#two story window treatment ideas

[offictionandfandoms]

Hii, can I request an angsty fic with Eddie Munson, where he overhears Jason saying the reader (Eddie's secret gf) and him kissed and he believes it. So he ignores the reader and is a bit mean and the reader is sad and hurt when she finds out the reason. I'm not sure if I want it to end in fluff or not, so I will leave that to you.

✎﹏﹏ Rumors pt. 1

Next

✑ Pairings: Eddie Munson x f!reader

✑ Word Count: 4152

✑ Warnings: I don’t think there is any. Just angst and silent treatment. But let me know if I missed any!

✑ Authors Note: I’m sorry it took me a while to write this! I hope you like it, though, and it lives up to your expectations. Thank you for requesting it!! ♡

✑ Gif isn’t mine!

If someone were to watch the two for long enough and with a close eye, they would have noticed the sneaking glances Y/N Y/L/N and Eddie Munson shared as they passed each other in the hallways, or in the lunchroom, or even in class. They were always finding some way to look at each other, a silent acknowledgment of their presence— and their love— no matter where they were. No one noticed, anyway, so it didn’t matter and the couple persisted with the limited amount of public recognition and displays of affection. It wasn’t Y/N’s idea for them to be secretive about their relationship, but she also didn’t push Eddie on the matter; she understood where he was coming from.

As a school tutor, the one that most people, popular group included, sought out and paid for, Y/N had her own little business to protect. One that Eddie insisted would take a hit if they were to become public; “Since when were you such a businessman?” She had asked when he had first brought it up and he just shot her a charming smile and a “since your business was at stake.” She didn’t question anything after that, how could she? He was far too cute and she had to admit, his logic was sound. The moment word got out about them seeing each other, she knew a lot of people would suddenly find another tutor— or offer her less money. She wasn’t happy about it, no, but it did enable her to save up some money, especially so that she and Eddie could take a small vacation this summer, something that he was saving up for, too. Then after they went on their trip, they could be as public as they wanted.

It had been a good couple months since they started this secret relationship, making sure not to tell anyone and sneaking into each other’s houses late at night, giggling at almost being caught quite a few times. It had been hilarious watching Eddie try to scale her two story house to get into her window. All in all, it was going as amazing as could be expected when you weren’t allowed to run up to your partner in public and give them a kiss in front of everyone— but they were happy and that was what mattered the most.

Or Y/N thought, at least.

It was nearing lunchtime, the closest one could get to peace within a school day, when Y/N first noticed something going on. She noticed his mop of hair first thing as she entered the cafeteria, her heart skipping a beat and her trying to hide a grin that threatened to take over her face. It was nearly impossible to do, though. It always was. Eddie had been in front of her in the lunch line and, unlike usual, he didn’t do his casual lunchroom sweep to see where she was. He seemed intently focused on something and within a few moments, Y/N had located what, or better yet, who. Jason Carver stood a few people in front of Eddie, surrounded by his usual group of jocks, all of which was laughing unnecessarily loud, slapping Jason on the shoulder, and then glancing back to Y/N. She was still wearing the same smile that had formed from seeing Eddie, one that Jason returned rather quickly. Though she was confused on why their attention was directed to her and even more so when they delivered another round of slaps to Jason’s shoulders. Though nothing made her as confused as when Eddie looked back at her smiling face, his own morphing from disbelief to anger, and then storming away. The door would’ve slammed behind him had someone else not walked in, grabbing it right before it hit the frame, throwing looks back at Eddie, undoubtedly whispering some harsh words.

The call of her name was enough to bring her back into the present moment, worry gnawing at her heart and indecision at her brain: she couldn’t run after him without exposing everything, but her business was less important than his feelings. She didn’t get much time to think about it anymore before a hand was wrapped around her wrist and her body was being hauled forward. Jason was still grinning down at her as he settled her in line with him, ignoring the complaints of the hungry students behind them she had skipped.

“I did it.” He said with no further explanation. Y/N was a smart girl, whatever he was talking about should have clicked rather quickly, but she felt her mind blank of everything except Eddie. Her dumbstruck expression was enough for Jason to continue, “Well. Thanks to your help,” at this, his boys howled with laughter and passed each other knowing looks that once again sailed over her head, “I passed Mr. Hindleston’s exam.” At this, Y/N remembered exactly what he was talking about. He had been seeing her for a few days now to study for the test, seeming real worried that if he failed, his basketball career was in jeopardy. She thought that was an exaggeration, there was no way the coach would bench him, but she still felt pity— and maybe some excitement at the money he was offering— so she had cancelled on some dates with Eddie last week to really focus on this. She had told Eddie this, though, he knew who she was tutoring and he hadn’t been the slightest bit upset over it.

“Oh! That’s amazing, Jason! I knew you could do it, I’m so proud of you.” And she was, genuinely. He, despite acting like an ass most of the time in school, especially towards her boyfriend, had really been trying the few sessions they had together. And she knew firsthand how difficult Mr. Hindleston’s exams could be.

She hadn’t realized her eyes had wandered over the occupants of the cafeteria again until Jason slung an arm around her shoulder, jarring her back to him, “I could’ve never done it without you, N/N. How about you sit with us today? A little repayment for all you’ve done.” His friends behind him were leaning forward, all with expectant expressions and goofy grins.

They lost it in another round of laughs and high-fives when she responded with: “You’ve already paid me plenty.” He had paid her a bit extra money for all her time and cancelled plans, but that didn’t explain why his friends were acting like it was the greatest thing they’ve ever heard. Or why he was turning back to them with a mocking “Sh”, but it meant he had released her from his grip so she didn’t complain much.

“Oh, c’mon, I insist. Just for today?” He asked as he turned back to her, adding the charm on thick. She had started to shake her head, lips parting in a rejection. But before she could, he was shoving an empty lunch tray into her hands, “I’ll save you a seat.” The rest of the boys brushed past her, quickly making work of what they wanted on their trays while she just stood there, entirely lost. She was still concerned about Eddie, who still hadn’t made an appearance, and now she had to worry about Jason acting odd, his friends even odder.

“Hey, hurry up!” Someone behind her complained, slightly sticking the edge of their tray into her back so she moved forward. She was half aware of what she got from the food options, knowing she probably wouldn’t eat any of it.

She was right: she barely touched her food. Between Jason’s friends’ boisterous laughter, Jason himself trying to whisper things in her ear (which she soon picked up was more for the benefit of his friend’s humor than it was to talk to her) and her constantly searching for Eddie amongst the crowded room (which she had to lie about when Jason asked who she was looking for, saying just another student she tutors), she wasn’t in the mood to eat. She couldn’t run fast enough out of the cafeteria when the bell rang, signaling another class.

Despite being really good at the class, she hated it, the only good part about it was that she had it with Eddie. Who, for some reason, didn’t show up for that class, or their final one together, nor was Y/N able to find him in the halls in between. It was like he had entirely vanished. There was only one place Y/N hadn’t looked for him and she had to wait around in the library after the final class ended as students funneled out of the school and then she was able to slip inside the drama room, where Hellfire Club took place.

Right where she thought he’d be was Eddie, bent over a folder and furiously scribbling in it with a pencil. He didn’t even look up when she entered, but she knew he knew that she was there. No one could miss the heavy door swinging shut. The brief relief she felt when finding him was soon washed away.

“Eddie?” She addressed him just as she would anyone, not wanting her voice to carry out into the hallway if she called him something more personal. Though, when he still didn’t acknowledge her presence, she inched forward, eyebrows furrowing, “Babe?”

“I’m working.”

Now, Y/N was used to Eddie getting lost in planning campaigns and not paying attention to her or anyone— she knew it wasn’t personal. He simply got too caught up sometimes. But this was different. His voice held a hint of anger, like he was going to snap at any moment. Much like the pencil he held tightly in his hand, not moving an inch on the paper anymore, but still caught in the pressure of his grip.

She didn’t know what to do. He was obviously angry and had been since lunch, but she didn’t know what had set him off. She didn’t know how to handle his anger when it was directed at her— it had never been before. “What are you working on? Can I see?” She had thought that distracting him from the issue for a moment would help him take a breath, but instead, he closed the folder with a snap before she could peek over his shoulder, throwing the pencil haphazardly on the table, where it bounced and rolled off. She jumped back at the sudden movement of him standing up, shoving his seat back away from him.

He didn’t even look her way as he left the room. He didn’t offer her a small glance, or a smile, or even a whispered explanation. He just left and she stood there, watching as she felt her throat burning with the need to cry. Instead of allowing herself to break down over something she wasn’t certain of, she went to grab the pencil off the floor so no student would trip over it.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Over the next few days, holding back the tears was growing progressively harder. Silent treatment was an excruciating thing to experience when you desperately wanted to talk to someone, and Y/N’s mind was a never ending series of ‘what if’s’, none of them ending on a positive note.

The day after the lunchroom incident, she had tried to talk to him once again after giving him the entire night and day to cool off. But as she walked into the room of Hellfire Club, he had simply told her that it was club night and she needed to leave.

“What? Hellfire doesn’t start for another hour.” Silence was her answer, him suddenly acting very interested in setting up the game pieces and his folder, “Eddie, what’s going on? Talk to me, please. I can’t fix things if you won’t tell me what needs fixing.”

“The only thing that you need to fix is yourself. You are not in Hellfire, you don’t belong in this room. Go before someone shows up.” That was the first crack in the dam that held back her tears, though he didn’t look her way to notice how her eyes suddenly glistened.

“I’ve been in here plenty of times. You love showing me the set up. You love filling me in on the game.” If the crack in her voice wasn’t a give away to the fact she was about to cry, the fact that she was only seeing blurs was. Her throat was burning once more, her heart clawing at the inside of her chest as it raced against her brain, which was scrambling for an explanation to all of this. Last week he had been holding her in his arms beneath a starry sky, hidden in some abandoned parking lot so no one would spot them. Now he couldn’t even look at her.

She could barely make out the way Eddie tensed his shoulders, like he was preparing for an epic blow in the final campaign of the game. Like everything was about to be made or broken and he had to steel himself for whatever came next. “Things change, Y/N.”

The second crack ran deep, a single tear slipping from her eye before she could stop it. She wiped it away just as quickly. The silence hung between them for a few moments as she managed to take a few deep shuddering breaths to regain her composure, though when she did speak, her voice still cracked as it snuck past the painful lump lodged in her throat. “This isn’t funny, Eds. Come on. Tell me who this is, or this? What’s that mean?” She started firing off questions at him, grabbing random figurines and pointing to words in the folder that she definitely knew but was hoping for him to explain anyway. She had always loved listening to him talk, and he had always loved explaining DND to her.

“Leave, Y/N.” He didn’t wait for her to start objecting again before he was gently pushing at her shoulder, leading her back towards the door. He didn’t meet her eyes the entire time, keeping them directly ahead towards the wall. She heard the door opening behind her but didn’t realize that he had literally pushed her into the hallway until she saw the door start to close back.

She jumped forward, grabbing at the last straw that she could, one that would be cut in half if the door clicked back into place. “Wait! Am I, like, banished now or something?” She attempted the joke, twirling the invisible string around her finger, hoping to pull a smile from Eddie, anything to let her know it was all okay. She hoped he would open up the door, laugh and hold his arms out for her to run into like he did every time he successfully climbed through her bedroom window.

But the thing with hope is that failure always hits a lot harder afterward. The string of hope she had desperately clung to crumbled from her hand, falling to the floor beneath her as he finally met her gaze, saying a simple, “yes,” and then shut the door. She stared at it for a few moments, waiting for it to open back up for her. It never did. It wasn’t until she heard chatter coming down the hall did she finally turn and leave, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes never leaving her shoes. The last thing she wanted was to be stopped for a chat or a tutoring question. She had questions of her own that were waiting for answers.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Over the weekend, she had attempted to call him numerous times, losing count after she crossed over into the twenties. She knew it was annoying, but she had to talk to him. She needed to know what had happened between them, what had made him push her away.

He never answered.

The one time his uncle had answered, she could barely make out a muffled “tell her I’m not here” coming from Eddie. She had hung up before his uncle could deliver the lie.

She had even drove over to his place but to no avail. Either he truly wasn’t home this time or he wasn’t answering the door. But as she turned her car back onto the main road, she thought she saw a light flick on in his windows.

Despite her heart hanging heavy within her chest, she still carried on with tutoring, though her usual excitement and encouragement had taken a hit. It was worse when she’d stuff the money into her piggy bank, seeing what she had saved for a trip she felt now wouldn’t happen. She almost wished he would break up with her already so she at least had some form of an answer to her endless plague of questions. But he wouldn’t even talk to her long enough to say those simple words and save her the self-inflicted heartbreak she’s been egging on since this fight first started.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

On Tuesday, after being ignored for all of Monday and until the end of classes this day, she decided she wasn’t going to take it anymore. To hell with her tutoring, she thought as she marched right up to Eddie in the hall, halting his conversation with his favorite prodigy, Dustin. He seemed shocked as he looked at her but he quickly hide that expression behind indifference, raising an eyebrow at her as he waited for her to speak. This was the furthest she’s gotten with him in days so she took it in stride.

“I don’t know what’s happening, what I’ve done, but-“ Just as quick as she had his attention, she lost it. He looked past her for a brief moment, his jaw ticking in anger, but then slowly he met her stare once more. But she had saw it. She saw the jaw tick. She saw how his fingers curled into little fists at his side. She saw how the indifference wavered and let anger shine through. And when she turned to see what had caused it, she spotted Jason, leaning against her locker with his little friends in tow. They were all watching her with interest, Jason looking like he was about to head over and see what was happening.

“What-“ She started again as she turned back to Eddie, but her brain was suddenly grabbing at strings to tie together, fitting pieces of a puzzle into place. “Oh my god. You think I slept with Jason.” She couldn’t help but to laugh at first— it was preposterous. Her and Jason? Never. Not in a million years. Eddie jealous? As if anyone could ever catch her attention after him.

But her laughter cut off as she noticed Eddie not laughing, but instead watching her with the same blank stare he had been giving her for days. “Oh my god. You think I slept with Jason.” She repeated, the statement now holding a more hurtful meaning behind it. He wasn’t jealous. He fully believed she had slept with him. All those times she had told him she was tutoring Jason so they’d have to postpone their dates, he thought she was cheating. That hurt worse than the fight itself. Because the resounding meaning behind all of it was that he didn’t trust her. And he didn’t care enough to try to talk it out. He was okay with not speaking to her and keeping this image of her inside his mind, despite the months of her worshiping him and telling him how she loved him. He didn’t care to try to fix it. He didn’t know her enough to know she would never cheat, especially not with Jason.

She backed up a bit then, the realization hitting her like a blow. All those months of her trusting him with every secret, every thought, every feeling, was entirely one sided. Because she would never have accused him of something so ridiculous, not without listening to his side. Yet he had wasted no time in latching onto a rumor that painted her as some heinous whore. That was the third crack.

But the fourth was the final hit: “I don’t need your tutoring services anymore, Y/N. You’re free for other clients now.” It was the one that had her taking another step back, accidentally colliding with a random body. The hand on her waist didn’t register until Eddie scoffed, shooting her a look as if to say ‘was I wrong?’

It suddenly felt like she couldn’t breathe, like everyone was staring at her. She wasn’t crying, and she couldn’t understand why. She felt like the rug had been pulled out from beneath her feet, she was free falling through the air and no one was catching her. No one was even trying except for herself, who was trying to cling to any semblance of normalcy and stability. But it was a fruitless fight. Jason was spreading a rumor that she had slept with him, apparently. Which made his behavior in the lunchroom make more sense. But it had gotten back to Eddie.

Eddie, her sweet Eddie. The boy who swung her over a puddle of water so she wouldn’t get her shoes wet, the Eddie who snuck into her bedroom with an expired can of soup when she felt sick, and then apologized for the next hour after she told him it was expired. The boy who didn’t care enough to figure out the truth behind the situation, who ignored her for days and then broke up with her in such a way that no one else could understand except her. But she did understand. That was the breakup she had been waiting for, yet she didn’t shed a tear. Her skin held goosebumps all over and she felt like she was two seconds away from losing the ability to hold herself up.

She barely processed it as she pushed away from Jason, who was trying to talk to her while throwing insults towards Eddie, and headed to the girls bathroom, or when her back hit the door, preventing anyone from following in after her. She didn’t process the fact that she still wasn’t alone, either, and that a redhead was squatting down in front of her, asking if she was okay. She felt her head shake, she knew she wasn’t okay, but when her mouth opened to say that, she just started laughing like she had been in the hallway. Her brain was disconnected from her body at the moment, maybe a coping mechanism to keep her from panicking in a school bathroom. But the slight logical side of her that was staying intact knew it was too late for that.

“Y/N, right? I’m Max. Are you okay? Do I need to get someone?”

And for a slight second, she thought of him. She thought of asking this girl to go fetch Eddie, her boyfriend, the one who could calm her down. But then his angry face filled her mind, his coded breakup, and the laughter stopped. And she cried.

She cried for her reputation being tainted by Jason.

She cried for all the money she had saved for a trip that she was now 100% positive wouldn’t happen.

She cried for the fact that she only got to learn a few chords on Eddie’s guitar and would learn no more.

She cried for the months of her legs being scratched up by her crawling through his bedroom window. And for the shirt she ruined in the same activity.

She cried for the man who didn’t trust her.

She even cried for the feeling of anger she now felt towards him.

But she cried more for the anger she felt towards herself, for crying in the first place.

Max sat with her the entire time, not saying anything more, which Y/N was thankful for. It took her a few minutes to stop crying, even more so to catch a normal breath without her chest shuttering, and yet Max stayed sitting right beside her— maybe because she couldn’t get out of the door, but Y/N hoped it was because she was genuinely concerned and cared. She even helped her stand up on legs that had fallen asleep, laughing as Y/N shook them awake, and then helped her walk out into the hallway, heading straight to the front doors. She couldn’t bring herself to look around at all the faces lingering in the hallway, or the not-so sneaky glances being thrown her way by Eddie Munson.

She turned her attention to Max, who’s hair seemed brighter in the sunlight than it had in the harsh fluorescent bathroom lighting. “Hey, do you want ice cream? I just so happen to have quite a savings and could really go for some right now.”

Pt 2 here

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Whisked Away 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You get a job at a bakery but your new boss only adds to your work

Character: chubby!baker!Thor

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.

Delaney wishes you good luck as you go. Your heart is fluttery with nerves. It’s been a while since you actually had an interview. These days, most send you a link where you record yourself answering generalised questions. You never do well at those. In fact, you’d only ever had one job.  

You worked at a cafe in high school and after you went and got your culinary schooling done, you were promoted. It held you through the first few years of your twenties until Delaney got sick and you had to move to the city for her treatment. Your squirreled away savings got you the apartment and her stipend helped, but you’re running dry on credit. 

You need this. Desperately. But you can’t show that if you want it. You have to play it cool. Be a professional. 

You catch a streetcar down to the main row and check your phone. You’re well ahead of time. Good. You’ve never been to this particular place. You don’t go out much if it isn’t to the grocery store or the pharmacy. Delaney stopped wanting to go outside a while back. You try to encourage her but you can tell it only makes her feel worse. 

You follow the map directions on the app and stop before the cafe windows. They’re slightly tinted with curling golden calligraphy painted across them; Golden Crust. The facade is brown and yellow brick and there are flower boxes just below the windows. Behind the glass, loaves of bread lines a shelf, on display to tempt passerbys. 

The door is wide and thick and painted red. You push inside and pause to look around. The long counter is made of dark wood with clear glass cases on top containing dozens of colourful and sugary desserts. Behind the counter, the walls are lined with shelves; some ingredients, some with unfolded boxes, and more bread and packaged biscuits to go. It’s all finely organized. 

Lights hang above with brass shades, lending a low hue to the shop. Several customers wait in queue as two employees work tills at opposite ends of the counter. You don’t know whether you should join the wait or go ahead and let them know that you’re there to see Thor for an interview. That was his name, right? 

You look at your phone again. You have time. You wouldn’t want to be rude. You adjust your bag and stand at the end of the line. The women ahead of you marvel at the pristine mini white chocolate cakes with dark candied cherries on top as another whispers about cheesecake being devilish. Your own eyes wander gluttonously to the assortment. 

You peel away your gaze and look down at yourself. You put together the best you could; a striped blouse, navy blue on white, and a pair of straight-legged pants. They’re a bit outdated but professional at a glance. You hope no one notices the scuff on your right toe. 

You get to the front of the line and step up. The young girl behind the till asks what you’d like. You give an apologetic smile, “um, actually, I’ve got an interview.” 

“Ah, yes, another one for Thor,” she chimes, “well, you just come with me.” 

She’s young. Still a teenager. Her and the other cashier look to be barely graduated if that. 

She walks toward the end of the counter and she beckons you over, “I’m Thrud,” she pulls back the short little door for you to step through, “that’s Nari,” she gestures to the dark-haired worker at the other till. He’s too busy taking orders to notice. 

You introduce yourself as she takes you around to a doorway, “I think he’s just doing these in the kitchen. Last one ended early so...” she talks brightly as she bounds ahead of you like a happy puppy, “dad?” She calls as she enters the large kitchen. “Dad? I’ve got the next appointment.” 

Your anxiety spikes. You’re not the first or the last. The competition deflates your hopes even further. 

“Eh?” A deep grunt comes as head pops up from the other side of the large marble island. The man is so large his head hits one of the pans dangling from the ceiling rack. He rubs his brow and hisses, “sorry, I was just looking for my pen.” 

Thrud laughs as she crosses her arms. You notice the golden pen tucked behind his ear. She raises a hand, keeping her other arm folded, as she taps her temple. His brows arch and he feels around his wave locks and fishes out the pen. 

“Right,” he gives a sheepish look and wiggles it in triumph. 

“Anyhoo,” Thrud trills, “this is her.” 

“Thank you, Thrud,” he drones back. 

“Mhmm,” she turns and smiles at you again before she goes. 

“Uh,” you hesitate, unsure how to begin, “er,” you introduce yourself, once more “I have a resume on hand--” 

“No need,” he waves you off, “come, I try to keep these things straight to the point.” 

You near him and rest your hand on your bag, chewing your lip. 

“Wash your hands,” he directs you towards the sink, “you may put your things there.” He points to the empty counter on the other side of the deep metal sink. You put your bag there and scour your hands deliberately, taking your time as you scrub nails, knuckles, palms, every bit. You dry off on the towel he offers as you face him. 

“Here,” he gives you and apron, “would want you to make a mess. 

You tie on the apron as he turns and grabs a tray. There are half a dozen cookies on the sheet, some empty piping bags, nozzles, a bowl of icing and small tubes of food dye. You look between him and the cookies. 

“You may choose the design. You will decorate and I will ask questions, does that work for you?” 

“Um, sure,” you answer. It’s unexpected. “All six?” 

“All six,” he confirms and crosses his arms, making himself even broader. He is not only tall, but wide, and his apron does little to conceal his indulgence in sweets that gathers around his middle. 

“Okay,” you accept the challenge meekly. 

You step up to the marble island and take a moment. You twiddle your fingers nervously as you think. You don’t know what to do. You don’t want to go to simple. 

“Take your time, I’ll ask some questions and you can begin whenever you’re ready,” he assures, “so, you’re availability, it is flexibly? Our open ours are eight to six, but you are available on weekends?” 

“Yes,” you say as you set an idea in your head and read for the icing. You stir it with the wooden spoon, testing its consistency. “I have open availability most days.” 

“Most days?” He echoes. 

“Um, yes, I may have an appointment now and again.” 

“Oh, appointment?” 

“For my sister,” you explain, “but it wouldn’t get in the way, I'm sure.” 

You cringe. You’re already making yourself feel bad. 

“And so, you’ve had one previous role, what was included in that?” he asks. 

Only one... that can’t be good on paper. 

“I worked at a cafe. I was a barista for the first two years, then I was promoted to baker, and ended as assistant manager at the branch,” you explain as you fill one of the piping pages and fit the appropriate tip, “but I completed by culinary diploma while I was there.” 

“And after? What did you do? I see you’ve been out of work.” 

You’re quite as you lean over the cookies and start on the first one. Your idea is simple in premise but not in execution. Delaney loves to do cross-stitches, so that’s what you’ll do. First, the white grid and the lacing along the edges, then you’ll fill in the squares with all different colours to make the illusion of stitches. 

“I’ve been a caretaker to my sister,” you say quietly, “we only just moved here last year so I haven’t found much.” 

“And you would be able to work fulltime?” He asks. 

“Yes, she’s... she’s doing better now. I can do it,” you assure him as you keep your eyes on your precise lines. 

He’s quiet. You’re sweating. You just concentrate on the work. Maybe your answers aren’t the best but you hope your work is. You finish the crosshatching and look up. You find him watching your hands intently. As you pause, his blue eyes meet yours. He gives a smile. 

“Ha,” he scoffs, “my hands are too big.” He shows his thick fingers, “I can’t quiet get my lines that tight.” 

You nod and bow your head again. You’re not even done the first cookie. You have six to prove yourself. Six cookies to seal your fate. 

[iwanttolickthatcowboy]

fallout show rambles about Barb and the fandom's treatment of her.

look maybe I'm just falling in love again bc Coop has two hands but can we stop relentlessly hating on Barb? once again, you guys act like this season is a stand-alone game and that all the lore is right in front of you. when it's very much NOT. like watch Westworld then come back. this director will always pull punches and twists. it's not these grand lore-changing altercations, it's tiny windows of this story. Barb is a cog in the vault tec machine. yes, a high af cog and has say and power but she's still a cog. plus NO ONE OUTRIGHT SAID THAT VAULT TEC ACTUALLY DROPPED THE BOMBS. them SUGGESTING IT and being READY TO DO SO and HAVING ACCESS TO NUKES does NOT = them being the ones to actually push the button. we still don't KNOW WHO and most likely never will because it defeats the point of the series. but people act like she's the sole person to drop the bombs. She is the only person at vault tec. and I'm sick of it. you don't even give Bud this much shit and he OPENLY called the death of soldiers in war a "marketing error" I know for a fact that if it was vault tec, barb, Janey, and MAYBE coop would have been in a vault already. yes, she's secretive af but when push comes to shove, she wouldn't let the nukes launch when her daughter and ex-husband are actively out in the open. did none of you listen to their fight about the dogs??? she cares about her FAMILY. She is doing all of this because she does care. us learning that Vault tec had way more of a hand in the war than we thought does not equal the bombs being them. I have no idea how people got that logic. and then deciding to target all that rage onto Barb when Bud is also at fault. everyone in the tubes is at fault. vault tec as a WHOLE is at fault. stop hating one ONE WOMEN for the crimes of the whole corporation!!!

i swear to god if she was white you would call her a girlboss

[novaellla]

Neighbourly Troubles [Toji Fushiguro x Female Reader]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31155467/chapters/76989950

Summary:

[Toji Fushiguro x Female Reader] After a particularly shitty day at work you decide to treat yourself to a night out by yourself. However, the night quickly grows even worse, when your purse - including your apartment keys - are stolen. With nowhere else to go you find yourself sitting and waiting in front of the door to your flat - drunk and in a seriously shitty mood. The night takes yet another unexpected turn of events when you are suddenly faced with your attractive next door neighbour, Toji Fushiguro, who seems to be in an equally shitty mood as you are. Quickly the both of you find yourselves caught in a steamy argument and eventually end up entangled in each other's bodies...

Wordcount: 15,603

Chapters: 2/2

Tags: 18+, rough sex, top Toji Fushiguro, bottom reader, kinky, dirty talk, tattoos and piercings, porn with plot, neighbours

A/N: Head to AO3 for the full finished story. This is only Chapter 1. Chapter 2 is where the real fun happens.

Chapter One

With a swift swing of your hips, you kick the door shut behind you and throw your keys into the designated bowl on top of the dresser in the hallway. You manage to find the last of your nerves to properly hang your coat in the coat rack, the expensive cloth deserving this special treatment. Your shoes, however, aren’t so lucky; simply being kicked off and forgotten. The entire week was a nightmare. This day even more so. Rarely havey you had to work with such an incompetent team before. Even simple tasks apparently being too complicated for those idiots. The amount of overtime you had to work this week - solely to fix that plethora of avoidable mistakes - is nothing short of ridiculous.

“Thank fucking God it’s finally friday”, you say as you head straight for the kitchen. “One more day and I’d be on the news, wanted for several counts of manslaughter.” You fill yourself a glass of water and gulp it down in one go shortly after; the liquid making slight swooshing sounds in your empty stomach, as you move to your bedroom. The light silk of your sheets was neatly folded and awaited you with the silent promise of a much needed restful sleep. As much as you’d have loved to throw yourself into a deep slumber, you’re hungry. And in serious need of a hot shower.

You unbutton your navy blue blouse and throw it on top of the other dirty laundry, which was already spilling over the edges of the hamper. There’s no way you could put off doing the laundry any further, you really had to do it this weekend.  A soft sigh rolls over your lips. You absolutely hated doing the laundry.

Right as you’re about to unzip your black pencil skirt, you freeze; a slight shiver suddenly crawling up your back and causing the fine hairs on your arms to stand up. You feel like you’re being watched.  You turn your head and look out the window adjacent to you. Emerald green eyes pierce your own and then travel down - slowly. It feels almost as if you’re touched directly, heat spilling over your skin and finally pooling down in your lower stomach. You feel your core tightening, as a sly grin pulls at the corners of your neighbour’s mouth.

Ignoring the sensations that just washed over you, you straighten your back and take two steps towards the window. The green irises darken, the grin widens. “Seriously, whose bright idea was it to build this apartment complex in an H-shape? No privacy whatsoever”, you say to yourself as you pull the curtains shut, effectively ending the involuntary peepshow.

Toji Fushiguro - your neighbour. It hasn’t been long since he moved next door. Maybe three or four months, five at most, you weren’t really keeping track after all. From the few words you two have exchanged with each other, you learned basically nothing about the man who, not even a minute ago, was basically undressing you with his eyes. Though, there wasn’t even much to undress to begin with, as you’re currently only sporting a black and beige lace bra as well as your tight pencil skirt. You swallow, remembering how he was staring at you. Like you’re a delicious piece of meat. Toji Fushiguro is undoubtedly attractive. Tall and just as broad and a face so handsome it’s to die for. So far you’ve only seen him wearing long sleeved shirts or jackets, but you’re no fool, you’re practically certain that he’s packed with muscles from head to toe. Another shiver runs down your spine and you immediately shake your head, trying to push away the thoughts and images forming in your mind.

Ok, change of plans: You would take a shower and then whip up a quick meal to eat. After that you’re going to head out and look for a nice bar where you could spend the rest of the night, have a few drinks and maybe even find a possible suitor to spend the night with.  Toji Fushiguro might be hot, out of your league even, but he also gives you the creeps. You were not about to ruin your comfortable living situation, just because you couldn’t keep it in your pants and had to throw yourself onto your next door neighbour.

*

A low chuckle escapes Toji’s throat as he watches you close your curtains, a disdained look in your pretty little doe eyes. This wasn’t the first time he watched you - but it’s the first time you caught him. He takes another slow drag of his cigarette and keeps his eyes on the cream colored curtains in the opposing window. He’s able to catch another glimpse of your silhouette, slowly moving behind the thin fabric.

Toji has to admit, he was caught off guard when he saw you undressing. Each curve of your body and all that beautiful, unmarked skin, looking just about perfect to bite into. Until now he always took you for a boring prude. The business attire you always wear, while it was perfectly fitted, certainly gives off the impression of an unhappy secretary who hadn’t been fucked in ages and only cared about Excel sheets and detox drinks, at least to him. But that sexy dessous he saw you donning just a minute ago might just suggest something else entirely. Maybe he’s wrong about you?

Anyway, it doesn’t matter. He has a job to get done today, there’s no time for unnecessary distractions such as you - tempting as it might be.  Toji finishes his cigarette and turns back around to the assortment of weapons he has laid out on top of his bed. Time to get shit done.

*

Toji’s head is throbbing. His jaw, to be more precise. One of those motherfuckers had actually managed to land a hit on him. His right hand is occupied with carrying his large black weapons bag over his shoulder, so he reaches to touch his face with the other, feeling the slight swelling under his fingers. That’ll probably leave a bruise. Fucking great . “Bastard”, he mutters, scratching his neck. He wants to get out of these dirty clothes and take a shower already. His mood gets progressively worse with each step he ascends towards his flat on the fourth floor. The hit was a success - obviously it was. Toji never fails a mission. His asshole of a client, however, had managed to leave out some rather important details. Details which resulted in his battered jaw. Toji is pissed.

Well, at least the job pays good money. Toji takes another step in the pitch black hallway, when he suddenly halts. His eyes were used to seeing in the dark, so he quickly spots the familiar figure slumped in front of the door to apartment 7. Toji cocks an eyebrow. Now look what we have here . If it isn't his precious little next door neighbour with the nice pair of titts.

Suddenly the pain in his jaw is forgotten. Toji takes another silent step, as he finally reaches his floor. He looms over you like a shadow come to life - like an unspoken promise. You haven’t noticed him yet. Toji takes a few seconds to inspect you, lazily dragging his eyes across your body. Your back was pressed against your apartment door, legs pulled up towards your chest and your head resting on top of your knees. He can’t really make out what you’re wearing. A dress, maybe?

However, that still doesn’t explain why you’re sitting in the hallway in the middle of the night like a lost puppy. What time is it, anyway? No clue, he doesn’t wear a watch. Too much of a hassle.

Toji’s interest is piqued, so he closes the distance between you and him. His steps still not making a single sound on the stone floor. As he crouches down right next to you, he catches a whiff of something alcoholic. Whisky, probably. The familiar smell making his mouth water. An impressed smirk slides across Toji’s lips. He didn’t take you for the whisky kind of girl. Or for the type of girl to pass out drunk in front of her apartment door, for that matter. It seems his impression of you doesn’t live up to reality.

He licks his lips, the metal of his tongue piercing rubbing against his skin. Maybe this night held yet another surprise for him. This time a much more pleasing one than a punch to the face from someone who doesn't even know how to aim a gun correctly. Hahh, Toji enjoyed  rearranging that guy’s guts with his knife, how he begged.

Toji extends his hand towards you, halting just mere inches from your face, wondering whether his hands were still bloody or not. He quickly decides that he doesn’t actually give a fuck. This right here was a bad idea in and of itself, he should just ignore you. Usually he never messes with women he knows - too many drawbacks. But your unexpectedly sexy peepshow from earlier still has him entranced. So he might as well go all out and play it risky. If shit got out of hand he could just easily get rid of you and move on after all.

After making up his mind, Toji flicks your head. This is the first time he’s this close to you, the first time he touches you, your skin giving of a hypnotizing aroma. A dark grin spreads across his face as he watches your reaction, his eyes darkening.

You jerk out of your drunken slumber, when something rough suddenly touches your forehead. Blinking profusely, you find yourself still in the dark hallway you fell asleep in earlier. But this time you’re not alone. An audible gasp escapes your throat as you’re faced with none other than Toji Fushiguro. Right in front of you.

You can smell fresh sweat and cologne on him, an intoxicating mix of masculinity and sandalwood and rain. Dark and spicy - like forbidden nectar. The scent makes your mouth water. You swallow and subconsciously take another deep breath, this time catching a whiff of something else entirely clinging to him. Something you can’t really describe, something metallic, maybe?

His deep voice catches you off guard. The timbre of it reverberating through your body and making your stomach flutter. “Heya, sweetheart. Whatcha doin’ here at this hour?”, Toji asks. His tone doesn’t give away what he’s thinking, he seems to be amused at most. The situation suddenly settles in and you can feel your cheeks heating up - thank God it’s dark. You hadn’t planned to fall asleep here, you just wanted to wait until morning and then hopefully get a hold of the apartment complex’ janitor. The alcohol in your system must have made you drift off into a half asleep state without realizing.

Toji’s question pops up in your head again. You still haven’t answered him. “I-I was robbed”, you stammer. Bile and fury rising in your throat. “Some asshole stole my purse”, you add and grind your teeth, remembering what went down earlier tonight. You were on your way back from a bar called “ Sorcerer’s Temple ”, clinging to the arm of a particularly nice piece of man, when he suddenly dragged you into a dark alleyway, rammed his elbow into your stomach and ran off with all your belongings - including your phone and apartment keys.

Well, Toji certainly didn’t expect that answer. Sounds like your night was just as shitty as his, maybe even worse. “You ok?”, he asks, wanting to lift your chin to get a better look at you, but he fights off the urge to touch you further. “Yeah, just super tired”, you answer while you lay your head back and rest it against the door. Is it so wrong to want to go out and unwind? Why did that shit have to happen to you of all people? Now you’re stuck in this awkward situation with your neighbour. God knows what he’s doing here late at this hour anyway.

An idea forms inside Toji’s mind. Oh yes , this is going to be much easier than he thought it would be. “Wanna crash at my place? You can have the couch, pretty comfortable thing if you ask me.” Toji could easily pick your door in less than twelve seconds, but obviously he wouldn’t tell you that. Not because he didn’t want to frighten you, but rather because that would be no fun. He might as well take the chance and invite you over to his place and see for himself whether he’s wrong about you and you actually are more than a lame goody two-shoes.

Sleep over at his place? You really weren’t expecting that kind of an offer coming from the guy who oogled you up and down just a few hours earlier. And to be frank, you don’t take him for the awfully altruistic kind. Looking him up and down, you squint your eyes and furrow your brows, looking like you’re trying to solve a complicated riddle. Toji could practically see you weighing the possible pros and cons of his invitation. He cocks his head to the side a little, not willing to let you out of his sight just yet. The play of emotions on your face being way too entertaining for him to miss it. You take your sweet time with your answer. He already expects you to decline when a resolute look settles on your face. 

“You know what? Fuck it , I’ll sleep on your couch. Anything is better than the floor.”

A low chuckle erupts in Toji’s throat. Not only did you agree, but you also throw out one curse word after the other. So unfitting of such a fine business lady like you are. He’s really beginning to like that other side of you. This is going to be fun. Straightening his back and standing back up to his full height, Toji holds his unoccupied hand out towards you. A wide grin is plastered across his face, his exhaustion from before seemingly forgotten.

You don’t hesitate and take his outstretched hand. Obviously you still don’t trust this man, but at this point, what is it that you have to lose? Your purse is gone already and the chances of Toji being some psychopath murderer - though fitting of his grim aura - are low, realistically speaking. So you might as well take your chances; the whiskey you drank earlier making you more adventurous anyway. 

Strong digits clasp around your own, practically engulfing your smaller hand. His skin is hot and rough and you love the feel of it, heat beginning to pool in the depth of your stomach again. Shit, maybe you should throw your prior resolutions overboard after tall. This absolut beast of a man would certainly be a good lay and could probably manage to take your mind off of that horrible week you had.

You’re suddenly torn from your thoughts as a jolt goes through your entire body and you’re pulled off your behind and up. You stagger forward, your legs unprepared for the abrupt need to support your full weight. Instinctively reaching your hands out, you fall against Toji’s chest, his muscles tensing up underneath your touch. A small, sharp inhale escapes your mouth. This ass, he absolutely did that on purpose!

Toji laughs, relishing in your honest reaction. “Sorry, dear. You good?” 

“I-I'm alright, thanks. My back just hurts from all that sitting”, you say awkwardly, trying to calm your racing heart, afraid he might notice the pounding behind your ribs. Your hands are pressed against his chest, the muscles so hard and broad it is making you shiver. 

Suddenly you can feel Toji's large hand spread across the small of your back, his long digits practically covering you. Your muscles immediately tense and your eyes dart up at him; he’s so tall, massive even. “Want me to massage you, doll?”, Toji says, putting some pressure on his fingers and slowly moving them up your back. He could feel the arch of your spine, shifting slightly underneath his touch. A wolfish grin is tugging at his lips, but he keeps his face indifferent, not wanting to scare you off. Though he’s not sure how much you could see in this darkness anyway. 

“Thanks Toji, but I'm good”, you say firmly and you’re proud that the weakness in your knees did not travel up and sully your voice. You know what he’s trying to do, he’s playing with you, enjoying your awkwardness. But two can play that game, you’re not some kind of docile lamb, that just sits around and gets played with. Stubbornness blooms and promptly takes control within you. You take a step back, your hands leaving the man's chest, his hand on your back disappearing. Straightening yourself up, you try to catch his gaze, the lack of any light making it hard to make out his face. “Also, stop it with the pet names, would you? I'm not your doll.” Though you might be drunk, you certainly didn’t swallow your tongue, Toji's sweet talking is provoking you. 

Toji definitely didn’t expect you to talk back like this. You seem to be much more feisty than his initial impression of you led on and he is thriving . His cock reacting with an eager throb underneath his black pants. Oh yes , he would shut you up real good. “Aaw why, you don’t like ‘em?”, he responds in a mocking tone, staring down at you. You strain your neck to look back up at him, trying to glare a hole into him, but at the same time fighting the urge within you to throw yourself at him and shut him up with a hot kiss. Feeling yourself getting antsy, you clench your fists and pump them repeatedly in order to distract yourself from the thirst coursing through your guts. Taking his sweet time Toji backs off and turns around, walking towards his apartment door. 

“I don’t. It’s condescending when someone you don’t know calls you these names”, you answer and follow him. Now that he has his back turned towards you, you realize just how large he is. You gulp and wish the lights were turned on, so that you could take in his amazing physique better. The metallic clattering of keys catches your attention and you take another step forward, not too close, but just close enough so that you could feel the heat radiating off of his body.

A door creaks open and suddenly a light comes on. It’s not a bright light, probably just a small lamp beside the entrance, but the sight of Toji standing in that dim glow still takes your breath away. He looks like a dark god, looming broad and menacingly before you. Yet again, you’re met with his green eyes, as he turns to look at you over his shoulder. 

“Want to get to know me better then?”

Instantly your mouth turns dry. Your mind begins to flood with explicit images of the two of you, entangled in each other’s bodies, you beneath him… fuck . There’s no way to prevent the dirty fantasies from rising within you as a tingling ache begins to settle itself between your legs. You can’t deny it anymore, you’re horny and you want to fuck that man in front of you. Rather, you want him to fuck you . You fight down the urge to press your thighs together, not willing to grant him that satisfaction, because you’re absolutely sure he’d notice that, going by the way his eyes never seem to leave you alone. 

Not wanting to let him have the upper hand this easily, you raise your chin and cross the distance between the two of you. Toji, as he notices your approach, turns around fully; still blocking the now open doorway with his broad physique. The pace of your heartbeat picks up the closer you get to him, a dark excitement coursing through your veins. You mimic the sly grin which Toji had shown you earlier and push past him into his home. As you do that, your hips brush past his own and you can see the muscles in his jaw tightening, the expression immediately sending shivers down your spine.

“I’d like a glass of water”, you say with a mischievous smile on your lips. After a few steps into his flat, you turn back around to your neighbour and are suddenly met with him directly in front of you. When did he get this close to you? You didn’t even hear him shut the door. Whatever , it doesn’t matter; you’re too caught up in your play to think about that stuff right now. 

“I’m thirsty”, you add, looking up at him and tilting your head slightly to the side, giving him a good view of your exposed neck and shoulder area. 

A dark hunger rises in Toji’s body as he watches you presenting yourself to him on a silver platter. Like a little sheep ready to be devoured by the big bad wolf. He’ll enjoy defiling you. He licks his lips and lets his eyes travel over your body once more. Now that there’s some light, he can properly see the clothes you’re wearing. A pine green silk dress with a plunging neckline that shows off your beautiful set of titts. He can’t wait to get his mouth on them. Further down, the black leather belt looped around your waist accentuates your curves quite nicely; maybe he would wrap it around your neck later on.

Toji closes his eyes and hums a low groan, as he pulls himself away from you, taking a step back and heading straight for the open kitchen right next to the living area the both of you are currently standing in. “A cold glass of water for the lady, comin’ right up”, he says, reaching for one of his cupboards, trying to think of anything but the inviting look in your eyes. If he didn’t get away from you right this minute, he’d have fucked you right then and there on the floor. The idea is tempting, but also wasteful. Toji would much rather take his time with you, exploring every inch of your body.

Satisfied with his reaction, you watch Toji fetch you a glass of water. You use that time to look around his apartment. The layout is the same to your own home, only mirrored. From what you could make out from the few light sources, his flat seemed nice but rather impersonal; with chic dark furniture but no decorations or plants whatsoever. In a way it fit him. Growing bored you make your way to the kitchen, where Toji is currently closing the fridge, water bottle in hand and back turned to you. You step beside him, putting your hands flat on the kitchen counter and not so accidentally brushing along his fingers, before you hoist yourself up to sit on the cold marble surface. 

“Here’s your water”, Toji says, gaze fixated upon you, a sinful smirk on his lips. There’s a vertical scar running through the right corner of his mouth; the rough mark causing your hunger to grow more and more. You return his smile with an equally alluring one and accept the glass from his hands, taking a few sips. The stinging thirst in your throat finally settles and the only thirst remaining is for the man right next to you, a throbbing ache between your legs. Toji shifts and positions himself directly in front of you. You hold your breath, eager, waiting. He takes the glass from your hands and places it somewhere on the counter where you can’t reach it - not that you would try to.

Without warning Toji’s hands are on your thighs, rough digits digging under the smooth silk of your dress, slowly moving up and forcing your legs open. You don’t resist and spread them so that he can position himself right between them. The lace of your underwear feels slick against your skin; Toji’s fingers leave a burning sensation on your thighs that only further increases your need for this man. He leans forward and - to your dismay - his hands leave your body. He places them on the counter, right next to you, effectively caging you in with his large body. Your breath is shallow, your chest rising and falling with each hot breath. He’s so close but at the same time not close enough.

“Listen, Kitten”, Toji says as he closes the distance between him and you; lowering his head just enough that his lips brush over the spot right beneath your ear. His messy black hair leaves a prickling sensation where it touches you. You take a sharp breath and bite your lower lip, unconsciously tilting your head to him like a submissive prey animal. Toji, meticulously observing your reactions, smiles against your skin before he continues, “I’m gonna go take a shower now. If you’re not gone by the time I’m back...” His lips travel down and he places a soft kiss on your throbbing pulse before he retracts and brings his face right in front of yours, looking you straight in the eyes; his pupils are dilated. 

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

You almost moan just from his whispered words. The desire in your lower belly keeps on growing and spreads out towards your limbs in shiver inducing heat waves. Your nipples instantly turn hard and sensitive, rubbing against the silk fabric of your dress. Just what is this man doing to you?

“Are we clear?”

A slight nod is the only thing you manage. You’re already a pulsing mess and he hasn’t even touched you yet. The timbre of his voice and the dark aura radiating from his body were enough to make you wet. You couldn’t help but feel excited for what’s to come and almost follow him to the bathroom when he leaves the kitchen - just so that you could feel his lips on your skin again sooner. But something inside you tells you to wait. You take another sip of water and then jump off the counter to settle on his couch, your legs almost giving in underneath you.

*

As the muffled sounds of the shower seize you immediately tense and sit up straight from the cushions beneath you. While Toji was in the bathroom next door, you were left alone with your thoughts. The throbbing in your lower regions decreased only slightly, your anticipation was still keeping you on the edge of your seat. You keep imagining what he would do to you when he comes back, what his body would look like underneath that black long sleeve turtleneck he was wearing.

A few more minutes pass during which your eyes are practically glued to the bathroom. Then the door swings open. Enveloped in a cloud of hot steam, Toji emerges. He’s wearing nothing but grey sweatpants and you can make out a fine shimmer of condensation atop his skin.

“Fuck”, you mutter without realizing. He’s seriously way too hot ! What the fuck!

You’re shamelessly staring at him, taking in every inch of his amazing physique. From his smooth chest, over his strong arms and down his chiseled sixpack to the V-line leading into his sweats. The slight bulge which is visible underneath the thick cotton makes your mouth water.

Toji sees you sitting on his couch and his signature smirk returns to his lips. “You’re still here”, he comments and reaches to scratch his neck, his damp hair feeling nice and cold against his hot skin. His smile only widens when he notices your staring.

Your breath is taken away by the movement of Toji’s muscles as he lifts his arm. Your eyes glued to his massive biceps before the dark ink on his skin catches your attention. A large tattoo circles around his entire torso. Beginning at his waist, a worm or caterpillar-like creature stretches over his chest, shoulders and back. The tattoo looks almost grotesque, like a real life demon crawling over his skin, but at the same time it fit Toji just perfectly. 

Finally , you manage to snap back into reality. Thank God, you almost started drooling then and there. “You don’t have to act surprised, Toji. You knew I’d stay”, you retort confidently and judging by the bellowing laugh you earn from him you’re more than right with that suspicion. 

“Little one, you’re quite bold. I didn’t expect that”, Toji says, still chuckling and draws closer towards you. As he steps into the light of the floor lamp, you notice for the first time the many scars scattered across his entire body. They all look unique, some are long and thin, others are round and protruding slightly. A light shiver makes the fine hairs on your neck stand up. What kind of job does this man have, you wonder, to be riddled with all these marks. You don’t dare to ask though.

Toji reaches the couch and stands right in front of you, staring down at you for a few hot seconds, the intent in his eyes darkening, his lust growing. The dark green silk looks beautiful against your skin. He couldn’t wait to rip the fucking dress off your body and lick your skin all over.

“Come here”, you demand and motion for the large man to bend down to your level. You want to touch him already, want to feel his hands on your body; you’re growing more and more impatient.

Instead of sitting beside you, however, Toji leans down and places his hands on the couch cushions to the left and right of your hips, caging you in like he did earlier in the kitchen. There’s a sudden shift in the atmosphere. The smile has vanished from his lips and you can’t really read his expression. Is he… angry ?

“Listen, angel , I think you got the wrong impression of me”, he begins and leans down further, past your shoulders, so that you can feel his hot breath against your ear. “I’m no nice man. I don’t play nice.” 

You make an audible gasp, heart stopping for a second and then resuming its pace at twice the speed. His voice is deep and filled with intent. It makes your skin crawl and your cunt twitch - eagerly waiting to be touched.

Toji runs his hand over your right arm, his touch light, yet burning. The skin underneath his fingertips erupting in a burning blaze. He trails up, brushing against the spaghetti strap of your dress, lightly tugging at it once before he continues his search for something you don’t know yet. His eyes are glued to the spot where his fingers touch your trembling skin.

“So if you continue riling me up like this…” 

Suddenly you feel his hand on your neck. His long, callused digits spreading over your throat in a featherlight touch. You gulp and hold your breath, anxiously waiting for his response. 

“Your sweet little ass is gonna end up gagged and writhing underneath me. Understand ?”, he threatens and grabs you - hard . Jerking your head upwards and forcing you to look him in the eyes. You can’t breathe, he’s pressing down on your windpipe. A choked yelp escapes your lips when you try to speak. The pressure on your throat makes your eyes water. Toji’s harsh words cause you to shift excitedly and you subconsciously begin to grind against the couch cushion. You didn’t expect him to respond so violently, but you don’t oppose it. In fact, it’s the exact opposite, his dominant behaviour only turning you on further.

Toji eases his grip around your throat slightly and you immediately nod, not having forgotten his prior question. A sinister smile spreads across his lips and he cocks his head to the side, his unruly black hair falling into his face. Look at you , a beautiful teary-eyed submissive slut. Until a minute ago you were so confident, so graceful. But as soon as he puts his hands on you you turn into a quivering mess. And Toji loves every single second of it. He’ll take his time to absolutely ruin you.

“Hmm, I don’t think you understand just yet. I think a vixen like yourself has to be reminded of her place first.”

His large hand lets go of your throat, moves over your jaw, his thumb brushing across your lower lip, before he settles at the back of your head. Toji grabs a fistful of your hair, wrapping the soft locks around his fingers in a tight almost painful coil. You don’t know how to react, the sudden shift in his behaviour entrances you and practically forces you to keep your eyes on his face. His attractive features, these high cheekbones and his chiseled jaw, are absolutely intoxicating. Never did you expect your night to take such a turn of events. You should thank the bastard-thief, really, for providing you with this opportunity. The opportunity being: Being fucked dumb by Toji Fushiguro.

You’re pulled to your feet and pressed down on your knees a mere second later, trapped between the couch and his hips. Toji jerks your head up, relishing in your pained expression before pressing his groin to your face, rubbing his clothed cock against your cheek. He breathes a sharp exhale. Instinctively you place your hands flat against his upper thighs, trying to support yourself so as to not lose balance. The sudden movement caused your dress to slide up, exposing the smooth skin of your legs, your knees rubbing over the carpet in front of the large sofa.

“What are you waiting for? Get to work”, Toji says; his voice deep and his tone dripping with condescension.

You take a deep breath to calm your racing heart and tug your fingers under the elastic of his sweatpants. The throbbing you can feel in his loins only spurring you on further. If he wants you to get to work then that’s what you’re going to do. You’re quite confident in your oral skills, this isn’t your first rodeo after all. You shoot a quick glance up towards Toji, he’s watching you - hungrily, impatiently . The sight makes your insides flutter. Returning to the task at hand, you pull down his pants, the cloth crumpling around his knees.

Toji watches with a dark amusement, as your eyes noticeably widen at the sight of him. He’s hard and heavy and big . The swollen tip already leaking precum. Your eyes are glued to his cock, from the trimmed dark hair at the base to the prominent veins along his shaft. How the fuck is that supposed to fit in your mouth.

“Don’t worry, it won’t bite”, Toji says and grins devilishly.

All your prior confidence seems to crumble right before you. This has to be the biggest dick you’ve ever seen in person. Toji would certainly make for a nice porn actor with this majestic appendage. You gulp and straighten yourself up. It doesn’t matter, you’ll manage somehow; the urge to please the man before you growing and taking over.

You lick your lips and spread some of your saliva on top of them, before you open your mouth and welcome the tip of his cock into your mouth. Toji groans as the wet warmth surrounds his head; the sensation of your sucking sending jolts of pleasure through his body. The sound which Toji makes encourages you to take in more of his length, ignoring the slight sting in your jaw as you open your mouth wider. You flatten your tongue against the underside of his shaft and rub it against his frenulum, enjoying the twitch it earns you while you hum contently and lap up his spilling precum. 

The rhythm you set is slow and dragging, but comfortable. You take your time licking up and down Toji’s length, replacing your tongue with your fingers, as soon as the base of his cock is left untouched. The pumping of your hands matches the pace of your mouth and you try to take him in deeper with each stroke. His tip brushes against the soft back of your throat, but so far you can bear the sensation and concentrate on applying pressure with your tongue and hollowed out cheeks. Saliva spills out of the corners of your mouth, trails down your chin and eventually lands on the shiny silk in your lap, turning the fabric dark and damp.

“That’s it, suck it.”

The sight unfolding before Toji is awe inspiring. His little uptight business lady swallowing his cock like a starved slut is something he never could’ve imagined even in his wildest fantasies. He feels himself growing even harder against your warm and wet flesh. It’s not enough . Readjusting his grip on your hair, Toji angles your head in a way so that he would have better access to your spit dripping mouth. 

You realize what Toji is doing, give up control and brace yourself for what’s to come. Toji’s other hand circles around your locks as well, when he begins to first slowly grind against your face and then shoves his entire length down your throat. Above you, he let’s out a strained groan before he picks up the pace and begins thrusting, effectively face fucking you into a sloppy, mangled mess. You can’t think straight and breathe shallowly through your nose while you try to fight down the urge to gag. 

“Fuck yeah, you like chokin’ on my cock you little slut?”, Toji grumbles and angles a particularly vicious thrust into the back of your mouth, pounding into the sensitive flesh. You can’t help but gag, tears erupting from your eyes and spilling down your cheeks. The man above you watches your tears with great delight, taking in every inch of your puffed up, red face. Simultaneously he pulls back and adjusts the pace a little in order to give you some time to breath. What a gentleman , you think before the grip on your hair tightens and his pounding grows in intensity again.

The sound of your muffled gags are blocked by the cock shoved down your throat. You try to bare with it, pressing your eyes shut and rubbing your flattened tongue against the underside of his veiny shaft. Finally, you can feel him pulsing in your mouth and instinctively dig your nails into his muscular thighs.  Toji groans loudly, the sound sending hot shivers throughout your entire body. You open your eyes and watch him throw his head back, the veins in his neck protruding and throbbing. You’re dripping wet; you want his cum. The thrusting of his hips grows more and more erratic and he looks back down at you, his eyes practically black from his widened pupils.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare spill a single drop”, he spews and licks his lips. For the first time you take note of the shiny metal ball in the middle of Toji’s tongue; your cunt clenching an anticipating throb. Sweat droplets form on Toji’s forehead and chest, trailing down between the furrows of his abs. The growing pleasure in his loins finally reaches its pique and explodes, his muscles tensing up beneath his skin. You feel his hot cum shooting down the back of your throat. One last time he thrusts into your mouth and buries himself to the hilt between your lips. Keeping his words in mind, you immediately swallow the thick substance without a second thought. When he pulls out, you gasp for air, a mixture of saliva and cum spilling out of the corner of your sore mouth.

Toji let’s out a huff of air and watches you for a second, dry heaving on the floor and trying to catch your breath as you swallow the rest of the fluids in your mouth. Satisfied, he pulls his pants back up, before crouching down to your level, raising your chin up to meet his gaze. Your eyes are watery, your mascara is practically ruined. Trembling lips, red and swollen. He’s never seen you look more beautiful before. 

Toji cocks his head to the side and smiles at you. His thumb brushes across your bottom lip to wipe away the traces of that phenomenal blowjob. You lean into his warm touch and can’t help but stare at his handsome face and devilish smile. Every thought has been stripped from your mind; the only things you can feel right now are the throbbing between your thighs and the aching of your jaw. Without you being able to prevent it, more tears escape from your eyes.

“Huh? Don’t cry, sweetheart. We’re only gettin’ started.”

[violetsiren90]

All I Haven't Said | Namjoon/Reader

💜 Chapter 3: Part 1 💜

Table of Contents: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 (part 1), Chapter 3 (part 2)

Pairing: idol!Namjoon/f!Reader

Genre: Soulmate AU; idol AU; chapter fic; strangers to lovers; a bit of idiots to lovers, tbh; slow burn; eventual romance; eventual smut; angst (life is messy & hearts are complex); OT7 featured

Summary: You found your soulmate - or rather, he found you. Turns out he's an idol of much acclaim who needs you for very real and unglamorous reasons. What could become of two hearts so used to giving of themselves when they are confronted with needing each other?

Chapter Word Count: ~6k

Chapter Warnings: This fic is 18+, as is all my work and my page as a whole; Talk and depictions of cancer, its treatment, and the symptoms of both; implication of some disregard for personal agency by entertainment industry; character experience and description of disassociation; flashbacks of a distressing situation; soulmate skinship; cursing; conversations surrounding soulmates and sex; character experiences an emotional breakdown; light embarrassment; CONFLICT (you knew it was coming, right?), there is plenty of fluffy stuff too I PROMISE 😂😅

Author's Note: Wow. It's been a minute. If you're still reading this story, thank you for sticking with me, and I apologize for the stretch of time between updates. For the longest time, I just couldn't get this part right...and then it was far too long, so I split it up, and I'm still editing the second, and (potentially) third parts. I got several messages from readers who were worried I might have abandoned this fic, and let me assure you, far from it! I am not a speedy writer, and struggle with doubting if what I'm putting on the page is good enough, so sometimes it takes me a minute to update, but let me assure you, these characters are so special to me and so alive in me, and I ask thank you for your patience as I work to tell their story! Thank you for your lovely words of encouragement and feedback on the story - I appreciate each and every one of them!!

P.S. If you want to join the tag list, drop me a comment or ask!

P.P.S. If no one has told you yet today, you're loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

"I needed the light of your energy, I looked around, devouring hope."

~Pablo Neruda

Chapter 3: My Windows Ache

  "FUCKING FINALLY."

    "Hey, Di."

    "How dare you ghost me for the forty-eight most interesting hours of your life?!"

    "Well, I was low-key occupied..."

    "TELL ME EVERYTHING." 

     You sighed, settling down on a shaded bench in the garden grounds of the hospital to which you had escaped for a little privacy and an important phone call or two.

    "Uh oh. That was your 'things are complicated' sigh," Diana prodded.

    Your eyes tracked a swallowtail as it flitted from azalea to azalea.

    "Well, things certainly aren't conventional or straight-forward, that's for sure. But where's the fun in understanding the basic parameters of what you're getting yourself into on a life-altering scale, right?"

    "Ummmm...what does that mean? You met him, right?"

You could barely hear your sister's question over the crinkle of plastic in the background.

    "Yeah, I did. We bonded too."

    "Oh mah gah!!" Diana choked out amidst sounds of crunchy chewing. "So what's he like?"

    You thought for a moment.

    "He's kind and intelligent. Obviously extremely resilient. His presence is impressive, but he has something about him that's very disarming. He's kind of clumsy and at moments almost...shy? Like, I don't know what I expected, but there's this sweetness to him that you wouldn't anticipate from someone in his position."

    "As a cancer patient?"

    "As an idol."

    You sighed again.

    "I don't know...he's..."

    Diana let out a strangled sound and uttered an enthusiastic string of words you couldn't make out.

    "I have no idea what you just said. Could you please decide whether you want to talk to me or consume an entire bag of Doritos?" 

    "Hey, it's dinner time here!" she whined, "And I said," her voice quickly changed to take on a smug sing-song tone, "That last sigh was your smitten-kitten one..."

    "It was not!" you cut her off sharply. "And get every single idea of Namjoon and I as a couple out of that scheming head of yours because he's very much taken. I'm meeting his fiancée for lunch today."

    "What? He's engaged?"

Diana let out an exasperated huff.

"Why didn't they tell you about this right off the bat? You're going to be the soulmate of a married man? What does that even mean? This is bullshit."

    You had a hard time disagreeing with her there. It was, in fact, bullshit that Namjoon's team had kept his relationship status a secret. Would it have changed your decision? Probably not. This had been about saving Namjoon's life, not some bizarre attempt at matchmaking. But having a third person to consider, and so intimately, as part of the equation for the rest of your earthly life felt like something you should have been made more immediately aware of. Navigating your boundaries with your soulmate had already been complex enough without introducing the prospect of being a fixture in his married life. When Namjoon had breached the prospect of meeting her, he had been taken aback at your surprise - he, like you, had assumed that Hybe's representation had disclosed everything of significance.

    "So it's a good thing I came here as a lifeline, not a mail-order bride," you reminded your sister, "And that seems to be working, by the way. His vitals are already stable. They stabilized overnight, in fact. And his white blood cell count was way up this morning, which is good because I guess he was experiencing immunosuppression from the chemo."

    "Oh, nice," Diana murmured.

You had to remind yourself that she was young and excitable, and not to be annoyed at the disappointment that he crept into her tone. However, never one to be down for long, her voice brought its usual bright mischief through the speaker as she posed her following question.

    "By the way...how was bonding?"

    She had said it with an inescapably salacious undertone, which is why, you told yourself, heat had begun to creep up the base of your neck. You stammered, switching the phone from one ear to the other as you bought yourself time to reassemble your decorum. 

    "Ah...I mean...it was...intense?"

    "Ooooohhhh," Diana trilled, only making you more uncomfortable as the heat spread from your neck to your cheeks, "Intense, huh? Like in a good way?"

     You squirmed uncomfortably where you sat, thoughts of Namjoon's pleasure-stricken face and the strength of his hand and how his skin felt against your own hitting your hippocampus like a flash flood.

    "Y/n?"

    "It was fine, okay? And it worked - so that's what's important."

    "....Okaaay..." Diana drawled skeptically.

You scrambled for another talking point.

    "That kid visited. The one who came to the States - Jungkook. And another one of the members too - Jim...Jimin? I'm still trying to get their names straight. Some of them don't go by their actual names on stage - Namjoon is RM...but you knew that. Anyway, I digress. Both the boys were really sweet. Seems like they're all very close. I'm supposed to meet the rest of the members at some point next week at dinner. They wanted to have a sort of 'last supper' for us since we're probably going to start rejecting food soon."

    "That's cool, you get to meet the whole team! Oh my gosh, you're just going to casually have dinner with BTS...this is still so unreal!"

    "Yep," you affirmed, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

Namjoon had hit you with a couple of whoppers last night, but this was one you were actually looking forward to. You told Diana all about your first two days in Seoul - about the impressive hospital and its kind staff. About meeting Namjoon, and his condition. About how everything was still so fresh and new. About how so many things were still unsettled, so many questions unanswered.

    "So are you nervous?"

    "About what?"

    "Meeting his girlfriend."

    You had been so wrapped up in filling Diana in on it all that you had actually forgotten about the impending lunch date. As you pulled the phone away from your ear to check the time, your stomach lurched. 

    "Shit, I better get going. It's almost eleven-thirty." You sprang up and started quickly back toward the building.

    "That wasn't an answer," Diana scoffed, "But, hey, sis?"

    "Yeah?" You pressed the "up" button on the elevator.

    "Don't be."

    You smiled.

    "Love you, Di."

    "Love you too. And so does anyone worth a damn."

    After deciding that you smelled like outside, you showered quickly then slipped into caramel-colored corduroys and an off-white tee. You rummaged around the small suitcase Matt had brought from the hotel for you in search of a sweater. After several exasperating minutes of unsuccessful digging, you heaved the bag of laundered clothes that had been returned to you by the hospital staff this morning, having gone through much of the what the Hybe staff had initially pilfered from your luggage in the last two days.

You grumbled in relief as you pulled out your dark green cardigan and slipped it over your shoulders, wondering what the hell the hospital laundry services had done to stretch it out so badly. But, you didn't have time to fuss - so you bunched up the sleeves and headed to the opposite end of the hospital's outdoor grounds where you suspected Namjoon and his guest were already waiting. 

    The hospital grounds were extensive and beautiful, sporting a garden that extended from the western wing, and a lawn punctuated by traditional pavilions to the east. He had pointed out the one he had reserved to you last night - tucked away in the shade of the large gingko trees flanking the little man-made stream that delineated the border of the grounds.

As you made your way toward the shady spot you chided yourself for being so uneasy - everyone surrounding your soulmate had been as lovely and warm and welcoming as he had been, and the woman he loved would likely be no exception. After Namjoon had disclosed that she was a musician like he was, you had done a bit of online recon before going to bed that night.

Her given name was Kim Hyung-seo, but her stage name, by which she was well-known, was Bibi. She was four years Namjoon's junior, but seemed nearly as ambitious. From what you could tell, she seemed to share a similar drive for artistry and honesty in her musical process as her future husband, and though her tendency for loose-canon candidness had landed her in hot water more than once, her earnest sincerity had engendered her to the hearts of her peers and fans alike. In an industry that seemed to often censor and restrict women, Hyung-seo didn't seem to give much credence to the rules. You liked that. You were actually kind of excited to get to know her a bit and ask her about her art - you had always been a woman's woman, and being in the company of strong feminine energy was something you found deeply empowering and grounding. You anticipated that your soulmate's girlfriend was someone you could respect, and you allowed yourself to venture to hope that feeling would be mutual.

    You trotted up the steps of the pavilion and took in its contents. The center had been fitted with a low, round table bearing a colorful and mouthwatering spread of gogi, bibim guksu, gimbap, and banchan. Cushions had been placed on the floor for seating, but none bore the lunch companions you had been anxious not to keep waiting. You were about to take your place at the table when a figure moving near the creek caught your eye.

You moved to the far side of the structure, to see your soulmate deeply engaged in conversation...with a duck.

He was standing near the edge of the water, his tall figure clad in silky modern navy blue hanbok. The top was untied and hung loosely over a white tee - the only contrast to the deep muted tone apart from his cognac loafers. He wore a dark beanie pulled low on his head, which was bowed in affectionate greeting to a juvenile Gadwall who had paddled away from his family to sample the little bits of starchy fluff that the stranger had sprinkled onto the water.

You pressed your palms against the painted wood, taking him in with a smile as he crouched down, extending a bit of bread between his fingers slowly toward the curious little water foul.

This man, you were learning - this erstwhile underground rapper, this leader of men, this brilliant intellectual and genius artist - this great, powerful, impressive man could be called out of his poise in an instant by the sweet and tiny things of the world.

You watched as he waited patiently, the little duck swimming in to-and-fro circuits and drawing closer and closer to Namjoon with each pass, until finally it was close enough to snatch its prize from him and scuttle off quickly to rejoin its mother and siblings. Namjoon chuckled, smiling fondly as he watched the duck make his way back down the creek.

This man, you thought to yourself, could not possibly be real.

    "So you're a Kpop idol and a Disney princess, huh?" you called, causing Namjoon to startle and rock back on his heels, landing on his posterior in the damp grass.

    You slapped a hand over your mouth to repress the laughter that threatened to bubble up at the site of his large well-dressed figure tipped back haphazardly on the creekside. He huffed a sheepish laugh as he stood, swiping at the back of his pants.

    "Give a person a little warning?" he chided lightly, approaching you where you leaned on the railing.

    "Sorry," you chuckled, "I didn't want to scare your little friend."

    "So you settled for scaring your soulmate? I see how it is." 

    You smiled and ducked your head.

    "Sorry," you murmured, flicking your gaze back to his.

He looked up at you, fixing you with his warm brown eyes and bringing his hands to grip the railing on either side of yours. Suddenly, you felt shy. You shook yourself.

    "Hey, hang out with the ducks and you'll end up with a wet tail," you teased.

Namjoon's eyebrows drew together in mock disgust.

    "Yikes, you're almost as bad as Seokjin hyung," he remarked disparagingly.

    You shrugged, smirking.

    "I have no idea what that means, but whoever Seokjin is, he must have a superior sense of humor."

Namjoon was opening his mouth to respond, but was cut short, as the tiny motion of your shoulders had slid one of your hands just a centimeter down the railing and barely flush with his own. The slight contact was enough to send sudden little tingles of comfort shooting up your arm and across your chest. In a millisecond you felt yourself relax where you hadn't realized you were tense. You could have imagined it, but you thought you felt Namjoon press his hand just a fraction more into yours as he swallowed and heaved a deep sigh.

You reminded yourself for the hundredth time since you arrived that this was biological. Clinical. The means to an end. Damn, he felt good though.

You found yourself snatching your hands away to push up your cardigan sleeves and then stuff them into your pants pockets where they would stop confusing you. You distracted yourself from Namjoon's subtle look of disappointment with an apology.

    "Sorry about your pants," you rocked back on your heels as you looked out over the little ribbon of water rippling over its stony bed behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder and brushed himself off again before waving a hand in dismissal. Your eyes focused back on the blue silk.

"I didn't realize this was a fancy lunch. I feel under-dressed."

    "You look nice," Namjoon rebutted, as he glanced over your attire. Then his brow pinched as his eyes halted on your torso, flitting over your arms and shoulders. "But isn't that -"

    "Joon?"

A voice behind you caused you to turn.

Standing at the top of the steps was the woman it belonged to. She was tall and beautifully slender - her svelte figure draped in a slinky chrome dress with a triangular cutout that displayed the smooth skin of her upper abdomen. Her glossy raven tresses were styled away from her face in a high ponytail, drawing sharp attention to her sultry features. Her smoky eyes glanced over your form with a lazy intensity, lids half-raised over dark irises, and her pouted lips pursed in appraisal. You wondered just exactly how many ridiculously beautiful people traveled in Namjoon's circle.

She stepped toward you, her chunky pink heels marking her confident strides on the floorboards, before bowing and extending a small hand with sharp white acrylics and icy sliver rings.

    "I'm the girlfriend!" she hummed, her deep, velvety voice matching her features.

    You bowed in return before shaking her hand politely.

    "So nice to meet you," you smiled, "I'm -

    "The soulmate," she cut you off, glancing over your shoulder at Namjoon, who still stood outside the pavilion, "of that weirdo." '

Namjoon circled around to the entrance of the pavilion before joining you with a wry smile. He introduced the two of you formally, before being the first to take a seat at the table. Hyung-seo joined him, shimmying her cushion closer to Namjoon's as she used a pair of chopsticks to load her plate with selections from the spread. 

    "Oh my god, I'm STARVING," she gushed, staring at Namjoon impatiently as he took a bit of kimchi fried rice and a few slices of samgyeobsal.

    "My stomach feels like it could take some real food for the first time in a while," he said with eager enthusiasm, glancing up at you with a smile of gratitude. 

    Hyung-seo tapped her chopsticks against her plate as she watched you survey the dishes before you. You took some kimchi fried rice and carefully ladled out a small bowl of doenjang-jjigae. You pulled your hands into your lap and watched the steam rise from the fragrant broth.

    "Ah, unnie..." Hyung-seo began before Namjoon shushed her and lightly tapped her knee.

You glanced between them in confusion. Namjoon merely smiled at you, and you smiled back, glancing down from his warm gaze to your plate.

    "Oh for the love of god, would you take a bite?"

    You looked up rather startled at Hyung-seo, who was leaned forward, her desperate eyes tracking your movements, and the chopsticks clutched in her right hand hovering over a plump, sweating mandu.

You blinked, fumbling for your chopsticks as your soulmate admonished the woman next to him. You took a heap of fried rice onto your chopsticks and brought it to your lips, looking questioningly between the two across from you. Hyung-seo groaned in impatience, her head lolling back.   

    "In Korea, the eldest eats first," Namjoon offered in soft explanation, his features trained in apology.

    As realization washed over you, you all but shoved the rice into your mouth, hoping to swallow your embarrassment with it, followed quickly by Hyung-seo, who popped two mandu into her mouth consecutively. Her eyes rolled back as she let out a groan of appreciation. You watched Namjoon carefully savor a piece of samgyeobsal. He smiled a dimpled smile. You smiled to yourself as you tucked into your fried rice. Namjoon's fiancée watched you both. Her cheeks were full, but she wasn't smiling.

Your little trio ate in contented silence until your visitor, having satisfied her belly, fixed her eyes on you with a different sort of eagerness. The time for questions had come, you realized. You set down your chopsticks, taking a drink of water.

    "I'm sure there is so much we'd like to know about each other," you offered with a smile.

    She pulled her lips into a brief grin, sipping from her own glass as her eyes trailed over you. You cleared your throat.

    "So, I read that y-"

    "How does it feel?" she interrupted, starring at you raptly. You blinked.

    "I'm sorry?"

    "When he touches you." She licked her lips. "I heard it's like cumming. I heard it's better."

Namjoon slid a large hand over her thigh. You saw it squeeze.

    "Jagiya..." he murmured.

    You glanced at him and gave him a reassuring grin which he returned, though not as readily as before. Not the start to the conversation you had hoped for, but she was living up to her brusque reputation. You let yourself laugh a little at the question, and saw Hyung-seo's mouth curl up a bit at the corners, though it didn't reach her eyes.

    "It's nothing like sex, actually," you mused, trying to be as forthcoming as possible without abandoning politeness. "Strange, I guess, because it is all about physical exchange and contact. But...it's more like...nourishment? I don't know...I haven't had long enough to think about it."

You had had quite long enough to know that it was ineffable, but in the most intoxicating, magnificent way - and a hell of a lot better than most of the sex you'd had. This, however, wasn't the time and place for descriptions of the bond that could be ripped from the pages of drugstore romance novels.

    You found yourself turning to Namjoon with a questioning gaze, as if to ask if he had anything to add. He nodded in response, not meeting your eyes.

    "Yeah, it's different," he murmured succinctly.  

    Hyung-seo hummed in assent, chewing on her lip, her gaze still roving over you. You decided to try again.

    "So how did you m-"

    "How do you do it?"

    You stifled a small sigh that threatened to escape your lips.

    "Do what?"

    "Use the bond. Like, do you hold hands, or...or what?"

    You looked to Namjoon who murmured something in Korean that sounded like a warning. This wasn't going as you'd hoped. Her questions were natural ones, but not the first you thought you'd be asked, and not so pointedly. In fact, they were ones she should probably have put to her partner. Had they not spoken since you arrived?

    "The bond works with any physical contact. When I first got here, I had so many questions myself. The hospital personnel were very informative while helping us navigate our questions. I still know very little, but as someone whose partner is bonded, I'm sure they would have someone who could better answer these types of questions than I can," you offered.

It was the opposite of forthcoming, but you were absolutely not prepared to launch into a conversation about you and her fiancé spooning in your undergarments. The trajectory of the exchange had to go elsewhere, so you resolved to take the wheel.

    "Is there anything you'd like to know about me? Maybe I could tell you a little about myself. My job in the states wasn't glamorous, but I loved it. I was -"

    "A social worker, I know," she murmured with a sigh, and Namjoon's head snapped toward her.     

You could feel your confusion pulling into a frown. In your beat of silence, the woman in front of you gave into another impulse as she placidly launched into an answer of your unasked question.

    "You're a social worker from the West coast, oldest of three kids. Your father died when you were ten. You graduated summa cum laude, and chose a career in women's services. You support your mother's living - you have been, long-term. Your brother is an engineer and your sister is in nursing school. You've never committed any crimes, but you were arrested once in college at some political protest about immigrant rights. Your blood type is O positive. You don't seem very good with your money, but you've never asked for financial assistance. You've never been married." 

    Silence.

    Your ears were ringing.

    You blinked as you tried to focus, grappling for something on which to stabilize your composure. This isn't how this was supposed to go. You felt your control slipping as the words pierced you in echoes that knocked you back down each time you reached out to steady your mind. 

    "Your father died when you were young..."

    "...You support your mother's living..."

    "...You don't seem very good with your money"

    Your mind whirred as the silence closed in, and for a moment you were suspended.

        Diana and Henry weren't pillars, you thought - they were tiny little babies as your mother clutched them on either side of her prone, shaking form as shovels of dirt were shifted back into the gaping hole that held a pine box covered in flowers. You looked down at the flag in your hands, and then up at the white flowers, still fresh and blooming, being caked and sodden with damp soil. You felt something rising up in your chest - something that never reached the surface. You turned from the wound in the earth as Dianna reached out and tugged at your arm. The babies looked afraid. You couldn't see your mother's face from where it was buried in her skirts. You tucked the flag reverently under your arm and took the little hands.

    Somewhere outside the amniotic sack of your mind, you saw Namjoon's figure stand. You heard his garbled voice speak to the woman beside him. He was angry, his voice pitched low. Hers in response was sharp and high.

    You took a deep breath and exhaled. Your chest was beginning to labor and your inhaler was on the fifth floor of a building on the other side of the property.

You willed yourself back into this world you had chosen. This place which, like the others you had inhabited, would discover its new tenant didn't take long to adapt. She was built to withstand.

    "Namjoon," you called softly, as you looked up at your soulmate. His eyes snapped to yours, his face showing subtle but unmistakable signs of distress - eyes reflecting remorsefully and jaw flexing.

You smiled at him gently, reassuringly.

    "It's alright," you insisted, your eyes not leaving his.

You saw his shoulders sag, and his head bow. His hand came up to scrub over his face. You realized then that she was looking at you. Hyung-seo's expression was apprehensive, her eyes scouring your face.

    "This must be an extremely difficult thing for you, whatever the reason," you offered earnestly.

    She regarded you in silence, her eyes flickering like the flame of a candle.

    "I would say, 'I understand', but I don't. I have no idea how hard it must be to fall in love with someone only to watch them suffer at the hands of disease, and to suffer so greatly and to come so close to losing them that you turn to finding a person who can save them, and who - if they are saved by - they will need and desire for the rest of their natural life. A person who isn't you." 

    Her eyes quivered as they held you in their gaze.

    "I know I'm supposed to be a saving grace," you continued, having gained your ground, "But I know I could also look a lot like a threat. Trust me when I say that you can be open and honest with me about how you feel. This is a difficult situation where we're going to feel burdened by things we shouldn't. Namjoon and I discussed this."

    You smiled again at your soulmate, who was watching you with relief and something else in his features. You wanted to call it admiration, but you had only known him for two whole days.

    "Whatever fears you're carrying that make you feel like a burden in this moment, could I ask you to set them aside? For a chance to get to know me in the real way that you deserve? This isn't a trap. Or a cage. We've all chosen to be here."

    You regarded Hyung-seo in the silence that followed. Her eyes had fallen from your face - they glanced over toward where Namjoon stood, barely raising toward his figure, when she suddenly dropped her face into her hands and began shaking with sobs.

    You let out a sigh of relief too soft to be heard by the others.

    "Fuck...." Hyung-seo choked out against her palms, "I'm such a piece of shit..."

    Namjoon moved to place a hand over her back and assure her she wasn't. You wondered what she felt when he touched her. Your heart ached with pity for her. Namjoon drew her into his chest and held her as she cried her makeup off. He stroked her hair as her regarded her with weary, worried eyes. You couldn't help but feel that you were encroaching on a private moment...expect that you were a part of this as much as they were. Was there a lifetime of this feeling to be endured? You sighed again.

    "I'm gonna give you guys a minute," you whispered as you clambered to your feet.

    Namjoon nodded silently over the woman in his arms. 

    You watched scattered leaves from the boughs overhanging the far side of the stream spin as the were swept away. Your eyes tracked one in particular, twirling as it sailed around a protruding rock and under an arching root, only to be stopped as it was doubled at the middle by a thin, swaying reed. You found your feet moving to where the water rushed around it as it billowed helplessly on both sides of its obstruction like a flag of surrender. You slipped off your shoes and rolled up your pants. You waded into the cool, clear water and, reaching out, tugged the little leaf free. You watched as it sailed on, disappearing around a bend in the waterway. You glanced back up at the pavilion. If you could have been sure it was the right move, you would have left altogether, but you wouldn't want your sudden departure to be taken the wrong way.

    You sighed. You pulled your phone out of your back pocket as you waded back out of the stream. Dead. You were bad about keeping it charged, and your conversation with Diana had drained its aged battery. You wished you had a book. Glancing about, your eyes caught a fairly large patch of clover flowers a few yards down the bank, and crossing the soft grass, you sank down in its center.

You smiled weakly to yourself as you plucked one of the little white buds near the base of its stem. You and your siblings would spend hours at the park under the shade turning sprawling patches of the puffy blooms into garlands, crowns, bracelets, and rings. You picked another flower and tied its supple stem into a knot just under the other flower's head. 

    By the time Namjoon came to join you, sinking down across from you in little clover patch you had fashioned yourself a crown and a necklace, and were working on a garland to send to Diana. You set down your handiwork to look up at him. He was regarding you with soft, somber eyes and a little smile that looked like one he didn't have the energy for but couldn't help besides. He picked a flower and twirled it between his fingers.

    "I'm so sorry," he murmured, "If I would have thought that things would go that way, I wouldn't have insisted on her meeting you before she left. She's going on tour and I thought...well, I thought if she just met you her anxieties would be eased."

    You nodded thoughtfully.

    "Thank you for your patience and kindness. She was out of line saying those things to you like that...you were...that was everything she needed to hear, I think."

    You cast your eyes down as you tied off another knot in the garland.

    "Is she okay?" you asked quietly.

    Namjoon sighed.

    "She's...embarrassed. Ashamed of herself. She wasn't in any condition to finish that conversation, so I suggested she go home."

    "Understandable," you assented, nodding again.

    Silence hung between you for a moment before you raised your eyes to his again.

    "Namjoon...there are some things I think we should discuss."

    He nodded earnestly, his eyes falling, brow creasing and tongue pressing into his cheek.

    "I know we haven't had much time," you continued, "And we have literally the rest of our lives...but, I think we should be on the same page about what we've been told about each other. I think it will make this whole process easier? I don't know. There are some things you assume you'll have to tell someone at a certain point in knowing them - some things that are...deeply personal..."

    "Aren't things between us already that way? Deeply personal?"

    You looked up and those half-lidded brown eyes were looking right at you in a way you weren't prepared for, in a way that flooded your veins. Soulmate. You wanted to touch him. You wanted to feel him and what he brought to you. You wanted him to feel it too. But you didn't know him, and he didn't know you, and he needed healing, which is why you were here. He loved someone who loved him whose lives you were disrupting. This feeling was basal, you knew - came with the territory...but you were going to need some strong boundaries if this was going to function. You were going to need honesty, for a start.

   "They are," you relented slowly, "But I have questions that I need answers to. Your trust in me is clear, and I appreciate that...but...I need time to get my footing here."

    Namjoon nodded in assent.

    "I get that. So, what do you want to know, specifically? I'll answer any question you have."

    You nodded gratefully.

    "Thank you. Do you think I could take a little time to think about what I want to ask? I'm kind of still processing everything that just happened."

    "Of course," he was quick to answer, "Whenever you want to talk, just let me know. Did I say how sorry I am?" he asked smiling weakly as he looked up from where he struggled to knot the stem of one flower around another, suddenly looking down again when its stem snapped between his fingers.

    You huffed out a little laugh.

    "Yes, you did," you did, you answered, offering him a rueful grin.

    He picked another flower only to realize he had cut its stem too short for his purposes. He tossed the little blossoms back into the grass.

    "Can you make me one?" he asked pathetically, pouting at the garland in your hands.

    You chuckled as you tied off the one in your lap and leaned forward to slip it over his head. He adjusted it around his neck, looking down at it with a pleased expression.

    "You know...if you can believe it, we actually got lucky in there," he smirked, his forehead creasing as he raised his brow.

    You gave him a look of confusion. His eyes trailed over your torso again before flitting back up to yours.

    "She didn't notice that you're wearing my sweater."

    You froze. Then you blinked down at the giant green cardigan that had, in fact, slipped down off of one shoulder. Then you gaped at him.

    He snickered.

    You scrambled to yank the sweater over your head, even as he laughed and protested, you blustered apology after expletive after apology.

    "Shit, it was in my laundry bag!" You whined in explanation as you shook it out and began to fold it in your lap.

    "Stop, just keep it on," Namjoon insisted, still clearly amused at your state of panic.

    "I have one just like this. Like, identical but obviously smaller. I just assumed it had stretched out in the wash..." You extended the sweater toward him.

    He shook his head.

    "Just give it back later, you'll be cold." He looked up at your exasperated expression and started laughing again.

    "Stooop..." you whined in embarrassment, and when he only laughed harder, you tossed the sweater in his face. As he balled it up with a smile where it fell down into his lap, his smart watch trilled. He glanced down at it.

    "I've got labs scheduled now," he sighed.

    "Hopefully they'll bring more good news," you offered, at which he nodded. "I seem to be getting the job done, if I do say so myself," you teased, leaning back on your hands and offering him a smug look.

He nodded, tongue in his cheek, then pushed to stand - with effort, you noticed - and extended a hand down to you. You didn't realize what the little smile on his mouth was for until you accepted his hand with your own, by habit, and were nearly knocked back off your feet as the bond surged through you like a wave of mind-numbing euphoria that left you unable to process information outside of what was sent coursing through your every cell from where he touched you.

    You blinked up at him as you got your wits about you, and he was looking down at you through little slits in his barely-open eyes, head tilted back and mouth hanging open - little smirk still tugging at its corner. You pursed your lips, trying not to grin back.

    "You did that on purpose," you chided, trying and failing to train your features in a scowl.

    His smirk deepened.

    "What? I was just being courteous..."

    You rolled your eyes.

    "I'm feeling a little weak, I think it would be best if you helped me back to the room," he muttered slyly, turning to head back toward the building.

The smile that was dimpling his cheek and creasing the corners of his eyes did something to your stomach that had you yanking your hand out of his grasp.

    "Yeah, right," you huffed, forging a few steps ahead of him, "You're putting a lot by your poorly reputed coordination to think you could walk while I was touching you." 

    He let out a laugh behind you. It was loud and bright and had you biting back a smile to match it.

    "What happened to getting the job done, sweater thief?" he called after you teasingly.

    Shit. Yeah. Boundaries. You were going to need them.

_________________________________________________

Well, they met! Next part to follow soon.

Thank you for sticking with me here!

Tag list: @butterymin @little-dark-empress @aretha170 @kamilamb @jlee97 @thephotoend @callmenoona25 @felicityroth @softforyoongles @berlianv @honneypies @deadrose287 @n0pesir

[rpreaperperson]

5 : Corruption

For more : masterlist

While inside the jeep Claw slightly leans Soap's buffy arm fidgeting her fluffy tail, still sulking as Ghost glare at her

Feeling sorry for the Half breed Soap stroked her head while conversing with the two members of Los Vaqueros

“Kids, Guns, and Ballons that's a new one” quip Soap glancing at Ghost, Claw peaked from his side

Her ears tickled Soap's chin as the ears twitching, a beautiful city yet surrounded by death and corruption

“Where can we find him?” ask Soap

“Who?” Claw lifted her head stare at Soap curiously

“El Sin Nombre, Claw...didn’t you hear what we talking about?” Ghost scold her again

“I-I heard it..” she pout ears flatting against her head when Ghost wanted to lecture her again

“Relax L.T, don’t want our kitty to be sad, look at her!”

“give ‘im ‘that’ eyes” Soap whispered at her ear, and her mouth became O knowing what Soap means, meanwhile both Vaqueros felt sorry for Claw, especially Alejandro

“P-please Master...~ forgive me..” Alejandro's eyes widen open so is Ghost

‘Damn you Soap! you know my weakness!!’ mohawk man staring at the car window acting ignorant avoiding Ghost glares

“w-well...just..don’t do that again” Claw beamed and rubbed her face against his neck

“Okay Masterrr~ I loff youu~” grunted embarrassed he scratching Claw favorite spot

“pft..lof you too” Soap mutters but a certain Lieutenant sensed that he make fun of

“you got a problem there Sergant?”

“Nope” a smug face plastered against his face, then Rudy cleared his throat didn’t want to break any of their light converses but he has to, cause Alejandro starting to tremble.....and know the reason why...

‘Claw’ Alejandro snapped from the daze and back to business

“ ...back to our talk, You can’t find him. No one knows who he is. But he’s everywhere” Claw eyes caught onto a large painting of a Virgin Mary with El Sin Nombre written on it

‘He? But that painting over there...a woman..hmm..’ then she saw a group of cats laying on the side of streets

An idea formed in her head.

.

The time passed they arrived at the place where Hassan had been reportedly spotted. Claw hopping out from the jeep followed Ghost and Soap as they circled up preparing her guns ready to back into action.

‘hmm...something off’ as she sniffs the air

“Master Ale, where are they holding Hassan?” the Colonel choked on his saliva so is Rudy, and the other Vaqueros who listen widen their eyes

“W-Wha –“

“That’s how she’ll be calling you all now, get used to it” Ghost piped up, something told Alejandro that he got the same treatment from her

“Oh..of course, White two-story building. Back of town” Claw nodded and rushed into the door both Ghost and Soap know that she now in her battle mode, and ears twitching tried to sense an enemy behind the door.

“they’ve been waiting for us, Masters”

“Good” Ghost nodded, Soap smile proudly at her as the Vaqueros stare at her in amazement

And then the battle begins.

Taglist: @lilpothoscuttings @kaoyamamegami

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Azula x Gender Neutral Reader

Request Prompt: “Hey I had an idea for a story for Azula with a gender-neutral reader where she meets someone in the asylum both of them have family issues which is what they vibe on and Reader is kinda mysterious to Azula as in they kind of keep the selves hidden from her I was thinking kind of like in the Phantom of the opera don’t know if you’ve actually seen that movie or play you don’t have to accept if you don’t want”

The Fire Nation Psychiatric Institution had been your home for almost 10 years. You were taken from your life with your mother and placed inside it at 7 years old. You hadn't been outside its walls since. So you knew everything about the place, every patient, every member of staff, every room and every window. Despite this forcibly sheltered upbringing you heard what was going on outside the walls too. You heard when the Firelord banished the Prince and again when he returned. You heard that the Avatar was back and then a year later when he overthrew the Avatar. Of course it was also huge news when the banished Prince returned and claimed the throne for himself. Everyone knew of the Princess' downfall and you got to witness first-hand what happened to her. 

You were present the day Azula was brought in. She was supposedly unconscious and they carried her in and laid her on the floor. The Firelord followed and was looking around nervously. He spied you and your fellow patients in the other room and his frown deepened. The guard reassured him you were all stable and settled so there was nothing to fear. He still looked nervous and apparently for good reason but the threat was not from the other patients. The Princess suddenly sprang into action, her unconsciousness a ruse. She took her brother out instantly and so easily you wondered how he ever beat her in combat. She was in a straight jacket but she still managed to duck the guard who tried to defend him and kick another. She ran for the door, barging past two more guards and almost reached freedom...when a gust of air bending sent her back into the building. The Avatar. You hadn't seen him before of course but had heard rumours of what he looked like. You found him a little underwhelming, he was just a kid but that display of airbending was no joke. The princess was on the floor winded but he didn’t take any chances. He quickly took action and did something to reduce her oxygen levels until she was unconscious properly this time. He helped the Firelord up and you were all ushered from the room in case the Princess' actions had inspired you. It didn't, escape had long been off your agenda. The princess was taken to one of the most secure rooms in the whole place and she didn't leave it for months. It just so happened her room was next to yours and so you overheard a lot of things. She was apparently very difficult and the staff did not like her. She was dangerous and they had to keep her mouth shut with straps to stop her from breathing fire at them. She wasn't allowed to go outside or even move as far as you'd heard. She was chained to a chair every day like an animal and no treatment was ever attempted on her. She was just abandoned by her big brother who didn't know what to do with her. You knew what that felt like but then again so could half the people in here. Then after 8 months something changed. Perhaps Firelord Zuko had remembered his humanity or Azula had simply gotten better with time but you slowly began to see more of her. They let her come down to the group room when there was a big fire nation festival. She was chained and heavily guarded of course but it was something. Then 3 weeks later she made an appearance again. Then again and again until she was pretty much free to roam around. Well not free, she was the most heavily chained and the guards were always more nervous when she was there but at least she could actually move and walk around. At first you were all a little amazed to be in the same facility as royalty but that novelty wore off quickly. You'd been here for so long nothing was new. You just kept to yourself and out of trouble and that meant avoiding the new patient. You had learned a thing or two about new patients and could tell when they hadn't quite accepted this was their new home yet and escape was still on their minds. The princess was one of these people. She acted calm and stable but you could tell it was all an act and she could snap at any moment. You could see the lie in her eyes and could practically feel it in the air. So you stayed away from her, very happy not to be caught in the crossfire but the Princess had other ideas. Azula had been asking around who the oldest patient was and of course it was you. So she began watching you and then finally approached. She joined you at your table to eat and neither of you said anything. You kept your eyes down and acted like she wasn't there even though you could feel her staring at you. Finally she spoke, "I've heard you've been here the longest?". You didn't reply but she kept going "nearly 10 years apparently, a sentence that long must've been for something really bad". Again you didn't reply but the Princess didn't seem shaken. "I'm guessing your parents did something bad and you're in here as punishment. How does that make you feel? To know they separated you from them just because they could? To not even know what they did to them? To have no clue when or if you'll ever leave this place". You knew she was trying to provoke you but you didn't let her. You'd been here 10 years having guards and patients swipe at you whenever they felt like it, there was nothing she could say to make you react. So you finished your food and stood up, not even looking at her as you walked away. Azula tried several more times to provoke you into talking to her but you didn't. You just kept mute no matter what she said or when the anger started to seep through into her words. It was going well and you thought she was growing tired of you until a guard messed it all up. By now the guards were pretty much done tormenting you. You were basically just part of the woodwork to them but every now and then a new guard would arrive and try to cement their position by throwing their weight around. You could tell the new guard was one of those people and when he was assigned to your corridor you knew this wouldn't be a fun night. Sure enough the guard was loud and seemed to find it funny that he could annoy you and you couldn't do anything about it. All night he kept tapping his baton against the bars, running them up and down them every 5 minutes and whispering comments and abuse at you. You couldn't tone his annoying voice out so you asked to go to the bathroom. He made a few crude jokes before finally unlocking your cell and leading you to the one at the end of the hall. Inside you got a few minutes of peace before he started angrily banging on the door telling you to hurry up. You yanked open the door and followed him back to your cell but he didn't really seem in a hurry. He took his time tormenting you and making fun of you. Azula of course was listening to the whole thing. She too was ready to incinerate the guard but you distracted her with your nighttime bathroom trip. She heard him openly berate you and was curious how you'd react to a confrontation. She'd seen a few patient arguments but you never got involved and the other patients all left you alone. She hadn't heard you speak more than yes or no and she was curious what was going on in that brain of yours. So she stood by the door out of sight but in hearing distance. The guard continued to insult you and say horrible things about you but you didn't react. He was disappointed by that. "You're no fun, don't you know it's rude not to reply when someone's talking to you?" he called. Then he said one word and the whole atmosphere changed.   "Come on Beifong".

Azula could feel something was about to happen. She was right. Whatever the man said had struck a chord and you finally responded. In the blink of an eye you reached up and grabbed his wrist and gripped it harshly forcing him to drop his weapon. Azula saw how easily you overpowered him and could see the fear as the man realised he couldn't escape. That only got worse as the wall behind him seemed to press into him. He tried to move his other hand but it was stuck against the wall somehow. He looked around desperately for another guard but he was the only one on this floor. "Don't ever say that name again" you told him. Azula heard no threat, no promise of what would happen if he did but still the man nodded because he could feel it. Your eyes were portraying all the horrors you would inflict on him better than any words could and he was clearly terrified. Then just as quickly as you grabbed him you let him go and walked back into your room. The man quickly slammed the door and bolted it. He turned around and jumped to see Azula stood there. "What are you looking at?" he asked and she just smiled. That seemed to unsettle him even more and he rushed away cursing you both.   Azula didn't sleep that night, she stayed up thinking of all the reasons the man called you Beifong and why you'd react that way. The next day, the second her door was unlocked she headed for you. She spotted you in your favourite corner and appeared. "Sounds like you had a little tantrum last night" she said. You didn't react to her presence but Azula saw you hesitate when she mentioned last night. "Look we can keep this whole silent act going but I heard what that guard called you. He said you're a B...". You cut her off "I'm not one of them and I never will be". You looked at her and Azula realised it was the first time you'd looked her in the eye. She could usually tell a lot by a person's eyes but yours were...empty. No there was something there but it was hidden, stored in a place Azula couldn't quite see. She looked away first and carried on "well one of your parents must've been. Was it your mother? Or father?". At the word father your eye twitched ever so slightly and Azula smiled "okay so your father is the one". She was just getting started but you were apparently done. You shrugged "why don't you tell me princess. I never met the man" and walked away. Azula wanted to know how a Beifong had gotten thrown in a psychiatric institution in the Fire Nation. She knew there was more to you than met the eye and she speculated you could help her escape but to do that she had to crack you and she came up with an idea. Ever since you'd stood up to that guard he'd been on a rampage. Attacking patients whenever he felt like it, taking away food, stomping around to assert his dominance, typical insecure bully behaviour. Azula could see you hated him and so she had a proposition for you. "If I get toxic masculinity over there to quit will you tell me how you're a Beifong?" Azula asked. You raised an eyebrow and Azula worried you'd just not answer but your curiosity won "you think you can make a guard quit?". Azula smiled "easily, you can pick anyone of them in here and I'll have them gone within a week but it won't be without a price". "How?" you asked but Azula just smiled "do we have a deal?". You shrugged "why would I care?". "Because out of everyone here he hates you the most and you and I both know it's only a matter of time before he turns his attention back to you only this time he'll have back up. So, it's in your best interest to have him gone. I can do that for you and all it will cost is one measly story". You shrugged "fine, if you can somehow get him gone and not get yourself sent to prison in the process I'll tell you how I got here". Azula grinned but you didn’t even give her another thought, in your mind there was no way Azula was going to get rid of the guard.  All it took was a few days for you to realise how wrong you’d been. At first you didn’t notice much difference with the guard but each day it became more obvious. Azula began intimidating and scaring him so he was less sure of himself and his behaviour. She also supported other patients who he loved to kick around so he didn’t have that either. They too started fighting back or outsmarting him and he lost his main source of power. Then the final nail in the coffin was how she separated him from all the other guards. She must’ve whispered rumours and got into their heads because they all soon started trying to separate themselves from him and it was obvious he was disliked. By the end of the week it was clear the guard was not happy here and by the weekend there was a new guard. When you asked the head guard told you he’d resigned. So Azula had held up her part of the bargain and you decided to keep yours. 

You approached Azula in the day room but she shook her head and told you she'd come to you tonight. You were confused how she’d manage to come to your room at night but sure enough you heard the lock click and there was Azula escorted by a guard. "You get half an hour" the guard said and she locked the door. “How did you do that?” you asked and Azula smiled “being Princess still has some perks...now Beifong. Why don't you begin?" she asked. You rolled your eyes but obeyed. "The truth is I don't know if I'm truly a Beifong but my mom said I was. Every day she used to tell me I mattered because my father was a Beifong. We might be penniless but I was descended from a huge dynasty. I mattered. Then things got worse the day I discovered I could earth bend. I struggled to control it and my bending wasn't the most subtle. From what I've heard most benders start off small, earth benders move rocks, fire benders small flames...mine was the opposite. I couldn't move a small stone but a rock the size of a man? No problem. My mom knew it was a crime to earth bend even in the earth nation so she knew what would happen if I was discovered with the gift in the Fire Nation. As I got more and more unstable she knew it was only a matter of time and so instead she smuggled me out of the Fire Nation and tried to take me to my father. She thought we'd be safe in the Earth Kingdom but we weren't. I can't remember much of what happened but when we finally got there we weren't treated well and my father refused to see her. My mother didn't stand for that and began making a fuss which got us captured. We were sold back to the Fire Nation as traitors. They said we were conspiring with the Earth Kingdom and had to be punished but I knew that was all lies. I'm here because my father did nothing to protect me or my mother despite being from one of the wealthiest families in the world. He did nothing to save her or me".

Azula was quiet for a while before she shook her head "I don't get it". "What's there to get? My family are assholes and so are yours". Azula shook her head once more "not that I understand just fine, what I don't get is how you could be such a coward". You tensed "excuse me?". "Your father betrayed you and your mother, he probably got her killed and you're just sitting here with no desire to escape? You've just accepted what he did to her?". "Of course not" you snapped and Azula rolled her eyes "okay so what have you done about it? How have you avenged her?". "What do you expect me to do? I'm trapped in a country that doesn't want me, the country people flee to also doesn't want me. I have no family or allies, the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom wouldn’t hesitate to have me arrested or worse and you expect me to break out and go murder one of the most prestigious families in the world? Fuck you". Azula raised her hands in surrender "all I hear are excuses, you won't receive justice if you don't fight for it. When you're done feeling sorry for yourself let me know". She stood up and walked to the door of your cell banging on it twice. The guard opened it and let her out. It took everything in your power not to make the doorway collapse on her. After that you didn't speak to Azula. You were so angry at her. How dare she come in here from her life of privilege and act like you were lazy. She had no idea what it meant to have nothing and nobody in the world...but another part of you was angry because she was right. You'd been complacent, you'd never even tried to break out or find out what happened to your mother because you were scared. Sure the psychiatric institute wasn't good but you also knew it could be a lot worse. You'd heard stories from other patients who’d been to prisons and seen what happened to the ones that caused trouble. You'd been scared so you just accepted your fate and were thankful things weren't worse. Now looking back on it though you just felt weak and for the first time since being called it hundreds of times you felt like a true traitor. Well not anymore. The universe had sent you the princess of the Fire Nation and she was planning to break out. You wanted in. You found Azula in her usual spot in the corner where she could best people watch. You came to sit beside her and tried to ignore the way she was staring at you but you couldn't. You sighed and met her amber eyes "you're right. I want revenge so how are we getting out of here?". Azula grinned "i thought you'd never ask". Azula already of course had the place scooped out she just needed some information which you readily supplied to her. You told her about the guards Zuko didn't replace aka the ones who might be loyal to her father instead. That was plan A. She'd strike a deal with one of the head guards and they'd just let you walk right out the front door. Plan B was a little trickier. "How destructive exactly was your bending?" Azula asked. You shrugged "I haven't used it in years but it used to cause mini quakes and I collapsed a hut once". Azula grinned "excellent". The plan was if the guards would let you out, you'd tear the place down. You were more than willing to do that. Azula was fairly sure the guards would let her out but still in case they didn't she had planned your escape route. You would do it at night and Azula chose a Friday night because that's when your target was working and when security was at its lowest.  The night of the escape Azula exited her cell and came to yours. The guard was now used to letting Azula roam around after hours so he let her out of her cell without any comment. He opened your cell and that’s when Azula decided to start. “We actually have another favour to ask you...or well a command. You’re going to unhandcuff us both to let us leave right now”. The man laughed “I am? And why is that?”. Azula smiled “because you’re a smart man. You were loyal to my father and are a strong nationalist. You’ve worked here 8 years yes? You’ve seen what my brother's rule has done to this country and how he’s putting us all in danger. I can fix that. I can defeat my brother and restore the Fire Nation back to the rightful order. All you need to do is let me and my friend go and I will remember your loyalty when I am Firelord I swear”. The guard was oddly quiet but you could see Azula’s words were affecting him. He seemed to agree with her deductions and disliked Zuko. You thought it might actually work when he sighed. “Look Princess I sympathise with you I really do...your father was a good man and what your brother is doing to this country is a travesty but he defeated you and sent you in here once so he can do it again...i’m not risking everything by betting on you”. Azula’s face changed immediately and the guard only now seemed to realise he was alone with the two of you. “Now go back into your cell and stop causing trouble” he said but neither of you moved. "You have no idea who you've just said no to" Azula told him and in one swift motion she swept her leg around and with firebending shattered your handcuffs. The man tried to push your cell door close but it was too late. The second your hands were free you cracked your wrists and threw the wall straight at the man. He managed to scream “guards” before he crumpled under the rubble. Azula meanwhile use firebending and snapped her own handcuffs off. "That felt good" you commented rushing out of your cell and Azula nodded "but don't celebrate yet". You could hear the guards coming up the stairs and Azula stepped forwards. You both hid on either side and Azula sent a wave of fire straight into them. The first 3 screamed but the others began firing back. Your bending was so destructive Azula had told you only to use it when absolutely necessary. If you kept yanking out walls then the building would just collapse on top of you. So you stepped back and watched Azula work. She was phenomenal. The speed and precision with which she attacked were unmatched and she easily took out the guards on the stairwell. You both descended to the next floor where several more were waiting. Azula quickly began to dispatch them and you waited when you felt something. You turned to see a guard in one of the rooms behind you. You hadn't been expecting that and only just managed to clench and collapse the doorway over him. He cried out and then you couldn't see him anymore. Azula shot you a warning look but things weren't going as you'd hoped. You could feel more guards coming up the stairs and there was already an alarm going off. "Azula we have 10 more coming up the stairs" you called. She grunted as a flame narrowly missed her and looked at you. "Collapse the stairs. Cut the lower levels off". "But we're three stories up!" you cried. "JUST DO IT!" she yelled and you turned to the stairs. You pulled at the ones on top and then fell down into the ones below. You could feel some guards still moving but they now couldn't reach you. Azula dispatched the last of the guards on this floor and turned to you. "This way". She directed you and then stopped at a room. “Break the wall” she told you and you obeyed. The patient inside the room screamed but Azula just yanked them out through the hole and pushed them onto the floor. She rushed into the room and to the window. She nodded and stepped back “I need you to break this all down”. You paused “but what if that causes the upper levels to collapse?”. She shook her head “this isn’t one of the main support walls, it should be fine”. “Should?” you asked but she shot you a look and so you nodded “okay geesh”. You focused on the wall and it began to crumble, cracks spreading up and down it. You could feel it give way and yanked Azula backwards as some of the floor went with it. You both ran back down the corridor as the cracks spread all over the building. “I said take the wall out not the whole building!” Azula yelled at you as the whole thing shook. “I told you I wasn’t good at it!” you screamed back and finally the shaking stopped. You and Azula paused as there was now a huge hole where half the building had been. Azula walked to the edge and nodded “we can make it down”. “We can? Are you an airbender as well as a Firebender or something”. “Just get on my back” Azula yelled and with only a slight hesitation you jumped onto her holding on tightly. “Brace yourself and don’t let go!” Azula yelled and she leapt off the building. You screamed profanities at her stupidity but then she began shooting jets from her feet and hands. It wasn’t enough to make you fly of course but it did mean instead of plummeting into the rubble below you managed to descend more slowly and reached the outer perimeter before plummeting to the ground. You landed hard but were okay. Azula jumped up immediately and grabbed your arm telling you to run but it was too late. Guards appeared and began to surround you. There weren’t any buildings around for miles so you’d be greatly outmatched in a chase. Azula stepped in front and created a circle of fire around you but you knew in a waiting game they’d win.It was in the middle of realising you’d lost when something happened. You felt as if a switch inside of you had been activated and you pushed Azula back and stood in the middle of the guards. You were not going to come this far and have it all taken away from you. You thought of your mother and pictured what you hoped was her face and screamed. Your sheer rage and anger caused ripples through the ground and it began to shake like an earthquake. The guards tried to keep upright but you channelled it right at them and the building, already unstable, crumpled. You purposefully didn’t let it collapse peacefully and it almost looked as if the building had imploded from inside. Finally when everyone was down you stopped screaming and dropped to the floor controlling your breathing. You counted remembering how your mother used to hold your hand and count with you to help you stop. You felt Azula beside you and she seemed to realise what you were doing. “Breathe y/n, in and out” she commanded and once again you obeyed. Your heart slowly stopped hammering and the ground began to calm. Finally every stopped and was still. There wasn’t a sound in the whole area and you opened your eyes to find Azula staring at you with a smile “you did it” she grinned.   Azula cheered and you were momentarily overwhelmed by well everything. The sunlight which you hadn't seen unstructured for 10 years. The feel of fresh air blowing across your skin. The fresh soil beneath your feet. But mostly the princess of the fire nation beside you who had a smile even the devil would cower to. She was so beautiful and fearsome all at once but you didn't feel scared. You were excited. "Ready to go topple the Fire Lord and Earth Kingdom monarchy?" she asked you "I know my brother is friends with the latest Beifong who I'm sure you're dying to meet".

__________

I hope you liked it @captainblunder! It was actually really fun to write a morally ambiguous character and let them be bad 

I also didn’t really put much romance in because I think Azula would be a slow burner and that’d be something that would develop after they start taking on Team Avatar together. Azula is not the type to fall for someone easily so I kept it pretty open and only hinted attraction. 

[lovelyleclercs]

Chapter Seven- Guilty Tears

Arthur Leclerc x Sofia Sine

->goodbye's have never been so hard for Arthur and Sofia, but this goodbye in particular held so much more behind it.

warnings: mentions of cancer, fighting cancer alone, mentions of death, I think that's it but please let me know if there is anything else, I don't know how cancer treatments actually go, I only ever heard of bits and pieces so if anything is wrong, I am sorry, I'm writing a fictional story regardless.

word count: 1500

a/n: I sobbed writing this one, sorry bestie boos

Seven days post treatment and Sofia was finally feeling somewhat normal again. 

This past treatment had taken a toll on her, knocking her off of her feet for five days straight- only waking up to go to the bathroom or to try to get some food and water in her system. 

Despite only sleeping most days, Arthur had never left her side once. Every time Sofia woke up, Arthur was in her bed, at her desk doing work, or even sitting on the floor reading a book. 

Sofia had told him countless times that he didn’t have to stay- that there were far more interesting things he could be doing than being cooped up in an apartment with her all week long while she slept her treatment pains away- but Arthur insisted on staying. 

When Sofia had finally been able to keep her eyes open for longer than an hour at a time, the two of them would watch a movie, talk about the upcoming F2 season, and eat food as long as Sofia could stomach it. 

Sofia had appreciated Arthur’s company, it made the idea of treatments and recovery just a little bit more bearable, though she knew it wouldn’t last for long. 

In a weeks time, the F2 season would be underway and Arthur would be home less and less, meaning that she would have to attend her treatments alone, recover from them alone, and fight off this horrible illness alone. 

The thing she hated the most about it though was the fact that she would be unable to attend any of the races this year- at least not for the first half of the season. 

Due to the intensity and side effects of her treatment, Dr. M had put Sofia on a strict no traveling ban. 

Thankfully though, F2 did race in Monaco and she would be able to see parts of the track from her bedroom window, but that wasn’t the same as attending a grand prix weekend with him. 

When Arthur came into Sofia’s room late that Wednesday night, she knew it was him coming to say goodbye. Arthur would be gone for three weeks, having no time to fly back home and visit in between race weekends. 

Sofia looked up from her book and saw Arthur standing in the doorway of her room, his face holding an expression of sadness and sorrow- almost as though he felt guilty for having to leave her. 

Arthur smiled sadly, walking over to her bed before sitting on the edge of it and picking up her hand gently. “I’ve gotta go… my flight leaves in an hour”

Sofia put her book down and nodded a little, her eyes meeting his for a moment. “Ok, have fun, I’ll be watching every session, you know that” 

Arthur nodded and looked down at their hands as he felt himself getting emotional. “I’m sorry I won’t be here for your next treatment… I really tried to get some time off to fly here for the day but it’s just not possible…”

Sofia squeezed his hand a little and nodded. “It’s ok, Art. I understand. You’ve got a busy season this year, I can’t expect you to be here with me 24/7 nor can I expect you to be able to come with me to every appointment”

Arthur sighed and shook his head “This isn’t fair, Sof. You should be coming with me. You should be with me for my first F2 race” 

Sofia teared up a little, the realities of how much this disease was truly taking from her finally hitting her. Arthur would never have a first F2 race again. She would be missing out on the start of what could potentially land him a seat in Formula 1- and she hated it. 

“I know, Arthur. I know…” she whispered, her voice beginning to crack as a few tears managed to slip down her face. 

Arthur pulled Sofia into a tight hug, not knowing what else to say or do. He hated the fact that he couldn’t even sit with her for very long-he was on a strict time schedule and this goodbye was already taking way longer than he had time for. “I’ve gotta go, but please know that I love you and that I'm here for you, even if I'm thousands of miles away, ok?”

Sofia nodded and pulled from the hug “I know, Arthur. I love you too”

Arthur sighed and let go of Sofia’s hand, pushing himself off of the bed as he made his way towards the door.

Sofia stared down at her fidgeting hands, already missing the hold Arthur’s hand had on them just seconds prior. Tears were falling down her face, a few drops landing on her hands in front of her. Silent cries, ones that she was hoping Arthur wouldn’t notice. She hadn’t expected this goodbye to be so hard- goodbyes were something her and Arthur were used to- but this one held so much more behind it. 

It meant she would be alone for the next three weeks- Nobody to hold her while she suffers through her treatment, nobody to wake her up just to try to get her to eat or drink, nobody to keep her company when she felt alone or sad

It meant missing out on seeing Arthur start his F2 career, something he had longed for and dreamed of ever since signing his F3 contract two years ago. 

But the one thing that weighed on her the most was the possibility that maybe this was the last time she’d ever see Arthur.

What if something happened when he was gone and she didn’t make it? The last memory she had of him would be that sad, guilt ridden face as he apologized for doing what he loved. 

Arthur turned around as he was about to walk out of her bedroom. He didn’t fail to notice the few tears dripping off of her face and onto her hands, nor did he fail to notice the way her breathing had increased despite her being able to keep her cries silent. His heart broke at the sight before him, knowing that he was partially to blame for the tears falling. 

Without saying another word, Arthur walked out of the room, knowing that even though it was the last thing he wanted to do right now, he didn’t really have a choice. 

He got out to the car, climbing into the back seat as Charles and Charlotte occupied both front seats. “Someone really should have stayed with her, you know” he mumbled, sort of as a stab at Charlotte for choosing to attend a race instead of sitting with her sister, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he was doing the same thing. 

He could’ve chosen to stay home with her. He could have chosen to take a year off of racing and hoped that Rene would give him his shot at F2 next year, but no.

He chose to leave her. 

He chose to let her fight this fight alone. 

He chose to fly thousands of miles away to pursue his dreams. 

“Sorry, that was rude of me to say, I'm sorry..” he whispered, his voice shaking as tears began to form in his eyes. 

“It’s ok…” Charlotte said as she noticed the pain in his voice. “She doesn’t want me anywhere near her.. She only trusts you right now… I hope you understand why i’ve chosen to attend the first grand prix”

Arthur nodded and looked out the window. Charlotte was right. Sofia had pushed everyone away except for him. She only trusted him. She could only be vulnerable with him. She didn’t want to be around anyone but him. “Do you think I made a mistake by leaving her? Should I have stayed?”

Charlotte shook her head. “You know she would be disappointed if you had chosen to stop racing to be by her side. That’s what she was afraid of in the beginning and the main reason why she waited so long to tell you. She wants you to do what you love, Arthur.”

“Yeah but I can always do it next year..”

Charlotte nodded a little. “I say we see how this first race goes and if she really can’t handle being alone, then you can reevaluate the situation, ok?”

Arthur nodded “yeah, ok” he said before staring out the window. 

Was this truly the right decision? 

Would Sofia be ok without him?

Would he be able to perform well with so much on his mind?

Maybe he should’ve stayed. 

Maybe he should have Charles stop the car so he could run back to her apartment and hold her in his arms again. 

Maybe she would be ok without him.

Maybe she can handle this on her own.

Maybe she wants nothing more than to fall asleep in his arms.

Maybe she’s scared of fighting this alone.

Maybe tragedy will strike and leave them both wishing they would have done something different…

[jess-the-vampire]

I hate how people defend Star without thinking much, just because she’s the main protagonist doesn’t mean she’s flawless and innocent.

listen, i love star vs, but it's a hot mess, i'm critical about it so much because i know it had the potential to be REALLY good and the crew fell off the wagon HARD.

it should say a lot that me, a fan, doesn't want a continuation of the show in the future, the ending is just THAT bad to me. It's so bad i feel there's nothing much to look forward to in a future spinoff continuing this canon.

and i want desperately to say this show was fantastic all the way through, but it's not a show you can rewatch because of what you know is going to happen to the plot points, characters, ect ect

i stick to aus for a reason.

and look, toh isn't perfect either, i have pointed out some aspects in it that feel contradictory or not as explained or not handled as great as it could of been.

But toh, even tho it's not flawless and has these issues, is still watchable and still mostly enjoyable all the way through. I feel i can at least trust the crew of toh, to have some idea what they're doing as far as arcs and story, even if it's not perfect 100%.

It's not like with star where you'll have an episode about how "Oh, marco and kelly are thinking about being a thing and marco wants to move on from star cause he actually likes kelly and he feels he needs to move on".

And then like several eps later they break up offscreen, between episodes, for no real reason and it never gets acknowledged again as marco goes back to liking star and that possible character development goes out the window.

Star vs had so many issues it renders the show impossible to rewatch, that's how much of these problems caused it to collapse on itself.

people really REALLY push to defend the finale, but if you have to ignore established canon and/or defend genocide of beings in an anti genocide show to tell me why this is all ok, i think you're already on a bad foot.

and i could go on and on about everything wrong with this but let's keep this simple when it comes to Star herself. Star is a flawed character, which is fine, she should be, but it got to a point where her flaws stopped becoming things she needs to overcome and just aspects the team either didn't see as problems, or just ignored.

and this is the team who brought us Tom and Eclipsa, two flawed characters who make mistakes, but apologize, are sympathetic, are beloved for a reason.

Star, and marco for that matter, stop being likable people because their flaws are never properly fixed by the end.

One of the main flaws being they constantly put each other over everyone else, to a point it comes off unhealthy and makes them seem unlikable and selfish.

marco and star abandoning everyone by jumping back in the well? Never thinking about the weight of destroying magic to the multiverse outside of their own selfish desires? Star's entire treatment of her own boyfriend? Going off to have a love confession as people are dying in a war outside? and so, so much more,

It really feels looking back, starco made them worse as people, not better.

And i think the crew wanted us to come out thinking the complete opposite without realizing or ignoring the fact that the ship was bringing out some of their worst traits and by not acknowledging it, it made things worse.

Because acknowledging it makes the ship look bad, and the team doesn't like doing that. Star might of been the main character of the show, but she came out of it being very hard to like, all because the team wanted to push their own biases and ideas without considering other aspects of the series and how bad it made star look as a person.

it's sad man, there was so much potential for her to have a good arc here.

When you want to write a main lead and you take inspiration from this show, have a character more like Tom and Eclipsa, not like Star.

[thenotsoholyspirit]

✨The Devil’s in the Details✨

(Pt 3/?)

(Matt Murdock x Reader)

AU: Well here's the third chapter, I hope you're liking it so far. I'll try to work on my other story these days so if I don't make an update on this one its just that I may be a bit overwhelmed by Uni Thanks ❤️❤️

(Part two in here

Summary: Trying to makes end meet as a young woman has never been easy, even less living in the turbulent city that is New York. When (y/n) will have to make an impossible choice, she'll have to decide between the ones she cares the most. It's never safe to fall in love, especially with that mysterious lawyer at the bar she's been working at and the secret she guards underneath.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/—/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

I have always hated the smell of Hospitals.

As I enter the long term aisle, the scent of bleach and hand sanitizer already overwhelms my senses. My head is already starting to turn.

Saturdays were my only free day of the week, and visiting my mother in the morning has been my routine for quite a while now.

I finally reach her room as I softly knock at her door frame.

“Is Miss Emmerston here ?”

I smile at her as she’s already awake eating her breakfast. I was happy to see her being able to eat solid food again, even if I knew how tasteless the meals here usually were.

“Honey.” She softly smiles back at me, “You came in early today” 

My mother’s voice has always been so sweet. 

Looking at her, I understand how people so often say I’m her carbon cop, the only difference being the color of my skin that I surely inherited from my father. 

“How are you feeling this morning mom ?”

“Not bad… not bad… Doctors have said my last treatment has been giving good results ”

I’ll never know what triggered it all, but I still have the vivid image of my mother laying on the ground as I had to call the emergency number. A late diagnosis of HF they told me, lucky she even made out at this stage. 

Apparently it was a family issue as they also did some exams on me and discovered I did need a pacemaker. I had to decline it as I couldn’t afford it. 

I’ve been ok for now I'll manage  

Of course the total bill didn’t come in cheap, especially as my mother had to often prolong her stays at the hospital.

“I have a good feeling this time” 

I force myself to smile at her. 

I didn't want to worry her either about my current situation and she seemed to be genuinely happy. 

She suddenly gives me a curious look, a little smirk being visible on her lips.

“What about you honey… any special news ?” She murmured, “Any boyfriend out there ?”

I slightly blush as she asks me so, unwillingly thinking about Matt.

“Mom…y know I ain't got time for that stuff”

My mother gives me a sad smile shaking her head 

“You’re so young and pretty, you also need to enjoy life y'know honey”

I look out the window, thinking about my late night conversation with Fisk. He hasn’t reached for me yet.

“I will… I will… for now I'm here for you”

I take her hand as I hold it with a strong grip, giving her a kiss on her forehead.

I'll get you through this mom. No matter what it may cost me

“Anyways” , I lighten my tone a bit as I get some needles and wool from my bag, “It’s time we continue to knit that scarf.. shall we ?“

……….

She hasn’t called in yet.

Maybe it was a bit rushed, but it's been some days and he hasn’t heard anything from the waitress at Josie’s . Matt has started to question if his idea of leaving a contact card was the correct one.

“Matt,  you stop pacing around the room please ?” Foggy murmurs slightly annoyed “I’m trying to read up some papers here”

Matt shakes his head, he wouldn’t admit he was hoping for her call

“Sorry for that Foggs”, he sits down “I’m just trying to come out with a good opening statement for this case” 

“Bullshit, you’re thinking about that girl aren’t you “

Matt sighs, he wasn’t in the mood to have that conversation. Foggy smiles, taking it as an affirmation of his suspicions.

“You could’ve actually given her your number rather than your lawyer credentials” Foggy couldn’t hide is smirk, “She may have thought you were in search of a client, not a date”

Matt chuckles softly as he can’t help but to be humored by Foggy's remark.

“What about both ?” Matt interjects “I can’t explain it, Foggs.. there’s something about her..”

“So you’re attracted to her?”

“No.. o well yes… o well I meant.. I couldn’t exactly read her…it was intriguing”

Foggy didn’t seem to be fully following.

“She was clearly attracted to you too mate.. especially with you using that charm”

Matt shakes his head, that wasn’t the point he was trying to get across. It was mostly obvious (y/n) was attracted to him, her heartbeats increasing and the temperature of her skin getting hotter too. Yet, she didn’t even dare to take a risk at him that night. Not one word, not even a playful tone, it’s like she is holding herself back. Matt could also sense her being overstimulated by the environment yet did not falter to smile once.

“I’m not sure how to explain it…”

He thinks back at the conversation he couldn’t help but to ear drop, as he learned she was the one taking care of her mother.

“I just feel she may also need our help”. 

Foggy stands up as he lets out a chuckle, patting Matt's shoulder.

“I think you’re just trying to justify yourself in here “, as he’s about to leave the room he gives Matt a look “Just try to drop the virtuous vigilante stuff for once and have some fun all right ?” 

Matt resigns as he simply nods

“I will Foggs I will… see ya tomorrow”

As Matt is now alone in his office, he wonders if he should be the one to call back.

The memory of her sweet perfume, soft voice and nervous chuckles returns to his mind again.

All night he could sense her going back and forth serving clients, as he had hoped he could have talked to her more.

Guess that’ll stay a mystery 

Suddenly the phone rings, and Matt is surprised someone had called in so late

“Nelson and Murdock ?”

“Matt is that you.. I don’t know if you remember but you gave me that card… at Josie’s ?”

It was her voice. He freezes for a second until he continues with a nonchalant tone.

“(y/n) glad to hear you.. listen it's late now but we could continue this conversation tomorrow afternoon if you’re free” 

The voice on the other side of the line hesitates slightly but continues.

“I’ll be working… but I could do a cup of coffee during my lunch break “

“Any place in mind or-

“What about Owls Cafe, its not to far from my  job”

Matt liked her decisiveness

“Works for me… then meet ya there at 12 all right ?”

 “All right… goodnight Matt”

“Goodnight”

He hangs as a little smirk appears on his face.

This girl had piqued his curiosity indeed. 

[mystery-talks-chaos]

Yippee, new story!!!

__________________________

Summary:

Miles (soon to be known as Tails) has never had a family of his own...

What happens when he gets fostered one more time before meeting a specific blue blur..

------

Kemonomimi AU (They are basically human, but have animal ears and Tail/s)

Story:

Miles sat in the back seat of the car, staring at the window with blank eyes, watching as the place he thought he would call one day home faded out of sight.

 

Maybe he just wasn’t meant to have a home. Nor a family to call his own. Maybe he was just destined to be alone forever…

 

“I can’t believe it, Miles!” The caretaker driving the car said, “Even freaks like you should be able to find a home after the fifth time! You haven’t even spent a full week in that house!”

 

Miles just ducked his head and looked down, forcing himself to not speak a peep. Everyone hated it when he did. It always got him kicked out… 

 

But then again, everything he did got him kicked out.

 

“Never in my life have I seen a kid go to five homes, FIVE HOMES, and get rejected within a month! Never!” The caretaker continued rambling, throwing Miles harsh glares every few minutes through the mirror. 

 

“What made you think touching those glass cups was a good idea? Why did you decide to just randomly touch them!? Have you never seen glass before?!” Miles winced, holding back his large explanation to why he accidentally broke the glass cup. “Why do you keep messing things up?! Can you just keep your hands to yourself? Why are you such a freak? Huh?! You don’t only look like a freak, but you HAVE to get attention! You HAD to break the glass cup to get them to look at you! You couldn’t stand the fact that you are a FREAK and that NO ONE wants to see you?!”

 

…

 

And that’s how the rest of the car road went…

 

The caretaker continued rambling about how bad Miles was, while Miles just sat there still, careful to not move, nor say a word. He pretended as though the words being spat at him didn’t hurt, because it shouldn’t! He deserved it! He should have been more careful washing the dishes! He deserves the harsh treatment! He can’t do anything right!

 

That didn’t stop the acting feeling in his heart though…

 

“Starting this Monday you will be going to a new school called Chaos High,” the headmaster of the orphanage said.

 

Miles nodded obediently, showing that he was paying attention.

 

“As you can tell, this new family has high expectations for you, so don’t blow it up. You should be lucky that you were offered a home this many times, don’t ruin it this time…” The headmaster said, before excusing Miles.

 

Miles headed back with new found hope. Despite the harsh words of the headmaster, he couldn't help but think of the bright side of the situation.

 

 Maybe this family will like him and adopt him! He can’t blow this up! He would do everything asked from him without questioning! Maybe Miles wouldn’t have to grow up alone, without anyone! 

 

(Deep down, he knew this wasn’t true… If the first five homes didn’t work out, why would the sixth work?)

 

Miles went to the small closet, which was deemed to be “his room” whenever he stayed at the orphanage. Pulling out his ripped backpack, Miles started placing the few things he owned in it. 

 

After packing (which only took 5 minutes), he sat in his closet and laid against the wall, thinking.

 

He can’t afford to lose this opportunity! He already lost five, he can’t lose a sixth! He can’t always go back and forth between foster homes! This might even be the last time he gets fostered! He won’t afford to lose this chance! He can’t! 

 

Miles sighed again, his mind drifting off from his previous foster homes, to the new one… Maybe this one would be better… Maybe they won’t hate his two tails and instead like them… Maybe they would keep him if he tried hard enough…Maybe this time it will be different…

 

 

 

Spoiler: it wasn’t.

 

When his foster family arrived, Miles stood next to the headmaster, standing tall, with him back straight, but remembering to keep his gaze down…

 

That was something Miles learnt to do since he was five. He knew his place in the world, and knew better than to look up. He was taught not to look up! Not to make eye contact at all… So he didn’t.

 

He felt the harsh glare of the parents pierce through his head, but he continued to look down. After a quick introduction between the two, in which Miles took care not to say a word, the headmaster requested to speak with the parents in private. Miles took this as an opportunity to look up at the only other people left. 

 

It was a boy and a girl- adopted, Miles concluded. 

 

The two were rather average looking people. The girl was around 12. She had dark brown hair which was pulled in a ponytail, making her cat ears visible. She was also wearing a casual pink dress, with her tail appearing from below. 

 

The boy, on the other hand, seemed to be part wolf. His pitch black hair blended with the black shirt he was wearing. He also seemed to be older than the girl, around 13 or 14 if Miles had to guess.

 

One thing Miles couldn’t help but realize the two had in common was that they were wearing neat clothes, and they got to act and complain to the parents whenever they wanted without getting punished. They also didn’t seem to have any bruises or scratches, both of their skins were smooth like any other person (except Miles, himself).

 

Deep down, Miles knew that that should not have surprised him; however, through the five foster homes he has been to, if he looked the foster parents in the eye, he would have had the beating of a lifetime…

 

This also brought Miles an unforeign feeling of hope… It was childish, he knew; however, he couldn’t help but think that this family would be better and keep him! They kept the other two kids! They might keep him!

 

(He might be bringing his hopes up, but hey! What’s wrong with having wishful thinking once in a while?)

 

“Hey, what are you looking at, freak?!” The part wolf boy exclaimed.

 

Despite having always been called by the name freak, it takes Miles a second to realize that he was the one being addressed.

 

“U-uh! S-sorry… I-I w-wasn’t- I wasn’t looking a-at any-anything…” Miles managed to stutter out.

 

“Don’t lie! You were looking at me! What?! Jealous that you would never get the life I have? Well, duh!” The boy rambled, while the girl beside him nodded, paying attention to the conversation. She wore the same disgusted look as her brother… The look Miles had seen too many people wear when looking at him. “If you think that my parents are fostering you to love you, then you are wrong! They won’t love you! And I hate the fact that they want to foster you!”

 

Miles looked down in shame. In all honesty, he knew that was true… It was why most people fostered him… They get more money for fostering a freak, than they get for fostering a normal person… But that still didn’t remove the feeling of hurt he was feeling deep down…

 

 

When Miles first arrived at his new home he learned that he was expected to call the parents Mr and Mrs. Evans, and that the name of their son and daughter (who turned out to indeed be adopted) was Charlie and Lilly. 

 

He was then shown out to the small shed in the yard. At first he was confused to why he was brought out there; however, Mrs. Evans then explained to him.

 

“Things will work differently around here. This,” she said while opening the door, revealing a small dark, bare room. The room was empty in exception of the blanket that was laid on the floor. “Is going to be your room. You are not to leave it at all at night. I wake up around eight in the morning, and the rest around half an hour later. When I’m awake, I expect the whole house to be cleaned. 

 

“Your school, as I believe that orphanage headmaster told you, is Chaos High, and it starts at nine. You will start tomorrow, and should see the principle there. Here is the letter with everything you should know." Miles gently took the note, seeing that he will have to read it later.

 

"And do we offer you food? Only once a day for the first week. After that we will give you some money which you will be responsible for. You are also expected to keep the house clean when you are here. But I don't want to see your face too often, you understand?"

 

Miles simply nodded, before the woman decided to go back into the house leaving Miles outside alone. It was only when she left did a small smile appear on his face. 

 

He can do this… Starting tomorrow he will do everything expected from him, with no question and to the best of his ability! He won't lose this chance! He can't! 

 

Who cares if he has to wake up earlier than normal? Or not enough food to satisfy his stomach. 

 

Exactly! No one! This is why he will give this chance! 

 

He can't! 

 

…He won't…

[norbezjones]

I've been thinking a lot about something concerning Romance The Backrooms, so I wanted to write it down and share it.

Content Warning: Discussion of suicidal thoughts, self harm, mental health issues, and homelessness. There is a hopeful ending.

I got the idea for RtB in October, when I was living on a friend's couch and trying to find permanent housing. That ended up being a really difficult month for me, because I self-harmed for the first time in months and, as a result, I went to inpatient.

I was there for a while, and I got better. With all the time I had in thee, I worked on creative things, and really fleshed out RtB. I couldn't live with my friend anymore after October ended, but the social worker told me that she would find me a group home.

However, when I was transferred to a different wing of the hospital, I was given a new social worker. And this one said that I couldn't get into a group home, and he was going to discharge me into a homeless shelter asap.

That resulted in a spike of suicidal thoughts. Why had I come this far, only for this to happen to me? Should I just end it? But, no--if I did that, who would be around to make Romance The Backrooms? If my light snuffed out now, that game would never be made.

I've been suicidal since I was 10 years old, and it's usually nor big, grand things that make me want to stay alive. It's the dogs I would never pet and the movies I'd never be able to watch that make me say, "One more day." And RtB became my "One more day." It became the reason why I persevered.

After I was discharged, my friends told me that I still needed inpatient help & psychiatric care. So after touching things out for a few days, I brought myself to the ER and was admitted. A few days later, I was brought to another inpatient, and two weeks later, that inpatient sent me to a short-term residential program.

It was a wonderful program, and I met some fantastic people there. I also worked more on RtB--I figured out all of my love interests, and drew them for the first time. On the characters profiles, which you can view here, there are drawings with the description, "Concept art from when I was in treatment in December 2023." These were all done while I was at the residential program.

I was able to scrounge up some money to be able to get an Airbnb after I discharged--it was cheaper than other options, and would hopefully be temporary while I searched for permanent housing.

Unfortunately, finding housing is difficult when you haven't worked in 2 years (mainly thanks to pseudo-dementia, which I've documented extensively in this game here), and don't have the money for a security deposit. I also wasn't poor enough or disabled enough to get help from the government. Very unfortunate.

Long story short, I ran out of funds to stay at the Airbnb in 2 months. I was able to get into a short-term housing program for homeless folks with mental health issues. That was when I met Kevin.

Kevin told me he could help me get hotel & housing vouchers if I went with him after our time at the program was done. I had no other options, so I did. I spent the money I had keeping us afloat at a motel while we waited for the voucher, and went across the state to a different one when Kevin told me the one we were at wouldn't accept the voucher. When he left to retrieve it, I waited very patiently for him to return.

He never did.

I suspect the whole thing was some sort of scam all along, and even though part of me knew it could be, I went with it because it was either go with Kevin, or go to the homeless shelter.

The next day, I had to check out of the motel--I had literally no money left. I gathered my bags and sat in the lobby--well, I say lobby, but there weren't any chairs or tables, so I was basically sitting on the ground in the corner of the room, with sun from the window scorching my back--while I tried to come up with a plan.

I made a lot of phone calls to people who might be able to help me, but nothing came through. Even 211 had nothing, because the homeless shelters in the town I was in were full.

I became suicidal again at that moment. Again, the eternal question: why had I come this far, only for this to happen to me? Should I just end it?

No, goddammit. If I go now, Romance The Backrooms will never be made, I thought to myself. I want to be around to make it. I want to be around to see it through. Come on, Bez. Things looks like shit, but let's keep going anyway.

Not long after that thought came to my mind, another person entered my head, someone else I could call. I wavered, but eventually decided to try calling them, and they answered. They were able to help.

It's thanks to them that I am where I am today. I have housing for a while, and I got a job that I'm satisfied with.

Best of all, I'm working on Romance The Backrooms.

I'm so happy I stayed around to see it through.

[teenage-mutant-ninja-freak]

The Fall part 2

Mob!Donnie childhood AU

Summary: Donnie is young and hasn't quite learned to hate the world yet. He's fighting for his and his family's freedom but when you're locked in chains, do you bite the hand that holds the keys? Who can really be trusted?

Warnings: dark, mentions of being held against your will, violence, child abuse ect. Just dark, so take caution.

The cascade of birdsong from the near by forest is what woke him. Although it was late spring, the mornings still held a chill that allowed Donnie to see his breath in the cell that he was kept in. Light streaming in through the barred window. Singular window. Sometimes he thought it was to stop him and his brothers looking out but more often he guessed it was to stop others seeing them.

He would wake before the others, normally. Splinter would be the last to rise, still exhausted from whatever challenge the previous night's show had thrown at him. These mornings were lonely, Donatello would mostly spend them close to tears wondering if and when he could escape this prison and what sort of world it could be for him and his family. This morning was different, however. For, this morning, he had a opportunity to feed the lions with Frank.

He threw himself out of bed and scurried to the door to leave, trying to walk without too much determination else anyone else who was up would think he was escaping. It did not take him long to find the trailer where the lions were kept. Beautiful creatures, he thought. Already awake and ready for their meal, pacing up and down, low growls and snarls escaping their canine bared mouths. It made his heart pound with a mixture of fear and excitement. He had only ever been this close when fighting them. He wished he didn't have to, that he could care for them instead; but that was not his fate.

"When destiny dealt her cards, she left us a few short" is what his father always used to say. Donnie always hated that. This idea that they could not change their life's path, that everything was set in stone, that this cruelty was forever, that-

"There you are!" came a familiar voice. It was Frank. He came striding over and gave the young turtle a pat on the back along with a friendly smile. "I was beginning to think you'd stood me up".

"No, I wouldn't. Never" he began to stutter out but Frank simply laughed and handed him a pair of metal kitchen tongs.

"Here, yer gonna need these else you'll lose a finger or two. Billy here don't mess around when it comes to his breakfast"

Extending the bucket out to him, Donatello clasped a piece of meat with the tongs and fed it through the bars of the cage into a gratified lion's mouth. The snarls and noises rose then as the other lions came to compete for their food. When it went too far, Frank would bang on the cage with a large stick to break up the fight. It reminded the turtle of fights with his brothers- all punching and scratching for the last bite of bread, the scrapings around a bowl of oatmeal.... Pathetic was the word that came to his mind.

It must have shown on his face as well as Frank asked him if there was something he needed to talk about. There was.

Donatello spoke, uninterrupted for 40 minutes. He spoke of how he came to be what he is, how they are kept here against their will, the fighting, the loneliness, the treatment from other show members, the hunger, the cold... All of this he spoke and Frank simple stood and listened, occasionally running a hand over the stubble covering his chin.

"Man oh man..." he began. "That's a hell of a life story, kid. I'm sorry. Real sorry. I wish there was something, anything, I could -" his eyes lit up and a smile grew across his face "Hey, kid? You ever heard of quid-pro-quo?"

"No, what is that?" Donnie's eyes grew wide with anticipation.

"It's you doing something for me, and me doing something for you in return. See, there's a reason I'm here. My ex, see, I love her still. She works here, started after getting in a lil trouble with the law, only place that'd take her. I want her back real bad but she don't have the time of day for me. If you could get her to talk to me, well... This time next week I'll pack you and your family up in my old truck here and we'll be on our way. Real quiet and all, they'd not even know yer gone til it's too late"

Hope.

There was hope still for them. Fuck fate and her shitty cards, Frank was a hero, he was a shining beacon of light that would raise Donnie and his family up out of the darkness. Donatello's mind began to race with so many questions. What did the world look like? Where would they go? What do other states look like? Would they survive? Before he could sink into his thoughts anymore, Frank set out one condition for this plan: Donnie was not to tell anyone. That was the only rule and Donatello thought it easy, who could he tell? Frank was his only friend.

His ex's name was Jenna and she was a tightrope walker and acrobat. She pulled in a decent crown most nights of the week, mainly for her beauty and tight outfits. The number of time he had heard women scolding their husbands outside of the show tent for looking where they shouldn't be...

Frank told him there would be one problem, Jenna was seeing someone, but he assured that if he could get 5 minutes in private with her, he could surely win her back. They would meet in the clearing of the forest, by the stream, at 11pm that night.

You can't fuck this up he thought to himself. Your freedom, their freedom depends on this one thing. Don't fuck it up.

________________________________

It took all of half an hour to find Jenna, she was sat outside her trailer at a vanity mirror finishing up her makeup. Lips puckered as he dotted on the last few bits of gloss.

"Ehr hmm" Donnie cleared his throat "excuse me, Jenna? I know you don't know me bu-"

"Oh I know you alright. You're one of the rat's kids. Look, I don't wanna be rude but you gotta go, if anyone see's you talking to me... I won't last much longer here" it sounded more like a desperate plea than the scorn her was used to.

You can't give up this easily!

"Frank actually sent me"

The look on her face changed something fierce. "You tell that son-of-a-bitch that I-"

"He's sorry" Donnie interrupted. "He's sorry for everything. What he said, what he did, how he went about things. He knew you'd never let him get close enough to tell you himself, so he sent me."

"Why?" She seemed interested now.

He could see his words were starting to effect her. A woman scorned and the man who did the scorning was crawling back on his hands and knees.

"He was telling me about you, how you're the most beautiful woman he's ever met, the smartest too. Said he misses you more than he ever thought possible. He just wants to make it up to you. The woods near the stream and 11 tonight. Please don't leave him heartbroken, it's eating him up inside"

Even Donnie knew that last part was a nice touch, the sad 6 year old eyes combined with a little feeding of her ego. He'd never heard the word manipulation before but it wouldn't be long before that word would be thrown at him by every lover he took when he became a fully grown man.

"Ok, ok, kid! I'll go see him" She was trying to hide a smile "Now go, people are starting to look, get outta here!"

Walking back to his room, Donnie could feel his heart skip. Soon he would be free with his family. They'd go to the beach and the movies and they could live as people, not freaks, not abominations. They would find a home with soft couches and warm beds. There would never be a need to fight again.

He felt lighter, as if a 100 ton weight had been lifted off his back. Closing the door to his room, he would say nothing of his morning to his family, only smile and wait for the slop that was called breakfast to arrive so they could eat and bicker over who's portion was bigger.

As night fell, he would gaze out the window constructing romantic fantasies about how Frank would win Jenna back and the life they would all have together. He would fall asleep to these dreams- a better future just around the corner.

The next morning , he awoke to screams.

[sleepis4theweak]

...I would like to hear the lorax and sewage treatment rants. pls? And the presentation on your favorite turtles and the science/philosophy puns

*insert puppy dog or kitty cat eyes here*

~😺

Oh you sweet sweet anon... you have no idea what you just got yourself into...

WELL I MEAN IF YOU INSIST-

Whatever length you're expecting it to be, its longer SO:

Okay SO- The Lorax:

There are two different Lorax movies. One is from 1972, the other is from 2012. The one from 1972 is only 25 minutes long! And you can watch it here.

The 1972 Lorax is much much darker than the 2012 one. And the main difference between the two is the Once-ler. The Once-ler is supposed to represent companies, and company greed. In the 1972 one, the Once-ler is faceless. He is simply two arms (and sometimes two legs) with green gloves. He's not supposed to be any one person, he's supposed to represent the company. In the 2012 one, the Once-ler does have a face. In fact, he has a whole backstory and everything! This was supposedly so that kids could connect to the Once-ler. They were supposed to see the Once-ler as a real person, and therefore a real threat instead of some boogy man shrouded in the dark. However, 2012 ended up messing up the Once-ler, and therefore the original message of the Lorax.

(MAJOR SPOILERS IM DESCRIBING THE WHOLE MOVIE WHOOPS)

The 1972 Once-ler appeared in the world quickly, and immediately set up shop. He started producing thneeds quickly, and made sales immediately. When the Lorax challenged him, he replied, "It's only one tree." He called in his family so he could have more manpower and make more Thneeds. He began mass producing Thneeds, and more and more trees were cut down. You can see how trash begins to accumulate and the air gets darker and darker, there are more and more stumps littering the area. He orders roads to be paved and the town grows. He expands his empire and starts selling Once-ler cones and burgers. He was making a lot of money. The environment got worse and worse until finally the Lorax (who had been pleading with him to stop this entire time) said that he would have to send the Brown Bar-ba-loots away because they were starving without the fruits from the Truffula trees. You can actually see two of the Bar-ba-loots carry another between them because they are so hungry. THIS is when the Once-ler first shows any signs of empathy. He wonders if he is bad, if he should stop. He has a literal conversation with himself, before reasoning it away and yoinking down a blind decorated to look like a blue sky over the window showing a destroyed environment. He keeps going, until the Lorax appears to tell him that he must send the Swomee Swans away because the now toxic air was making them very very sick. The Once-ler reasons away concerns again. Finally the Lorax appears to tell the Once-ler that he is sending away the Humming Fish, because they water is too toxic for them. Finally the Once-ler is like... maybe I should stop. He agrees to stop only for someone to call and say, "Hey! Sales are up!" And he's immediately like "FUCK THE ENVIRONMENT, FUCK THE LORAX AND FUCK THE TRUFFULA TREES LETS GOOOOOOO" (I'm paraphrasing). Only then the last tree is cut down and production stops. The Lorax is disappointed and leaves, leaving only the "Unless" circle. Blah blah blah time passes. You see that the city is absolutely destroyed. Everything is wrecked. Some kid comes along and the Once-ler gives him a seed and is like... "maybe ur the unless. Since I majorly suck u know?" THE END! :)

THE 2012 LORAX HOWEVER- THAT SHIT IS DIFFERENT.

In the 2012 Lorax the Once-ler appears and is like!!! Omg!! Nature! Hello bears!!! :) Have marshmallows!!!!!!! He chops down a tree. The Lorax appears and is like, "Don't do thaaaaat :((" and long story short he agrees to not chop down the trees. Then his family swoops in and is like haha ITS US >:) WE R GONNA EMOTIONALLY ABUSE U NOW UNTIL U CUT DOWN TREES YOU IDIOT >:)))))))

...

So he does. And then his company grows and grows and grows. He has the whole "How bad can I be?" song (which absolutely fucking slaps by the way). In which, he basically sings about how he has no idea what he's doing. It's somewhat similar to the 1972 Once-ler's little self talks, but instead of knowing what he's doing is bad and then choosing money over it, 2012 Once-ler doesn't fully realize that he's doing harm. He's being pushed by his family, he is just very swept up in the gaining money bit. He also doesn't look back at the damage he's caused. He comes off as a naive lil entrepreneur who didn't realize the harm he was causing until it was too late, and the last tree had been chopped down.

Overall, instead of the "Corporates do not have the public's best interest at heart and we need to regulate them" message that the 1972's Lorax had, the 2012 Lorax had the message, "Corporates aren't baaadd.... they just... they don't realize they are doing harm :("

AND THEN (yes there's more)- YOU HAVE THE LEGEND HIMSELF- O'HARE!!!!!! He's tiny. He's evil. He is absolutely unrealistic. O'Hare ALSO represents the corporate. But in the wroooong way. O'Hare is unrealistic, and so I don't associate companies with him in the same way I do the 1972 Once-ler. He takes the attention away from the 2012 Once-ler as well. And he's just a strange dude.

Also in 2012 there is no reason for saving the earth. When I watch the 1972 Lorax I leave thinking, "Hey! Corporates need to be regulated and if we don't we are gonna be in real trouble. Very sick and with terrible air quality and toxic water. In 2012 the people live there just fine. Sure, there's smog, (and I do actually like how O'Hare mentions actively making the environment worse to increase demand for his air) but the people there are healthy and happy. They just decide to save the earth because uhhhhh well... who knows! Because they look pretty? Because they dislike O'Hare? Because they wanted to get a tree for their crush?

I'll stop there... but ITS VERY INTERESTING OKAY A LOT OF THE MESSAGES GOT DILUTED IN THE 2012 MOVIE.

--------

Now as for sewage plants heh heh heh hehhhhh

THERE ARE 4 STAGES!!! (AND SOMETIMES MORE BUT I WON'T GO INTO THAT)

They are: preliminary, primary, secondary and tertiary!

I won't discuss them all because this post is already so so soooo long... BUT I WILL DISCUSS MY FAV MWAHHAHAHA

Primary treatment!!! <3

So you get that raw sewage and you screen it, you get out all the big stuff in there like baby wipes, and large pieces of plastic. The post-screening sewage then moves into a comminutor. It slices up that raw sewage and sends it off to the grit chamber. The grit chamber sloooows down that sewage and then lets grit and such settle and get removed/funneled out.

Finally that sewage goes to the primary clarifier (my love <3) its basically a large tank, and the sewage just... sits there. All the heavy stuff sinks to the ground, and some stuff can rise to the top. They scrape all the stuff off the top and take the stuff out the bottom. That sewage sludge (poop and such) goes to treatment and disposal. What's left is (mostly) water and it is cleaned further in the other stages!

Sometimes when I am in a car I pass by the big primary clarifiers and I'm like!!! LOOK!!! PRIMARY TREATMENT!!!! ... and people think I'm insane... (tho people who know me are used to it lol).

I also used to go to a middle school where they was a sewage plant right next to us and they did Primary treatment and lemme tell you- it smelled AWFUL. SO BAD. I did get to see the primary clarifiers tho!!! Because my school did a tour there... for some reason... I didn't appreciate it at the time haha. But now I think its cool!!! :)

This ask is getting too long... so I'll stop now but I mean... feel free to send me another ask about my fav turtles or pun t shirts hehe <3

[alifeasvivid]

This is the "ghost" document that I mentioned in that one post. Arthur's a witch and he has a big black dog named Toad and he helps get the dead where they need to go so they don't become ghosts and Alfred is........... someone he's supposed to help >.> I actually don't remember how I got this idea; basically I really like it when Arthur is actually really good at magic and then it spiraled out into this sorta fantasy au where magic exists, ordinary people know about it, and practitioners of magic are generally as much a part of society as anyone else. And also Arthur's kind of a spooky guy who gets a teeeeeeny bit of mary-sue treatment for my personal enjoyment... as a treat.

I don't think I will continue this, even though I know the plot of it, but I like it too much not to share, I guess P:

cw: homophobic slur, violence, also technically major character death, but it's a story about ghosts so... >.>

An overcast sky has the morning sunlight shifting in and out of Arthur Kirkland’s modest cottage. The air in mid-April is cool and crisp, but promises warmth; a promise on which it may or may deliver and it hasn’t decided yet.

A massive, shaggy, black dog of indeterminate breed dozes on the kitchen floor near his master’s feet. Arthur brews his morning tea, dressed in black from head to toe, black shoes, pressed black slacks, and a black sleeveless shirt with a mock turtleneck, leaving his heavily tattooed arms on display.

Most of the tattoos are sigils, some are gifts, and some are purely aesthetic.

Steam rises from a ceramic mug as Arthur removes the strainer containing leaves and petals of rosemary, thyme, and marigold. He’d have much rather had his usual Earl Grey, but he will need stronger protection today. He flavors the tea with neither his customary cream or sugar, instead using only a small drizzle of lavender honey.

The sun peeks in through the parlor window.

Arthur raises his eyebrow in that direction.

A cloud ushers the sun away again.

Today is not a day for sunshine.

Arthur moves into the parlor from the kitchen and the dog pads along after him. He sits on the small sofa and his green eyes vacantly observe his altar, which is built out from the opposing wall. He pets the dog’s head when it comes to rest on his thigh. “Ah, Toad,” he sighs, “you felt it coming too, did you?” The dog huffs in response.

Ghosts have never been the problem. Actual trouble comes from what they evolve into over time: poltergeists, ghouls, banshees, phantoms, wraiths, and many other dark, tormented beings, all lingering and longing for whatever they never had in life.

In turn, human societies have always relied on the spiritually gifted, known very broadly as magicians, to take care of such beings. Shamans, psychics, witches, sages, practitioners of all sorts have always been able to manage, until recently. With humans becoming more isolated from each other, losing community in the modern world, more and more people are dying alone, unseen, with unfinished business causing the problem of persistent, tortured spiritual phenomenon.

Attempts are being made to change this. Non-magical humans have made solid efforts to reach out to each other, form communities, and look out for anyone who might be struggling so as to prevent violence and suicides—two main contributors to the formation of ghosts.

The air shifts and swirls around Arthur’s altar and he buries his free hand in Toad’s fur.

The other measure has been implemented by various magical and psychic associations banding together to create a very specialized role: the mourners.

Since even the best efforts cannot prevent all souls from dying in pain and alone, a varied group of magicians takes part in a systematized ritual to make sure that high risk souls are appropriately mourned and thus mitigate the chance of them becoming ghosts.

Most people assigned to the job are elder shamans, crones, sages, and the like. The average age of a mourner is around sixty years old.

At thirty-three, Arthur Kirkland is one of the youngest, world wide, but the only age requirement is that mourner must have completed their first Saturn Return and Arthur had signed up voluntarily as soon as he became eligible. Those in charge of the organization had doubts at first, but Arthur is descended from a strong magical and psychic bloodline and they were hardly in a position to turn away volunteers.

When his tea is finished, Arthur stands up and lights a charcoal with some frankincense. Any minute now.

Arthur considers himself well-suited for the job of mourning, given his large internal well of energy, his familiarity with the Lower World and the Fae realms, and his generally grim and eerie disposition.

Initially, the mourners received assignments every day, but due to the non-magical world pulling at least some of its weight, the number of mourners increasing, and the decision to only focus on the more dire cases, Arthur typically receives one per week. Sometimes more, sometimes less.

Once a week is a good pace. It gives Arthur time to find the person’s body (if possible), where it was laid to rest or where it ought to be, sever any ties that might be holding the person’s soul back, soothe any pain and surround the soul in feelings of love and warmth. After that, he performs any relevant funeral rites and then the assignment is completed.

Assignments are nearly always received within twenty-four hours of the person’s death.

The air settles and a small thump sounds from a willow wood bowl Arthur carved himself. In the bowl is the usual gleaming black polyhedral made of jet. This one is an icosahedron with each side carved with a sigil relaying information about the deceased person. Arthur steels himself before picking up the relic. It’s usually fine, but occasionally the information can be terrifying and overwhelming.

The jet is soft and light in Arthur’s palm. Jet is an opaque black stone with a slight gold sheen to it and it has the strange property of looking like it will be much heavier than it is since it is created from decomposed wood subjected to heavy carbon compression: a perfect stone to deal with death. Arthur caresses his thumb over the sigil he prefers to examine first: an image of what the person might look like alive, but at peace.

Arthur gasps slightly at what appears in his mind’s eye: the face of a young man with brilliant blue eyes and strawberry blond hair appears. His smile could light up the dead of night brighter than a full moon. He looks to be in his early twenties. His skin is warm and tan and the rest of him comes into focus, he’s a little on the thin side, but otherwise well-proportioned.

“Beautiful,” Arthur mutters reflexively. He immediately wonders how anything terrible enough to designate this boy as high risk could have happened to him. Something about his general aura is so warm and inviting. Yet Arthur has seen enough by now to know that beauty is hardly a guarantee of happiness or safety in a world that often resents innate joy.

The next facet reveals some basic details: despite having died in England, the boy is from America, his birthday is July fourth and he is twenty-five… or would have been, in just over three months or so. Without having to consult the stone, Arthur senses a very troubled childhood: loneliness, neglect, a desperation for anyone’s attention.

Tragic though it is, it’s nothing so striking as to put this boy on a mourner’s list.

As Arthur’s left thumb traverses the other facets, he sees more of the same. The loneliness grows and the desperation in proportion to it. The cycle seems to repeat itself over and over: loneliness, finding acceptance somewhere he ought not to have looked, things are good until suddenly they aren’t and the boy is removed from the situation… often violently, cruelly. Arthur experiences it each time: the sights, sounds, smells, the feelings. It does break his heart.

Sensing the feeling too, Toad moves to sit by Arthur’s leg, pressing himself against it and Arthur’s right hand finds its way behind his ear for scritches.

“Good boy, Toad,” Arthur says. At last, Arthur comes to the boy’s final moments. After all he’s seen, he doesn’t flinch as his third eye replays the full experience of a horrific beating in the pelting rain: distant shouts of ‘fucking freak’ and ‘faggot’ hit Arthur like bullets. Well. That explains some of it, he supposes. He feels every blunt boot as if it were battering his own ribs and the abject misery, the boy’s own conviction that this is deserved.

Then there is the boy, from his own perspective, vision going dark as he watches the raindrops fall on the pavement around him.

Arthur collapses next to Toad and buries his face in Toad’s soft, schorl fur. He doesn’t cry and he has certainly seen worse, but it never stops affecting him. He considers that to be a good thing and worries for the day he watches such a scene and is unaffected.

Toad whines sympathetically, highly attuned to Arthur, and flops into his lap so Arthur can curl around him.

The next facet shows the boy from the outside, eyes open and lifeless, body distorted and covered in blood and bruises.

Arthur sets the stone aside for a moment and simply cuddles Toad until he can breathe again. When he can, he picks up the stone and digs his thumbnail into the grooves in the facet containing the boy’s name:

Alfred F. Jones.

“Alfred,” Arthur murmurs. “Oh luv. You deserved none of that, to be sure.” He gently strokes the stone. “And yet… what on earth has happened to put you in my hand, hm?” Arthur brushes the facet that contains the time of death only to find it is obscured. That in itself is nothing to give pause, it has happened before. They who make the assignments are not omniscient, Arthur can tell from the scene of Alfred’s death that it is recent and, most likely as usual, to have been within the past twenty-four hours.

Rubbing that facet a little more reveals that an impromptu memorial has sprung up for Alfred—only hours after his body was taken away. While an outcast and unwelcome from most places, the local queer community has already begun vigil for him.

Arthur can't help but scoff just a little. “And yet where were you lot when they were beating him to death, hm?” he mutters. He can’t help but think that, as always, non-magical humans are relying far too much on magicians to do the heavy lifting and the community-building needs a bit more attention.

Still. The presence of such a memorial means that Alfred is already being mourned.

So why does his soul require a mourner?

[wooahaes]

sweet night [pt.6]

pairing: non-idol!mingyu x fem!reader

word count: 3.6k~

warnings: joshua confronts reader. reader and mingyu have a lil bit of skinship and also a fake date together.

daisy’s notes: every time i bring up seungkwan in a part i feel the need to go “nonono just trust me” lmao

summary:  As the adopted daughter of the Kim family and current heir to the company, you have it all. An arranged marriage with your soon-to-be fiance who you truly fell in love with, respect from your workers for being good at your job, a good relationship with both your family and your good friends... What more could you want out of life? And yet all it takes is one night for everything to fall down, and one man to help pick up the pieces. 

< previous part || masterlist || next part >

One of the last people you expected to have a casual lunch with was Joshua Hong.

Your relationship with him was reserved typically for business. He was one of Seungkwan’s friends who you always considered yourself to be on good terms with, and you admittedly considered him a little more than just a business partner at times. He had tried to check on you during the disastrous engagement party (he didn’t pursue you, sure, but he at least asked if you were alright), and he’d been there for you and Seungkwan in the past. You didn’t work closely with him, though, and you admittedly hadn’t spoken to him since that party. He picked the restaurant--one of the nicer ones in the city with a lovely view, and he had greeted you politely.

It wasn’t until the waiter brought your entrees and left you to yourselves that the air changed between you two. “If you’re trying to get back at Seungkwan, I recommend you quit it.”

You nearly dropped your fork, looking away from your food to see how cold he’d suddenly turned. The two of you were alone now, sat close to the windows. Joshua had asked for these seats, claiming he preferred the view. You realized it was intentional: you were isolated in a sense, the only other people around being a couple a few tables away and the staff.

“Mingyu’s my friend, too,” he continued. “Neither of them deserve this treatment. I don’t know what you’re planning, but if you really are using Mingyu--”

You just stared at him a moment longer, at a loss for words. Using Mingyu...? “Joshua--”

“I mean it,” he said. “I like you. You’ve always been nice. But this isn’t right, and we both know it.”

Were you just using Mingyu...? It was his idea to begin with, but was going along with it taking advantage of him? Was flaunting a fake love in front of other people to try and make this relationship look like more than just business a mistake? You forced an uneasy smile, and you were positive Joshua could see through it. “Are you taking Seungkwan’s side in this?” You fought to keep your tone even. “Should we pretend he hasn’t been seeing somebody else behind my back? That he didn’t propose to them publicly in front of everyone when everyone expected us to get engaged?”

“You don’t know the full story,” he said, words sharper than intended--he had backed off immediately, realizing how imposing he’d been becoming. He took a deep breath, slowly exhaling before he met your gaze again. “What Seungkwan did was wrong. All of us know it and we’ve talked to him about it and we’ve told him he should have talked to you. But you and I both know that it isn’t fair to use Mingyu to get back at him--”

“Mister Hong,” you cut him off there. “I don’t think you understand the position I’m in compared to you and your friends. The expectations people have are different for me because of my family. They expect me to get married, just as Yoon’s family expected him to. Would you be confronting me like this if it were Yoon Jeonghan I was supposed to be seeing?”

“That’s different,” he said. “You don’t know Jeonghan. It would be purely business if you were engaged to him--”

“And it’s business now, Hong.” You rested your hands in your lap, fingers curled tight around your other hand. “Why do you think it was my idea to get engaged to Mingyu? He saw that my parents were pushing me toward an engagement and decided our business would thrive together. Unlike other people, he actually wants me to be happy, too. If you had to marry a stranger or your best friend because your family and business expects you to do what’s best for the company, wouldn’t you choose the person you would be happier with?”

Joshua pressed his lips into a thin line. “I don’t agree with it,” he said. “But I understand.”

“Is this really why you invited me here?” You frowned at him. “Just to confront me?”

He said nothing at first. But you watched him debate, brows slightly furrowed until he finally looked up at you. “I almost thought you’d been cheating on Seungkwan, too.”

Red-hot anger surged through you instantly. Despite it, you managed to keep calm as you responded with a sharp “You what?”

“You wouldn’t. And neither would Mingyu.” Joshua looked at you. “I know you’re still mad at Seungkwan, but.. I don’t think you need to do anything like that with Mingyu to make him hurt worse. You’re better than that. He’s already hurting right now.”

Without thinking, you flagged down a waiter and asked for your meal to be boxed. He took your plate, immediately promising to take care of it before he started to head off. Joshua stopped him before he could get too far, already citing your favorite dessert off the menu to be added. Once the waiter was gone, he turned back to you.

“I’ll take care of it,” Joshua said. “Thank you for meeting with me at all.”

You had a few minutes. So you hesitated, wondering whether you should ask or not before finally calling Joshua’s name. “Everyone keeps telling me I should talk to Seungkwan.”

“You should. I know it probably seems like we’re all trying to get you to forgive him,” he said, voice softer than before. “We aren’t. No one expects you to forgive him at all. But there’s some things he should tell you himself.”

You traced the carved handles of your chair, fingers gliding over the smooth dark wood. Anything to avoid looking at Joshua, at anyone until you had to leave. “Mingyu said that Seungkwan loved me, despite what he did. I don’t know if I can believe him.”

Something seemed to click. “It’s the last thing you want to hear, I’m sure,” Joshua said, “but... Seungkwan told me that he’ll always love you. It just can’t be you.”

“It has to be them.” You finally looked back up. “Right? He loves them more. Seungkwan knew that neither of us would be happy if we got married.”

“You’ve thought about this.”

You did. It haunted your late night thoughts every single night. Seungkwan had loved you, but it’d be cruel to marry you when he wasn’t completely yours. When he couldn’t promise that his heart belonged to only you, the way you had always hoped it was. You couldn’t blame him for loving someone else: all you wanted was to know. To not be made a fool of. Mingyu had said he’d only actively done anything (and you knew, in your heart, that “anything” was never too far, even though it was still cheating) for four months. That he had loved them for years. You knew that from the first day you had met his childhood friend, from the doting way he always cared for them. There were rare nights where Seungkwan would leave you with a kiss and a promise he’d be back--that they needed him. But that was never exclusive to them. He’d left for other friends, too. That was the kind of person Seungkwan was.

Maybe that was why you never faced it. Seungkwan was so loving toward everyone that you didn’t want to acknowledge how much farther it seemed to go for that one person.

“He let me go in the worst way,” you said. “And I’ll never forgive him for that.”

Joshua nodded. “I didn’t expect you to.”

“If Seungkwan wants to explain things, tell him that I’ll call him when I’m ready.” You were sure Seungkwan already knew that, but...

You needed to prepare to hear the full story.

Mingyu was laid across his couch on his stomach as he watched you, head resting in his hand as you moved to and fro. If you were going to live with Mingyu from now on, you wanted to add a little bit of yourself into his home. One day you were sure the two of you would pack it up and move somewhere bigger, somewhere nicer, but that was yet to come. He liked the way you were adding books onto his shelves, little trinkets that he’d watched you box up and leave aside until today.

“Why not?”

And Mingyu had just asked you on a date. Not a real date, according to him, but he wanted to spoil you a bit before your eventual proposal-and-wedding. You had turned him down immediately, and purposefully kept your back to him as you continued to decorate. If you looked at him, he’d give you the puppy dog eyes, and you’d have to admit that you didn’t want him to feel like he had to.

“It’s not a 'real' marriage,” you said. “We don’t have to stage dates right now. We can do that later. Which reminds me... If you want to have some kind of mistress, you can,” you looked back over your shoulder. “Just because we’re in this deal doesn’t mean you can’t sneak around or whatever--”

“I don’t want to, but thanks,” he said. “I’m a loyal fake husband.” He laughed softly, before sitting up. “But really... Why can’t we go out?”

You frowned at him, folding your arms over your chest. “Because it isn’t real.”

“And?”

“You’re asking me on a date.” Why couldn’t he see that? He didn’t need to pretend with you. You were more than fine with having dinner with him every night and having your platonic intimacy that way. Dates felt... different, fake or not. “Our marriage isn’t real or loving or anything.”

Mingyu stood up, and made his way across the room to you. “I think,” he began, stopping in front of you, taking your hands. “You love me. I love you. Even if it isn’t romantic,” he pulled you into his arms, “it means it’s a loving marriage. Just... different.”

For a moment, you swore you saw a blip of pain behind his eyes. But it rippled away, disappearing and being replaced with that same love he always had for you as your best friend. “You know what I mean.”

“I also want to be a good fake boyfriend to you,” he said. “So... If we’re going to do this,” he swayed with you, “let me romance you the right way. Even if it’s fake, let’s have fun together. Okay? You,” he took your face into his hands, “should make a list of all the dates you didn’t get to go on before. We’ll do them together.”

Seungkwan didn’t turn down many date ideas. But sometimes there were things he wasn’t interested in or it’d be too much effort to go through--a sentiment you had at times, too. Sometimes dates just... couldn’t happen. Life got in the way. You and Seungkwan had always made the best of it. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t leave you yearning sometimes, though. He had promised that once the two of you were married, you’d go through the list if you made it. You never had, but now, with Mingyu...?

Maybe you should.

“Then you have to make a list, too.” You rested your hands against his chest, his hands resting around your waist now as he swayed with you. You make us look like a couple, you thought. Although whether it was your fault or Mingyu’s, you couldn’t be sure. “It isn’t fair if we only go places I want to go.”

“Then I will. But tonight...”

Oh. Mingyu had plans. “Mingyu--”

“There’s a boat cruise I want us to take,” he said. “We can sample food and enjoy the scenery. No pressure for anything. We’re just... us,” he said. “Okay?”

That sounded nicer than you thought it would. Just you and Mingyu being nothing but yourselves next to one another. The cozy way the two of you were now. 

“We don’t have to go,” he said. “I can cancel the reservations--”

“I’ll go,” you said, stepping back. “I’ll go change, then.”

You almost missed the fond way Mingyu watched you leave. He turned, going into his bedroom to change into one of his nicer suits. If you had said no, he would have dropped it right then and there. Maybe it was selfish to take you on a date when he had (well-hid, in his opinion) feelings for you. But...

You deserved the world in his opinion. Mingyu couldn’t give it to you, but he’d bring you what little joy he’d be able to in the meantime. If that meant he’d take you wherever you wanted to go, then that’d just be one more part of it.

The moment you walked out of your room to meet him, Mingyu felt his heart ache. You’d been more preoccupied with fixing your earrings than paying attention to him, standing there waiting to see you again, but your presence always lit up the world for him. Even with your brows furrowed and lips pursed as you continued to fiddle with it--those hoops always gave you trouble, after all, but you loved them too much to not wear them every chance you could--all Mingyu could do was admire how much your favorite color complimented you. Sometimes, if he was in a romantic enough mood, he thought the color had been made for you. Like it was meant to be.

You stopped messing with it, looking up to see him as you lit up with a smile. “Do I look nice?”

Of course you did. Even when you were brokenhearted and sobbing, Mingyu thought you were one of the most beautiful people in the world. He took your hand, pressing a kiss against it--cheesy, but it made you laugh. “Enchanting.”

“Ooh, Mingyu’s using his big words. You don’t have to make me fall in love with you, you know,” you teased. “But thank you,” you continued past him toward the front door, “you clean up nice, too.”

Mingyu could only smile at you, remembering why he fell in love with you to begin with. Not everyone was allowed to see this side of you: playful but loving. Seungkwan did. Mingyu was certain that Chan did, too, and so did your brother. Mingyu liked the side of you that wasn’t holding up this image of someone who felt the need to be perfect (in his eyes, you already were: all of your imperfections were something he wholeheartedly embraced as your best friend first and someone who was in love with you second).

While you sampled the food aboard the ship about an hour later, Mingyu merely stood back and wondered how he’d propose to you. As much as he could see the appeal of proposing where everyone could see, it felt... wrong. Like he was going to parade around your engagement as some huge spectacle. He’d figure out what you’d like, even if he had to ask you the right questions to do it.

“So...” You had started after you returned to him with a full plate (tiny as they may be) for the two of you to share together outside. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

He looked back at you, having been caught up in watching the scenery. “I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.”

“I know,” you said. “It still feels unfair to you.”

“I never really knew what I’d be doing, to be honest.” He looked back out, watching the slow crawl of the city as the boat continued along. “My parents wanted me to marry someone that’d benefit the company. I think they were glad it’s you.”

“But what about love?” You asked. Mingyu was just as much a romantic at heart as you were. He’d always told you he wanted to marry for love, too.

He grew quiet for a while. “If I had to marry someone tomorrow, I’d still pick you. I’d rather marry one of my best friends than marry a stranger and hope that I learn to love them.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Mingyu turned back to meet your gaze. “I’d marry you right now if you asked,” he said. “I mean it when I say I’d rather have a happy marriage with you than struggle with a stranger.”

(And he didn’t say that he always thought he’d see someone else marry you. That if it was Seungkwan, he would have been okay with it because the two of you were so in love: Mingyu knew you would have been happy, had things gone the way everyone thought they would.)

He could see a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, that pretty flustered expression crossing your face: the fighting of a smile, for once, but the way you’d hold his gaze before immediately looking away. “I think I’d pick you, too,” you said quietly. “At least we’ll be happy.” Then you sighed wistfully, staring off into the distance--past the city at some unknown life that Mingyu wished he could see, too. “Do you ever wonder how things would be if things were different? If our lives were more normal? Or... if Kibum hadn’t left the company.” You sighed. “Would we even know each other?”

“I think we would,” Mingyu reached across the table, taking your hand in his own. “I think... We’re soulmates.” He paused for a moment, the pressure of silence weighing heavily between the two of you.

Soulmates...?

“Like with Wonwoo,” Mingyu said a moment later. “I think we’d find a way to be friends somehow. Wonwoo and I would have been friends no matter what. I think we’d be the same way.”

“Are you sure?” You said. Mingyu’s hand was warm. You honestly didn’t mind it staying over your own. “The city’s big.”

He nodded. “But I think we were always meant to be here,” he curled his fingers around your hand, “in each other’s lives.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the thought, a familiar flutter in your chest. You ignored it, staring ahead at the path that ran alongside the river. “Sometimes,” you started, turning to gaze at Mingyu’s profile. No wonder so many people called him handsome. Against the city, with the twinkling lights of the ship, you thought that maybe you’d fall in love with him, too. “I think about if we would have met at night.” You nodded toward the path. “Maybe you’d be out for a jog, and I’d be coming home from work. And... I think you’d bump into me, because you’re clumsy.” You giggled, and Mingyu met your eyes a moment later before smiling. “But you’d help me up and we’d start talking.”

“Really?” He said. “And?”

“And then you’d fall for me because you’re a sap, and we’d be the leads in some drama that you’d cry over.” You teased, but you liked the way he laughed softly.

Mingyu looked at you the way Seungkwan used to. “I think anyone could fall for you.”

The sentiment made you smile, chest warm. You only hoped that Mingyu was right. If he was okay with you seeing someone else in the future, when your heart was ready to love again... You’d let him find love, if that was what he wanted, after all. You were sure he was. “Loyal fake husband” or not... Mingyu deserved to be happy. Your marriage would only give him so much.

“What would you be doing now if it weren’t for the company?” He asked, still gazing at you. “Have you thought about it?”

What would you do...? Between getting through school and immediately starting work, you hadn’t really explored many options. You liked business because you were good at it, but what about you? What about what you wanted?

“I think...” You pressed your lips together for a moment, humming as you thought the question over more. “I’d go back to school and study more,” you said. “Or maybe I’d travel. There’s a lot of places I want to see.”

“Like?”

You weren’t sure. “Maybe I’ll make a list of those, too.” You looked at Mingyu, a playful smile on your lips, “For our honeymoon.”

“You should,”  Mingyu said, completely serious. “We’ll pick a place together, but we can make a list.”

Something about the night made this feel different in a way you weren’t sure you wanted. Kim Mingyu was one of your best friends, a savior when you needed him to be, and, at the core, just a man in a similar enough position to you. His parents wanted him to marry well, too, didn’t they? Mingyu had told you about dates. About arrangements his parents had made for him--talks of doing the same for his sister, too, when she got older--that he was never a fan of. Things were different, yes, because of who you were... but it was hard to deny that Mingyu stood in a situation similar to yours. That other people did, too. That... Seungkwan did, too.

You pushed that thought aside. Seungkwan had defied plans--and perhaps this was your way of doing it properly. To follow a path that you chose by picking Mingyu, who picked you, too. Yet when he looked at you with that fond look he always held for you, questioning whether you were cold--and already shrugging off his jacket before you could think the question over--you felt your thoughts dragging themselves back up.

Guilt, in its harshest form. Despite everything, you had always hoped Mingyu would be someone who found love in the end. Mingyu loved you like a friend, of that much you were sure, but what about a loving marriage? You couldn’t give that to him. He draped his jacket over your shoulders, fingers grazing your skin in the process. He stood behind you for a moment, staring out at the lights of the city, hands resting on your shoulders.

Mingyu would pick you if he had to marry someone tomorrow. You reached up, hands resting over his own. If you had to make the decision... You’d pick him, too.

general taglist: @wonuziex​ @twancingyunhao​

sweet night taglist: @twogyuu @itsveronicaxxx @caratluvie  @xxluckydreamsxx @onlyasgoodasitgets