucky’s hand as Steve helped him to his feet. He looked at me wide-eyed as if he had realized something. “Shit,” he muttered. “I just kissed you and Steve’s here.”

“It’s okay, he knows. We’ll talk about it later when I know you’re okay.”

“Guys we need to go now. It won't be long before someone comes down this way,” Steve said hurriedly. I helped him support Bucky and then we were off down the dimly lit hallway, back the way we came.

As we walked, Bucky slowly got his balance back and was able to walk on his own. I kept his hand tightly gripped in mine, in fear that I might lose him again. I felt him hold on tightly with his own hand and I knew he was afraid that if he let go I would disappear.

“So is this permanent?” Bucky asked as he stumbled a little over his feet.

“So far,” Steve let out a breath.

We had made it to the catwalk just as several explosions went off. Flames began to crawl up from the ground blocking our way and we climbed the nearby stairs to get out of range. Running along the metal bridge, we came to a sudden halt when someone yelled out, “Captain America!” Looking over to the left I saw Dr. Zola and Johann Schmidt at the opening of an elevator.

“I’m a big fan of your films. I see that Dr. Erskine managed to do it after all. It’s not that much of an improvement but I must admit it is impressive.” Schmidt commented. Steve slowly made his way across the adjacent catwalk towards Schmidt. When he was done talking, Steve swung his fist at him and hit Schmidt in the face. He stumbled backward but when he regained his composure I noticed that something was off. The skin around his left eye was drooping down, like a mask, revealing something bright red underneath, something that wasn't blood or muscle.

“Steve get back here, somethings wrong,” I yelled out at him over the roar of the flames. He ignored me. Schmidt threw his own punch at Steve, who brought the shield up to block. The punch made an imprint in the metal. Steve looked up in shock but was hit again, this time he was thrown back, knocking his gun out of his hand and into the fire below. I grabbed the pistol I had in my left thigh holster and brought it up, ready to shoot. Schmidt came closer to Steve, who grabbed hold of the railing to propel him into a strong kick. The force of it sent Schmidt flying backward. As the two of them picked themselves up, the catwalk began to separate in the middle.

“No matter all the lies that Erskine has told you, I was always his greatest success.” Yelled Schmidt and he proceeded to raise his hand to the bottom of his face and pull it off like a child’s Halloween mask. The face underneath was horrifying, like all the flesh had been taken away and all that was left underneath was just a red skull.

“Steve, I think we really need to go now.” another explosion went off as I spoke.

“You are deluded, Captain. You are pretending to be a simple soldier but deep down you know that you’re just afraid to admit that we both have left humanity behind. You need to embrace it, as I have. I show it proudly.” Schmidt proclaimed as he and Zola made their way into the elevator.

“Then why are you running?” called out Steve, but he didn’t answer, the doors to the elevator were already closing. I looked around for a way out and spotted a door on the other side of the building a few floors up.

“I think I found a way out, we have to go up.” I put my pistol away and reached for Bucky's hand again to pull him up the stairs with me.

We made it to the top in a matter of minutes. I looked out over the banister to the ground below. The fire had gotten out of control and more explosions were going off every minute. The explosions shook the whole building, including the not-so-sturdy-looking gantry.

“We’ll have to go one at a time, It won't hold all of us at once. I'll go first since I’m the lightest.” I swung my legs up and over the banister and planted my feet on the narrow beam. I slowly inched my way across, never looking down so I wouldn't lose my balance. When I reached the other side I climbed over the railing onto the sturdy ground. I turned around and watched as Bucky made his way across next. The gantry started to move more as he made his way into the middle. “Bucky you’re going to have to run,” I held my hands out over the railing in hopes that when he got to me I could help pull him over. He nodded to me with a determined look and started to quickly limp his way over. The end of the gantry started to fall and Bucky pushed off of it into the railing where I caught him and pulled him over to safety. We both looked at one another and then over to Steve who now had no way of getting over to us.

“There’s got to be a rope or something.” Yelled Bucky.

“No, both of you go. Hurry and get out of here.” Steve yelled back.

“No. Not without you.” Both Bucky and I called out desperately. Steve gave us both a look and then started to bend the broken rails away to make an opening. He looks at the large gap and backs up. He takes three running steps and then leaps into the air. I watch in amazement as Steve barely makes it to our side of the gap. Bucky and I both reach over the railing to pull him up.

“One day Steve, you’re going to get yourself killed.” I scolded him. “Let's go, we’ve still got to meet up with the rest of the freed soldiers and there's not much time before this whole thing comes crashing down.” All three of us make our way to the door behind us and hastily make our way down the several flights of stairs.

Making our way outside, we were met with no resistance at all. The guards had all seemed to have disappeared. The area looked like a good fight had taken place, many of the tanks and other vehicles had been destroyed. I spotted a set of tank tracks that led to where the fence had been broken, we all followed them into the woods. I suspected that either a group of our soldiers stole it or HYDRA had gone after the men that had escaped.

Coming up on the clearing we saw the whole group of soldiers celebrating their freedom, and as we made our way out of the tree line they all stopped and looked over at us. Then after a pause, they all started clapping and cheering. Their excitement and praise made me smile. I was thankful to have been able to rescue them, my feansé, and come out alive with Steve.

Finally, being out of the dangers of the exploding HYDRA base, I turned to Bucky and gave him a tight bear hug. We stood there for several moments in the tight embrace swaying from side to side.

“I’m so glad to have you back with me safe and sound,” I whispered into his shoulder.

“I’m glad too. I thought I’d never see you again. Now, are you gonna tell me what you’re doing here?” he said seriously.

“It’s a long story, I’ll tell you on the way back to base camp.” I nervously giggled a bit.

“Okay everyone, let's get moving on. Basecamp is several miles away and if we want to be there by morning we have to leave now.” I heard Steve order out. Bucky and I made our way to where Steve was at the front and we started to lead the men into the woods.

“What about the transponder Peggy gave you, can’t we use that?” I question Steve.

He looked over at me with a curious look, before he said, “I may have dropped it somewhere in the base.”

I made a loud huff, “well I guess we have a long walk ahead of us.”

Tag list: @ginger-swag-rapunzel @underc0vercryptid-reads @geek-and-proud @intothesoul @leyannrae

[starlit-serenade]

Dance With Me | Chapter 1

💙 Summary: After visiting the members of ONEUS during their dance practice, you find yourself inspired to learn to dance. You ask your friend Kim Geonhak to teach you.

💙 Chapter 1: 2,386 words

💙 Pairing: Reader x Kim Geonhak (Leedo) / Characters: GenderNeutral!Reader; Kim Geonhak (Leedo); Son Dongju (Xion); Yeo Hwanwoong (Hwanwoong); Lee Keonhee (Keonhee); Lee Seoho (Seoho); Kim Youngjo (Ravn);

💙 Rated: T for some minor swearing / Warnings: Minor Swearing, Jealousy (Later in the fic) / Genre: Fluff, Minor Angst (Later in the fic), Friends-To-Lovers, Happy Ending;

《 Series Masterlist // ONEUS Masterlist // Boy Group Masterlist 》

You knock on the door of the dance studio, carrying a bag of take-out in one hand and your phone in the hand that knocked on the door. You had earlier texted the group chat to alert the boys that you were on your way with lunch, and Youngjo responded with an "okay" and series of emojis.

The door opens, and you are met with Youngjo, smiling brightly at you with his phone in hand. You can see the other five members behind him, all staring in your direction while sitting on the floor. 

"Hey Y/N!" Dongju calls out before Youngjo can say anything, waving at you.

Dongju is the closest to your age in the group, the member you had befriended five years ago, before ONEUS's debut. He had been the one to introduce you to the rest of the group.

"Hey Dongju," you say, waving back. "Hey everyone!" Youngjo opens the door to let you enter the practice room. Keonhee grabs the plastic bag of takeout from your hand, sets it down on the floor, and starts taking the food out, while Geonhak, who was sitting closest to the door, quickly stands up and helps you get your coat off and folds it to set it aside for you.

"Thank you," you say to Geonhak. "It's raining outside."

"I can tell," Geonhak says, laughing. "Your hair is dripping. I should come with you next time to help you bring us food."

"What song were you guys practicing?" you ask, sitting down between Dongju and Geonhak. Geonhak sits down in his spot, helping Keonhee set all the food up.

"We were practicing A Song Written Easily," Seoho says. You sigh, smiling softly, thinking of the pretty song, which came out about three months ago. You've always admired the music, the raps, the vocals, the choreography of the song. It might not be your favorite song, but it is still a masterpiece.

"Oh, I've always wanted to learn that choreography," you say dreamily. "It's always so pretty to watch and rewatch your performances."

"You watch our performances?" Geonhak asks, turning to face you with an eyebrow raised, and you nod.

"Of course. I watch them almost every day, when I have time. I'm your friend, I want to support my friends," you say.

"Y/Nie, that's so sweet," Youngjo says.

"The choreographies are so pretty, I've always wanted to learn them," you continue.

"We could teach you sometime!" Hwanwoong says cheerfully. "Which choreographies do you want to know most, Y/Nie?"

"Oh gosh, I don't know. A Song Written Easily or Valkyrie, probably," you say. If you were to be honest, you would have listed every single one of their songs with choreographies, but that would be unrealistic.

"We still have practice for another two hours after our lunch break, you can watch us practice if you want," Geonhak suggests.

You nod, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

After the boys have finished eating the food you brought them--Dongju gave you a bit of his food--you hang out with them for half an hour.

"What choreographies do you know already, Y/N?" Seoho asks.

"Mostly girl group choreos," you say shrugging. "Especially because TWICE's and SNSD's songs are so catchy. I know a few Pentagon and BTS choreos."

"Oh? Do you know the choreo of Pentagon's Shine?" Seoho asks, and you nod. "Show us."

While he plays Shine from the speaker, the two of you do the choreography together while the others watch, laughing, clapping and singing along. After you've finished, you're sweating and panting. Seoho  as a K-Pop idol, is used to this workout. You, on the other hand, are not a K-Pop idol. You can barely call yourself athletic. Of course you're out of breath from doing the shoot dance.

"Good job," Seoho says, patting your back as you sit back down next to him. "You would make a good trainee."

Geonhak nudges you, and offers me an unopened plastic water bottle.

"Thank you," I say, taking it and downing the water.

"Y/N, what other choreos do you know?" Hwanwoong asks. An idea pops into your head, and you stand up on achy, tired legs.

"Just one. Let me get my phone out," you say, opening your phone and opening YouTube. You start typing in the search bar, 'Leedo 5G'.

The music starts playing, and the members except Geonhak and Youngjo start laughing, before getting to their feet and joining you in the dance. Hwanwoong and Seoho imitate the deep voice while Dongju, Keonhee and you just imitate the dance. Geonhak is pretending to cover his eyes as he laughs in embarrassment. Youngjo is laughing while watching, mouthing along with the song.

After the song ends, you all sit back down in your spots next to Geonhak, laughing off your joy and amusement.

"I should have quit all those years ago," Geonhak murmurs, but he can't hide his smile from you. "I hate you all."

The boys resume their practice of A Song Written Easily. They move in sync, their footsteps echoing off the walls as they dance. You're seated with your back against the wall, your computer on your lap for work.

After about half an hour, you set your computer aside and watch the boys practice. They move so beautifully, you can tell it takes years of hard work and passion.

You've sat in on many of their practices within the past few years, but they still never fail to make you smile. It's like watching a painter work on their work in progress. You know it's going to be a masterpiece in the end, but there's a strange joy or honor in watching them create and perfect the piece. You see the piece when it's nothing, when it's a masterpiece, and everything in between.

After they've finished practicing, they all wander around the room, wiping sweat off of their foreheads and grabbing at their water bottles, talking about plans for after practice. Youngjo, Keonhee and Seoho are talking on the other side of the room, while Dongju and Hwanwoong are messing around in the corner. Geonhak, sweating, walks toward you. You grab Geonhak's bottle, the closest to you against the wall, and hand it to him as he approaches.

"Ah, thank you," he says, smiling gently as he sits down next to you. You admire his figure. He’s so large. His dark hair sticks to his forehead, and his skin glistens with sweat. He dabs away at his neck and cheeks with a towel. "What?" he asks you, eyebrows furrowed in a frown.

"Huh?"

"You're staring," Geonhak murmurs, just barely loud enough for you to hear, but not loud enough for the others to hear while milling about the practice room. You blink before looking away, but you can hear him laughing gently.

"Hey Geonhak," Youngjo calls out, drawing Geonhak's attention away from you before you can even think of a response. "The rest of us have to quickly help Seoho re-record for a song, come with us."

"Okay. We'll be back soon, Y/N," Geonhak says, waving goodbye. You wave back, smiling as he closes the door behind him.

You stay in the room alone, glancing at yourself anxiously in the large mirror, which stretches from floor to ceiling, end to end of the wall and curves somewhat to the adjacent walls. It probably helps the members watch their stance from more than one angle when they practice. 

After a moment of considering what you can do to fill the silence, you push yourself to your feet and stand in the center of the room, in front of the mirror. You think back to the start of the A Song Written Easily choreography, and absentmindedly stand sideways in Geonhak's position.

You sigh, walk over to your computer and place it in front of the room, so that it’s set up against the mirror with the Weekly Idol Leedo clip of A Song Written Easily playing on full screen as you clumsily attempt to copy Geonhak's movements. You find it's not as easy as he always makes it seem, his movements confident and intentional and elegant, while your movements are stiff, clumsy and awkward, and you almost fall over several times.

How does he keep his balance? you wonder, frustrated as you restart the song for the fourth time, despite having only gotten twenty seconds into the song.

This time, you clumsily make it all the way up to the start of Geonhak's rap verse, about thirty seconds into the song. At the sound of his voice, you freeze up, watching in awe. His moves aren't elegant and flowy during his rap, but they're intentional and beautiful nonetheless. His body control is impressive.

Because he's a dancer.

"Wow . . ." you murmur. You wait until after his verse has ended to restart the song and try again.

You follow his moves as closely as you can, but you end up stumbling getting lost.

"Ah, damn it . . ."

"You're a bit ahead of the beat."

Startled, you whip around at the sound of a familiar deep voice, and Geonhak is standing at the back of the room. He’s leaning against the wall, a pleasant smile on his face as he watches you.

"I, uh, what? I mean--I'm sorry?" Your words come out in a jumbled mess as you bend down to pause the music.

"During Dongju's part, you lose your balance and move a bit too fast. You get lost right before Keonhee's part. I recommend you slow the song down to half speed when you practice at home."

You stare at him blankly.

"You're doing my part," he remarks.

"Yeah," you reply dumbly, ducking your head. Hopefully he hasn't noticed you blushing and smiling like an idiot. You're not used to people watching you do things, and you're not much of a dancer. You wonder how long he's been watching you. "Aren't you supposed to be with everyone helping Dongju record?"

Geonhak shrugs. "Thought you might be lonely. So I thought I'd check on you."

"Oh."

"Do you want help with the choreo?"

You shake your head. "That’s okay. You must be tired from practice. Maybe some other time, Geonhak."

"I'm not that tired. Try it again, I can direct you." He moves to sit in front of you, back against the mirror with your computer on his lap so you can see the screen. He starts the song over again.

You try the dance again, feeling how his eyes follow you as you move as he plays the song for you. He calls out to you as you dance, firmly but gently so as not to distract you too much. "You're rushing, slow down a bit. Step. Step. Step. There you go."

His deep voice is calming, you think. Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn’t. But right now, it is. You follow his instructions, going through the first half of the first verse twice. You stop just as his rap begins, and he pauses the music, standing up from where he sits.

"Good job, you're improving. You need to relax your muscles. And bend your knees a bit more at the beginning, like this." Geonhak demonstrates, humming the song as he moves. You watch him dance, mesmerized, not paying as much attention to the moves as you should be.

"Y/N, are you even paying attention?"

You blink, coming back to your senses. "Oh, yes. Your dancing is amazing," you say, and Geonhak smiles shyly, glancing around the room. He is easily made shy.

"Ah, thank you."

"Geonhak?"

He looks back at you, face serious once more, but he's still smiling a bit. "Yes?"

"Could you . . . could you please teach me how to dance?" you ask. "I've wanted to dance so much, but it's so hard to in my free time, plus I'm not good at teaching myself this stuff. I know you're a busy man, so you can say no, but would mean a lot if you could teach me."

Geonhak blinks at you, brow furrowed. Not in anger but in confusion. At the same time, his eyes are wide and his cheeks are a bit pink. "Me? Y/N, I'm not the best dancer on the team. I'm a dancer but . . . maybe Hwanwoong or Seoho would be better teachers?"

You shake your head stubbornly. "Other than Dongju, you're the member I'm the closest to. I'm much more close to you than I am to Hwanwoong and Seoho. I'm kind of too nervous to ask them. Besides, when you were guiding me earlier, it really helped me."

After a moment, he smiles. "Alright, I'll teach you to dance."

You look up happily. "Really?"

Geonhak laughs, nodding. "Yes, I'll teach you to dance. But not today, I'm too tired. Here's a plan. What if I teach you twice a week, after ONEUS practices. You can use this practice room whenever you need, though."

You nod. "Yes, absolutely."

"I'll also be giving you 'homework' too. You need to exercise and stretch, you need to practice on your own. Alright?"

"Alright."

The door bursts open, and in walk the rest of the members. Youngjo, Keonhee and Hwanwoong are discussing something about the recording, while Dongju and Seoho are play wrestling, Dongju trying hard to bite at Seoho's finger.

"Oh, there you two are," Youngjo says, smiling.

"How'd the recording go?" you ask.

"It went well. It's hard to get it just right, but I think we might have gotten it right this time. If not, it was definitely close."

"That’s good to hear."

Youngjo glances from you to Geonhak, then back at you. "What were you two up to?"

"Geonhak was helping me try the A Song Written Easily choreography," you say. Youngjo opens his mouth to speak when a yell pierces through the air, echoing off of the walls, startling you, Youngjo and Geonhak. You turn to find that Dongju has finally managed to bite Seoho's finger, and you laugh.

How lucky you feel, that you befriended Son Dongju and Dongmyeong all those years ago. Otherwise you wouldn't be friends with all of the people in this room with you. And your joy isn't because you're friends with all these famous idols. No, it's because you're friends with all these silly goofballs.