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capricorn-stark · 3 years

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Othello

pairing: jason todd x reader, reader is a psych major because i think the concept of psych majors in Gotham is funny lmao

warning: i wrote this at 1 am, kinda short, swearing

a/n: i got strong feelings towards Othello, The Catcher in the Rye, and Jason Todd, but this one’s for @tadpole-san smirk smirk smirk

part 2

You liked studying at Gotham University’s library for the ambience.

Whether or not you got any actual “studying” done depended wholly on your mood and whatever being that may or may not have been watching you from above, but even if you somehow managed to procrastinate the entire time you were there, at least you could walk back to your dorm with the comforting fact that you had gotten in your cardio for the day.

The place itself was gorgeous with its overarching ceilings, long hall lined with pillars supporting a seemingly endless array of books, the cozy golden glow of the lights, and the generally pleasant atmosphere provided by the myriads of students sitting around its tables and lounging on its couches. The entire campus was stunning - but it would only be surprising if it wasn’t thanks to the very generous grants from patrons of the Gotham elite, most notably people like Bruce Wayne.

You had a particular spot you liked near the edge of the library, in a little corner mostly surrounded by shelves with enough space for a few usually-unoccupied couches. Aside from you, the only regulars to sit there mainly just consisted of one other guy who recently had started to drop in every few days or so to listen to music and do his own work. You didn’t mind him - he never bothered you, and you both kept up your mutual solidarity towards maintaining a very comfortable silence.

That was, until one particular day.

“Is that Othello?” You glanced over the book in your hand and saw the guy’s startlingly green eyes gazing right at you over his dark-rimmed reading glasses. He wasn’t wearing his earbuds as per usual, so you figured your agonized sigh of boredom must’ve come out a little too loudly.

“Yeah,” you finally answered, slowly lowering the book a little. “Unfortunately.” He cracked a slight grin at that.

“What, you’re not a fan of Shakespeare?”

“I don’t hate him,” you started with a fairly nonchalant shrug, “I just think this book in particular is just kinda-”

“Boring as fuck?” he finished very eloquently, causing you to grin back despite yourself.

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

“I can agree with that,” he said with a nod towards the book. “Definitely not one of my favorites, that’s for sure. Good premise, dynamics were pretty interesting, but I couldn’t really get into it either.” The fact that he was discussing Shakespeare’s works in a way that suggested he had fully read the book (without wholly relying on CliffNotes) and that he did perhaps genuinely enjoy some of them suggested to you that he was probably an English major. “And Iago was a bitch-”

“I know!” you nearly exclaimed, throwing your hands up in very evident frustration. “Iago was shady as hell, and I don’t get how Othello never saw it coming from him. Like, no one can be that oblivious, come on. I wouldn’t have listened to him.” RIP to Othello, but you were different.

He was actually laughing at that point, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You and me both. You an English major?” You shook your head, holding up your Psychology Twelfth Edition textbook that had been resting on the table beside you.

“Psych.” He raised a brow and you inwardly sighed.

“Jeez - at GU? I’m impressed.”

Being a psych student at your particular Gotham-based university was both a blessing and somewhat of a curse. The classes were phenomenal and your professors consisted of some of the best and most experienced in the nation - but that also came with the downside that the city you lived in had some of the biggest psychopaths and the largest insane asylum in the nation as well.

Well, you win some, you lose some.

“It’s not that bad,” you tried to say, but the smirk playing at his lips proved that you weren’t convincing anyone. “Let me guess, you’re an English major.”

“What gave it away?” he deadpanned, chuckling regardless as he closed up his own book and extended a hand out. “Name’s Jason Todd. I’ve seen you around a lot, but we never really talked, huh?” You smiled as you reached out to shake his hand, introducing yourself as well.

“I guess not. You usually look like you’re pretty busy.”

“Something like that,” Jason grinned, leaning back against his chair and sliding off his glasses. Without them, the lights somehow gave them an almost glowing effect. “I figured you wouldn’t want me to bother you.”

Bantering over Shakespeare with a cute boy wasn’t exactly your definition of being bothered, so you shook your head.

“Believe me, that was a lot better than Othello was.”

You saw Jason at your spot again the next day, then the day after and the next, lounging across from your couch and always seeming rather out-of-place with his black leather jackets and ripped jeans, but a welcome sight to you nonetheless. And just like that, suddenly, your visits to the library weren’t just for the sake of cardio and the ambience anymore.

He was surprisingly amusing to talk to, whether it was complaining about more books for your respective English courses or just ranting to each other about the struggles of being a student at GU. It was easy to bond over things like getting your midterms interrupted by random threats from the likes of the Riddler, or arguing over whether or not the city’s latest vigilante, some guy named Red Hood, was actually cooler than Batman himself.

He had been particularly passionate about that last debate.

Aside from being easy-going and annoyingly attractive, you also figured out that he was ridiculously smart, especially when it came to helping you with your English course. Whether it was explaining the deeper societal message behind a particular reading or helping you research topics for your thesis, Jason had a knack towards figuring out exactly the things you yourself seemed to struggle with.

“How do you figure all of this out?” You asked one day out of sheer disbelief after he connected The Catcher in the Rye to themes of disillusionment about innocence and one’s childhood, and not just towards the protagonist, Holden, being an ass. “Seriously, I thought I was pretty decent with this stuff, but you blow me out of the water.”

He shrugged it off like it was no big deal, sliding off his reading glasses and setting it on top of the wooden table you were at. You had grown fond of the way they looked on him.

“It’s nothing special,” he dismissed in response, lifting his gaze from the book to fixate it back on you. “You do great by yourself, I just kinda give you a little push with my interpretations.”

He did that a lot - downplaying the fact that he was actually smart as hell like it really was no big deal. The way your grades had started rising after he started helping you out proved otherwise, though.

“Still, thanks for helping me out,” you insisted, eliciting another slight smile from him. “It means a lot.”

“Oh yeah?” His tone had gotten cheekier as he leaned closer to you. “How much is a lot?”

“That’s up for you to decide,” you smirked, moving back and closing up your laptop. “Not me.”

“You know, if you really wanted to thank me, you should get a coffee with me sometime.”

“We get coffee together like every week,” you deadpanned and he sighed.

“Not like that. Like a date.”

It hit you like a truck.

“A date,” you repeated, like you hadn’t heard him the first time.

“Only if you were into that,” he added, trying to play it cool as he moved to pack his things into his bag. “I’m not working tonight, so I thought you might wanna give it a shot.” That was even more surprising, because he always happened to have a mysterious night shift going on. He never told you what exactly that was, aside from off-handedly mentioning something about motorcycles and Crime Alley every once in a while.

You were still letting it process.

“...if you don’t want to-”

“No, no - that sounds great,” you interjected, already starting to smile. At the sight of it, he managed another grin himself, an evident hint of relief flashing across his face.

“Right. Yeah. Cool.” He cleared his throat and shot you another grin as he tossed his bag over his shoulder. “Let’s head out. And I’m telling you right now, I’m not letting your broke ass pay for it.”

“Jason!” you protested as he laughed and nudged your shoulder with his, making you join in despite yourself.

At least Othello had managed to lead you to one good thing.

#pandemonium scrawl #I kinda want to see a fic where he works at like a bookstore or something #will i write it?#lmao who knows #jason is an english major #I like that headcanon surprisingly #jason todd is in college #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #dc comics #dc #reader imagine #dc imagine #red hood #red hood x reader #fluff #college au #kinda cute i guess

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skzsauce01 · 3 years

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A Good Man

Anniversary Request Special

Description: Seungmin loves you so much so that he wished he was the one left behind in the plane crash, not your late husband.

Warning: guilt, plane crash, death

Word Count: 2k

Pairing: fem!reader x Seungmin

Chan was a good man— loyal, loving, reliable. Seungmin is a good man too, but Seungmin is not Chan, and he knows it. He knows it well.

He approaches you, bouquet in hand. You turn and smile when you hear him.

“Hi, Seungmin.”

“Hello, Y/N. Where’s Miyeon?”

“I left her with her grandma. She isn’t quite old enough to sit still for stuff like this yet.”

“I see.” He set the flowers by the picture of his late leader. “I should leave the two of you alone then.”

“No, wait, Seungmin,” you stop him. “Would you like to have dinner with us this evening?”

You’re inviting him to dinner? His eyes slide to Chan’s framed smiling face. No, he mustn’t get his hopes up. There probably isn’t something more to this invitation. You probably just don’t want to be alone on your late husband’s fifth death anniversary. “Sure. Where? I’ll see if any of the boys are free too.”

“No, I meant just the three of us at my place,” you clarify. “I… I have something to say.”

Seungmin can’t stop his heart from accelerating even though he knows it’ll hurt more later. “O-okay.”

You nod and turn back to the memorial. Seungmin watches as you whisper something into the single white carnation in your hand and set it on the altar before he himself turns to give you room.

He finds it ironic that he was actually the reason why you and Chan were together. You were his classmate whom he reunited with when Stray Kids did a reality show at a site you worked. He was even the best man at your wedding. He remembers that day clearly— that day when he saw you walking down the aisle dressed in white. He’d never felt so sick as he did then when realization and regret hit him all at once. He loves you. Since when, and for how long, he didn’t and doesn’t know, but it was and is too late.

He finds it even more ironic, however, that he is the reason you two are now torn apart.

He raises his finger and presses the bell. Within seconds, the door is thrown open wide and a bubbly five year old greets him. “Hello, Uncle Seungmin!”

He automatically bends down and scoops the child up. “Hi there, Miyeon. Have you been a good girl today?”

“Uh-huh! You can ask Mommy!”

As if on cue, you pop out from the kitchen. “Yes, she’s been a well-behaved angel. Welcome in, Seungmin.”

You take the melon he’d brought while he takes off his shoes. Seungmin’s a bit surprised to see three lit candles on the dining table when he walks in, but says nothing of it. He does, however, raise an eyebrow when you off-handedly mention you baked his favourite chocolate cake. He knows the recipe calls for red wine, and for a single mother such as you, anything that does not involve your child usually does not fit into your schedule, let alone cross your mind.

After dinner, you take your daughter to her playroom upstairs with a large plate of cookies that are obviously meant to keep her distracted for a while.

Seungmin watches as you scurry back downstairs afterwards. You’re wearing a skirt. He doesn’t remember you wearing a skirt since you gave birth. He thinks you’re gorgeous in anything, but the effort you put into looking nice makes him blush a shade darker.

“Shall we?” you dramatize, pulling out the dessert.

Seungmin helps lay out two plates while you serve a slice onto each.

“You mentioned you have something to say?” he asks as you both tuck your chairs in.

Are you blushing, or is it just the heat from these candles?

“I, uh… Let’s eat first.” You smile sheepishly. “I haven’t had this in so long.”

Despite having his favourite dessert, Seungmin cannot concentrate on its taste at all. He watches as you cut through the moist cake with your fork. He can tell you’re nervous by the way your joints are turning white by your grip on the utensil. He’s used to being the anxious one, so this is new. What could have gotten you so on edge?

At last, you’ve scraped every last drop of cream you can procrastinate with into your mouth. Seungmin takes the plates and sets them into the sink before sitting back down in front of you, waiting patiently.

“What I want to say is,” you begin carefully.

He nods once and leans forward, letting you know you have his attention.

“We’ve known each other for a while now, haven’t we?”

“Yes, why?” Goodness, this sounds like a line from every other friends-to-lover romcom skit. Not that he would mind. As long as you tell him you feel the same way he does, he wouldn’t care if you quoted “Twilight” verbatim. Oh, to be in a lighthearted romcom with you, Seungmin dreams of nothing more. Then again, he reminds himself, these are just dreams.

“Ever since… ever since Chan passed, we grew closer, and I depended on you a lot. You’ve been my cornerstone, and I wanted to say ‘thank you.’”

He nods again, but doesn’t say anything. He knows you enough by now to recognize you have more on your mind.

Indeed, you continue. “And over these past five years, my heart has—”

“Mommy!” A sudden cry sends you both to your feet.

“I’ll tell you later,” you toss over your shoulder to Seungmin who’s running right on your heels towards the cry.

“Miyeon!” you gasp, seeing the state of your daughter. Somehow, she has managed to squeeze through the gaps between the railing of the stairs and is hanging from the second floor. Below her, her stuffed monkey lays sprawled out on ground level.

“I’ll pull her up,” you decide, but Seungmin stops you.

“It’ll be hard to fit her back through those rails, and she’s crying too much to cooperate.” He stands under your daughter and extends his arms upwards. “Miyeon? Miyeon, let go. Uncle Seungmin will catch you. You’re going to be alright.”

The little girl stops wailing for a moment and looks down only to cry again from the intimidating height.

“Sweetie, it’s okay. You can do it. We won’t let you fall,” you add in. “You trust us, don’t you? You trust Mommy and Uncle Seungmin?”

She quiets down again and sniffles as she looks at you and Seungmin now instead of the floor. Her tiny arms are shaking, and you brace yourself, knowing she’s going to fall soon whether she wants to or not.

Miyeon whimpers once more and closes her eyes. She then finally releases her grip and lands squarely into Seungmin’s awaiting arms.

“Oof. There we go. Safe and sound,” he assures her.

Once she’s set on the floor, Miyeon again begins to bawl from shock. “Mr— Mr. Bananas wanted to climb. Mr. Bananas wanted to climb!” she sobs, gripping the stuffed animal you’ve returned back to her arms.

“Okay, okay, we understand. Still, no more climbing for you or Mr. Bananas, alright?” hushes Seungmin.

You pick up your daughter and bounce her on your shoulder. “I think she’s learned her lesson. I didn’t think we still needed baby rails, but I guess you can never be safe enough.”

Seungmin reaches for Miyeon. “Let’s put her to bed. She must be exhausted after all that.”

You nod and let him carry the five year old up the stairs once more. You have him wait downstairs though as you change the child, so he heads back down and makes himself comfortable on the couch. On the lamp table beside him, there’s a photo of you and Chan excitedly holding up an ultrasound. It is the only picture of the three of you together.

He runs this thumb over the other man’s face, wiping it free of any dust. “I’m sorry…” he whispers. “I know it’s not worth much, but I’ll keep Y/N and Miyeon safe and happy. I promise.”

He quickly sets down the picture and stands when he hears you closing the bedroom door.

“Is she alright?” Seungmin asks when he sees your head appear from around the corner.

You nod, descending the steps quietly. “She’s sleeping now. She’ll forget all about it by tomorrow morning.”

“I wish I could say the same when I get hurt. I can’t even sit in certain positions anymore,” he jokes.

You laugh lightly. “I’m glad you were here, Seungmin. Things could have been a lot different if it were just me.”

“I’m always happy to help. I should get going now though. You must be tired too.”

“Wait.” Your voice stops him at the front door. “The accident… I’m thankful you were here, and I realized it had to be you. You had to be the one to do it.”

His stupid hope is rising again. He can feel it in his chest. “Y/N, what are you saying?”

“Miyeon, she wouldn’t have trusted anyone except you. She needs you, and I… I need you too.”

Is he hearing incorrectly? His silence and bewilderment prompts you to explain. “The thing is, ever since Chan passed five years ago, you were the only one who’s been by my side, supporting and caring for me, and slowly, I’ve fallen for that. Seungmin, I know I come with a lot of baggage, but would you be willing to give us a try?”

He wants to jump, he wants to cheer, he wants to accept your confession, but none of this makes sense to logical Seungmin, so he restrains himself.

“Y/N, do you realize what you’re saying?”

You nod. “I-I know it’s sudden, but I like you, Kim Seungmin.”

“But you love Chan.”

You hesitate but nod in agreement anyway. “I’m not going to put you second. I—”

“Y/N, I killed Chan. Don’t you see? You should hate me instead. If it weren’t for me, you’d still have your husband, and Miyeon would still have a dad. If I hadn’t stood under that propeller after the plane crash, Chan wouldn’t have had to push me and get crushed in the head. I killed Chan, and no matter what I do— no matter how much I love you too— I can never stand in his place.”

You take a moment to stare at him, trying to read his body language after that confession of insecurity. After a while, you straighten your back and look him right in the eyes.

“You’re right.” He’s startled by your sudden firm tone. “You can never be Chan. You’re not a music-producing insomniac. You’re not Australian. You’re not born with curly hair.”

He swallows and hangs his head.

“But,” you continue. “I’m not looking for another Chan. I’m not looking to replace him; I’m looking for you.”

“Y/N…”

You soften your voice. “When I found out how he passed saving you, I knew I was going to be okay. I knew Chan wouldn’t leave me and his unborn child to fend for ourselves. He saved you because he knew he could count on you, and it’s why I trusted you from the beginning and why I let myself fall in love again.”

You walk up to him and take his hands. “Let me ask this again. Will you, Kim Seungmin, stand by my side, not as Chan, but as someone who loves and is loved?”

His heart pounds in his head, yet he cannot take his eyes off of yours. His throat is tied into knots, yet he cannot stop the words from tumbling out.

“Nothing would make me happier,” he breathes.

You smile and wrap him in a hug, which he finally returns. Just then, footsteps thump down the stairs and a five year old child waddles into view.

“Mommy?” she calls. She then takes a moment to look around before her eyes land on Seungmin. “Daddy?”

#kim seungmin #seungmin #stray kids #seungmin fic #seungmin imagine #stray kids fic #stray kids imagine #seungmin angst #seungmin fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #fem reader #anniversary special #20210820

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robinofgothamcity · 3 years

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♡ starting prompt: “for how long? for how long were you bottling this up?”

♡ pairing: kirby dach (chicago blackhawks) x fem reader

♡ lyric inspiration: “I used to hear a simple song. that was until you came along. now in its place I hear something new. I hear it when I look at you.”

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes

you sat at your computer, typing away at work you had to get done for an internship. it was work you were putting off for a while now and you had to finally bite down and get it done.

“hey, what are you doing right now?” your friend Aniya asked as you picked up the third frantic phone call from her, “work I need to get done for school. what do you need from me that you’re calling me for the third time?” you asked a bit annoyed.

she rolled her eyes from the other side of the phone, “listen, I know you’ve been having issues with him so I want you to come out with us tonight,” she exclaimed, “I don’t care if you’re overwhelmed with work or not. you need to get over this slump and realize there’s more to you than Kirby fuckin’ Dach right now.”

you slid down your chair, growling in response, “I don’t wanna and if I don’t want too, you can’t make me,” you tried to fight back which only earned a laugh in return, “yeah right! see you tonight at nine! we’re going to be at Falco’s so see you there!” she blurted out before hanging up the phone.

you looked down at the clock, seeing that it read five in the afternoon. you had been in the coffee shop for a little over three hours and while the first hour and a half was spent with you just procrastinating, the remaining time was you actually working and getting most of it done.

however!

looking at the time, you realized you might as well get up and leave before it got any later. you knew you had time to go out with your friends but you recent fall out with Kirby made it almost nearly impossible to do as such.

the fallout was one you saw coming for a while now.

between your schooling and interning and Kirby’s career, the time you had with each other was rare. you tried to make time for him, you really did, but Kirby ultimately put down the times you asked to hang out with him. he usually said it was because he was hanging with a few teammates and while that was true, you had also saw a few of his girl friends with him.

you weren’t a jealous girl, not by a long shot but it was hard to see your boyfriend with a bunch of girls hanging out and not inviting you. you tried to remain calm about the situation but eventually, it got too into your head and you confronted him about it.

“you know what Kirby?” you whispered to him, not looking at him anymore, “I’m tired. I don’t know you anymore and you could care less about me. how about I do us both a favor and just end this now?”

Kirby’s eyes widened at what he was hearing.

“I never said I cared less about you!”

“it feels like it, Dach! all I ask for you is hang out with me when you have the time and be around when you can but the last three times I asked to hang out and get dinner, you’ve denied me saying you were going to be with ‘the boys’ and then what do I see? you with Boqvist and a bunch of other girls! hanging out and having a good time. do you know how much that hurts? seeing your boyfriend surrounded by a bunch of girls and not even giving you the time of day anymore?

Kirby looked at the ground, knowing what you were saying was true, “how long? how long were you bottling this up?” he finally asked.

“too long, I guess but like I said before, let me do us a favor and break it off here. I love you, I really do but I’m tired of not being prioritized. I’m tired of coming second, third, and fourth place in your life. I’m tired of having to beg for the attention of my damn boyfriend at this point,” you tried to contain your tears but couldn’t, “I knew our lives were very different from the very moment we meant but I never thought we’d end for a reason like this. maybe Aniyah had a point....maybe our lives are too different from each other and that this wouldn’t work out.

you grabbed your bag, slinging it over you and your wallet that was on his table. you could see the panic in his eyes as he tried to say make up something to say but failing to do so.

“so you’re ending it then?” Kirby asked from the door of his apartment. you gave him a teary eyed look, “I don’t want too but you’re making it hard to be with you so yeah, I guess I am.”

you grabbed your CTA card from your wallet and opening the door of his apartment building to catch the nearest CTA train home. Kirby hated when you rode the train so late but you weren’t about to give him the benefit of driving you back home.

throughout the entire train ride home, you had gotten a dozen texts from Kirby, asking you if you were safe and to at least text him when you got home but after what felt like the 100th text, you blocked his number, his Snap, and any socials he had left.

it even got to the point where Adam had to message you to ask if you were okay. you knew that he would go back and text Kirby so you didn’t bother to reply to his text either.

once you got home, you slumped your backpack onto the couch and ate leftovers you had from yesterday. you were in no mood to cook and you knew since Aniyah was expecting you to meet her at Falco’s, your time had to go to getting ready.

the food felt bland in your mouth as you tried to hype yourself up for the outting. it would have been a lot better if Kirby was going with you but putting that thought aside, you threw the rest of the food away and went to your bathroom to start getting ready.

you figured since Falco’s wasn’t really a hugely popular bar in Chicago, the idea that anyone cute would be there went out the window. the only ones who knew of Falco was you, Aniyah, and Kirby who you had brought with you a few times.

the makeup you applied was very light and the outfit was on the simpler side. since you weren’t trying to get anyone’s attention, flying under the radar in terms of looks, you knew doing the bare minimum would do the trick.

by the time you finished getting ready, it was already 8:30 and Falco’s was on the other side of town. you caught the last train to the other end of town and walked the rest of way there. when you finally arrived, you saw the place a bit more packed than usual.

“( your name )! over here!” you heard Aniyah’s scream from a table. you gave them a wave and a small smile before sliding into the booth, “these are my friends! Michael and Trey!” she introduced you.

you shook their hands and introduced yourself to them as all of you ordered a few round of drinks. since Kirby was only 20, whenever you invited him out to bars or the like, he tended to be the one to carry you back home when you got a bit too drunk.

“so, where do you go to school?” Michael asked, as he took a sip of his drink, “oh, I go to a smaller school here in Chicago,” you replied. he nodded understandingly, “oh shit,” you heard Aniyah’s voice say from underneath her breath.

you gave her a look as she pointed at who walked in. you followed her finger and were immediately taken back when you saw it was not only Kirby but Adam, Alex, Dylan, and his girlfriend as well.

“we’ll be back in one second,” Aniyah told Michael and Trey before dragging you away to the single stall bathrooms, “girl, I had no idea they would be here. you know I would never do this to you,” she said frantically, “I swear, they just had to show up, didn’t they?”

“Aniyah, it’s okay. I just wish I would have dressed a bit better considering he’s here,” you murmured under your breath. Aniyah smirked, seeing your outfit, “well, just take off the jacket, the shirt your wearing is already doing you justice by being a crop and the shorts look amazing on you as it is,” she said snatching the jacket off of you.

the two of you spent a bit more time in the bathroom, restyling your outfit a bit more before walking out. you made a beeline to the bar, ordering all four of you shots of tequila.

“he’s looking at you, you know?” Aniyah murmured as you shrugged, “serves him right,” you replied before giving Michael a smile and look at the three of them, “bottoms up!” you exclaimed before taking the shot and chugging it down with ease.

all of you cheered at Michael called for another round of shots to the table but before they could get there, Dylan’s girlfriend came up to the table and gave you a hug.

“hi, how have you been?” she asked as she let you go, “fine! just getting a few drinks with some friends! how are you?” you asked as hesitantly as possible. you knew she meant no harm but whenever the four hung out with each other, it was rare when she tagged and only did if you were coming along.

“ah, fine. just here with Dylan and a few of the boys. I know with you and Kirby, it must be a bit awkward, huh?” she said a bit awkwardly. you gave her a small smile, “I guess but I gotta go before they start thinking I left them. I’m a few tables over so if you want to take a shot with us, come by!” you said giving her a quick peck on the cheek before leaving.

Aniyah gave you a look, quickly telling you to spill but you shot it down as all of your shots were brought to the table.

throughout the night, you got progressively more drunk. the tequila shots were hitting a bit harder than you thought and before you knew it, any shy bone in your body quickly went away when the sixth shot entered your body. Aniyah knew that your drunk persona was not who you were sober.

“does she really get this way when she’s drunk?” Michael asked, seeing you singing into the half full bottle of Smirnoff Ice. Aniyah laughed, “she does! trust me, one time she got onto a table at a friendsgiving dinner and sang every word to Girls in The Hood without messing up.”

the three of them laughed as you grabbed another shot and chugged it down, “oh my god I love this song!” you told Aniyah as you grabbed her by the hand and shook her, “I’m gonna go see if Tayler is available!” you exclaimed as you jumped over Michael to get to where Dylan’s girlfriend was.

Aniyah immediately got up and chased you to the table but was too late. you were already grabbing her by the hand and dragging her up, “oh my god, you’re plastered,” she giggled, seeing the drunk in your eyes, “I haven’t seen her this drunk since your birthday!” Dylan added on.

Aniyah got to the table and grabbed you by the hand, “Michael bought everyone a shot, we should go and take it together,” Aniyah murmured in your ear. you shrugged, “tell him to wait a second, I’m talking to her!” you responded as Tayler laughed, enjoying your new found confidence.

“god, I haven’t seen you this plastered since you know when,” Aniyah growled, giving Kirby a side eye. all he did was watch the table you were sitting at and seeing the boy named Michael giving you look of what he saw as lust, “aww, hi Dylan! hi Adam and Alex!” you said excitedly.

they gave you waves as they tried to not look in Kirby’s direction. you hadn’t spared him a look as you saw Michael heading over your way, “hey, you guys coming? Trey wants to know if you’re heading back to his place to continue drinking.”

you had never heard silence this loud. although everyone in the bar was still talking and drinking, the air immediately turned stiff. Michael had his arm around your shoulder, “uh, yeah? one second!” Aniyah said seeing as you weren’t even in the right headspace to be going anywhere.

“she can’t. she’s heading home,” Kirby finally spoke up. Aniyah, Michael, and everyone else looked to see Kirby’s dead serious face, “I think I might’ve missed something. who are you?” Michael asked looking to Kirby.

Aniyah and Tayler saw the rage building up in Kirby’s eyes, “her boyfriend, can I ask who you are?” he replied, not taking his eyes off of him. Michael laughed, “her supposed date. I thought she was single,” he said with a smirk that ticked Kirby off more than it should have.

“sorry, you aren’t. she’s too drunk to be going anywhere that isn’t her house so how about you get moving before this turns into something you don’t want coming.”

Michael laughed, putting his hands on the table, “or you’re gonna do what?” Kirby rolled the sleeves of his button up up making Adam and Dylan start to get nervous, “playing professional hockey has its perks,” he replied.

“no, what you’re not going to do is create a scene in this bar. Kirby, you’re a professional. if you want, you can take her home if you’d like but you’re not getting into trouble for something marginally stupid as an argument.”

Aniyah gave Kirby a look before motioning to Trey to come and get Michael before he did anything stupid. you on the other hand were too busy sitting next to Adam and singing whatever song was playing through the speakers to realize what was going on.

“come on, lets get you home,” Kirby murmured into your ear. you gave Kirby a confused, “no! you’re not my boyfriend anymore so I go where Aniyah goes!” you said through slurred words.

“I don’t want to seem like a dick but you got to go home and you’re going home right now. you’re too drunk to understand anything or anyone.”

you didn’t bother to fight as you felt an overwhelming feeling of tiredness hit you. you usually got like that when you got drunk.

after Aniyah gave Kirby your bag with your house keys, he hitched a ride from Dylan to get back to your place. they could all sense the anger in Kirby as he was still sitting on the argument. it was pretty wild to see Kirby so angry but when it came to you, they knew he would do anything for you.

he thanked Dylan for the ride as he grabbed your arm and slung it over his should, carrying you inside. the trip to your apartment was struggle as you kept talking gibberish to yourself and making Kirby laugh.

as soon as he got your door open, he took off your shoes and place you in bed, making sure you were at least comfortable enough to fall asleep. by the time he had placed you in bed, you were snoring your life away against the pillow.

Kirby knew it was best to sleep on the couch to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself if you were still drunk when you got up. he grabbed the small throw pillow and a blanket you kept underneath the couch and tried to get comfortable as possible.

it hit five in the morning when Kirby heard throwing up sounds from the bathroom. he slowly got up from bed and saw you hunched over the toilet bowl.

“you okay?” he finally spoke up, making you jump in fear. you gave him an angry look, “what the hell are you doing here?” you asked, confused as to why he was here.

“I had to take you home from Falco’s. you were extremely drunk and were about to do something you were probably going to regret the minute Aniyah left you so she gave me the keys to your house and let me watch over you until you got up.”

you sighed, “where is Aniyah?” you asked. “home. she had to calm down the guys she brought because he was trying to cause a scene inside the bar and told me just to take you home before any news of me getting into a fight broke out into the news,” he explained.

you leaned up against the wall, giving him a defeating look, “what do you want with me, Kirby? I appreciate you taking care of me but what do you want as a return?” you replied.

Kirby kneeled onto one knee and looked at you, “to give me a second chance. I know I fucked up. I fucked up so bad but these last few weeks have been hell. I miss you calling me after every game and having dinner through a facetime call. I miss your voice first thing in the morning. I just want you to give me one more chance and if I fuck up, you’ll never have to hear from me again. I swear!” he said, almost pleadingly.

you stared at Kirby, trying to see if he was being truthful. you could tell behind the eyes of desperation, he was telling the truth.

“one more chance and if you ruin it, we’re done.” Kirby went in to kiss you as you immediately dodged it, “first of all, I need to brush my teeth and you won’t be kissing me at least for another few days. you could suffer some more,” you joked, giving him a wink.

he growled playfully and watched as you brushed your teeth, “but you can snuggle me while I sleep off this hangover,” you said as he happily followed you back into bed.

#nhl #nhl imagine #chicago blackhawks #blackhawks #kirby dach #kirby dach imagine #kirby dach x reader #hockey #hockey imagine #imagine #kirby dach x you #nhl fic

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levihantrash · 3 years

Text

Priorities

For Levihan week Aug 2021 Day 2 prompt: confessions

Also based on a cute ass tumblr prompt by @sanothebreadpup <3 hope you like it!!

Summary: It’s been a while since Hange wanted to confess, but their to-do list was too goddamn long. Erwin suggested going to Levi for advice on managing prioritises. Instead, they asked Levi if he wanted to bake… for a titan.

note: no smut but lots of spicy poetic touching

cross-posted on ao3 🤪

-----

Hange wanted to confess. It had been months since they knew that their best friend status with Levi could potentially be tweaked to include just a bit more romance, and they knew they had to be the one to take that step. As much as Levi was quick-witted on the battlefield, he wasn’t quite the risk-taker in ordinary settings. In fact, Hange figured Levi would sip tea beside them until he was greying and would probably be as content with the arrangement.

Hange wanted to confess, but their to-do list was too goddamn long.

Out-of-the-blue, though characteristically charismatic, Erwin gave the soldiers a pep-talk on how they need to know what to prioritise (i.e., humanity's victory).

Inspired, though the speech’s intended audience was clearly for new recruits, Hange tried to prioritise their tasks. Within a day, they got overwhelmed, the list being more of a reason for delay than for action. Moblit, well-meaning as always, tried to get Hange to focus on one at a time but that was unthinkable to them. One at a time meant that the confession would never happen. There was too much to research. Too much at stake. Too much for one inconsequential confession.

Unknowingly, Erwin saw Hange wringing their hands, muttering to themselves in the dining hall.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just can’t prioritise the important stuff,” Hange grumbled. Perking up at the mention of priorities, Erwin advised Hange to seek Levi’s guidance.

“Levi only does one thing at a time once he sets his heart on it.”

Eager for a chance encounter with someone they technically already hung out with on most days, Hange asked Levi for help. More accurately, in perhaps the most roundabout manner, they asked Levi if he wanted to bake… for a titan.

“For research,” Hange said, almost convinced by their own performance.

“You can do that yourself,” Levi said reasonably.

While starting a task was horrendously difficult, Hange was not one to give up once they began on one.

“You’re the only one here who can bake.”

Eyes narrowed, arms folded, Levi was not buying the compliment. He had a pile of papers left to read. Hange’s whims could be settled by someone with more well-matched interests and time management.

“Go ask Petra.”

Hovering nearby with another paper for her captain to sign, Petra noticed Hauge's crestfallen face.

“It’s not about the baking being done but who Hange is doing the baking with,” Petra whispered, as discreetly as she could.

"I'm busy," Levi said, loud enough for Hange to hear, heedless of Petra’s input.

“Alright.” Hange sighed, internally fuming that they should’ve found a more legitimate excuse. Bluff out something like Erwin’s orders. Levi followed Erwin’s orders without question. Hange’s requests were dealt with more scepticism. Not that Hange had the best track record of requests.

In the end, Hange prepared the baking supplies, because even if titans couldn’t stomach cake, it was an experimental endeavour. Practically speaking, they could give some baked goods to the juniors. Maybe even gift some to Levi.

Stumbling into the kitchen with too many ingredients in hand, they found Levi leaning against the entrance looking positively sullen. Upon spotting Hange, his face morphed into a more acceptable, neutral expression, nodding towards them.

"I thought you were busy!"

Levi shrugged, grabbing some of the ingredients from their arms. "I was. Didn't you want to bake?"

“I guess?”

The sudden change of mind was too abrupt for Hange to wrap their head around. A hopeful glow had unfortunately begun growing in them. Levi was being exceptionally nice today. No doubt that he was usually nice. Just not will-bake-for-your-titans kind of nice.

"Erwin said that you are really good at prioritising tasks,” Hange said, slowly digging through the cabinets for the utensils.

"Huh. Let me guess—he wants you to learn from me."

Hange scratched their head absent-mindedly. "He did tell me to ask you."

"I'm not actually very good at sticking to a task,” Levi admitted, wondering where in hell Erwin got the idea that he was focused. If he were, the paperwork would have been submitted, instead of lying around, flapping aimlessly in the wind before Petra (and Oluo) offered their generous help. He refused—every time. Levi was simply good at keeping a blank face and reporting to Erwin that he needed more time, which Erwin must have mistaken as a sign of seriousness than a sign of procrastination.

“You are! You finished work before coming have, didn't you?”

Levi didn’t breathe out a word, silently pouring through the book of recipes.

"What do you want to bake?"

Hange didn’t mind his lack of response, pondering over his poor cover-up question. "Something easy. What about bread?"

"Bread isn’t easy."

Difficulties translated into the promise of adventure for Hange. Pumped up, Hange prodded at the picture of an unremarkable loaf of chocolate banana bread.

"Let's do it anyway!"

“Suit yourself.”

-----

The small touches were the ones that were hardest to ignore. Hange felt the accidental-deliberate brush of Levi’s elbow when he reached over to choose an ingredient. Other times, he guided their hand with the right amount of strength for stirring the batter. His fingers over their stirring hand were firm and reassuring.

“You’re stirring too fast,” Levi said patiently.

“You’re distracting me,” Hange replied half-heartedly.

“Oh, am I?” The fingers left Hange’s hand. Just as Hange was about to lament their moment of folly in allowing that to happen, the fingers reached out towards their face. Forcing in a breath, Hange felt Levi’s thumb rub out a chocolate stain at the side of their lip.

“How did the chocolate get there?” Levi murmured, more to himself than to them.

“I was snacking on some of the chocolate bits a while ago…” Hange said cheekily, licking the side of their lips only to realise that Levi’s thumb was still there. Their tongue brushed his finger, and in that contact, Hange was ready to collapse from self-generated sexual tension.

Though his eyes widened noticeably, Levi quickly resumed his blasé expression. Rubbing the rest of the stain out, he walked to the tap to wash his hands. There was some hesitation, before he hurriedly turned on the tap, letting the water run for two seconds over his hands before going back to his position next to Hange.

Unsure as to whether to be offended or pleased by the sight of Levi cleaning the evidence of their encounter with such carelessness, Hange busied themselves with breaking eggs and separating yolk. If it had been Levi with a finger lined with fudge, Hange would’ve licked it spotless. With permission, of course.

To pay him back in kind, Hange plotted their own routine of touch as well. The touches became bolder, starting innocently enough. From casually brushing away hair that was poking Levi’s eye, to going behind Levi who was busy slicing up bananas and placing both hands on the counter. Their arms were now on either side of him, conveniently taller than him so that their head could peer right over his shoulder. The cutting didn’t cease—it only got more rapid, the bananas becoming neat circles in a matter of seconds. Hange let out an impressed whistle, hands not leaving the counter.

“Stop distracting me.”

“Oh, am I?”

One drop of the knife, and a swift turn later, Levi found himself staring straight into Hange’s bright, beautiful, heavily eye-bagged orbs.

"Hange, do you know why I'm in the kitchen at 2am baking for some shit-brained monsters?"

“Titans don’t have—”

“Because I have priorities.” Levi interrupted, not allowing Hange to clarify what the physical anatomy of titan subjects entailed.

Hange blinked, maintaining an oblivious exterior. “Your priorities include titan research?”

“You know what I was going to say.”

“Somewhat. I want to hear you say it out loud, though.”

Grimacing, he concentrated his gaze on Hange’s collar instead. Skin flushed, collarbones peeking out mischievously. Bad idea.

“You little shit.”

Their laugh was quieter, milder than the ones they let out on other days. “My favourite little shit! So what are your priorities?”

“Wiping the blades. Cleaning the toilet. Dusting under the tables. Doing laundry. Having enough tea. Baking with a scientist who thinks—”

Hange pressed a gentle hand on his mouth. “I get it.”

“Which part do you get?” Levi asked, enjoying the fact that when he moved his lips, they grazed Hange’s palm. How would it be like to replace that hand with their mouth?

“That you like me.” Hange grinned, tugging Levi by the straps of his apron just a bit closer.

An unexpected flash of clumsiness made Levi knock down the bag of flour, spilling it onto the floor. The fall clouded up the vicinity in white dust. Gaining confidence with obscured vision, Hange held the back of Levi’s head, tracing his undercut, admiring how his immaculately combed hair had come undone. An attractively dishevelled mess. Hange was in no hurry. Yet.

Levi, in a spur of restlessness, looked up at Hange questioningly. Eyeing their faint smirk, he tilted his head sideways, watching carefully for any sign of reluctance. An impatient “are you going to kiss me or not” from Hange; a straightforward command was what he needed to hear. No time was wasted pulling Hange into an urgent, searing kiss. Backed against the counter, hands cupping Hange’s face, Levi devoured the sensation. The taste of sugar, fruit, flour, and chocolate clung onto the entwinement, as Hange breathily pressed up against him. Erwin had warned them both. Love in the military meant the threat of loss. The possibility of sorrow. As he felt the rumble of Hange’s satisfying groan beneath his lips sending an unprecedented warmth through his body, he was certain. He would have loved Hange whether he kissed them or not. Death would happen, whether or not Hange rubbed his waist in soothing, awe-inspiring strokes. Right now, he would die in absolute bliss.

To be honest, Hange would’ve been disappointed if they didn’t end up fucking, or at least, aggressively kissing eventually. Erwin’s advice was only a stronger reminder that Hange was never one to be conservative. They loved Levi, as a comrade, as a friend, as the person whom they would kill for, if it meant saving his life. Still, having Levi sneak a hand into the bareness of their back, sucking their neck with a hot tenderness that made their head spin, they knew that chastity and platonic hugging could not be the only option.

“We should’ve done this sooner,” Hange said, peeling away his jacket.

“Couldn’t tell when the right time was,” Levi said, starting on the buttons of Hange’s shirt.

The door creaked open.

“This is your idea of asking Levi for help?” Erwin said, a thick eyebrow raised as he surveyed the mess.

With some willpower, he stopped unbuttoning Hange’s shirt. Lightly pushing Hange away, Levi straightened up, less than pleased with the interruption.

“Erwin, you better have something worthwhile to say if you—”

“I’ll clean this up.” Erwin, fully recovered from his shock, was beaming.

“Huh?”

“It’s about time,” Erwin said, with the proud sincerity of an unwitting matchmaker, gesturing towards the door.

“We owe you one, Erwin!” Hange waved at him on the way out, while Levi cast him a grateful, wary glance. With his hand was secure on their back, and Hange’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, there was no care for an audience. Only the smell of baked goods and unfinished business fuelled their steps towards a private space. A place where they would end up in each other’s arms—spent, sweaty, and deliriously at peace.

#levihanweek2021 #lhw2021 #levihan #levi x hange #day 2 #levi ackerman #hange zoe #aot fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #fanfiction #aot #my writing #hanji zoe #prompt

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musicals-n-cartoons · 2 years

Text

Elsewhere and Elsewhen Reaction

You know what could be fun? If I give my reaction to the newest Owl House episode. I meant to do the last one actually, but I procrastinated. Oh well. On to the show!

Pre-episode thoughts

It's definitely a time travel episode. Or at least a "going to a representation of the past" episode, which is really the same thing. It's not like anyone cared about the Assassin's Creed metaplot.

Episode thoughts

Nice to see Luz hitting the books, I love how studious she is.

Ooh, a party! Is it Lilith's birthday? Oh, it's to celebrate her new job at the museum. Neat! And is that Steve hanging out there? I guess Hooty wants someone from her old workplace, but damn.

So Lilith got a former mentor now, ooh!

No theme song? We're getting a long one this week.

Luz wishes that she can go back in time to ask Philip how to build a portal, and then realizes the obvious.

So, no time magic, but there is an urban legend that "time pools" can do the trick. Eda and Lilith use to look for them when they were kids. Adorable!

So Luz is straight-up calling Lilith her aunt now. Damned, Luz is basically having "divorced parents fighting for custody" energy without her two moms ever needing to be married.

So a device that needs a lot more power than Lilith had, where would Luz get something like that... of course, the Titan's blood! But Luz, you only got so much. Are you sure you want to spend it?

Ha, Luz's getting tired after pulling an all-nighter, while Lilith remains super excited. I feel ya Luz.

Aww, Babysbrough! That's so cute! And Luz impersonates a... "crab maiden"?

Oldest barnacles on her head? How many barnacles did Lilith put on her head before?

Man, the Deadwardian Era is shockingly civilized. Did something happen between now and Belos' reign? Cause it is not looking so savage now.

Eda, meanwhile, is trying to avoid meeting her father. She tries to sneak off disguised as Lilith (not that anyone was buying it), only to get caught by her father. Who's sweet enough to just let her go if she wants to.

There are inside the Skull! Turns out it is sacred ground?

Ooo, Lilith is picking bad vibes from Philip. Philip is Belos confirm?

Yup, he turned out to be evil, what a surprise.

Luz tames a dino!

A confrontation with Philip, but he refuses to give any information up. And it turns out the Collector got nothing to do with the portal? Luz got a cute way of peacing out.

At least Lilith gets to study Deadwellin balusters from a practitioner.

Eda is talking with her father finally! And damn, Eda destroyed Dell's ability to do his job. His hands are trembling! I can see where you are coming from Eda, but he already wants to meet you, and avoiding him for 20 years is kind of hurting him even more, so...

Ah, he's working to restore the population of an endangered specie, Dell's a man after my own heart.

Gasp, Philip is Belos! The theorists were right! So, the liquid body was caused by glyphs on his skin, huh? I wonder what purpose they served, and how palismens were able to stop him from dying. And what does he need the collector for? The collector got a lot of moon symbolism, so they're probably connected to the whole moon thing coming in a month.

Neat trick, having Belos voice overlapping with Philip's one.

Reaction to other reactions

lol at everybody saying that Philip/Belos is basically just an English colonizer. I mean, he really is. That's basically canon.

15,000 recent notes, with the 2nd trending tag. A comically large amount of notes.

OMG FLORA D'ESPLORA WAS DORA THE EXPLORER HOW DID I MISS THAT. That's amazing.

I like the theory that the reason that Philip took much longer than Luz to learn the glyphs is that the Boiling Isles judged him unworthy and was literally hiding it from him.

The dino Luz befriends is a stonesleeper, the same creature whose lung was needed for the grimwalker recipe.

Why are some people saying that Lilith is what made Philip hate witches? People don't become bigots just because someone punched them.

I worried about the moon symbolism that Amity is wearing. What connection does the Collector have with her?

Prediction for future episodes

The next one is... another sports episode? And the description doesn't mention Luz or Eda. Judging from the promo, I am going to guess that Hunter's mission is going to crash into Willow's story and that Luz is going to have a b-plot with Eda.

#the owl house #toh #the owl house spoilers #toh spoilers #owl house spoilers #toh reactions

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renjunfromthestars · 4 years

Text

more than

Pairing: Mark + reader, Bestfriend! Mark, Childhood friend!Mark

Genre: Fluff, angst, honestly a little bit of crack LOL

Song recs: Best friend + Untitled + Waiting Room (Rex Orange County), Sofia (Clario)

Warnings: Mild swearing and mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 7.0k (my longest fic yet, wow!)

Summary: You’ve known Mark for all your life, and it only takes one drunken night (plus a little intervention with Haehcan) to think that you wouldn’t mind getting to know him a little better...

Notes: The fact that I actually had the patience to sit down and to write something above 3k words,,,,absolutely astounding, amazing, unique, never been seen before…. Mark is a little awk and always works so hard (poor bby), so imagining him as a super stressed pre-med major and oblivious best friend absolutely wrecks me thank you goodbye

----

When you first meet Mark, you’re eight years old, and it’s at church. He’s dressed in his Sunday best: a light blue button up, khakis, and shiny dress shoes. He looks stiff as your mother introduces you two, with his shirt buttoned all the way to the collar.

It’s not that you dislike him, but you think he might dislike you, with the way he avoids eye contact, eyes tracing the floor, your shoes—anywhere but your face.

You see panic flash through his eyes when his mom gently pushes him towards you, telling him to take you inside and reserve a spot in the pews while she catches up with your mom.

He shuffles awkwardly, and wordlessly, you follow him into the building.

The pews are almost empty, with the bulk of them being filled in the front by the old people that usually have nothing better to do on their Sunday mornings. Although your local church is on the smaller side, it feels unusually large with rows of empty pews, almost eerie. You shudder at shadows the walls make with the stained glass, and hurry to your usual spot towards the middle.

If Mark notices your apprehension, he doesn’t say anything. He’s oblivious, actually, not noticing your absence until he’s almost at the end of the rows. When you see him stop and search for you frantically, you stifle a laugh.

He eventually finds you, and after shuffling awkwardly between the pews, makes his way to you.

“This is kinda far, isn’t it?” he murmurs.

“Huh?”

“I mean,” he stammers. “I usually sit closer to the front. ”

You peer at him from the side. “You actually want to pay attention?”

He scratches the back of his head. “Well yeah, isn’t that the point?”

“I guess,” you say, looking at the ceiling. With the sprawling arches and patterns, the designs are pretty, you think.

“You should at least try, it’s kinda interesting,” when you turn your head to look at him he turns away. “Only if you want to, of course.” he adds, fidgeting with his hands.

When you tell him that maybe you will, you see him crack a small smile.

It becomes a routine, almost every Sunday, with you and Mark sitting next to each other. Whether it’s closer to the front or the back, it’s a whole debate. You usually give in, because when you walk in, Mark is already waiting for you in the front.

….

“Do you still go to Church?”

You’re laying on a green bean bag in Mark’s dorm room, procrastinating on the midterm paper you were supposed to get started on, well, a week ago.

You think for a second, hand raised to rub your chin, just to tease him. “What’s church?”

“C'mon dude, are you serious?”

“Barely,” you say, standing up to move to sit on his bed. “You should really get a new bean bag, it’s kinda deflated.”

Mark ignoring you, reaches over from his desk to fluff up the bean bag. “It’s because you sit on it so much.”

“Are you calling me fat?” and before he can defend himself you finally answer him, “I stopped going in like, middle school. It would be hard even if I wanted to, to find a whole new congregation, and I’m just busy. Also, it’s so boring, I could cry.”

Mark perks up. “Not if you go with me.”

You groan dramatically, and Mark chuckles.

“Good to know that you haven’t changed since you were eight.”

It’s just your view on church, that hasn’t changed since you were eight. First thing things first, you were 19 now, going on twenty. You’re in University now, your second year. It’s been a blur assignments, partying, coffee and term papers- you don’t have time to think about anything else right now. Except maybe actually starting your paper but-

Mark interrupts you midthought, breaking the silence. “Are you still with that guy?”

“Huh? Who? Yuta?”

“Yeah,” Mark responds sheepishly, avoiding eye contact.

You roll your eyes. “No, we haven’t been together for a while. It wasn’t that important so I forgot to tell you.”

You can tell he's surprised about how unusually calm you are for talking about your first serious breakup, but he doesn’t say anything, instead just scratching the back of his head awkwardly in typical Mark fashion. “He was an asshole anyway,” Mark murmurs.

“What did you say?” you ask, acting shocked. “Mark Lee? Talking shit?”

Mark, embarrassed, refuses to repeat it.

“I’m just saying, he wasn’t the right person for you.” he protests.

“As opposed to who? God himself?”

“I can think of a few,” he sighs, but you aren’t paying attention, instead laughing your ass off on his bed.

“You’re insufferable,” he says, standing up to open the door. “C’mon let’s go, I’m hungry. I know you’re not starting that paper anytime soon.”

…

It’s a routine, seeing Mark on Monday afternoons for lunch. Not Friday, because you were busy getting wasted, and consequently not Saturday, because you were too hungover. Not Sunday, because Mark had church, and you, well, were busy praying to God that you would be able to finish all the work you’d neglected over the weekend as a result.

“I still don’t understand why you choose the worst day of the week for this,” you say over your Kale caesar salad, pushing the leaves around aggressively. The University had a lot of healthy options, which you were grateful for. Grateful for you were not, were for the student loans you had to pay off every month, the exorbitant amount you partially owed to all the local and expensive organic produce the meal plan featured for the sake of being sustainable and health conscious.You could really give a rat’s ass about whether your salad was organic or not; if your weekends said anything about you, no amount of kale could help you (or your liver).

“It wasn’t really up to me,” Mark points out. “Maybe if you weren’t too busy being-”

“Ta ta ta,” you tsk, waving a finger around. “I, unlike you, actually have a social life.”

Mark frowns. “I have a social life.”

Mark definitely had a social life. He was popular, even. As popular as you can be, being a preoccupied Pre-med with perfect grades. Mark is likeable. It’s not like he doesn’t have the opportunity to go on weekends if wanted to, he just chooses not to, deciding to slave away at biological functions, orbitals, and lab results instead. Even now, as he takes his glasses off to clean them, you notice the imprint they leave on his face from how long they’ve been sitting on his face, and doesn’t take you long to find the dark circles that grace the skin under his eyes: he’s exhausted.

You frown too. “You should really get out more Mark. You seem stressed.”

Mark gives you a small smile after putting his glasses back on, and then resumes typing on his laptop. “I don’t know how going out would make me less stressed,” he says, distracted. “I would only be more stressed, knowing the work I have to do.”

“Yeah, but you're pretty organized.” You point your fork at him accusingly, kale falling to the side. “Don’t you usually finish things early too?”

“Yeah, I do.” he admits, and before you can press onwards you’re interrupted by a girl you recognize to be his lab partner.

Goggles in hand, you can see the marks they leave around her eye area, but she’s somehow still annoyingly beautiful, with her glossy straight hair and long eyelashes, but that’s not why you dislike her. She might be the most stuck up girl you’ve ever met.

“Did you do the calculations yet?” she says, turning to Mark. ignoring you. It’s only when you cough in your seat that she turns to you. “And hello, (y/n).” An afterthought.

“Hello Yebin,” You give her a wry smile. “How's the lab?”

“The usual.” she glances at Mark, who seems to be doing some finishing touches on said calculations. “How’s Chem 2?”

Boy, does she really grind your gears.

“It was fine, I actually placed out because I took it in high school.” Not to mention, it was a class for freshmen, and you were in fact, now a sophomore.

Before she can say anything back, Mark claps his hands in celebration. “Done! Sorry it took me so long, I just had to double check some things.”

“It’s no problem,” and with the way her voice drips with a sickly sweetness, you want to gag. It’s so painfully obvious. “Are you still down for tomorrow?”

Poor Mark, always oblivious, stops typing on his laptop and looks up in confusion. “Huh?”

You silently laugh at the expression Yebin makes when she realizes Mark has no idea what she’s talking about. “For our study session? The MCAT is just months away.”she reminds him.

Mark remembers. “Oh yeah, about that, I was thinking we could also invite-”

“Great!” she chirps, “See you tomorrow!” and with a flash of her white lab coat, she's gone.

Mark scratches the back of his head. “I guess she had somewhere to be.”

You roll your eyes for what it seems like the 100th time this week, anymore and they might be permanently stuck to the back of your head. “She definitely likes you.”

“Who? Yebin? No way.”

“Yes, Yebin, and yes way.” You fling a walnut from your salad over to his side, and he cringes.

“What is your problem?” he grumbles, and resumes typing on his laptop.

You drop the subject, because you know any talk on girls is completely lost on him. As you set aside your salad, you peer over at Mark, palm supporting your face. He’s focused, eyebrows slightly furrowed, with his lips mouthing over silently whatever science journal he was reading on his computer screen.

Mark has always been good looking, you think. You don’t know why you’ve never really noticed it before. His nose bridge gently slopes over his face, and his jawline is sharp, having lost his baby cheeks years ago. He works out often too, although he barely talks about it (maybe out of fear you’d tease him for being a gym bro). And with the way he’s so adorably awkward, It’s no surprise really, that every girl friend that you’ve met of his seems to be completely smitten.

Shaking your head, you snap out of it. It’s dangerous to think of Mark that way, you think. You’ve known him too long.

“My problem? I think you’re the one with the problem here. I’m surprised your hair isn't completely gray by now.”

Mark ignores you, probably mad at the fact you tried to start world food war three with him with a walnut.

“Hey.” you flick at his forehead to get his attention, and he flinches.

“There’s a party this weekend at Johnny’s fraternity, you should come.” Johnny, being both your long time mutual friend (who’s demeanor is way too nice to fit the stereotypical frat boy image, really) who has since stopped asking Mark out of respect for his “med school grind”.

“I’m already planning on it,” he responds, and you’re surprised.

“Since when do you actually accept party invitations?”

“Since yesterday, because I’m tired of Haechan bothering me about it.”

You silently cheer, of course, you expect nothing else from Haechan.

…

“I never knew it was so hard to get booze.”

“It’s not hard if you’re 21.”

Scoffing, you turn your head to face the boy across from you. As if he can feel the burn of your gaze on his forehead, Haechan stops typing on his Macbook and lifts his eyes to meet yours.

“No shit Sherlock, but last time I checked, we both weren’t 21.”

The sun had set a half an hour ago, and despite having spent the whole afternoon together, you and Haechan have had yet to come up with a way to secure the drinks you promised your friends for tonight’s pregame. With both of you being certified schemers representing your respective friends, you guess it wasn’t that big of surprise that the responsibility was left on both your shoulders. It beat scavenging alone, and spending time with Haechan wasn’t so bad either, when you two weren’t trying to kill each other.

It was already late, and Haechan had deemed Ubering to the nearest packer store that sold Soju (the sweet sweet liquid of choice) was too much work. You on the other hand, had dismissed that option for a completely different reason. The issue in question was the flimsy, borderline pathetic excuse for a fake ID Haechan planned to use at the packer store.

“Hey it works!” he protested. “You just act like you’re already legal and they don’t even card you. Easy.”

You roll your eyes as Haechan theatrically reenacts his last trip to the packer store.

“I asked him how he was doing, and he told me school sucks. I say to him, ‘Tell me about it, thank god this is my last year!” and as if to emphasize his next point, he flicks his wrist in the air, ID snuggled between his index and middle finger. “And I was on my way. No issue at all.”

“That’s because he didn’t even see your fake I.D stupid. He would’ve called you out on your bullshit in an instant.”

Out of all the different options available, you could not fathom why he chose his fake ID to show that from all the places in this world, he was from freaking Hong Kong. There were fifty states to choose from, other English speaking countries, and he chose to pose as an international student on a student visa. He could most definitely look the part, but after looking at the ID he proudly slaps on the common room lounge desk, you deadpan. The yellowish tint to the card was way too suspicious to be taken seriously.

“I wish we could just ask Mark,” you sigh, and Haechan looks at you like you’re stupid.

“He’s 20, ya dimwit.”

“I know, that’s why I said I wish. You have serious hearing problems.”

Haechan stops typing on his laptop to shoot you an especially heated glare, and you’re reminded again why he’s #2 on your fight list, right above Yebin. First place was taken by the girl you almost actually fought at that one University party a town over, wherever she is you hope she’s having a terrible day.

“If it were not for the rules of this land, you’d be dead right now Haechan.”

Haechan places his head in his palms, and flutters his eyelashes disgustingly.

“But you love me.”

“Yes, as much as Mark loves social events. Speaking of Mark, how on earth did you get him to leave his cave?”

“It didn’t take much,” and before you can call him out for lying, he shushes you.

“Okay, maybe a few days of nonstop begging.” Haechan says as his eyes dart across the laptop screen. You raise your eyebrow. “And I might have threatened to release pictures from the photoshoot his mom made him take when he was younger.”

“I expected nothing less from your evil, evil, mind.”

He scoffs. “Hardly. Just resourceful.”

Resourceful he is, because Haechan is the one who ends up finding a plug for the alcohol that night.

…

A can of four loko, a bottle of soju, and a few shots later, you should be hammered, wasted even. But after 14 months, 2 weeks, and 5 days into college, your tolerance is pretty high, so you’re really just plain drunk. Even so, you’re a little messy (no surprise). You’re not in a state to be trusted with any errands, so you don’t understand why Haechan asks you to pick up Mark along the way to Johnny’s fraternity.

“Why do I have to do it?” you whine, putting your hand over your forehead, and Haechan only laughs at your dramatic display of despair.

“Because Johnny messaged me that Mark isn’t there, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting him flake on me this time. ”

You point a finger at him, and he stifles a snort when you’re off by a couple inches. “Letting him flake on me, me, me as in you! It’s not my problem.”

But there’s no use in arguing with Haechan, and you know it. That’s why you find yourself stomping your way up the second floor of Mark’s dormitory like you’re in elementary school again, having just been scolded by your mom and being forced back into your room.

You knock at his door impatiently, and it feels like forever until you hear some shuffling, and see the door knob twist open. To be honest, it’s probably just a few seconds, but time is different when you’re intoxicated.

Before you even see him, it smells faintly of shampoo and detergent, so you’re not surprised when he opens the door and you see his hair is still half wet from the shower. He’s definitely party ready, and when you mean party ready, he’s wearing the same loose black tee and grey joggers he wears to sleep. His socks don’t match and you try not to laugh, because it would be a bad look for you, to show up intoxicated, and apparently crazy.

“Oh (y/n), what are you doing here? Oh shit is today Friday? I totally forgot, Haechan is going to kill me-'' He looks at you and then pauses, scrunching up his nose. “Have you been drinking?”

“No.” you say sarcastically, but it definitely falls short of Mark because he looks at you like he does not believe you. Good, because he shouldn’t.

He sighs, and ushers you in his room. It’s dark, with the only light emitting from the little steel lamp on his desk, which is covered with his notes, pencils, a textbook, and some highlighters. When you finally make your way to his bed (with difficulty) he sighs again, and you silently scold yourself for having that mini drinking contest with Haechan. If you thought you could handle your alcohol well, Haechan was an absolute monster.

You nearly screech when Mark flashes a mini flashlight in your face, and he tells you to calm down before someone thinks he’s committing murder. He holds your face still with his index finger resting on your cheek and his thumb lifting your chin. You try your best not to squint when he tells you to, instead focusing on his face. He’s so close, you can feel his warm breath on your face. If you weren’t already so flushed from drinking, you suspect you’d look beet red now.

“Well, your pupils still dilate normally, so I don’t think you have alcohol poisoning-”

The world is moving a little, so you plop backwards on his bed— albeit a little harder than expected because he rushes over to you and looks concerned.

“-but I don’t think that’s the problem here.” he finishes.

Your eyes are closed, mainly because his bed is really comfy. “I’m here to pick you up.” and as if to emphasize your point, you wildly start pointing in all directions, hoping it would land on him.

You open your eyes when you feel him grab your finger and turn it thirty degrees to the left, just stopping at his chest. Your sense of direction must be really bad, because it turns out you were pointing at nothing.

“I don’t think we’re going anywhere for awhile”

“Noooooo” you wail, and Mark lets go of your hand to sit back down on his desk, and unsurprisingly, begins reading his textbook again. How he is able to focus with you in the background, you don’t know, but it must have taken years of practice.

At this point, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You shove yourself off the bed and grab his arms from behind him. His roller chair scoots a few inches before he stops it.

“You’re not exactly making great case for yourself here”

“Stop making excuses!”

You aim straight towards the armpits, and you’re confused at the lack of reaction, so you reach over to squeeze his knee. Almost immediately, he crumples over, almost falling off the chair.

“Can you-” he says mid laugh, “please” he gasps, “Stop that!”

You respond by attacking his other knee, and it’s over. He falls off his chair and you go down with him. The difference is that he recovers quickly, and starts tickling you back in revenge.

You’re sensitive, so it feels like you’re dying. You try to use his arm as leverage to push yourself up, but next thing you know he’s toppeling over you. You close your eyes and wait for your head to kiss the cold hard floor but it never comes, because Mark's hand cradles your head, breaking the fall.

When you open your eyes, he’s closer than ever before, noses touching. Lips a mere centimetres away and in a weird embrace, you resist the urge to close the distance.

Mark has always been good looking, especially now, so close to you. You don’t know why you’ve never noticed it before.

When he pulls away he’s flustered, and for the first time, so are you.

It’s an awkward silence, with you still on the floor as he stands up, rubbing the dusk from his knees. He scratches the back of his head and offers you a hand

“Let’s head out,” he says.

“Yeah, let’s.” you echo.

…

Although Haechan berates you for being more than a little late to the party, he’s overjoyed that you somehow managed to show up with Mark. Not that he didn’t have faith in you anyways, he tells you. It’s just that Mark is married to his Biology textbook, and she runs a tight ship. By the time you reached the frat with Mark, you’ve sobered up enough to enjoy yourself normally,

It’s when you wake up in the morning, that you’re not okay. It’s not okay, because you dreamt of Mark, and that’s weird, because you and Mark were just friends, right? And you always will be.

It’s not a big deal because friends dream of friends. Dreams are a product of your own desires environment, you tell yourself, it’s perfectly normal because you spend so much time with him.

What is not normal, is when you see Mark the following Monday, and are worried about it. You’re nervous the whole time, and it gets worse when you slide the little watermelon filled tupperware container across the table in apology for last Friday. He likes his watermelon cut up into little cubes, you remembered (why do you remember?), and you avoid his eyes, pushing a stray piece of hair behind your face.

Mark, oblivious as usual, doesn’t really notice anything until 10 minutes in, as if your lack of rambling surprises him. Munching on the cubes, he asks if you’re okay.

“Yeah, I am.”

No you are not. You are utterly fucked.

…

“But you need to promise me you won’t judge or make fun of me for it”

“Just say it already, Jesus.”

“It’s just so embarrassing.”

“Oh my god, are you in love with me?”

“No!”

When placing your hands in your face, Haechan grants mercy on you, patting you on the back instead of teasing you further.

“I don’t know what else could be so important that you need to talk to me in person. Unless…. it’s about Mark?”

His hands stop soothingly rubbing your back and instead starts slapping it, waiting for you to laugh along with him. When he doesn’t get a response he gasps. Turning his head sideways to face you, he pries your fingers apart.

“No fucking way.”

“Right?” you moan.

“I was just joking, but I can’t say I didn’t expect it.”

You remove your hands from your face and look at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Like, you’ve known each other forever. You spend a lot of time together too. Someone was bound to catch feelings eventually.”

You don’t respond, instead choosing to sulk.

“You know I’m right. You just don’t want to admit it because you’re the loser in this situation.”

Right he is, because you’ve been avoiding Mark for the past few weeks like the plague. You’ve told him that you’ve been busy with your final term paper (you’re not, you’re an engineering major why would you have one?), and although he was a little confused, he was probably also a little thankful because the MCAT was only a month away.

As you tell him about your plight, Haechan listens thoughtfully, “mhming” and “ahh-ing” at all the right places.

“I don’t see how ignoring him helps you at all. I would say to just talk to him about it, but it’s Mark, he probably hasn’t thought about you that way at all.”

“Thanks,” you grumble. “So I’m basically one of the boys.”

“No really, mans might as well be the anemone from Nemo, I’ve never seen him interested in anyone.” Haechan sighs. “This is a tough one.”

“I’m sure I’ll think of something, but I might have to get creative.”

“I’d like to see you try Hyuck.”

…

It’s 9pm Sunday night, and there’s a knock on your door. It’s strange you think, because it’s a Sunday, and it’s a little late to be doing anything.

When you open the door, there he is, Mark Lee in all his 5’9’ glory, with a little bag in hand, in it your favorite milk tea.

“It’s Sunday.” you say, intelligently.

Mark just chuckles. “Yes it is, and your point?”

You step aside so he can walk in, and you’re embarrassed at your current state. For once, you’ve finished your assignments early, so you’ve spent the past four hours in your pajamas watching K-dramas and snacking on honey chips. You must look like a bum.

Mark on the other hand, always looks good, even in some old dress slacks, and an old t-shirt with some holes in it. He smells faintly of antiseptic, so he must have just come from a volunteering shift at the hospital.

“It’s nice of you to drop by,” you poke the straw into the bubble tea. “And thank you for the bubble tea.”

“You’ve been busy recently so I figured you’d need it for the caffeine content, but it’s not like you sleep anyway.” he jokes. “How’s the term paper going?”

“The term paper? Oh right, the term paper. It’s alright,” you lie. “Just a couple of pages left. Beats having to take the MCAT though.”

Mark looks tired, with his hair slightly overgrown and his dark circles hallower than usual. You feel bad—he has a habit of overworking himself; you’re usually there to check on him but lately you haven’t, and he’s kind and thoughtfull enough to bring you something because he thinks you’re stressed.

“Yeah tell me about it,” Mark takes a seat next to you on your bed, head hitting the wall with a soft thump. “It’s going to be all over next week though, I can’t wait. I’ve missed you though.”

Busy silently cursing at yourself for the way your heart flutters at his admission, you forget to respond. Mark frowns, places his hand on your thigh in an attempt to soothe you, and it has the opposite effect—you think you might go into cardiac arrest.

“Is something wrong?”

“N-no.” you stammer. “Just stressed. ”

Mark makes things worse by leaning in closer, gently placing the back of his hand on your forehead. “You’re kinda hot.”

“I am?”

“Yeah, like I think you may be running a fever.”

He hops off the bed, and rummages around in his little black bag, and pulls out a thermometer. He places a little sleeve on the end, and motions for you to open your mouth. When it beeps, he takes it out of your mouth and looks at the result.

“Your temperature is fine, but you should rest. I’ll see you soon okay?” He pats your head. “Take it easy, I know you’ll do great.”

…

You might not have a term paper, but what you do have is a physics final.

The desk area is littered with eraser dust, crumpled paper, and half filled styrofoam cups of coffee that have since gotten stale. You swear to god that Physics was a subject meant to torture, not enrich the lives of college students. At this rate, you were seriously debating dropping out to become a stripper.

Haechan, not sensing your dismay, disrupts your plans to drop out by telling you something that puts a damper on the rest of your day, as if Physics wasn’t doing that already.

“Have you noticed that Mark’s been hanging out a lot with that one girl lately? What’s her name? So-bin, Yee-ben, Ben 10, ”

“Yebin,” you snap. “And don’t ever disrespect Ben 10 like that again. ”

Haechan lifts his hands up, “ I agree she’s a total bitch, but man is she hot.”

“Aren’t you supposed to make me feel better, not worse?”

Haechan’s face softens and for once in his life, looks a little sorry. “All I’m saying is if you don’t do something soon, someone might do it for you. I overheard her saying something about her and Mark going to spring fling together.”

He’s not wrong, but Mark, at Spring fling? At a Darty? Willingly? His idea of a good time was studying.

“You’re kidding,” you scoff. “As if he’d be caught dead at something like that.”

“I don’t know (y/n). He doesn’t really have much else to do now that the MCAT is over.”

Right, the MCAT. He took it last week. You mentally slap yourself for not asking how it went.

“Speak of the devil.” Haechan says quietly, motioning behind you.

There she is through the glass, Yebin, pulling a seat next to Mark, not before sneaking up behind him and planting a fat kiss right on his cheek.

…

Maybe if this were a movie, you’d cry all weekend and he’d make it up to you; But this is real life, so you secretly cry for a week and sulk for the rest of the month, blaming your puffy eyes on seasonal allergies (In real life, Mark can’t make it up to you because he did nothing wrong. He’s also not even aware that you like him, but that’s besides the point).

Despite Haechan’s attempt to convince you that it could’ve been just a friendly kiss, a greeting kiss, a whatever kiss, you insist that you’re done with your little crush, that it had shriveled up and died. Although not so convinced, Haechan drops the subject all together and instead resorts to comforting you in his own way, which mainly just consists of making fun of you about other things.

Mark is a touchy subject, and you’re still avoiding him. Why? You don’t really know. You know it’s not fair to Mark, who is probably very hurt and confused at your lack of communication. Nonetheless, he doesn’t question it, and is so infuriatingly mature with his emotions that you suspect that he even respects it, because he stops texting you after a while.

You feel bad about stonewalling him, leaving him in the dark, but really, what would you say to him?

“Sorry-I-haven’t-been-talking-to-you-it’s-just-that-I’m-in-love-with-you-and-I’m-butthurt-that-you-have-a-girlfriend-of-course-it’s-not-really-your-fault-but-”

You shudder at the thought, because it’s just plain embarrassing.

But really, you’re not the best at expressing your emotions—you’ve never been. Frankly, you’re tired of expressing your emotions because it never got you anywhere. Not with your mom, not with your dad, and definitely not with Yuta, who you dated for a year and half a year just to dump you like you were nothing.

It’s not worth it, to put your emotions on the line for anyone, not anymore. You locked your heart away a long time ago, and you were a fool to let it come out last time, and you like to think you learn from your mistakes.

At least, that’s what you think, until you return home one Sunday night from the library and see a little cup of your favorite milk tea at the door, with a straw neatly balanced on the top.

…

When spring fling rolls around, you still haven’t spoken to Mark, and if your friends catch on, they don't mention it. They know by now that you prefer to deal with things alone, to digest them for what they are and then promptly moving on—you know, like processing a death.

It doesn’t really matter, you think. You and Mark have always been friends, and will always be friends. Nothing more, nothing less. And when you get over yourself, things will be fine.

But really, how can it be fine when your whole world stops every time Mark looks at you?

You try not to dwell on it, even now weeks later. You’re busy getting ready to go out, blotting your lipstick on some tissue paper in your friend Yuna’s bathroom.

“(y/n), you look amazing.”

When you turn to look at yourself in the mirror she’s right; The mascara you put on your lashes really brings out the color of your eyes, and your skin (thanks to Yuna’s highlighter compact) is literally glowing. You feel really pretty.

You turn to smile at her. “Thanks to you.” you tell her, and she gets bashful, pushing you out of the seat and ushering you out the door. You make it down stairs no problem, but she calls you as soon as you walk out the door.

“Yes, I have blotting papers with me, and no, I am not dating Haechan I’ve told you thousands of times-”

“What about me?”

You turn around to find Haechan leaning against the dormitory wall, already waiting.

Embarrassed, you tell her you need to go and hang up the phone.

“How long have you been standing here? Hopefully not too long.” You apologize, but he assures you it’s all right.

“Are you sure your friends are fine with you leaving them early to go with me?”

“Yes Haechan, they’re just happy that I have someone to go with.” you sigh. “Almost too happy.”

He laughs, after looking at you, he pauses. “You look nice.”

“You do too, Hyuck.”

If you didn’t know any better, you would say he seems embarrassed at your compliment.

When you walk into the venue, you’re not surprised at how spacious it is. You’re used to your school going all out, from the kale salads and now, spring fling. They might as well call it spring semi-formal, because everyone is dressed their best.

You see Johnny at the end of the punch table, and he waves, motioning for you two to join him.

“And my favorite couple,” he greets you two, and you almost smack him upside down the head.

“Relax, I’m just kidding.” and he leans in for a hug. “How are you (y/n), I haven’t seen you in a second.”

“I’m good, just been super busy. You were so right, Professor Kim has been really keeping me on my toes in Physics 430,” you laugh. “Every time I walk into the classroom I can feel my life flash through my very eyes.”

He laughs, and you all laugh with him. Johnny tends to have that kind of effect on people.

“How’s Mark?” he asks, and you cringe. “It’s been a while.”

You laugh nervously “ I haven’t seen him in a while either.”

“Oh really. Don’t you see each other every week?”

“Well we used to,” you panic. “Just not anymore because, you know, I-”

“Because you’ve been so busy,” Haechan finishes.

Johnny gives you two a strange look but continues talking anyway.

“Well that’s life. Poor boy’s been studying for the MCAT like his rent is due tomorrow.”

“More like everyday.” Haechan snickers.

Johnny doesn’t hesitate to flame Haechan for his insolence, and begins teasing him for almost failing Calc II (Calc II was kind of hard you admit but that is an admission that will die with you), meanwhile, you’re whisked away by Yuna and her entourage. You glance at Johnny and Haechan, who bid you farewell with a nod of their heads.

It’s fun, you’re having a great time dancing, and eating mini hot dogs on a toothpick (you guess your university had to cut corners somewhere). When Roxanne plays, you and Yuna go wild, nearly knocking over a waiter over with a silver tray. You have so much fun, that you forget that Mark Lee exists until you make eye contact across the floor.

It's no surprise that he’s with Yebin, who looks annoyingly prettier than usual, with her makeup all done and satin dress. She’s pulling him in the opposite direction, but Mark seems to pay no mind, instead staying in place, looking at you. A moment passes, and you see him excusing himself. When he begins to head your direction. You panic.

Before you can even react, you feel an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you close. When you finally turn to see who it is, you’re nose to nose with none other than Haechan.

“What are you doing?”

“Just go along with it,” Haechan whispers through his teeth. Your hands are pressed against his chest, and he grabs one of your arms, placing it around his neck.

“Go along with what? Have you lost your mind-”

Before you can finish your sentence, his lips press against yours and your mind goes blank. He tastes like peppermint and aftershave, with his lips soft in the center and just a little chapped around the edges.

When you two finally part, Mark is nowhere to be found, and you don’t know how to feel.

“Haechan I-” you stammer. “I need to go.”

You hurry off, and he doesn’t follow you.

…

When you’re outside, it’s cold; the air is brisk and definitely doesn’t help steady your breathing, it only makes it harder. It’s a lot to process, Mark, Yebin, Haechan. It’s a lot, and you feel like you’re in emotional overdrive, with all the feelings you’ve been trying to keep in for the past few months coming back to bite you.

You sit down at the edge of the fountain outside the venue, and you nearly get soaked. It misses you by mere inches, with the ceramic fish looking at you almost mockingly. You don’t care, with all the thoughts running through your head right now, you think you might go insane.

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there at the fountain when you feel something wrap around you, warm like it was just taken out of the dryer. It smells familiar, like cologne and faintly of antiseptic—it smells like Mark.

You don’t look at him when he sits down next to you, legs open, hands crossed. And he doesn’t look at you. It’s radio silent.

“So you and Haechan, huh.”

“So you and Yebin.” you echo.

Mark looks at you for the first time, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Oh that.” He shuffles awkwardly. “I don’t really like her like that.”

Your head raises in surprise, and you face each other for the first time in months.

“I thought you guys had a thing.”

Mark scratches the back of his head. “Well we do, but it’s just in her head” he says, and you can’t help but laugh. “She came onto me last week, so I finally set things straight.” Noticing your reaction, he just shakes his head.

“I don’t think it worked though,” he adds.

“I would think, you’ve always been too nice for your own good.”

“I just didn’t want to hurt her feelings, you know?” he murmurs. “I feel terrible.”

“You’re not a terrible person just because you don’t like someone back.”

“Maybe not, but I believe not wanting you and Haechan to be together does.”

It takes a moment for his words to register within you, and even after you process them, you’re not sure what to say.

“We don’t like each other like that.” you interrupt him.

Mark looks visibly confused. “Then you and Haechan aren’t??” his voice falters.

“No more than you and Yebin. I promise you it’s not what it seems like.” you tell him and it finally clicks. You’d have to thank the idiot later. Right after you slap him.

Mark doesn’t question it, not even when you start crying. You don’t question it either, unsure of why you’re crying.

“You’re so stupid,” you sniffle. “I’ve liked you for so fucking long.”

Mark pulls out his pocket square to gently wipe the tears from your face, and places his hand on top of yours.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that? You could have just said something.” his says softly

“I didn’t want to ruin anything. We’ve always just been friends.”

“I think we’ve always been just more than that.” he says, leaning in, hands cup your face gently.

“Just took some of us a little longer to realize.”

....

“That was very nice of you,” Johnny says.

“Yeah. Very nice.” Haechan echos.

“How long has it been, that you’ve liked her for? Three years?”

“Two going on three.”

Johnny lets out a low whistle, and looks down at the younger boy worriedly. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Haechan glances at you and Mark through the glass, outside the venue. With Mark whispering in your ear and you laughing, you seem so happy; happier than you’ve ever been with him.

“Yeah, I am. More than okay.”

345 notes · View notes

maldito-arbol · 3 years

Text

Let’s talk about the GP zodiacs (Part 2)

HOLSY HSIT I LOVE THE GP KIDS SO MUCH AND THEIR SIGNS ARE SO INTERESTING

Thank u to puff-poff for shooting me with an ask about the gp kids, I think our brains just assimilated

One more note: I should’ve mentioned this in my last post but compatibility between signs doesn’t only apply to romantic relationships, it applies to any kind of relationship like friendships, family relations, etc. It’s just that when it comes to more platonic relationships, wholly incompatible signs are more likely to be able to work something out together. As an example, I’m a Gemini, and I’m about 300% certain I could never ever in my life date a Pisces, but I do have a few Pisces friends that I get along well enough with.

Okay same drill—sign, element, infodump, GO

Violet

Birthdate: June 12th

Sign: Gemini

Element: Air

Overview: SQUEALS GUYS ITS VIOLET MY BELOVED. WE’RE BOTH GEMINIS THEREFORE WE ARE THE SAME PERSON. I’m kidding but no, Violet being a Gemini makes her 100x easier to project onto. So I mentioned before that Air signs are the least in tune with their emotions, are the thinkers before they act, are horribly indecisive, and these very much apply to Geminis as well. However, the most iconic trait of a Gemini is the ability to switch personalities at the drop of a hat whenever it services the group of people they’re in—what most people call the ‘two-faced’ part of Geminis. Hey, I promise you that being two-faced is actually a pretty cool and useful asset when in the hands of a decent human being. It means we get along well with a lot of different people, and if we don’t, we can act like we do as if it’s nothing. This asset, however, can turn into a curse of sorts in that a lot of us have...NO IDEA what our actual personality is. We reshape and remold ourselves and copy traits from other signs to fit in so much that we lose sight of who we are as an individual, and therefore we have a very hard time figuring out what we truly want. This is where the indecisiveness comes into play—ask a Gemini what they want for lunch and you’ll get a “what? Huh? Oh, you pick. I’m fine with whatever.” I know Geminis best because I am one, pls forgive me for rambling so much more about them than the other signssss.

Okay so first of all, let’s talk about Violet adapting to other characters to ‘fit in’. It’s not as obvious because Violet DOES seem to have one very fixed personality, but Violet prefers to speak through actions rather than words, so I would call her following Emma to help the children at GP a Gemini move. She could’ve simply dragged her to Lucas—she’s probably strong enough to do so, but instead she decided to go along with her. This isn’t to say there’s no pushback of course, as Air signs Geminis aren’t idiots, so they’ll often try to reason with others (particularly fire signs cough cough) to try to bring logic and critical thinking into the conversation. However, when that fails, they can still be counted on to support their friends even if they disagree. This is why Geminis and Leos are soulmates you heard it here, the stars said Violemma is the way. BUT ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW VIOLET’S THE ONE ADAM LISTENS TO DURING THE LEUVIS BATTLE. YOU WANNA TALK ABOUT BEING ABLE TO GET ALONG WITH A LOT OF PEOPLE, THERE YOU GO.

Anyway it’s also very much worth noting that while Violet can seem very harsh at times (bc Geminis will put you in your PLACE), bringing her logical kind of advice into conversations can be a very helpful comforter.

On another note this scene is so gay?

Compatibility and ships: hellooooooo Air sign Violet you are compatible with other Air signs (Aquarius, Libra, and Gemini) as well as Fire signs (Leo, Sagittarius, and Aries). Usually you’ll see Aquarius and Sagittarius as the most compatible with Geminis but I disagree with that because I have never met a Sagittarius I like so I’m still pointing fervently at Leos and the fact that Emma is a Leo. Listen. Violemma is the way. I am determined to convert all of you to Violemma if it’s the last thing I do. Geminis simply cannot help themselves around Leos they fall like a fucking anvil for that bright, golden-hearted dumbass energy. If there’s any Leos in the tpn fandom let me know I might just propose to you.

Oliver

Birthdate: October 25th

Sign: Scorpio

Element: Water

Overview: the first time I looked up Oliver’s birthday I went “Scorpio???? REALLY????” but then this is another case where the more I think about it, it does indeed make sense. If Leos are the natural leaders of the Fire signs, then Scorpios are the natural leaders of the Water signs. Where Cancers and Pisces will often lose themselves to their emotions, Scorpios have a very strong handle on them. I mentioned before that Water signs are at the highest emotional level, but Scorpios are a bit of an interesting case because you oftentimes won’t even notice that they’re very emotional people. They try to act like Air signs in that way, but their true colors are always there, waiting to be coaxed out.

For Oliver, you can clearly tell that his emotional bond with his friends and especially with Lucas is very high—but even so, he doesn’t let his emotions cloud his judgment or his ability to adapt to the situation at hand. Where earth signs are very fixed and difficult to move, water signs are always moving and changing to find solutions best suited for new circumstances. The best example I can give is the part where the music plays early, and despite internally panicking about it, Oliver is the one who naturally steps up to calm everyone down.

Scorpios are great at handling others’ emotions as well as their own, which makes them marvelously empathetic leaders. We stan.

Compatibility and ships: as a Water sign, Oliver is compatible with other Water signs (Cancer, Pisces, and Scorpio) as well as Earth signs (Taurus, Virgo, and Capricorn) so speaking broadly that makes him compatible with Pepe (a Pisces) and Zack (a Cancer) but narrowing it down, Scorpios are usually best with Tauruses and Cancers. Idk if I’m the only one who ships Oliver with Pepe but I know there’s a few people who ship him with Zack—so congrats to you guys, you won the stars’ approval.

Lucas

Birthdate: November 28th

Sign: Sagittarius

Element: Fire

Overview: yall,,,, when I found out Lucas was a Saggy Titty I legitimately guffawed out loud. Lucas and Sagittarius is so funny.... because it’s so wrong. Saggy Titties are the definition of chaos, they’re brazen, impulsive, and constantly changing. Like think of a frat boy in a house full of beer and pool tables and hot girls and you get Sagittarius. This is why I have never met a Sagittarius I like—because they have frat boy energy, and even non-male Sagittariuses require wayyy too much energy for me to handle. I guess the only time Lucas really does act like a Sagittarius is in his childhood with Yuugo, and the way he’s a lot bolder and outgoing versus the quieter older Lucas we have now.

It is important to note that Lucas has been through a lot of trauma and lost a lot of comrades which could very well change the a person’s entire outlook and turn their personality 180 degrees—that could be a large factor, although on the flip side, Yuugo still fits his Capricorn sign even after going through what he’s been through. Different events affect different people differently. Lucas was most likely knocked entirely off his Sagittarius high-horse very quickly when he arrived in Goldy Pond. But if I had no prior knowledge of who he was beforehand, I very well might’ve pegged him a Leo like Emma or even another subtle Aries like Norman. So yes, he does indeed have fire energy, it’s just generally very lackluster and farrrr away from Sagittarius’ level.

Compatibility and ships: okay so I know the only Lucas ship with any weight to it in this fandom is Yuucas, and here’s the thing,,, A Sagittarius and Capricorn combo is the most horrifying fucking couple imaginable and I’m stan so hard. Realistically speaking, your Capricorns would try to put a leash on their Sagittariuses because man. I forgot to mention how childish Sagittariuses can be (though the frat boy comparison should’ve been a clue), and holy shit that poor Capricorn is gonna get ripped to shreds by their Sagittarius. Imagine like a super pompous cowboy trying to ride a furious bull that’s trying to buck him off like there’s no tomorrow. Capricorns are people who want complete control over themselves and their partners, while Sagittariuses,, Saggy Titties just want to see the world burn. Put them together and you could probably cause the End Times Apocalypse. But you know what? Good for them. I think Yuugo and Lucas love each other enough that the toxicity that comes with typical pairups with these two signs is about nonexistent between them. But I fully believe they could still destroy an entire planet and that’s valid of them to do so. Anyway moving on!

you wanna talk about another Sagittarius that makes absolutely no sense?

Paula

Birthdate: December 9th

Sign: Sagittarius

Element: Fire

Overview: My authors I am begging you, stop putting character birthdays in the Sagittarius zone you clearly don’t know what a Sagittarius is.

Since I refuse to acknowledge Paula as a Sagittarius, let’s talk about what sign she actually acts like because I said so. Paula’s a Virgo. Fight me Shirai. (Also im sus that shirai is virgophobic because where the fuck are my virgos. There’s like zero major characters that are virgos, and the characters that ARE don’t even act like virgos. I’m coming for your small intestine Shirai) so as earth signs, virgos are generally pretty resourceful and of course level-headed. They’re kinda shy and reserved, but they’re also very hard workers you can count on when you need to get a job done. Nary will you find a Virgo that procrastinates or attempts to weasel their way out of a mission they’ve been given. The unmovable earth in virgos shows through in how committed they are, and we can see all these traits in Paula. Though she’s a quieter member of the GP resistance, you can tell just how much of an asset she is to them. She doesn’t run, doesn’t lose her cool, and she’s good at pointing out important details.

Pls let me decide your characters’ birthdays for you Shirai I promise I am good at it.

Compatibility and ships: I guess, astrologically speaking, as a Sagittarius, Paula does fit pretty well with Sonya because she’s a Gemini. I actually know next to nothing about Paula ships but I do know she’s lesbian and her and Sonya are cute but I also ship her with Barbara because reasons don’t ask questions I WILL bite you anyway they’re compatible too because barb’s also a Gemini.

Lot of Geminis, don’t you think? Yes I do. Let’s talk about them.

Sonya and Sandy

Birthdates: June 3rd and May 22nd respectively

Signs: Gemini

Element: Air

Overview: these two are what I call the gemini twins bECAUSE THEYRE ALWAYS HANGING OUT AND ITS SO TRUE GEMINIS LOVE EACH OTHER BUT ALSO ITS SO WEIRD THAT WE GET ALONG. imagine like two of those one way mirrors facing each other where it just goes on and on and on for infinite mirror and that’s what two Geminis hanging out is like. Look, they’re literally thinking the same thing and it’s so great

Anyway there isn’t a whole lot of Sandy and Sonya content to go off of in the first place, but them being Geminis seems reasonable to me—at the very least they are indeed meant to get along well and they’re so in sync I could cry. Plus they’re pretty intuitive and able to think right on the spot as they’re facing Nous and Nouma (at least at first) My man Shirai also.. really likes Geminis for some reason because they keep popping up. So instead of one Spider-Man meme it looks more like this,

Compatibility and ships: not gonna dwell too long on this section because from previous ones you may already recall they’re compatible with each other and I guess with Paula as well as I must begrudgingly accept the fact that shes canonically a Sagittarius.

Pepe

Birthdate: February 19th

Sign: Pisces

Element: Water

Overview: so I mentioned before that water signs are at about the highest emotion level, which makes Pisces a very sensitive group like Cancers. But Pisces in general are known for being the kindest and most accepting people as well, which means they’re able to make a lot of friends very easily. They’re basically that one person you sat next to in class who started a conversation with you just to be nice. Now again, there’s not a whole lot of Pepe content to go off of, but we can tell he’s kind and loving to his friends and the other kids in GP. One thing I can mention is that Pisces usually are the one of the nosiest of the signs, and they get very bothered by lies and secrets (this is true for a lot of water signs, but Pisces are the worst in my experience) so we got this single piece that may have a little bit of the Pisces in Pepe showing:

Compatibility and ships: So as a Pisces, Pepe is only compatible with Oliver and Zack considering they’re also water signs. Everyone else is Fire and Air, funnily enough, but the Pepe ships with those two are super cute I think so it’s ok.

Zack

Birthdate: July 7th

Sign: Cancer

Element: Water

Overview: so do I think Zack fits his sign? Yes, in a way I do. I already went into Cancers when I explained Don, so quick recap: Cancers are some of the most sensitive and empathetic, so their loyalty to their loved ones is pretty close to on-par with an Aries. And while Zack isn’t as outwardly emotional as someone like Don, the Cancer in him shows up well in that he’s constantly taking extremely difficult missions he doesn’t want his friends to risk, and he shrugs off any injury to himself.

This might just be a me thing but almost every Cancer I’ve met has a habit of doing That. I am so concerned for their safety. I guess though, if I hadn’t known his sign beforehand, I 100% would’ve pegged him an Aries.

Compatibility and ships: I already went over this with Pepe, but Zack is compatible with Pepe and Oliver. Y’all ok listen to me. OT3. Make it happen. Between them they have every sign in the element of water. They’d be unstoppable.

Gillian

Birthdate: September 30th

Sign: Libra

Element: Air

Overview: here’s a fun one. So as I previously stated, air signs are usually out of tune with their emotions, but where that causes Aquariuses and Geminis to repress or hide them, Libras,,,, just dump them everywhere. Listen I know Libras are supposed to be the sign of the balance scales and they have a thing about the world being perfectly balanced which makes them more prone to revenge bUT ALSO. MY first and foremost takeaway from Libras is that they all suffer from Rich Bitch syndrome, in which they obsess over material items and every Libra has a thing about cute girly stuff change my mind. HOWEVER, they’re often very chaotic as well, the kinda Sagittarius of the Air signs. So like a super cute and seemingly fun girl who will probably murder you in your sleep.

I’m sorry I can’t take it I’ve been laughing at this for the past fifteen minutes it’s too funny. Anyway, Gillian’s Rich Bitch Syndrome appears through her fashion statement. Her PINS. omg. Gillian your Libra is showing.

Compatibility and ships: as a Libra Gillian is compatible with other Air signs (Aquarius, Gemini, Libra) as well as Fire signs (Aries, Sagittarius, Leo) but she’s most compatible with Aries and Sagittarius so—— Paula yes, but also Nigel because he’s an Aries! Speaking of Nigel,

Nigel

Birthdate: March 27th

Sign: Aries

Element: Fire

Overview: Aries Nigel doesn’t come as a surprise, let’s be real here. I delved into Aries before with Norman, so just as a recap: Aries are so intensely loyal to the ones they love and would do absolutely anything for them even at the cost of their lives, and this can make them prone to outbursts of anger and/or impulsivity. Here’s your one image of Aries Nigel, I don’t even have to explain:

Compatibility and ships: so I already said this but Nigel is at his most compatible with Gillian. Are there other Nigel ships?? Pls let me know I’m very curious.

Aw, it’s over now :(

I loved talking about the GP kids they fill the void in my heart. Now to move onto talking about the demons because the silliest idiot requested it and I am beyond ecstatic to spout pure headcanon bullshit. If you’re feelin excited then feel free to keep sending characters my way I will be happy to ramble about their canon zodiac or my headcanon for their zodiac

Edit: i forgot to link part 1 to anyone who wants it and doesn’t want to stalk my profile to find it

#the promised neverland #yakusoku no neverland #tpn analysis #tpn #goldy pond #you have no idea the trouble tumblr put me through attempting to put only ten images in this giant post #fuck u tumbley for having a limit #but i also took the extra effort to make unnecessary memes so that ones on me #hope y’all like #ugh this made me think about GP ships and how much i wanna draw them #especially the new OT3 I can hyperfixate on #also can we talk about Sagittarius erasure in media #the only Sagittarius I know who actually acts like a Sagittarius in his respective show is Shou from mp100 #but he’s also one of my favorites so I guess not all sagittariuses (derogatory)#what was i talking about #tpn manga spoilers #mal rants #man I wanted to wait a little longer to post this but I’m literally on the brink of passing out I’m so tired #so here ya go take it #idk if I’ve made errors I was like half-awake when I proofread it #but anyway g’night I’m gonna go into a coma

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polite-pandemonium · 3 years

Text

Digimon fic I will never finish

Writing has absolutely taken a back burner to the endless strategies, recommendations, reports, and presentations I’ve had to put together for work since October. I miss writing and feeling creative.

Since I still don’t have time to write (I’m currently procrastinating on putting together a deck for a talk I’m doing Wednesday morning by compiling this), in a bid to feel slightly creative, here’s some unedited scenes from various Digimon fics I will probably never finish. I have written thousands of words for this fandom that will never see the light of day, so may as well give them their time in the sun. Usual ships you’d expect from me - Sora/Yamato, Taichi/Mimi, and Takeru/Hikari, but I have labelled which scenes feature which ships below, cause this got long.

(also, for some reason, almost ALL of these are sad? am I okay???)

I am easy to find - taichi/mimi we’ve got something (kind of funny) - yamato/sora (taichi is there, too) somewhere in her smile, she knows - takeru/hikari to be so lonely - yamato/sora/jyou combustible - yamato/sora everyone’s gotta lean (sometime) - taichi/meiko, yamato/sora you already know - takeru/hikari

I am easy to find taichi/mimi

in which Taichi and Mimi reunite for the first time in years at a party in New York.

“Are you?” Mimi broached the topic slowly. Something about the way he said her name made Mimi feel like she should proceed with caution. “Still with Meiko, I mean?”

Taichi was quiet for a moment, peeling at the label on his beer bottle. “Uh, no,” he responded, his tone tight. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “We haven’t been together in a while.” He peered up at Mimi then, curiously. “Didn’t you know that? You guys were close, weren’t you?”

Mimi felt her stomach twist. “We were,” she looked down, “but life happens. We fell out of touch. I try to keep up with Facebook and Instagram, but even that can be difficult, especially with my job. With the exception of Jyou and Sora — and I guess Yamato, by extension — I don’t really talk to anyone these days.”

“Yeah,” Taichi said quietly. “We noticed.”

Stomach twisting even further, Mimi kept her gaze fixed to the ground. “I’m sorry. It’s hard. With the time difference and stuff; it got harder as we got older. And I speak mostly English here, so my Japanese has gotten kind of rusty, so I am sometimes nervous about picking up the phone. You must be able to tell; I sound like I’m out of practice.”

Shrugging, Taichi propped himself straighter up against the wall. “Yeah, a little, maybe,” he conceded. “Still. A long time ago, it would have been strange to think of a universe where you’re weren’t close with Meiko. You guys were tight as hell in high school...and yet here we are. I can’t believe you don’t talk enough for her to tell you something like this.” His tone sounded equal parts confused and judgemental, and Mimi felt herself bristle.

“I could say the same thing for you,” she raised her beer and took a long swig, the taste bitter on her tongue, pointing her finger at him accusingly. “I mean, you were dating her. Why didn’t she tell you that we fell out of touch? What, did she not talk to you enough for her to tell you that we weren’t close?”

Taichi chuckled softly. “Yeah, actually,” he lifted his gaze to hers and Mimi paused at the look of hurt in them. She hadn’t seen that look in more years than she could count. “That was kind of the problem. She didn’t talk to me about anything.”

Averting her eyes from his, Mimi took another drink of beer. How awkward. “Oh,” she mustered up. “I um...I’m sorry to hear that.”

Shrugging, he pushed himself off the wall. “Whatever,” he said, “Like you said, life happens. Sometimes you can only go so far with a person. Sometimes there’s places within them that you can’t reach. It...it happens.”

“I guess so,” Mimi frowned. She couldn’t say she could exactly relate, could understand how he was feeling. Something about that made her feel unsettled in a way she couldn’t quite place her finger on. “How long ago did you break up?”

Raising his eyebrows, Taichi laughed. “Wow, cool, thanks Mimi,” he ran a hand through his hair, “haven’t seen you in six years, but sure, let’s rehash the details of my failed love life and arguably one of the most painful relationships in my existence to date. After we’re done with me, shall we run through your recent dating adventures?”

“Sorry,” Mimi said quickly, flushing. She hadn’t thought of it that way at all; that it was too much, too soon. She was just trying to fill in the gaps. “There’s just…a lot I missed. A lot to catch up on.”

Taichi was silent for a moment; so quiet, she swore she could hear his breathing. “Yeah, I guess you’re right about that. It has been a while.” He paused. “I can’t believe it’s been eight years.”

Sensing a moment to break the tension, Mimi grinned cheekily. “Did you miss me, Taichi-san? Did you miss me this whole time we weren’t together? Are you stunned by how attractive and put together I have become?”

Rolling his eyes, Taichi polished off his beer. “Wow. Glad to see you haven’t changed.”

“What?!” Mimi exclaimed, “Of course I have! My hair isn’t even pink anymore; it’s rose gold!”

––––––––––––––––––––––––––

we’ve got something (kind of funny) sora/yamato, taichi/mimi

in which Taichi unexpectedly runs into Sora.

Taichi arrived at Yamato’s apartment just as Sora was leaving.

“Oh, Taichi,” she said awkwardly in the doorway. “Hi.”

A grin spread across Taichi’s face. “Hi, Sora,” he said, looking her up and down. Her usually neat hair was pulled back in a messy braid and she was wearing an oversized red plaid shirt that he was 95% sure was not hers. “Whatcha doin’ here?”

Sora smiled back stiffly. “I was just stopping by,” she hitched her bag on her shoulder. “And now I’m just leaving.”

“Just stopping by, huh?” Taichi’s grin grew wider. “Pretty early in the morning to be just stopping by.”

“Says the person who is also just stopping by at 9 in the morning,” Sora said pointedly, stepping past Taichi to enter the hallway. “You and Yamato have something you want to tell me?”

Taichi’s face fell. “Goodbye, Sora!”

“Goodbye, Taichi!” she called over her shoulder. “Have a good day!”

Glancing back at Yamato’s open door, Taichi saw the blonde leaning against the wall, arms folded, an annoyed expression on his face. He was still in his pyjamas.

“This is why people don’t just drop by anymore,” he scowled, “you should have texted first.”

“Sorry,” Taichi said, not sounding sorry at all. He stepped into Yamato’s apartment, closing the door behind him as he bent down to take off his shoes in the genkan. “I was hopped up after my flight last night and couldn’t really sleep.”

Pushing himself off the wall, Yamato shrugged. “Whatever. You want coffee?”

“Sure,” Taichi flopped down on Yamato’s living room couch, stretching out. “So, you and Sora, huh?”

Yamato set a mug down on his counter, loudly, before responding. “What about me and Sora?”

Watching as his best friend picked up a French press, Taichi grinned mischievously. “You guys back together?”

Yamato’s eyes flicked up to him, his head still bent over their coffee. “I’m not answering that.”

“Okay,” Taichi conceded, “you guys sleeping together again then?”

“I’m not answering that either.”

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

somewhere in her smile, she knows takeru/hikari

in which Hikari pesters Takeru about who he is taking to her brother’s wedding.

“I know,” she agrees, “it’s way too much. But it’s what Mimi wants and if it’s what Mimi wants, then it’s what Taichi wants,” she sighs. “Have you really not given the wedding date thing any real thought, though?”

He turns to her to answer and stops, feeling himself get distracted at the sight of a bead of sweat making its way down her neck. Just a little bit further and it would slip underneath her shirt, down to skin he could not see and could not touch.

Despite the temperature, he finds himself feeling chilly.

“Takeru!” Hikari snaps, her features looking slightly annoyed. “Are you listening to me at all?”

“No,” he admits, biting into his ice cream. The wafer had gone soggy by now, the whole thing basically mush. “Not really.”

Whacking him on the arm, Hikari rolls her eyes. “Typical. Why do I even bother?”

Takeru grins. She’s so easy to rile up, even after all these years. “What’s wrong? You want my undivided attention, Hikari-chan?” he slips the honorific onto the end of her name, long abandoned since their early 20s, whenever he’s trying to be cute. Whenever he’s really trying to rile her up.

“No,” she says stiffly. “I just am trying to have a normal conversation with you and you’re barely even listening.”

Sighing, Takeru crumbles up the wrapper his ice cream had been in and leans down to grab his bag from its place on the ground. “It’s not that I’m not listening, but I just haven’t thought about this, so I don’t really have an answer. I’ll probably just ask Mizuki or Himawari from work, one of the girls I can have fun with without too much commitment.”

Hikari scrunches her nose. “Mizuki or Himawari? Those aren’t dates, those are just your drinking buddies.”

“Exactly,” Takeru says, pocketing the wrapper in his bag and setting it back down. “If I take a girl I have been on a few dates with or something, then she’ll think that this means more than it is and I do not want that.”

“Of course not,” Hikari rolls her eyes, folding her arms. “God forbid a woman think you’re actually interested in her.”

“Yes,” Takeru agrees. “God forbid.”

Hikari shakes her head, sets down her ice cream cup. She hadn’t finished it, it’s soupy consistency now looking far less than appealing. “You know what I think you should do?”

“What, Hikari?” He leans forward, resting his hand on the railing between them. “What does my lovely, grumbly best friend think I should do?”

“I think,” she begins matter of factly, “that for the wedding, you should bring someone you like.”

He nods slowly. “Got it. Okay. I’ll bring Patamon then.”

“Idiot!” Hikari whacks him in the arm again. “No, I think you should bring someone you like. Someone you really, really like.”

The words stumble out of Takeru’s mouth before he can stop them. He’s not even sure he thinks about it before speaking. “Well, I really like you. So why don’t we go together?”

A beat passes between them.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

to be so lonely yamato/sora/jyou

in which Jyou has a realization.

“You know, I never even felt a reason to be jealous,” Jyou says quietly, fingers pressed to his lips. “I never felt even the slightest need to. Yamato was a part of your past and I was a part of your present and that was enough for me. I trusted you so much, that just knowing I was yours was enough for me. But clearly I was foolish. Clearly, I was foolish enough to think that what we had really mattered.”

“No, Jyou,” Sora raises a hand, tears running down her cheeks. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like, Sora?” Jyou snaps. “Because I’m having a really hard time trying to compute what any of this is, never mind what’s it not.”

“It’s just...it’s Yamato,” Sora chokes out.

Jyou lets out a laugh. “Yeah,” he swallows. “That’s what I thought.”

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

combustible yamato/sora

in which Yamato and Sora break up in Paris, during Fashion Week.

They stare up at the Notre Dame, or what’s left of it rather, covered up in scaffolding and tarps. It makes Sora sad to see the sight of it. The last time they were here, the cathedral had been strong, beautiful, and whole. After the fire had ripped through it, even with repairs, she could feel that it was never going to be the same.

Much like them.

“Yamato,” she turns to speak to him. “This isn’t working.”

He’s quiet for a moment before replying. “What isn’t?”

Sora swallows. “You know, Yamato.”

He doesn’t look at her and that’s how she knows she’s right. His eyes drop to the ground instead.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “it’s not.”

Sora feels something well up in her. “It’s not that I don’t want it to work. It’s just not anymore and it breaks my heart.”

He nods. “I feel the same. But we can’t keep denying it anymore. It’s been years since it’s been working.”

This stings Sora, the implication from him that things have been bad for far longer than either of them acknowledged. While she can admit it to herself, to hear him say it hurts.

“It hasn’t been that bad,” she folds her arms, feeling cold.

Yamato glances at her then and she feels a shiver run down her spine, for reasons she can’t quite explain. “No,” he looks back up at Notre Dame, “but it hasn’t been good either.”

A silence settles over them, both unsure of how to fill the space that has appeared between them.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

everyone’s gotta learn (sometime) taichi/meiko, yamato/sora

in which Taichi turns to Yamato and Sora following his break up with Meiko.

Meiko left him on a Tuesday and he had seen it coming a mile away. Things between them had been crumbling for months — probably even years — so it wasn’t a surprise to him when he stepped inside their (his?) apartment in Kichijoji after a long shift at work to find every trace of her completely gone.

Well, that was partially a lie. He had expected Meiko to leave — but he hadn’t expected her to be so dramatic about it, just up and go in the middle of the day.

He runs a hand through his hair, letting out an exasperated sigh, before pulling out his cell phone.

Yamato answers on the second ring.

“Hi,” he says slowly, and Taichi already knows he knows exactly what happened; Meiko must have gotten to Sora first. “What’s up?”

“Meiko left,” Taichi leans again his counter, pinching the bridge of his nose. He can feel a headache coming on, strong. “I just got home and there’s nothing of hers here.”

Yamato inhales sharply on the other side, a little bit too convincingly. He definitely knew. “Fuck,” he swears, “Taichi, I—”

“If Sora already told you, don’t sweat it,” Taichi lets out another sigh. “I would say it sucks that everyone knew before me, but it’s not like I didn’t know this was coming.”

Yamato exhales. “Fuck, shit, Taichi, I am so sorry,” he says, and he sounds it, “Sora just found out maybe ten, fifteen minutes ago? And the two of us have been sick waiting for this call. I’m so sorry, I feel like an ass.”

“Don’t,” Taichi interjects, chuckling darkly. “It’s not on you that she thought it would be nice to tell my friends before she even told me.”

A beat passes between them. That wasn’t fair of him; Yamato and Sora were as much Meiko’s friends as they were his. Taichi cringes, wondering how awkward he made it for Yamato.

If he’s phased, Yamato doesn’t show it in his voice. “Do you want to come over? I’ll cook and Sora will go get beer.”

“Yes,” Taichi says without a heartbeat, picking up his keys off the counter. “Yes, I do.”

He shuts the door to his practically empty apartment. He’ll deal with it later.

x x x

He goes to Yamato and Sora’s and tries to ignore the signs of their domesticity that he normally wouldn’t notice. The same signs that were all over his own apartment until meer hours ago.

He never feels like a third wheel with Yamato and Sora. He never feels like three’s company. But something about that night, with them trying as hard as they could to make him feel even a little better, he feels it, intensely.

He drinks to make the feeling go away.

He gets drunk, horribly drunk, and calls his sister, who doesn’t answer. Koushiro and Mimi are in Seoul. The chances of Jyou answering are slim to none, and if Hikari didn’t answer, Takeru wouldn’t either. He doesn’t want to talk to any of the others.

He passes out on the couch and an hour later, finds himself leaning over the toilet, throwing up while Sora rubs his back. Yamato brings him water.

He’s not sure if it’s how well they work as a unit or the unconditional kindness they show him time and time again, but something about it all breaks him, and he starts to weep on their bathroom floor.

The tile is cold against his skin.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

you already know takeru/hikari

in which Takeru and Hikari reach a breaking point.

“Sometimes I look at you,” he says softly, watching the tears fall down her face, “and the years between us stack up. They stack up and up and it’s like, none of it matters. Sometimes I look at you and all I feel is the weight of things unsaid and all of the places I can’t reach. Sometimes I look at you and I feel like I don’t know you at all.”

Hikari winces, clearly stung. Something dark passes over her face. “Can you ever speak like a normal person?”

Takeru narrows his eyes. “What?”

“Speak like a normal person,” Hikari says slowly, punctuating each word. “Just say things the way a person normally word instead of making everything sound like a declaration in a novel. I get it, Takeru, you’re a writer. We all get it.”

Chuckling, Takeru shakes his head. “Wow. After all that, after everything I just said, that’s what you cling to? My verbiage?”

“Do you know why, Takeru?” Hikari snaps, her voice raising, “because you talk like that and it makes me feel like you think we’re characters in one of your books. Like you’re just projecting all of these things on to me, all these ideas of me and you and what we’re supposed to be. You tell me that you look and me and all you can feel is the weight of things unsaid? Who talks like that, Takeru? Who talks like that when you’re apparently sharing the deepest of your feelings?”

“Characters in a novel?” Takeru gapes, “are you serious right now? I am a writer, Hikari, it does make my feelings more verbose, but it doesn’t mean that I am projecting things onto you.”

“Oh yeah?” Hikari begins to pace, “cause you talk like that in moments like this and you call my lingerie exquisite and you tell me time stops when you’re with me and all I can think is you think we’re part of this grand, sweeping story when the reality is we’re just two fucked up people who had to go through some fucked up stuff when we were kids. We’re not anything special, you and I, Takeru. Not really. And it’s hard to take anything seriously when you act like we are cause it makes me feel like you’re right, you don’t really know me at all.”

Takeru is quiet. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that maybe you just like the idea of me,” she says quiet, her voice still brimming with anger, “that you like the idea of being in love with your childhood sweetheart. That you think this codepency we’ve bred together is romantic and incomparable. That you refuse to take me as I am — a flawed human being who — and instead take me as your other half because of some ridiculous personality traits forced onto us when we were eight. Nothing you have ever said to me during all of this has ever felt like you were really saying it to me.”

Takeru feels like she shot him. “That’s because I can’t talk to you, Hikari,” he steps closer to her, “because everytime I do, you clam up and go somewhere I can’t reach. I’ve tried talking to you about this Hikari. I’ve tried practically our whole lives. And every time I get close, I stop, because I know it would hurt you and you’d go even further away from me. I’ve wanted to tell you what this feels like for years.”

“Yeah?” Hikari raises her chin, definitely. “What does it feel like?”

“It feels like I am being ripped in half,” Takeru shouts. “Every time we’re together, every time we sleep together, I feel like I am cracking open. I feel like I am cracking open in a bid to get you to finally see me, finally get closer and you just ignore it! There’s no way you haven’t known how I felt, Hikari, no way at all. And yet you still have been fucking me for years now. Years. And it is killing me and I know you knew that and you still went along with it anyway.”

Hikari is silent.

“And I can’t figure out why,” his voice sounds desperate even to him, “I can’t figure out why you would do that. In the beginning, it was fine, but we were younger and I didn’t think it was going to go on forever without something changing. But nothing’s changed, Hikari. And it’s getting too hard. It hurts way too much. I can’t figure out how we got here and I can’t…” he swallows, “I can’t figure out why you’re okay with it. Why you want things to go on this way.”

“I think you should go,” Hikari says.

Takeru nods too, throat tight. “I think I should, too.”

#digimon #digimon adventure #digimon fic #takari #michi #sorato #takeru/hikari #taichi/mimi #yamato/sora #fanfic #fic: I will never finish lol #takeru takaishi #hikari yagami #mimi tachikawa #taichi yagami #yamato ishida #sora takenouchi

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decks-writing-blog · 3 years

Text

Indirectly a Hero

This fic is inspired by my prior doubt about ever being able to even reach 5BC let alone get anywhere close to beating it. So basically thinking about what that would look like in universe brought along the question of what would happened if the Collector decided to just make the Panacea without Beheaded there because they're too weak ever get that far?

Just for the record I now know I can beat 5BC even if it is with a a little bit of help from one of the new aspects in the beta patch (I feel it's technically possible without that but is a very tall order). I reached the Collector for the first a little while ago only for him to glitch. T.T Once he's fixed though it's only a matter of time before I get that 1st 5BC win. Perhaps for the 2nd 5BC win for the true ending I'll insist on doing it without the help of an aspect, depends on how I feel though because this game is hella hard.

The door opened with little more than a creak of its hinges, signaling the state Beheaded was in even before they’d entered the room. Which they did rather slowly, hunched over as they clutching at wound in their side, blood leaking freely through their fingers. That wasn’t their only wound either. Various injuries marred their body and tattered their blood-soaked clothing. They left a dripping trail behind them as they walked further in.

Collector watched them make their slow, painful way over to him. “You’re going to fight the Hand of the King like that?” His tone was mocking but it was hard not to feel a little pity for them given how often he’d seen them in such a state by now. Especially in comparison to their usual swagger. Though at least this way they didn’t destroy the door as they entered.

Beheaded lifted a hand to flip him off. They were still as rude as ever though, that was good to see.

Despite that, as always, they handed over all the Dead Cells they’d collected since last Collector had last seen them. He’d long since run out of stuff to give them in return but they thankfully still handed them over without even needing to be asked to. Seems it was just habit for them at this point and Collector wasn’t going to question it lest they stop doing so.

They then moved on, heading off to fight the Hand of the King again. Given their state, they would almost without a doubt lose again too. They’d only managed to defeat him a grand total of three times now. The last time had been quite a while ago too. But given how many other times they struggled long and hard against various other obstacles and enemies, they’d probably eventually prevail again. Unless Collector found that cure for the Malaise first.

He turned to looked at the container behind him now brimming with fresh Cells. Thanks to Beheaded, he had no shortage of Cells to experiment with and thanks to Time Keeper, no shortage of time to do so either. As a result, he was starting to get close to… something. Whether that something would actually be an effective cure was impossible to say. At this point he doubted it, but it was the only thing he had left to try so he was going to. Just a little bit more and he’d have it.

Time was impossible to measure in a time loop and thus there was no way to even guess how long it had taken but Collector finally had the ability to create a panacea. A mythic cure from a children’s tale, it wasn’t likely to work. But if it failed, there was no hope left for the island anyway so it wouldn’t change anything. Now all that was left to do was to wait for Beheaded to show up and he’d reveal it to them.

Except… Beheaded never showed. Despite Time Keeper’s best efforts, the Malaise was still getting worse, increasing the amount of undead roaming the island, making them more aggressive as well. Beheaded, already having a hard time, was struggling even more now. Rare was the attempt they got anywhere even close to the castle, let alone to it and then all the way here.

So as much as he would’ve preferred one last dose of Cells from Beheaded as well as the opportunity to show them the panacea, he couldn’t wait forever. And really, he was only procrastinating because this was the island’s final hope so if it failed there was nothing more he could do. It was about time he just got this over with though

After one last look around the empty observatory, he turned to look at the Catalyst. He’d been planning to use fresh Cells from Beheaded for this but they clearly weren’t up to the task of reaching this point so he’d just have to use some of the spare Cells left over from all the experiments that had led to this. Most of them he’d used up in said experiments but there was still enough left to do this at least once or twice.

He left to get a Cell storage container from the other room. Upon returning it didn’t take long to hook it up and transfer the Cells over. He then positioned a flask underneath its spout and turned it on.

The Cells spun and danced within the machine, condensing down into a liquid form and pouring into the flask. It glowed blue, coming up to almost the halfway point. He hadn’t used quite enough Cells. Not that it mattered a whole lot anyway as it wasn’t likely to work.

So with no one to share this experiment with – and what a vast shame that was – he grasped the flask by its neck and unceremoniously lifted it to his mouth to take a small sip. The liquid had the consistency of honey and had a sharp bitter medicinal taste. Unpleasant but not too bad really. Now if only…

The surge of energy that shot through him surprised him enough to send him to his knees. Oh! That felt good! With a chuckle, he stood back up and… nothing. He did nothing because despite the sudden pressing urge to do something there was nothing to do. So instead he growled and strode over to pound a fist onto his desk, making the glass beakers on it rattle as if in threat of breaking. He growled at them, barely resisting the urge to swipe them off the desk to shatter onto the floor.

He needed more Cells! … Well it was a good thing he knew where to go to get more.

***

After bursting through the door, Beheaded paused because Collector was back. He was standing there just as if he’d never left, his equipment operational and glowing with Cells once more. The fellow who’d taken his place was still there too. The two of them looked to have been having a conversation that Beheaded’s arrival had interrupted as they both looked over at them.

“Hello,” Not Collector said, their voice even cheerier than usual. Yeah, they idolized Collector or something, didn’t they? Beheaded had never cared enough to pay attention nor would they start caring now.

So ignoring them, Beheaded strode up to the Collector. They pointed at him and then gestured around before lifting their arms in an exaggerated shrug to make it a question. They’d assumed he’d died but apparently not. So where had he disappeared off to and more importantly why?

“Greetings. I apologize for my absence. However, I trust out little arrangement is still in place.” His voice sounded almost a little… strained? There was certainly a different energy to it than before. Something had changed. What though?

Out of spite and sudden renewed distrust, Beheaded was tempted to refuse and keep the Cells for themself. With Collector being even more suspicious than usual, giving him what he wanted might not be a good idea. Though… they’d never trusted him much to begin with so not a whole lot had really changed, huh? And they had literally no use for the Cells and thus had no real reason to want to keep them on top of the fact that if they ever came across another blueprint, his services in making it for them would be welcome. They could’ve possibly given them to Not Collector but doing so would’ve most likely been just a roundabout way of giving them to Collector. So with one last warning finger shake, Beheaded handed their Cells over.

“Thank you.”

Even if Beheaded were capable of replying they wouldn’t have bothered as they moved on, resuming their quest. It was still early but they had a good feeling about this attempt. They were going to see what was on the other side of that door behind the Hand of the King for sure this time. … Hopefully anyway. Really just reaching the damn castle again would be an achievement at this point. But they were for sure going to get through the door eventually and whatever was on the other side better be worth all this pain and effort.

Many, many failed attempts later. Long enough for Beheaded to hand over enough Cells for Collector to make enough panacea to cure the Malaise entirely

The relief Beheaded felt at finally making it through High Peak Castle was dashed almost as soon as they were entering into the passage because now they’d have to fight the Hand of the King. They hadn’t even so much as seen him in so long and had never been great at handling him and they’d been royally sliced to bits in the castle. Leaving them with an empty potion flask and far more damage to their body than they were comfortable with. Unless a miracle occurred, they were going to fail against the Hand. A shame but… at least they’d made it this far, pushing the bar just that little bit more. Perhaps next time they’d fare well enough to stand a chance though. … Not likely. Eventually though they would… eventually.

As always they went to Collector, giving him all their Cells without a word from him. But as they turned away to head for their ‘death’, he spoke. “I must thank you for your assistance.”

They paused and turned to look back up at him.

“The Cells you’ve brought me have been invaluable in my experiments. To thank you let me assist you in your endeavors again.” He pulled out a vial filled with an orange liquid; a health potion.

It was very possible this was a trap or trick of some sort but if it somehow wasn’t, it was their only hope of beating the Hand of the King, even if it wasn’t a large hope, and at least seeing what was behind that door. In the worst-case scenario, they could always detach from their current body and slink off to find another, as they’d have been doomed to do very shortly anyway. So as he extended the vial towards them, they snatched it out of his hand and tipped it back.

As their form absorbed its contents magic rushed through all their tendrils throughout the body, repairing the damage that had been done to it in a flood of pleasant warmth. Dropping the vial, they looked up at Collector again to give him a thumbs up and a nod before heading off, reenergized and ready to take on the Hand of the King.

Except they took only two steps in that direction before darkness encroached on their vision. Their control of the body faltered, making them tip and fall to their hands and knees and then even that was too much as they flopped over onto their side. Of fucking course it had been too good to be true.

“Sorry friend.” Collector maybe even did sound a little apologetic. “But I need you out of the way for a while. You will come to no harm though, I promise.”

Beheaded wanted to lift a hand to flip him off but unconsciousness dragged at them, pulling them down towards nothingness despite their best efforts to fight it. When they woke up though, they were so going to…

~~~

They were lying on a bed, a soft one too with a blanket thrown over them. The ceiling above them was nothing special but as they stiffly rolled over to look at the room, they recognized it. The room in High Peak Castle with all the beds. They were on the one closest to the door.

Exhaustion had driven them to taking naps in all sorts of strange and dangerous locations but they’d never felt even tempted to take one in this room. It was too dangerous and too close to their end goal for them to feel even remotely capable of relaxing here. So how come they were waking up here? … Collector! He betrayed them with a drugged healing potion.

They threw off the blanket and rolled out of bed, moving with far less grace and precision then they should’ve. Whatever they’d been drugged with hadn’t completely worn off yet. It was affecting their control of the body which made them angrier. As soon as they found Collector, he was going to get a piece of their mind.

As they made their awkward way towards they door they reached for where their crossbow should’ve been hanging on their back. Of course it wasn’t there, else how would they have been lying so comfortably on the bed? A quick check revealed it wasn’t anywhere else on their person either. A look back confirmed it wasn’t lain out near the bed or anywhere else in sight. All their other gear was missing as well. Leaving in them in the middle of one of the most dangerous places on the island without a single way to defend themself.

What was Collector even trying to accomplish with this stunt? They’d just ‘die’ and head back to get a new body and come hunt him down. Maybe they shouldn’t even try to fight; just abandon this body here and head off for that new attempt now. … But no, if possible they wanted to know what was up here sooner rather than later. And who knows, they might get lucky and find a weapon or two nearby.

So shaking themself a little they continued onward out the door and into the castle hallway. They were in luck, it was empty. Perhaps all the monsters they’d cleared out on their way through earlier were still gone. The time loop hadn’t brought them back yet or no new ones had come or whatever else happened that normally brought them back hadn’t happened yet. It was long shot but they could hope.

As they made their way through the castle, they became more and more sure that was the case. The halls were empty. There were blood splatters here and there and chopped up monster remains but that’s it. Which was nice, given their lack of weapon and the fading lethargy from the sleeping drug but… strange. Something was different here. … Beheaded didn’t like whatever it was.

Having even just a rusty sword and a barely functional shield would’ve made them feel quite a bit better about this situation. If they could find even a single enemy maybe they could steal its weapon? A hard feat for sure but better than trying to fight with just their hands and feet. Though if push came to shove, they’d gladly just punch Collector in the face. Not that trying that was likely to work out in their favor. Anyone who could move around the island as much as he did, had to be quite good at one form of combat or another and thus not someone to be taken lightly. If they took him by surprise though perhaps they could get away with a solid hit or two before he stopped them. He deserved nothing less for tricking them and…

They paused as they came upon a large door they’d never seen before. Which honestly wasn’t too surprising, they’d explored the castle far less than the rest of the island – other than the distillery anyway because fuck that place, they’d rather not have to deal with barrels exploding in their face every time they turned a corner. Other than its slightly larger than normal size though there wasn’t much special about the door. So with nothing better to do, they kicked it open and were met with the loud satisfying crunch of wood cracking as it swung around and slammed into the wall.

Inside was… the Hand of the King! What was he doing inside the castle!? This was no fair! They didn’t even have a weapon. Oh, they were so fucked! But wait even though he’d snapped around to face them he was unarmed! His lance leaned against the wall nearby. Beheaded sprang for it. Defeating him with his own lance would be so sweet! What better vengeance for all the times he’d ruined their day?

Their hand was within inches of its hilt when the Hand caught them by their forearm. He yanked them rough back and around, twisting their arm to force them to face him as he pulled them up so they could barely stand on their tippytoes.

Welp, they’d tried, got to give them credit for that, right? They tensed, prepared for the pain of being sliced or speared through or perhaps he would just tighten his already painful grip and crush the bones in their arm and then go through break all their other bones too. So they should probably just detach from the body now and…

“Well, you certainly know how to make an entrance.” Collector stood at the Hand’s side, looking down at them. “Always kicking and rolling through doors. However, given your obvious goal just now, I must warn you if you insist on remaining violent, I have a glass jar in my lab that would be the perfect place to securely contain a specimen such as you. Understand?”

Would a glass jar be able to effectively contain them? … Depends on how tight the seal on it was. And on how tough the glass was. Both of which Collector could probably easily ensure were more than strong enough for the task. Also, he no doubt could find a way to prevent them from pushing it off the table or whatever too. So such a threat was actually threatening and given Beheaded’s less than ideal position of being weaponless and held firmly by the Hand, it probably wasn’t a good idea to risk it right now. So… they nodded, even lifting their free hand to give a halfhearted thumbs up.

“Very good,” Collector said with a nod.

The Hand didn’t let go of them yet though. Instead, he tightened his grip a little before speaking. “The Alchemist told me what you are and where you came from. Perhaps if I had known before, I wouldn’t have attacked you immediately.” There were certainly instances were that would’ve been nice and would’ve resulted in far less pain and failure. Overall though it would’ve been less fun. “It’s too late for that now though. You killed what was left of the real King. I’d snap you in half for that but the Alchemist has asked me not to so I shall refrain… for now.” With that, he let go of their arm at last.

They stumbled, barely keeping themself from falling. They shook it off, backstepping as they pulled their arm in. Putting them closer to the lance but… something had clearly changed.

Tearing their gaze from the Hand, they quickly scanned the rest of the room. It was a map room; a table with a model of presumably the whole island sat in the middle of the room, taking up most of the space. The blacksmith and his little backpacked buddies sat at the other end of it. Time Keeper was here too, standing on the other side of Collector. She was watching them intently but also seemed uninclined to attack them for some reason.

Even if they grabbed the lance or had any other weapon, they were at a huge disadvantage here if things went sour. Or more like if they went more sour since this was already quite an uncomfortable position to be in. Fleeing was an option but they needed to know what the fuck was happening.

“I’m sure you’re quite confused,” Collector said. “Long story short, using the Dead Cells you provided me, I managed to create a cure for the Malaise. So congrats, you are indirectly a hero. We are currently discussing what we should do next with so few people left alive.”

“And we’ve already decided,” Time Keeper added, glaring daggers at Beheaded, “that regardless of whether you are still technically the old King or not, you’re not getting the role back ever.”

Unable to return her mean look, Beheaded lifted a hand to flip her off instead - they should be able to be King again if they wanted to. But… it was halfhearted and quickly dropped because… was the Malaise really gone? Just out of nowhere like that? What did that mean for them? All they really knew was fighting the Malaise infected monsters. And… the time loop, that had to be over now too, right? So what was going to happen next?

And they’d never reached their goal! They’d been going to defeat the Hand of the King and then go through the five Boss Cell door and then probably fight whatever was on the other side. They’d been pushing for that for so long and now all that was just over? That was so unfair!

Their whole life was over, wasn’t it? Because the run through of the island, killing all the monsters was all they’d ever really done. With the time loop happening they’d blindly assumed it’s all they’d ever do. What were they suppose do now?

“… don’t even need a new King,” Time Keeper was saying as Beheaded tuned back into the conversation. It had apparently resumed while they’d been reeling.

They didn’t really care though. And it’s not like they could contribute to the conversation or anyone would welcome it if they tried so… they turned and left. No one tried to call them back.

The Malaise being cured and presumably eradicated from the island made the strange emptiness of the halls as they strode through them make much more sense. It made traversing them a lot less exciting and a non-accomplishment. But… getting sliced to bits, stabbed, exploded and all sorts of other things did hurt quite a bit so this development wasn’t all bad. That didn’t make it any less aggravating that it hadn’t happened on their terms as it should’ve. Nor did it make the idea of finding another way to entertain themself any easier.

They paused as they finally found the outdoor throne room. The fire that had been around the throne had finally been put out or had been allowed to peter out on its own. They continued on, going past it and beelining for the little room behind the fountain. Even if the glory and achievement of reaching it the way they’d intended had been stolen from them they were still going to see what was behind that door.

It was already open and hanging ajar as they approached. They kicked it the rest of the way open, making it slam loudly into the wall. Doing so provided nowhere near as much satisfaction as reaching it after defeating the Hand would’ve but it was still better than just pushing it open.

And on the other side was… a small room and an elevator. The elevator went up a long, its chains rattling loudly the whole. At top was another safe passage room. On the other side was… a lab. No monsters though, nor the sound of any nearby. There probably had been though, right? Before Collector cured the Malaise and fixed everything. It would’ve been nice to see some new enemies even if said new monsters probably would’ve quickly destroyed their body. But no, all that was over and now… What were they supposed to do next? … Even if they’d had any real interest in returning to their prior existence’s role as King, they wouldn’t be allowed to. Leaving them to do… what? …

Shaking off those thoughts once more, they continued on to explore more. Much of the equipment was now broken shards of glass and debris on the ground. Despite that, it didn’t take long to determined that the lab had clearly belonged to Collector before it had been taken over by monsters. Which no doubt was cause of the destruction.

Way up at the top of the tallest tower was a large room that seemed to be the only part still functioning as a lab. Amongst other smaller equipment stood a large cylindrical machine with a lot of weird parts coming off it and a spout on the front as if to dispense something. Its inside still had a glimmer of blue something coating them. Undoubtedly this was where Collector had concocted the cure, using all the Dead Cells Beheaded had gathered and given to him.

With an internal sigh, they walked over and turned around sit on the ground and lean back against the machine. What would have happened if they’d reached this place before Collector fixed everything? Probably something interesting, right? They would never know for sure though. It could’ve also been boring, just Collector finally telling them what he’d been working on all this time.

Which if they had known what he was using the Dead Cells for they probably would’ve continued giving them to him. Though if they had known they could’ve demanded their right to finish their self-assigned task before he did his thing, cutting off the supply entirely if need be.

Even as it was though, he surely could’ve waited just a few more attempts, right? However many it took for Beheaded to reach this point on their own. Which to be fair probably would’ve been a lot given how prone they were to getting their ass handed to them. But with the time loop happening, it wouldn’t have changed anything. He could’ve waited.

It was too late now though and probably no going back. They had no choice but to move on and figure out what they were going to do next. Maybe they could leave the island and head off in search of another adventure. Or maybe they should try to return to their former life and insist on being King. Perhaps they should do something else entirely. … Ugh, making important decisions sucked. They had to though… eventually. For now though they were going to just sit here be bitter about their victory being stolen from them.

#my writing #dead cells #the beheaded #the prisoner #the collector #the hand of the king

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gallavictorious · 3 years

Text

I was delighted to be tagged by Our Lady of Words and Joy @howlinchickhowl Cheers, dear!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Earlier today it was 40. Now it’s 39. WHAT GIVES? Did someone eat a story? Which one? I am so confused.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

137 098. At least that hasn’t changed...

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Highs, and Your Lows (i will weather them)

This Time (We'll Be Fine)

Teenage Tales

To Keep Your Gentle Heart

Captive Look

Huh. Would you look at that. All Gallavich stuff!

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Eh. Well. Listen, I always want and mean to respond to comments, because as a commenter I always love a response from the author, but I am procrastinator supreme so a lot of the time I just... don't. Not for a great long while at least. Then, two years AFTER you left a comment, you might get an e-mail notification about me responding. It's horrible, really, because I keep the comments in my heart and treasure them so much and the lovely people taking the time to leave a few words on my silly stories really do deserve better.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Life, Still to Come has the one main character Jim Moriarty killing himself and his lover Sebastian Moran after he's diagnosed with incurable brain cancer, so I guess that's pretty angsty? The tone of the fic, however, is... kinda soft and peaceful, really. It doesn't feel so very sad, I think.

For Gallavich, I've got Chapter 7 of my ficlet collection Highs, and Your Lows (i will weather them). It's an Wild West AU kind of deal, where Ian Gallagher is visited by the ghost of the young fiend Mickey Milkovich after his dad beats him to death. That one is sad, but there's the glimmer of a promise that they might meet again one day, in a better world.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

My fics mostly end on a happy note, and I have a hard time pinning down which is the happiest. Hm. I'm gonna say Pressure or possibly Foreign Country, if only because the happy endings there are offered in contrast to the otherwise angsty story and so seems all the happier for it.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I have, once. Well, started one, really. Notes Regarding the End of the World is a crossover between Sherlock BBC and Mark Lawrence's The Broken Empire trilogy. I still feel there's a bunch of potential there, but I'm very hesitant I'll ever finish it.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not to my recollection, no. Back when I posted my SW fic on the Jedi Council forums you might receive critical comments at times, but no hate.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Not really, no. I'm not very interested in reading it, and so see very little point in writing it. There's been a few semi-explicit depictions of sexual acts – most notably in Claim – and I'm not averse to writing kink fic, even if they don't typically include actual sex when I do. For instance, I did The Ways We Bend and Break and Mend for X-Men, and the whole point was Charles first whipping Erik and then cuddling him – except in the end it turned into a character study with lots of emotions, and I think any attempts to write smut would be like that for me. Accidental character drama. XD

I might have a Gallavich thing for kinktober that is likely to be pretty explicit and kinda messed up. We'll see.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so. There have been a few instances of stuff popping up bearing a strong resemblance to things I've written, but there's also been times when I realize that things I have written bear a (very much unintentional) strong resemblance to other stuff that predates them, so I really think that's the nature of the beast. In any big fandom, the same ideas are likely to occur to multiple people, and we are all, often unconsciously, inspired by the same things and by each other.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yeah, to Chinese and Russian.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! Pathoftheranger and I co-wrote (How to Break the) Alibi Armistice, which was fun!

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I'm a creature of ever-changing affections, so I'm not so good with ”all-time favourite” and to be honest, I mostly tend to have favourite characters and ship them with everything in sight... Currently it's all about Gallavich but pretty much all ships including Jim Moriarty is forever gold to me (though MorMor is The Best. Or is it Sheriarty? Or maybe Mormorlock? Or Moriadlock? Or Johmlock – notice the 'm'?). Cherik's a big one too!

Ask me again in six months and my answer might well have changed!

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

The aforementioned Notes Regarding the End of the World. And I have this superlong Star Wars fic I started writing when I was 16 and wrote for years and years and then just... stopped writing, when I was maybe 20 pages from the end? It's currently at 180k words. This one I DO have some hope that I will go back and finish one day, although it's likely to be a jarring experience since I'm very much not 16 years old any more and my ideas about writing and the characters and everything have shifted quite a bit.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I do pretty well with the short format, I think. And with dialogue? Finding the voice of the characters (some more than others, certainly). Writing in my native Swedish, I think I'm pretty good at offering decent prose – I'd like to think I have a fairly developed ear for the flow of the text, and the melody of it? But when writing in English, that gets quite a bit harder. This really annoys me, because I'm rather preoccupied with the stylish elements of writing – though I've found that a lot of people seem happy enough to overlook clunky writing as long as they find the story otherwise engaging, which is a huge blessing for me. I believe I can build a decent plot, but since I can't write anyting longer than a few K these days there's no telling, is there?

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Primarily getting any writing done at all. Mostly, I stare at a blank page and despair and then I give up. This is why I no longer write long fic. I also tend to reuse favorite phrases or themes far too often. And there are so many subclauses... Proofreading happens to other people (I'd like it to happen to me too, but I'm terrible with it). I'm not good at accepting constructive criticism, even when I ask for it. I will often favour style over efficiency, and I'll stubbornly refuse to admit that this can be a problem.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

This question makes me feel like I ought to have developed thoughts on this, but I don't so much... I don't mind it? I've used it. Uh. It's a good idea to do a bit of research and not just rely on Google translate for it? If you don't like it, don't use it. Those are my thoughts.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Star Wars. <3

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

Buffy/Angel/Spike. The Book of All Hours. Heroes. Maybe something based on The Coldfire Trilogy... ? Oh, and the Bible. I'm sure there are others.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I really don't have one. There are a few I'm particularly happy with, but no one that truly stands out... That said, I was quite chuffed with how the first ficlet in Or Else Into the Light, my (tiny) collection of Anakin redemption one-shots, turned out. And Claim. I’m very pleased with Claim.

Tagging @dreamylyfe-x @fiona-fififi @pathoftheranger @abundanceofnots and @captainjowl

#tag games

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theydontknowaboutusimagines · 3 years

Text

This Christmas - A Harry Styles Christmas Series (Part 10)

Two life long friends. Secretly in love. Home for the holidays. Will they risk everything by telling the other how they feel? Or will they spend another year loving from afar?

Read these first Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Once again, you woke up next to Harry, this time in the little writing hut. When you and the girl’s came home from your mother’s, Harry snuck out to see you. Harry was laying on his back currently and you smiled over at him. You planted a kiss to his forehead before climbing over him and off the bed.

As much as you wanted to stay in bed and cuddle with him, you had a lot to do. You had to finish the final chapter of your book and go do your last minute Christmas shopping. You pretty much had everything for everyone, but you needed to get Harry something. You two didn’t exactly discuss exchanging presents, but this was technically your first Christmas together, even though you weren’t really together.

Speaking of which, you two probably needed to have that conversation because you were more than ready to take that step. You knew there were things up ahead that you two would have to worry about, but you would face them whenever they arose. You made yourself a cup of coffee and sat down at your desk, opening your computer and getting to work.

Harry woke up to the smell of coffee and the sound of fingers tapping on a keyboard. He rolled over seeing you sipping a cup of coffee while typing away. He smiled watching you do what you loved and how focused you were on your writing. In that moment, he felt himself falling even more in love with you.

After a few minutes, he got off the bed, pouring himself some coffee before walking over to you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss on your head.

“Hm, morning,” you smiled up at him.

“Morning,” he smiled, planting a kiss on your lips.

“Sooo, guess what,” you said.

“What?” He asked.

“I’m almost finished,” you smiled. “I have like a few hundred more words and I’m done!”

“Does that mean we get to spend all day together?” He asked.

“Actually,” you said. “I have to go do some Christmas shopping.”

“Still procrastinating I see,” he smirked.

“Oh hush!” You laughed. “I only have to get a few things. I may not be gone all day.”

“Can I come?” He asked.

“I’d love for you to come, but no,” you said.

“Ooh, are you getting a present for me?” He smirked.

“Perhaps,” you said.

“Can’t wait for that,” he said. “So, tonight’s your last night here, right? Before heading to your Mum’s?”

“It is,” you nodded. “Which is why I really wanted this book to be finished. I feel bad not spending more time with her, you know.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “How did last night go?”

“It was fun. We drank wine and hot chocolate. Mum made cookies and we watched cheesy Christmas romance movies and just had some girl talk,” you said.

“Were we any of the topics of conversation?” He asked.

“Of course,” you laughed.

“Oh god,” he laughed, shaking his head.

“It actually wasn’t that bad,” you said. “They mostly talked about their support for whatever we decide to do and I quote they’re happy we finally came to our fucking senses.”

He laughed, “Let me guess, Gem?”

“No, my mother,” you laughed.

He laughed, “Well, I agree with her.”

“Me too,” you smiled.

“So, since tonight’s your last night, I want us to spend it together,” he said.

“It’s not like I’m going away,” you giggled. “And we’re going to be back over for Christmas.”

“I know,” he said. “But I want us to have a little Christmas moment for ourselves.”

“I think I can fit that in my schedule,” you said, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“You better,” he smiled. “I guess I should let you get back to writing, now, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you sighed, dramatically.

He smiled giving you a quick peck on your lips, “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Okay,” you smiled. “I’ll see you later?”

He nodded giving you one last hug before walking out and letting you get back to your writing.

Later that day, Harry was out in the garage looking through the many boxes of leftover Christmas decorations.

“How does she have this many decorations still?” He mumbled to himself as he pulled out extra lights and garland.

“Uh, what are you doing?” Gemma asked, crossing her arms.

“I’m on a mission,” he said.

“And it involves Christmas decorations?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Yes it does,” he said. “It’s part of Y/N’s Christmas present.”

“Please tell me you’re not giving her old Christmas decorations,” she begged.

Harry rolled his eyes, “Of course not. I’m just setting the scene.”

“What’s the plan here?” She asked.

“Why are you so nosey?” He groaned.

“Because I want to make sure your plan isn’t shit,” she said.

“I love your faith in me,” Harry scoffed. “But if you must know… I was going to deck out the guest house with Christmas lights and other decorations. I’m going to order takeaway and have it all set up for when she gets home. And we’re going to have our own little Christmas together… and since you’re going to ask anyway… I was going to see if we could make things official,” he blushed.

“That’s actually really adorable!” she smiled. “You knew you had it in you.”

“When are you going back to London?” He joked.

She rolled her eyes, “So, besides asking her to be your girlfriend, what else did you get her?”

“Some stuff… but I also thought it would be nice to take her on a little holiday if she has the time for New Year’s,” he said. “I think it would be beneficial for us to have some quality alone time.”

“And on that note, I’m done asking questions,” she joked. “But if you need any help setting up, I’m happy to help.”

“Then grab a box and let’s get to work,” he smirked.

You walked around in all the shops still unsure of what to get Harry. You knew he would be happy with anything, but it was hard finding something the man doesn’t already have. So, that’s when you knew you would have to get a gift that was a little more sentimental. You went to a nearby store with crafting items and got all the supplies you needed before heading to your parent’s house.

When you got there, you went into your old bedroom and started pulling out old boxes with pictures, letters, and other little random items from your childhood. You searched through finding everything that represented your and Harry’s friendship over the years. You made a little scrapbook of the photos and added in little stories of the memories. You also included the years you two weren’t really speaking.

All the articles, pictures, and achievements he experienced over the years and you followed. When the book was finished, you wrapped it up in a box and took the other, empty scrapbook you purchased. You decorated the front of it and the first page, leaving the rest of them blank.

You knew this was cheesy and he would probably tease you, but this was from the heart and you were really proud of it. Once you wrapped everything else up, it was later that afternoon. You knew you needed to head back, but you needed to make one last stop.

Harry put the final touches on his surprise thanks to the help of his sister and mother. Now that it was getting closer, he noticed his hands were shaking. He wanted the night to go perfectly and really wanted this romantic gesture to go well.

“Everything’s going to work out fine,” Gemma said. “Stop worrying.”

“I know, but I’m nervous,” he said.

“Why? It’s Y/N,” she said.

“That’s the point,” he whispered. “I’ve thought about this night for a while and the fact it’s finally happening… I just want it to be perfect.”

“It will be,” she said. “Unless she says no…”

“Really, Gem?” He groaned.

“Sorry, sorry,” she laughed. “I’m gonna head back to the house and grab Mum. I figured you two need some alone time.”

“You can stay in the house,” he rolled his eyes.

“No, no, it’s fine,” she said. “Oh before I go… Mum wanted me to leave this with you.”

Harry held out his hand where Gemma placed a perfectly wrapped box in his hand.

“Please, tell me this isn’t what I think it is,” he winced.

“Ew, she wouldn’t,” she groaned. “Mum’s a cool mum, but she’s not a mean girl’s Mum. Besides it’s for Y/N.”

“Well, I’ll make sure she gets it,” he laughed.

When you arrived back at Anne’s house, you brought the gifts in with you and you noticed that Anne and Gemma were gone.

“Hello? Harry?” You called out, walking into the house.

You saw a bouquet of flowers sitting on the kitchen counter with an envelope with your name written on it. You put the boxes down to open the envelope, where you saw a letter from Harry.

“Happy Christmas! It’s time for your special Christmas surprise. Meet me in the guesthouse.”

You smiled taking the boxes and heading out to the guest house. When you opened the door, all you could see was the bright colored christmas lights lighting up the room. There were decorations everywhere and it literally looked like a Christmas department store threw up, but it was perfect. Harry stood in the middle of the room and you let out giggle seeing him wearing an ugly Christmas sweater.

“You did all of this?” You smiled.

“With a little bit of help,” he smiled. “What do you think?”

“It’s perfect,” you smiled, walking over to him.

You wrapped your arms around his waist when something dawned on you, “Wait a minute… You… this is a scene in my book! You read it. How the fuck did you read it?”

“Don’t be mad!” He said, quickly. “I may have snuck in and read a little bit. I remembered how you talked about your writing and your stories being a reflection of what you wanted, so I thought I’d try and recreate a little something.”

“That’s really… sweet,” you smiled. “I’m still mad you read it, but I can forgive you.”

He smiled leaning down to kiss you, “Oh, and we’ve got dinner from our favorite restaurant and tonight is all about us.”

“Sounds perfect,” you smiled.

After the two of you ate dinner, you decided on exchanging gifts.

“You first,” Harry said.

“No, you first,” you said.

“How about this? We take turns. I open one, you open one and we keep going,” he said.

“Fine,” you said. “That works, but you’re still going first.”

He rolled his eyes, taking one of the boxes from you, “Okay, okay,” he said.

You smiled nervously as you watched him open the first one. He ripped off the paper, revealing a heavy envelope. He took out a stack of papers and looked over at you.

“It’s uh… my book,” you told him. “I’ve already sent it to my agent and editor, but I wanted you to be the first one to really read it. It’s not great, yet because it’s just the first draft, but I really and truly believe that you and being with you here inspired everything in there. Just like with everything I’ve ever done, you’ve been the inspiration behind it.”

“Wow,” he whispered. “Thank you. This… this means a lot.”

“You’re welcome,” you smiled.

“Now, it’s your turn,” he said, handing you a present.

It was another envelope and you opened it revealing a pair of plane tickets… well, fake plane tickets.

“Um…” you laughed, showing him.

“Okay, let me explain,” he said. “I want to take us on a little holiday for New Year’s wherever you want to go. I didn’t know if you’d want to go or where you’d want to go, so I haven’t made any arrangements yet.”

“Really?” you smiled.

“Yes, really,” he smiled. “I want to spend more time with you… alone.”

“Oh, do you now?” You raised an eyebrow.

He rolled his eyes before taking another box and unwrapping the next box. He took out the scrapbook, looking over at you, suspiciously. Opening it up, he smiled looking at all the pictures and memories from throughout your childhood. He laughed a bit and kept flipping through the pages before coming across the last few years.

“Wow, you kept these things?” He asked.

“Of course,” you smiled. “Yeah, we weren’t talking, but you were still important to me. I was proud of you… I am proud of you.”

“Thank you,” he smiled. “I love this.”

“You’re welcome, I know it’s a little cheesy, but I thought it would be nice,” you blushed.

“It’s perfect,” he smiled, kissing your cheek.

Now, it was time for your last gift from Harry. It was a small box making you curious as to what was inside. You unwrapped it and pulled the top off seeing a wooden heart ornament inside. But there was also an engravement.

‘Will you be my girlfriend?’

“W-What?” You whispered. “Wow.”

You looked over at Harry, his hands were shaking, as he looked back at you.

“I know we both agreed on taking things slow,” he whispered. “But I know you’re it for me Y/N. You always have been. These past few days have been amazing and I think I’ve fallen even more in love with you. I know we still need to work on and figure out things, but I know we can still be together because as long as I have you by my side we can do anything.”

“I-I wow,” you whispered, sitting speechless.

You felt slightly like you were being overdramatic at that moment. It wasn’t like he was proposing to you, but it felt so surreal, something you’ve always wanted finally coming true.

“Open your gift,” you answered.

“Wait? What?” He asked.

“Just do it,” you said, quickly.

Shock and disappointment ran through him that you didn’t answer his question. He tore at the wrapping paper, revealing another scrapbook. One that was empty except for the first page.

“Our past is filled with good memories and bad. But now it’s time for us to make new memories together.

Will you be my boyfriend?”

“Oh my god, we’re the cheesy fucking couple ever,” he laughed.

You giggled moving over to sit on his lap, “Yeah, we are, but it works for us. So, what do you say?”

“Well, I don’t know, what do you say?” he smirked.

“How about we both give our answer on the count of three?” You suggested.

“That works,” he said.

“Okay, 1...2...3,” you said.

“Yes!” you both smiled before sealing it with a kiss.

Next part will be uploaded tomorrow! :)

Sooo... since they’ll be going on a little holiday for New Year’s... should I do a companion series? Maybe like a 5 parter?

#Harry Styles imagines #Harry Styles Fanfiction #Harry Styles Fanfictions #Harry Styles Fan fics #Harry Styles Fanfic #Harry Styles Christmas Series

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bastardtetsu · 4 years

Text

critical thinking | ch③

pairing: kuroo tetsuro x gn!reader

genre: college au, enemies to lovers, tsundere!reader, slow burn

wc: 2.3k

warnings: swearing, being a theatre major

※ mlist | ① ② ● ④

there is no greater hell than finals week as a college theatre major.

and this year, on top of juries to prep for, studio scenes & dance combos to rehearse, essays to write, exams to study for, and rehearsals to attend for the show you’re in, your chemistry teacher decided to assign a final project in addition to the final exam. rejoice.

it was enough trying to study for the written final while staying on top of all your other assignments and obligations - you’d busted your ass so hard leading up to the exam that you hardly had time to think about the project until a week before its due date. and even when you do start thinking about it, you barely understand what you’re supposed to be doing, much less have the time or energy to try and figure it out.

you end up texting kuroo in desperation and make him agree to meet up with you for an extra tutoring session, however, due to your extra-chaotic schedule this week, the only time you’re both able to meet up is after your all-day rehearsal the sunday night before the project is due.

it’s better than nothing, you suppose.

still, you don’t fully realize the consequences of your choices until you’re exhausted on your way back from your second consecutive day of 12-hour tech rehearsals - a pretty standard tech week schedule in the professional theatre world, but not very convenient for a college student during finals.

needless to say, you’re dead tired. the last thing you want is to fry your brain even further with chemistry & kuroo’s smart mouth, but at this point you have no choice.

as you approach him in the library, you notice he’s dressed way more casually than usual. this shouldn’t come as a shock, seeing that it’s 11pm on a sunday, but the way his t-shirt and sweatpants accentuate his figure is actually insulting. somehow the way the fabric stretches around his pecs makes his chest look even broader, and christ you were not expecting his arms to be THAT toned.

NOPE. now is not the time, you remind yourself. you have a project due in ten hours. you can feel a headache coming on as your stress levels rise again.

“evening,” he greets you with a smile.

“hey,” you respond shortly as you set your stuff down, “thanks for meeting with me this late.”

“of course,” he replies, “anything for my favorite student.”

“…are you being sarcastic?”

“no.”

“i’m your favorite?” you question skeptically. “jesus, who else are you tutoring…”

“well I didn’t say you were my best student—“

“cool, i’m gonna stop you there.”

he just giggles. asshole.

you let out a fatigued sigh as you plop down in your chair. this feels like your first moment of rest all day, but in reality it’s just the start of the most difficult battle of them all. you attempt to gather up the remnants of your brainpower, silently praying that kuroo will decide to behave himself.

“you don’t seem like you’re in the mood for chemistry tonight.”

some prayers must go unanswered.

“yeah, i’ve had a long day,” you reply unenthusiastically, “so i’d really like to get this done as quickly as possible.”

“really? that’s gonna be difficult in your condition,” he jeers.

“well i don’t have much choice, do i?” you snap back a bit too aggressively.

“guess not,” he shrugs nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair with his hands resting behind his head. what is with this attitude? is he really just being a dick right now? and WHY do his arms look so god damn tasty??

you can already feel your sanity slipping away as you try to will yourself to focus on anything that’s not kuroo’s juicy biceps flexing through the fabric of his t-shirt. or his chest. or the little strip of exposed skin that’s appeared just below the hem of his shirt - fuck.

focus, you instruct yourself. your brain, however, is already giving out, the stress of not just the day, but the whole week finally catching up to you. the possibility of having something passable to turn in by tomorrow morning seems further and further away.

“look,” you sigh, leveling with him, “we both know i’m awful at chem—“

“really??”

“shut up,” you cut him off quickly, “and i’ve had a long ass week dealing with all this other shit on my plate and i’m really fucking tired and i just want to get a good grade on this so i can graduate, so can you please, PLEASE just—“

“if you’re gonna ask me to do the assignment for you, I already did it.”

a pause.

“wait. what do you mean-“

“i did the assignment for you. project’s done.”

“um,” you stutter, dumbfounded. “excuse me?”

“what, you thought i was gonna let you do it yourself? after you procrastinated it til the literal night before?” he says with an especially wide grin, “it would be irresponsible for me as a tutor if I let my student do so poorly! granted, she’s really bad at this—“

“ok shut up,” you cut him off. your mind is swirling with a mixture of shock, gratitude, and rage as you process his words. “when did you—“

“this week. after you texted me.”

“what?” you cry, “why are we even meeting up then?”

“i dunno,” he responds with a coy smirk, “it would’ve been rude to cancel.”

the swell of gratitude in your chest is overtaken by the growing wave of rage.

“so you decided to waste *more* of my time,” you state pointedly, “when you literally have enough to do an entire final project just for funsies. cool.”

“hey, show a little more gratitude,” he whines, quirking an eyebrow in annoyance, “you’re the one who left it til the last minute.”

“i’m the one?” you shoot back, “you still think i’m just procrastinating because i’m lazy??”

“look, i know finals are demanding—“

“no, I don’t think you do know,” you cut him off, now fuming. “you want a rundown of my week? i can give it to you.” you list off all the assignments you had to turn in, all the finals you had to prep for - both written and performance, all the meetings with scene partners and voice teachers and rehearsal pianists you had to arrange, all the hours you had to spend in rehearsal, including the 12-hour tech day you just came from. kuroo just sits there, taking in your words. when you finish, you let out an exhausted sigh, “so if you’d like to tell me when the fuck i was supposed to work on this stupid project, be my guest. i’d love to hear it.”

this might be the first time you’ve seen kuroo look shocked. for once he doesn’t seem to know what to say. is that a trace of guilt in his eyes too?

“i—“ just as he’s about to speak, he is cut off by an unholy sound coming from your stomach. you both sit there frozen for a second.

“um… when was the last time you ate?” he asks, cautiously breaking the silence.

“uhh,” you think back, “like 3pm.”

“okay, well it’s past 11 now,” he says, “and you need to eat. get your stuff, let’s go.”

“huh? go where?”

“to get food,” he states simply, “i’m driving, come on.”

“kuroo,” you protest, “i’m not gonna make you drive me—“

“you’re not making me,” he interrupts, “i’m making you. let’s go.”

you let out a sigh of defeat and grab your bag. with the rage beginning to melt away, that swell of gratitude begins to stir in your chest again. it’s still weird when he’s kind to you, but you’re starting to mind less.

—

you hadn’t realized how hungry you truly were until the smell of oil and salt hits you.

after grabbing your food from the drive thru, kuroo pulls around and finds a spot in the near-empty parking lot. you waste no time scarfing down your food, which he even insisted on paying for. whatever, it’s just mcdonald’s, you think. but still, the gesture is nice.

“you didn’t have to do this you know.”

“i think i did,” he says, jokingly referring to how hard you were just stuffing your face.

“funny,” you respond sarcastically, “but seriously.”

“it’s no big deal,” he says, looking away slightly. is he blushing? you can’t tell in the dark. “anyway, i figured i owed you one for making you stress about the project.”

you can’t believe your ears - is he actually apologizing?

“yeah, you really let me suffer all week, asshole,” you respond teasingly.

“i didn’t know it was that bad, alright,” he says, slightly defensive. a brief pause, and then, “sorry.”

you can hear the remorse in his voice - he means it. the corners of your mouth twitch upward.

“thank you,” you say gently, “that means a lot.”

his gaze darts back over to you. you’ve never seen his eyes look nervous before, yet somehow his stare still feels piercing.

“you’re gonna have to buy me a lot more nuggets before i fully forgive you though,” you joke, breaking out your own devilish smirk. he chuckles too, relieved.

“how many are we talking?”

“as many as i want.”

“fine,” he relents, “guess you’ll have to hang out with me more then, if i’m gonna be buying you all these nuggets.”

“whatever, i’m immune to your bullshit by now.”

“oya~? you’re starting to like me, y/n??”

“is that what the fuck i said?”

“no, but it’s what you meant,” he responds with a smirk.

“and how would you know?”

“‘cause i’m a genius,” he says, reaching over to swipe a fry from your lap. you halfheartedly swat at him.

“sure, keep telling yourself that.”

your banter feels natural now, strangely comfortable. for some reason it actually feels good talking to him. he did do something really nice for you tonight after all, despite your continued bickering. no matter how much you insult him he always has something to say back. but as much as it pisses you off, you’re not sure what you’d do if he ever stopped.

—

as kuroo drives you back to your place for the night, your mind begins turning over the events of this evening. in the time since you’d met up with him (which somehow feels longer than the literal 12 hours of rehearsal you were in earlier), you’d not only found out that the final project you’d been so stressed about had been taken care of, but you also hung out with him for the first time outside of tutoring. and he was nice to you. it’s a lot to process.

it’s not like you aren’t used to spending time alone with kuroo - like you told him, you’re immune to his bullshit by now - but this feels different somehow. it’s more peaceful, maybe even comforting. you figure it’s probably because of the rollercoaster of a day you just had, not to mention how unusual it is for him to treat you like this.

“why are you being so nice to me?” you finally ask him, turning to steal a glance at his side profile in the dim glow of the streetlamps.

“huh?? i needed to make sure my student got their nutrients!” he replies, as if it was obvious.

“what nutrients? you took me to mcdonald’s.”

“okay fair,” he says, “but nothing else was open!”

“sure, but you didn’t need to take me anywhere,” you protest, “much less spend money on me.”

“maybe i’ll just cook for you next time then,” he smiles.

“next time!?” you squawk, “what, are you trying to get into my pants??” the words leave your mouth before you fully have time to process them, but either way, you aren’t expecting the sudden silence that falls over him.

a flash of anxiety darts through your mind, but it only lasts for a second before he laughs quitely, almost to himself.

“not if you don’t want me to,” he mutters.

your breath catches. is he joking?? your heart feels like it’s in your throat. he’s definitely joking.

“what are you cooking?” is the only thought you can manage to put to words.

another pause.

“um. probably fish.”

“EW, WHAT THE FUCK?”

“what???” he gripes, “you could use more docosahexaenoic acid!!!”

“you are such a freak.” you’re relieved that the subject has changed, even though his earlier response is still circling your mind.

“okay but can you tell me the chemical formula for docosahex—“

“no, you are not bringing chemistry into this car, absolutely not. i already took my final.”

“what about the molar mass—“

“NO.”

—

you arrive back at your place not long after. kuroo’s comment is still eating away at the back your mind, but you don’t say anything as you gather your belongings. it was a cop-out response, and he was probably joking anyway.

“thanks for everything,” you say gingerly, “the project, and the food, and the ride, and the help with the semester, all that.”

“anytime, princess,” he replies with his signature smirk. usually that kind of response would trigger a jolt of annoyance in you, but this time it feels different. maybe because now you’re actually grateful to him.

in fact, you’re very grateful, and you feel like you should be expressing it more, but you’re not sure how. plus you’re too embarrassed, and have way too much pride. so instead you wish him goodnight and head towards your front door.

he waits to drive off until you’re all the way inside.

you think about him a little differently after that.

a/n: why is he so obsessed with docosahexdhfafdjh acid.... making me have to google how to spell that shit smh. anyways thank you for all the love on this fic so far!! if u actually enjoy this self-indulgent fantasy of mine know that i love & appreciate u to the ends of the earth ;-;

#haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu #.txt #e writes

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delaixplaysgames · 3 years

Text

Gift Cards (Minagi Tsuzuru x Reader)

Ship: Minagi Tsuzuru/Reader

Rating: sfw (one swear word)

WC: 2,901 words

A/N: The second reader insert I’ve written and I’m still not good at it lol. But I’m having a fun time! I’m also the absolute worst at giving stories titles and ending stories. Apologies in advance!

You visited the school library very often. Everyone was too preoccupied with whatever they were doing (whether it was studying or procrastinating), so it was a good place to study and work on assignments. You recognized some faces that also visited frequently; some of them were in your classes and others just came so often that you knew their faces.

However, there was one specific person that always caught your eye. You didn’t have any classes with him, but he came to the library so often that his face became recognizable. Seeing the way he was so focused on his work was admirable. It was kind of cute to see his whole face light up when something started clicking in his head. And seeing him occasionally doze off a little while working was funny, too.

Long story short, he was extremely charming. He looked like the kind of person who really looks out for others. You wouldn’t be surprised if there were other people with crushes on him.

At some point, you started sitting in the same area as this university student. It’d be weird if you sat too close to him, so you’d always sit at a different table on the opposite side of him. That way, you could still steal glances of him diagonally and from far away. Was it a bit creepy? Yes. Did you still do it? Also yes.

You eventually found out that his name was “Tsuzuru” when two other men (both of them were extremely well built and just a bit intimidating) came across him in the library one day. You overheard them talking about Tsuzuru’s next script.

His next script? So he’s a playwright… Well, if he’s in this area, then does he write for a theatre troupe on Veludo Way?

After Tsuzuru packed up and left with his two friends, you discreetly looked up “Tsuzuru Veludo Way” on your phone. Surprisingly, you were able to find his name on the Mankai Company website, where you found out that Minagi Tsuzuru was both the personal playwright of the troupe and a member of their Spring Troupe as well.

You gently slammed your head on the table, trying to not make too loud of a noise. This was definitely starting to approach stalker territory.

Months of watching Tsuzuru from afar passed. You kept sitting in the same area as him in the library when you had the chance. You watched a few of Mankai Company’s plays, especially if Tsuzuru was one of the actors in the play. However, you still couldn’t work up the courage to just go up to him and initiate a conversation with your crush.

He was so immersed in his work in the library that it was hard to approach him. When you’d leave the Mankai Theater, you’d chicken out and run out of the theater before the actors come out to thank the guests for coming. You were fairly sure that he still hasn’t noticed your creepy behavior. As relieving as it sounds, it doesn’t erase the fact that it’s creepy. You were much too shy and nervous for your own good, but you knew that you had to take the initiative one day.

One early morning, on your way to your favorite area in the library, you found Tsuzuru completely asleep at his work area. You smile to yourself at the sight as you set your things down at a different table. This area wasn’t crowded at all. In fact, it was just the two of you so far. It must’ve been a perfect time for him to sneak a nap in.

It must be hard balancing writing scripts and school work… Plus, he probably has rehearsals with his troupe. Yikes, Minagi-san needs a coffee… coffee?

You reached into your backpack and grabbed your wallet. Inside your wallet was a gift card to a nearby coffee shop that you received from your aunt not too long ago. You haven’t used it at all and you figured that Tsuzuru needed this much more than you.

You grabbed a cute dandelion themed sticky note and pen from your backpack, wrote a message as neat as you possibly could, and stuck it onto the gift card. You get up from your seat again and nervously make your way towards Tsuzuru. You were mentally begging him to not wake up as you approached his little station and slowly slided the gift card on top of his laptop’s keyboard.

You sighed in relief, knowing that your mission was successful, and snuck another look at Tsuzuru’s sleeping face. He looked so peaceful and cozy with his head nested in his folded arms. You smiled again at the sight, sincerely hoping that he’ll enjoy the free coffees he could get from the gift card. Happy with the good deed you did, you turn back around to return to your seat.

And then you realized the flaw in your plan. There was no one but you and Tsuzuru in that area. If you stayed around and Tsuzuru woke up, then he would’ve figured out that it was you who left him the gift card. You quickly stuffed everything into your bag and dashed to a different part of the library.

“Tsuzuru? Hey, Tsuzuru?”

He felt someone shake his shoulder a bit and groggily blinked his eyes. He yawned a bit and looked over his shoulder to see who woke him up. “Huh? Oh, hey, Fushimi-san. Guess I must’ve dozed off.”

“You did another all-nighter to finish your paper last night, right? Are you alright?” Omi clearly looked concerned for his health.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I was reading some lecture notes and ...Huh?” When Tsuzuru went to gesture to his laptop screen, he noticed a gift card on his keyboard. The card had a pastel green sticky note with dandelion seeds blowing away from the flower at the bottom. “Where did this come from? Did you put this here, Fushimi-san?”

Omi shook his head. “Nope. I didn’t do that, but there’s a note on it. What does it say?”

“Let’s see… ‘You seemed a bit exhausted when I passed by and I think you need the caffeine more than I do! I hope this can keep you running through the day, but don’t forget to get a good night’s sleep!’” Tsuzuru flipped the card over and saw that it was a card for a coffee shop close to campus. “There’s no name on here, but wow, this is really nice of this person.”

Tsuzuru looked around the study area, but it was just him and Omi there. They must’ve come while he was asleep and before Omi woke him up. He really wished the person left a name or something; this person deserved a big thank you because he desperately needed the coffee.

“Maybe they just wanted to do a good deed for someone who needed it,” Omi suggested.

Tsuzuru scratched his head, still stuck on the idea of thanking the mystery person. He put the idea to rest for the time being and slipped the gift card and the note into his wallet. The gift card could get him at least five coffees from this shop. If this person was kindly giving him the money for coffee, then he better not waste it.

Ever since then, you got into a bit of a habit of leaving little gifts for Tsuzuru every once in a while. It’d only be at times he left his seat in the library or was asleep like he was before. Whenever you went to watch a Mankai Company play, you’d leave a little something in Tsuzuru’s gift bin. You doubted that he would even notice it, but you made sure to use dandelion-themed message cards or sticky notes when you wanted to leave a message.

You also made sure to leave the area as quick as you came. You were fine with just leaving him little presents once in a while and not being recognized for them. If you had the chance to see him find the gift, you felt enough satisfaction from seeing him smile. It felt like a good way to show how you felt for Tsuzuru while not being hindered by your shyness. Just knowing that he appreciated them was enough for you.

One Saturday night, you went to watch another great play at Mankai Company featuring Tsuzuru as one of the actors. It was always a treat to see him on the stage and see how his stories unfold. Whoever was in charge of the outfits and hair styling really knew how to make Tsuzuru look even more charming than he already was.

Since finals week was slowly approaching, you decided to get him another gift card to the same coffee shop from before since you had a feeling that he’d need the caffeine. You put it in a dandelion-themed envelope and left a card telling him how much you appreciated all the hard work that he put into his writing and his acting. You also told him to get some rest when he gets the chance since he’s probably exhausted from the busyness between school and the troupe this week.

After the curtain call ended, you followed the flow of the guests flooding back into the lobby. A lot of the guests liked to stick around to personally greet the actors, but you just wanted to leave the present in Tsuzuru’s bin and head home.

You just pulled the envelope out of your bag when someone else accidentally bumped into you. It was just hard enough for you to lose grip on the envelope and it fell to the ground.

“I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to!” the person said apologetically, leaning down to pick up the envelope for you.

“No, it’s fine! It’s not a big-“ You clammed up the moment you realized who was picking up your envelope.

It was the one and only Minagi Tsuzuru who was kneeling down and holding your gift to him in his hand. He looked up at you with a bit of worry.

“You aren’t hurt anywhere, are you?”

You weren’t able to form a decent sentence and just shook your head. The fact that Tsuzuru was actually talking directly to you wasn’t settling in your mind. You probably looked absolutely insane with the deep blush forming on your cheeks and the steam practically coming out of your ears.

He smiled. “That’s good.” He was about to hold the envelope up for you as he got up when he noticed that his own name was on it. “Wait, this is for me? Thanks so much! I really appreciate it!”

“U-Uh… y-yeah…”

“I’ll be sure to read it when…” His voice trailed off when something caught his eye. He was silent for a moment and then realized that he left you hanging. “O-oh, sorry. I just saw your handwriting and thought about how nice it looks.”

You looked up at him with wide eyes. “R-really…?” It was kind of embarrassing to hear your crush compliment something about you.

“Y-yeah, it’s really easy to read. You have good penmanship. You know, I feel like I’ve seen it before on some other cards that I’ve gotten here…” Tsuzuru peeked up at you. “... Or at the library.”

“H...Huh?” Your heart stopped immediately. He didn’t just say that, did he?

“You… you always use letters and sticky notes with dandelions on them, don’t you? After noticing that, I kinda started recognizing your handwrit-”

“U-Um!” You quickly interrupted him, shaking from both anxiety and fear. “I-I… R-Really sorry, but I… I’ve got a test on Monday that I, uh…. Gotta study! Bye!”

“W-wait!”

You weren’t able to hear him out because you ran out of the lobby as fast as you possibly could, leaving Tsuzuru absolutely in shock.

The following Monday, for lack of better terms, you felt like absolute shit. You spent a good portion of the weekend moping over the fact that Tsuzuru completely found out who you are and most likely thought you were creepy. The other portion of the weekend was spent studying for the test in order to stop moping over Tsuzuru.

You started regretting starting this habit and cringed at yourself every time you thought of it. It didn’t matter that you passed your test thanks to all those hours of studying; your crush found out about all of your weird antics! You felt like your love life hit an absolute low.

You found yourself passing by the library, something you always did after your last class. You stopped walking for a short moment before deciding to just walk past the building. As much as you wanted to go in and sit in silence, you were scared that you’d come across Tsuzuru. Mentally unprepared for that humiliation, so you sighed and started to go head home.

“Hey, wait up!”

You didn’t think much of the voice and kept walking away until someone grabbed your wrist. You turned around and saw Tsuzuru stopping you in your tracks. Both of you were quiet; Tsuzuru was catching his breath and you were too surprised by his sudden interaction. His eyes were serious and it looked like he didn’t want to let you out of his sight any time soon.

“Um… M-Minagi-san?”

His eyes widened and that serious look in his eyes was replaced with a more embarrassed one. He quickly retracted the hand holding your wrist and stuffed it in his pocket. “U-uh, s-sorry! I-I just left the library to wait for you outside but then I saw you leaving so I, uh…”

“Y-You were gonna… What?”

Tsuzuru nodded shyly. “I was looking for you this morning, but you never came around. I had a feeling you were trying to avoid me, so I thought it’d be better to try my luck and just wait outside this time.” He laughed shyly. “Guess I got really lucky, huh?”

You rubbed your arm awkwardly. He might’ve felt lucky but you felt the exact opposite of that. You weren’t in the mood for any reminder of what happened on Saturday. “U-Um, did you need me for something?”

“Yeah. I wanted to give you something.” He shuffled through his backpack and held out a small envelope. “I...It’s a gift card for that coffee shop. I’m sure you didn’t know this, but I actually love going to that shop. I wanted to return the favor, so uh… here.”

You took the envelope and looked at it in surprise. Of all the things you thought he’d say, you didn’t expect him to give you a present. “Um… thanks.”

“Oh, and these, too.” Tsuzuru pulled out a small treat box from his bag and held that out to you. “They’re cookies. You said that you had a text today, right? I figured you might want something sweet after a test.”

“Y-You made these, Minagi-san?!” The cookies that you could see from the plastic window looked professionally made.

He laughed. “No, not me! Someone in the dorm I live in made them. He’s really good at cooking and baking. He made a lot, so I packed some for you.”

Your cheeks felt warm. You really weren’t expecting any presents from Tsuzuru and having his attention like this was somewhat embarrassing. “Y-You didn’t have to… I’m just your average fan and--”

He smiled softly. “I did it because I wanted to. You always put really nice letters and notes on the gifts. Maybe it’s because you see how stressed I can get in the library, but you always seemed to say the right things or give me something when I need it the most.” Tsuzuru scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “And as creepy as this sounds… I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while now. Even before you started leaving presents for me. I just didn’t know how to start a conversation with you.”

You laughed a bit. “That’s nowhere near as creepy as leaving presents for someone you’ve never talked to.”

“Well, it’s just as creepy to accept presents left at your seat by some mystery person,” he retorted, laughing with you. “Speaking of which, I think it’s time I learned your name. You already know mine, and I can’t keep calling you a mystery person forever.”

Finally relieved that he didn’t find you freaky, you told him your name.

“(Full Name)-san, huh? It really suits you.” Tsuzuru liked the way your name rolled off of his tongue and he was almost tempted to say it again just for the sake of it. Just thinking of your name brought a smile to his lips. “Well, you already know it, but my name is Minagi Tsuzuru. It’s nice to formally meet you, (Name)-san.”

You chuckled, thinking about how you never thought things would lead up to this. “It’s nice to formally meet you too, Minagi-san.”

He saw the way you smiled and he felt his cheeks warm up a bit more. “Are you doing anything after this? You see, I happen to have a gift card to that coffee shop, too,” he said in a joking manner. “Do you want to grab a coffee and talk a bit more there? I’ll pay for your coffee.”

You laughed at his little joke and nodded. “If I can pay for yours, then I’d love to!”

#Minagi Tsuzuru x Reader #a3! x reader #a3! imagines #Minagi Tsuzuru #a3! act! addict! actors!#act addict actors #reader insert #still don't know what to tag this lol

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botwstoriesandsuch · 3 years

Note

casual anon checkup how you doin

Let’s see, well we just breached 4am, and the sense of urgency to complete some school work has finally kicked in. I got my laptop propped up on the kitchen counter, and I just finished making some houseblend coffee that I loaded with milo powder for “health” purposes. Gotta finish up this AP Stat quiz while pretending I have some semblance of what the hell is going on in the class that I don’t pay attention to. I got my fancy bluetooth headphones that I connect with the wire anyway because I don’t like using up the battery, and I’ve had this acoustic cover of Solitary Warrior Revali looped for a few minutes now--I need those soft vibes to distract me from my thoughts about how the only reason I’ve been so sluggish with my work overall is probably due to years of ingrained perfectionism and inability to adapt my standards to the currently circumstances of the world along with my slightly declining mental health so you know--music’s nice.

Oh! And my dad got me this electric coaster (as pretentious as that sounds, I know. Leave me and my not-cold drinks alone ok) for the holidays and it matches with my favourite mug that I’m drinking from right now so, it’s the little things :3 Plus, not to derail myself from my school life intentionally, I’ve been working on this sheet music for one of my songs for a few weeks now and it’s starting to actually sounds pretty decent so yaay!! Probably won’t share it for a long time though...I’ve really been only working on it on and off again when I have “free time” [which may or may not just be my online class gym period hey you can’t prove anything to the cops]

Uhhh what else can I shove in here...”How you doin” pfft, I don’t really know how to make this ask funny or entertaining. Well I’ve nearly finished up this zine piece about the Royal Tech Lab so that’s fun (shameless plug for the Memorabillia Zine) aaand, I’m picking my kalimba again to learn Mipha’s theme. About time, cause I have to record shit for the [REDACTED] project I’m working on >:) heh. Oh fucking SHIT now that I think about it I have like three different secret projects I’m working on huh...haven’t even finish the script for that damn au...OK what it, right, “how am I doing” well, I’m doing everything and nothing currently, if that makes any sense. Your possible regrets about sending this to me aside, it feels good to just lay everything on a plate, shit out a post, and then never talk or acknowledge it ever again. It’s like birds, you know how they just take a ten pound shit in the mourning and never look back? (That way they don’t need to go during the rest of the day) That’s what this is, just a giant load of bullshit that I’m gonna set out at 5am and then never look at again.

You know as unhealthy as it sounds I really do dedicate a lot of time to this blog and this fandom. I mean sure not all of it (arguably any of it) is productive, but hey it’s something. The fuck else am I gonna do with my time...you wake up, you slam your keyboard awake to show up to online class, you take a nap, you spend a few hours keeping up the cishetallo gifted student appearance to your parents and then spend the rest of your time finding enough serotonin on the internet to make your brain work. Hell if I’ve talked to another human being in real life all year. Even my parents just kinda talk about the news and “how was class” during dinner which lasts like 10 minutes. My dad just kinda pisses off to work as soon as breakfast is made, and my mom just kinda stays in her office until everyone’s back and she makes dinner. Wait, that’s a lie, she does talk to me on Sunday mornings when she informs me of how I’ve ruined her day before church. So you know I do prefer it that way anyhow, why the hell would I want to talk with them when I got perfectly entertaining internet companions. What’s a “what scholarship programs are you doing?” to a *checks notifications*, “why are Rito fingers like that if they molt to they just lose the ability to--” god fucking dammit...

So! What were we saying--how am I doing? Welp. Guess it’s up for interpretation cause I sure as hell don’t know the answer to that. The hell would you do with the answer anyway. Pity points, praise points? I don’t particularly care for either. God I just realized you introduced yourself as “casual anon,” HA....apologies this is the opposite of casual isn’t it. Or, well maybe it isn’t. I’m the one just having a nice little chitchat with myself as I sip through my mug o’ caffeine. I might have to add a keep reading bar to this so I don’t blog up the dash, but also that would be ironically humorous to see for such a stupidly small question huh. Idk, contrary to popular belief I don’t have a spine so I’m probably not gonna unload all this shit on my followers like that out of the blue. Hell I’d be surprised if I actually posted this. Then again...5am and vibin with bad decision making.....plus the sentiment of putting something out to be seen is always nice.

You ever watch Bojack Horseman? Fantastic show, it’s just on a whole ‘nother level when it comes to writing. And yeah, I probably should have been watching it in the first place, BUT.............yeah ok there’s real excuse I probably shouldn’t be watching it/have watched it. But there’s this one episode in Season 4 I think? It’s where Bojack gives a eulogy for his mother’s funeral and the entire episode is just that, it’s just this giant monologue of him giving his eulogy. And that episode always facinated me because it is probably the most interesting episode in the entire show and one of my favourites, and like...how did they do that?? How did they make twenty minutes of talking so engaging and entertaining? I mean, yeah, I could probably analyze the pacing and structure to find the answer, and hell if I’ve watch my share of youtube video essays on the subject. But like, just the entire concept that someone had the idea to make 20 minutes of talking an entire episode....that’s just insane (forgive the language).

It’s one thing to want to talk about yourself for a long time and be interesting, but to pour all kinds of energy to make some made-up fictional character talk about THEMselves for a long period of time...is that sad? Or maybe it’s respectable. /to make an audience care more about something that’s not real rather than you. Well, perhaps that’s selfish thinking.

Oh! You know what, I just got this super nice message from someone the other day about a Raybands giveaway. Obviously, I’m not in the need for sunglasses during this day and age so I kindly declined and ignore the offer, but it got me thinking: how liked to you have to be in order to sway someone to clicking a random link. Like I’m talking about your friends or something, but like, if you opened your door oneday and Mr. Rogers was there selling clementines, would you buy them? Or if Lin Manuel Miranda offered you a vaccum, would you buy it? What’s the standard of known niceness that constitutes to you complying with what they’re asking? I sure would like to know....not for manipulation purposes but just for...idk, just having that tangibility of something.

Ah well, fuck me gently with a chainsaw how am i doing. Well I’ll tell you what I’m doing, I’m procrastinating. Procrastinating on work and wips and conversations and dilemmas. You don’t fail all the shots you don’t take afterall *wink wink* aaand for legal reasons that was a joke. Idk, you tell me how I’m doing, fuck if I know. According to this empty mug, I’m doing well, but I also will be doing a piss in the bathroom probably.

#not botw #rant #or vent #idfk #it's weird #i guess it's ok to rb tho sldkfj #god fuck me and my pretentious ass I really did write more than two paragraphs for this huh

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annepikachu · 3 years

Text

MORSE CODE AND CHICKEN DRUMSTICKS (EXO Xiumin × Reader)

(FANFIC)

- Anne (Pikachu)

Note: Reader= Yn (Your name) (female)

13 chapters. Fluff. Lots of beautiful smiles.

(Also, there’s a small reference to Taylor Swift's lyrics because I love her.)

Happy reading!

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

Yn sighed and plopped down on the seat in her favorite corner of the library. She has a painful assignment to complete. Yes painful because she has been procrastinating until the day before she has to hand over the assignment.

“Humm, lately this library has been bustling with so many visitors”, she observed. “What’s up? Are they giving out chicken drumsticks for free?” Her eyes wandered around trying to figure out the reason. “Aah, that must be it" as her gaze stopped and hovered over the librarian’s desk. There’s this unrealistically cute guy who joined the post of the librarian a few days back. His predecessor had retired. And since then the library is mostly housefull. “Okay Yn stop staring at him as if you’re looking at a pizza. You look like a creep right now. Do your homework”, she mentally slapped herself and put on her headphones, opened her favorite Playlist and focused on her assignment.

Kim Minseok was surprised at the drastic change in the number of visitors in the library since the third day of his joining. He had heard from his predecessor about the library being usually empty. He was actually relieved by this fact. He was happy to see that a puppy eyed guy and a Yoda eared guy who seem to be a couple, a guy who always wears a bear hoodie and sometimes accompanied by two toddlers, a pair of cute granny and grandpa, and a clumsy handsome young lady are the only daily visitors. But it seems that his relief was short-lived.

The library has turned into Dalian Beach these days. The girls come with the pretext of reading books here but end up gushing about how handsome he is. One of them didn’t even realize that she was ‘reading’ her book upside down and yet another straightaway came up and put a can of coke on his desk. But these don’t bother him much because he is used to the flood of compliments coming from people irrespective of gender and age. Thankfully the library gets quite empty an hour before closing.

“Oh that handsome girl is still writing. She must have a huge assignment. She usually reads some interesting books at this time of day”, he kept looking at her. “Later on I should suggest her some of my favorites as well". He resumed his work but was soon distracted by the sound of a continuous tapping. His eyes narrowed.

Yn was frustrated by the last portion of her assignment and soon found herself tapping her fingers to the beat of the music playing in her headphones. “Screw it, I give up.” She paused. “Oh well I’ll just do the rest after having my supper. Don’t wanna upset Professor Junmyeon.” She slammed shut her notebook and was startled to find the cute librarian standing right in front of her.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

“Umm sorry for startling you, but I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yes?” Yn was confused. What could this cute guy possibly want to know?

“Did you miss your lunch? Or are you craving for chicken drumsticks just for the sake of chicken drumsticks?”

“Huh?”

“I mean I heard you saying ‘chicken drumsticks’ over and over just now, tapping, to be precise”

“I did not. Well I had thought about it a few hours ago but not now. What makes you think so?”

“Those tapping sounds you made just now. They kinda translated into ‘chicken drumsticks’ though.”

“Really? Are you talking about Morse code?” Yn replayed that portion of the song and tapped consciously, noting down the codes while Minseok looked at her with amusement. “Holy Guacamole!” She sprang up. “You are right. Wow this is amazing!”

“So you were just tapping to the beat that turned out to be saying chicken drumsticks?”

The next moment they collapsed on the floor laughing at this curious conversation.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

III

Yn couldn’t spare time to go to the library for a week but finally she was back on her usual routine. She waved back at Minseok and broke into a giggle as she remembered the conversation about ‘chicken drumsticks’. After sometime she got up to search for another book and almost bumped into Minseok, shrieked and fell on her butt. She got back on her feet, “Whoa, you really do have a knack for scaring off people”.

“My bad. It was you who bolted in here though.” His pout made Yn's heart go UwU. “Anyway which book are you searching for?...This? Okay. Here you go"

Just as she turned and started walking back to her desk, Minseok suddenly asked “By the way Yn, you didn’t ask me my name yet".

“Oh right.” She proceeded towards him. “What is your name Mr Minseok Kim a.k.a Xiumin?”

“H-How did you know my name? Even Xiumin?” He stuttered.

“Doesn’t everyone in the college? You’re probably the only librarian who has a fan-page dedicated to him.” She chuckled in amusement.

“Wow, I had no idea", he whispered.

“They post your pictures from shooting range so I guess those are already pretty much on public domain. But you can check if they have posted any private picture of yours and maybe hit report", she suggested. “Anyway I’ll borrow this book for a week.”

“Huh? Oh right. I’ll issue it right away.” He was dazed from the information overload.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

“Earth to Minseok. What are you thinking about? And what’s with the occasional smile too? Did you inhale Nitrous Oxide?” Sehun asked puckering his brows.

“Uh just two weird conversations I had with a girl. By the way, do you know I apparently have a fan-page dedicated to me?”

“Really?” It was evident that Sehun was feeling nervous for some reason.

“It seems you know something about this. C’mon spill.” Minseok insisted.

“Err well it was I who created the fan-page. Because you’re undeniably the coolest one here in the range. I even added the tagline ‘that’s right, my type’!"

“You little rascal!” He flicked Sehun's forehead. “I had the shock of my life when I came to know about this!”

“But Xiu, who’s the girl you were talking about?” Sehun had a mischievous glint in his eye. “Is that why you were smiling just now? Tell me more about it!”

“Dude it’s not what you think! She is a regular visitor in the library and we had just two conversations. I was surprised that she knew my arcade name Xiumin. And it was she who told me about the fan-page.”

“You have a crush oh her, don’t you? How is she like? Did you ask her out?”

“Relax Hun. We just talked about Morse code.”

“Ugh that’s such a turn off.”

“But she’s quite interesting. She’s handsome yes. And cute too.”

“I knew it! You’re whipped for her! Ask her out.”

“Calm down Hun. I’m not sure about how I feel and I don’t even know if she has a lover. Or if she is at all interested in me.”

“Don’t you underestimate your charm Xiu. And she isn’t interested in you? You get so many love letters, did you forget that? She might be charmed by your smile but probably doesn’t show it. She has a set boundary maybe?”

“I don’t want to draw inferences” Minseok sighed. “But yes I’d love to keep talking to her.”

“Use Morse code.” Sehun chuckled.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

Finally it’s FriYay night and Yn couldn’t be happier staying in her pajamas and being lazy for the next two days. But what the hell! She can’t find her headphones anywhere. And she doesn’t remember where she had last placed them. They were a gift from her cousin. Chanyeol would be upset. She will ask his boyfriend Baekhyun to calm him down and herself buy a new one in the meantime.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her phone ringing.

“Hey Yn, Minseok here. I got your number from the library register. Sorry to call your number without your permission but I just found your headphones in the library and thought I should inform you right then.” He sounded sheepish.

“Phew, I’m so relieved! I was searching for them everywhere and almost decided to buy a new one. Thank you Minseok! I’m glad that you found them.”

“Uh it’s okay. I’m relieved too. So do you need these urgently? Then I can wait in front of the library and hand them over to-"

“No no, I don’t need them right at this moment, but… Umm can you please keep them with you until Monday? I visit the library everyday anyway. I’m too lazy to step out now.”

“Hahaha, okay okay. Don’t worry about that. See you on Monday”

Yn rolled back on her bed smiling. “I’ll have to treat him to chicken drumsticks for real.”

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

“Thanks a lot Minseok." Yn took back her headphones and smiled with her heart eyes now making Minseok's heart go UwU. “Even if it’s not a big deal for you, I am really grateful to you and so I got something for you as a token.” She then started tapping on the desk. Minseok looked at her inquiringly but soon started interpreting the codes as she tapped away. “Got a box of chicken drumsticks for you. Hope you like them.”

He looked at her in surprise. “Who does not like drumsticks? You did not really have to do this though. Thank you for this.”

“Bon Appétit”, she said as she gave him the box. “Well, I need to hurry now. See you later.”

“Why is she so adorable?” He wondered while staring at the box in his hands.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

VII

Yn was having several bad days at a stretch now. She spent weeks without sleeping at night and watched FIFA world cup instead. Her favorite team was eliminated in the semifinals. And now the lack of sleep was taking a toll on her. She barely managed to complete all her pending assignments on time. Professor Junmyeon was still upset with her because she omitted a portion of her assignment carelessly. Her neighborhood cat disappeared without a trace. She avoided a freak accident but witnessed several persons getting severely injured. She has grown tired of her menstrual cramps which were being very cruel to her this time. And the last nail in the coffin: she had a quarrel with her bestfriend Jongdae today. Physically and mentally exhausted she placed her hand on her stomach and sat on a bench behind the canteen of the college and started sobbing silently.

Minseok was leaving early today because the library was practically empty today. Even Yn didn’t come. He suddenly spotted someone sitting hunched on a bench at a distance. It seemed that the person was hurt in the stomach. He rushed over there.

“Yn? What happened to you? What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Are you hurt somewhere? Tell me what’s wrong.” Minseok sat beside her worriedly, held her shoulders and turned her towards him. She buried her face in his chest and burst into loud sobs. He instantly engulfed her in his hug and patted her head. “It’s okay Yn. Let it out.” Over the months he grew close to her. They both had a lot of friendly banters and of course some crazy conversations through Morse code. Seeing her cry now tugged at his heartstrings. “Breathe Yn. Take deep breaths. Yes. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I hate crying. I-I don’t want to be like this.” Yn said between her sobs. “I had way too many bad days to handle and-" she paused abruptly. The cramps were back again. She curled up in pain.

“And you are having cramps?” He finished her sentence. “You’ll be fine. Yn. Just endure a bit, okay?” Still holding her tight in his hug he reached out for his bag and took out a heating pad. “Here, Yn. Take this.” He kept on stroking her head and occasionally rubbing her back while she tended to her cramps.

“You okay now?”

Yn pulled back from the hug when the cramps subsided. “Thank you Minseok. Yes, I feel better now.”

“I’m glad.” He handed her some tissue paper. “Now wipe your tears and come with me” He led her to the canteen.

“Here, have a cup of hot chocolate. You’ll get relief… That’s right yes. Drink slowly.” He sat beside her and stroked her head. “Done?... Okay"

Yn started sniffling. “Yn, is everything okay?” Minseok panicked.

She nodded her head. “I’m just touched by your gesture. Thanks for making me feel better.”

Minseok smiled. “That’s what friends do. Well, it’s pretty late now. Let me drop you off at your house. Let’s go.”

“I have an extra helmet and I drive pretty well and my bike is well maintained.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Yn giggled.

“Well I just made a declaration so you don’t feel threatened. Just don’t fall asleep that’s all.” He was relieved to hear her laugh again.

“Aye aye Master Xiu.”

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

VIII

Yn saw that Jongdae wasn’t present in the classroom. She decided she’d visit his house later today and sort out the misunderstanding. She walked out of the classroom during recess hour. Suddenly someone hugged her tight. She smiled and hugged him back. She knew it was Jongdae. “I’m sorry Yn. There was a misunderstanding. I shouldn’t have reacted that way. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s okay Dae, I realized that. And I would have anyway barged into your house had you not come to college.”

“So, are we good now?”

“Of course!”

“Okay then pretty please! Help me pick out a pendant for my girlfriend. I’ve selected some of them but couldn’t finally decide among them. Come with me to the shop later today.”

Yn scowled. “This is why you rushed to patch it up with me huh?”

“Gosh! No no no that’s not it! I’ll treat you to ice cream. Okay?”

“Okay. Deal"

Jongdae sighed. “The way you react to food, I’m pretty sure you’ll drop me in a heartbeat if someone offers you food.”

Suddenly Ji-eun appeared out of nowhere and fake punched Jongdae's face. “How dare you make my Yn baby upset? Yes Yn drop him right away. I’ll treat you to a truckload of ice cream.”

“Guys!!” Jongin appeared and walked towards them making the corridor his runway.

Yn couldn’t deny once she had a tiny crush on him.

“Guess what? Kyungsoo cooked Spaghetti for us!” Jongin screamed. And the four of them dashed to the canteen.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

Yixing was already there with Kyungsoo when they reached the canteen. “Dig in guys", Kyungsoo said as they huddled around the table.

“Okay guys! I’ve some tea to spill", Ji-eun announced while looking at Yn intently.

“Spill! Spill! Spill!” They chanted in unison.

“Apparently Yn has gotten herself a boyfriend and decided to conceal the fact".

Yn almost choked. “Wha- when? Even I don’t know I have a boyfriend?”

“Oh yeah? I saw that cute librarian dropping you off at your house yesterday night. You turned to hug him but you seemed shy.” Ji-eun added with a glee “And friends don’t feel shy Yn.”

Yn protested. “I had my reasons. He’s not what you guys think.” She remembered that she hugged Minseok out of gratitude towards him for taking care of her. She had hesitated initially thinking whether it would be appropriate. But she hugged him anyway.

Suddenly someone put their chin on Yn’s left shoulder and yet another put their chin on her right shoulder and both said in unison, “Well well Yn, you never told us anything about this!”

Yn almost fell from her seat. She turned around to see Chanyeol and Baekhyun smiling mischievously at her.

“So is he or is he not-” Chanyeol said while taking a seat. “Your crush?”, added Baekhyun.

Yn shrugged. “I am not sure. I’ve way too many crushes at this point and you guys know that.”

“The most recent crush is our senior Jessi, right", Yixing asked.

“Well yes but I can only admire her from afar”, Yn replied dreamily.

“Anyway get to the point guys.” Chanyeol took the reins. “So apparently it seems he has a soft corner for Yn. I’ve noticed that. And now we must root for Yn and make sure they end up together. So whats our plan?”

“How about kidnapping him and threatening him to date Yn"? Kyungsoo asked excitedly.

“No way!” Jongin protested.

“You’re going to get all of us in trouble, Soo", Baekhyun chuckled.

“Isn’t that the easiest way out?”, Kyungsoo pouted.

“That’s not how things work, Kyungsoo-ah", Jongin said while poking at Kyungsoo's cheek.

Yn could sense that everyone noticed something was brewing between Jongin and Kyungsoo but unsurprisingly they chose to focus on Yn today.

“Well even I agree that’s the easiest way out but we don’t want to get in trouble.” Jongdae said seriously, “so Yn you better speed up and ask him out. And don’t deny that you don’t feel anything for him.”

Yn was again reminded about how she felt fuzzy while being engulfed in Minseok’s hug. He’s definitely a good friend. But she didn’t want to rush things up.

“And Yn if you want to daydream instead of eating that last spoonful of Spaghetti”, Yixing got up and snatched her spoon and finished off the remaining Spaghetti. “Let me have it.”

“I swear to God Yixing!” Yn sprang up. “I’m gonna train Inzaghi to chase you!”

“Now who’s Inzaghi?” Jongin asked suspiciously.

“It’s the Vincenzo effect.” Baekhyun explained. “It’s a neighborhood pigeon and the naming courtesy goes to Yn", Ji-eun added.

“Don’t you guys dare to give out spoilers, some of us are lagging behind an episode or two”, the rest of them warned.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

Minseok was standing in the balcony of the library replaying in his head the events of yesterday. He didn’t expect Yn to hug him again and make his heart beat erratically. Sehun was right. He is falling for Yn gradually.

“Hey Minseok are you alright?” Minseok heard Yn’s voice and realized he had zoned out thinking of her. “You seem to have caught a cold.” Yn was worried.

“Oh yes it was raining in my area yesterday and I got drenched".

“Uh oh I’m so sorry. You wouldn’t have gotten drenched had you not accompanied me to drop me off.”

“Well it was raining for quite a long time and I’d have anyway gotten drenched even if I had reached my place earlier. So blame the clouds Yn.” Minseok chuckled making Yn giggle at his explanation.

“But seriously though, you don’t look good. I think you have a fever too.” Yn put her palm on his forehead. Minseok was flustered looking down at her worried face. Yn didn’t realize she was standing at almost zero distance from him. Before he could utter anything Yn grabbed his wrist. “You need to visit the doctor right now", Yn said dragging him downstairs towards the doctor’s room.

“He’s running a high fever. I’m giving some medicine.” The doctor took out a file of capsules. “And I think it’s better if you lie down and take rest in the sick room until your fever goes down.”

“But the libr-" Minseok tried to protest but was cut off by Yn’s stern glare.

“Library can wait. Health first Minseok". Yn crossed her arms.

“Tell your assistant about your situation. He can handle the library for sometime.” The doctor suggested.

“You should head back to library Yn. You went there to read, right? I’ll stay here until my fever goes down. Don’t worry I won’t run away from here.”

“I can read later. Now you close your eyes and take rest.” Yn said sitting on the chair beside the bed while stroking Minseok’s head absent-mindedly.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

Yn could sense that Minseok was staring at her for a long time. The library was crowded as usual. She mouthed “what happened?” but he just smiled and shook his head and resumed his work. He seemed tensed for some reason.

She heard him tapping on his desk when the crowd thinned. Her eyes grew wide. He- did he tap “will you go on a date with me?” She saw him walk towards her.

Minseok spoke hesitantly, “I know I asked you all of a sudden, but I like you. I’ve been debating whether I should tell you this for weeks but I couldn’t hold back any further. You don’t need to tell me right now about how you feel. Take your time. And it’s absolutely fine if you don’t feel the same way. But can we maybe go on a friend date atleast?”

Yn thought for a while. “Sure. Let’s have a friend date.” She smiled. “Where are we going then?”

“I was thinking of taking you to my shooting range. We can play some rounds and have snacks later on there. How about this Sunday afternoon?”

“Sounds great!” Her eyes lit up. “But! On one condition.”

“And what’s that?” He asked cautiously.

“Bring me a bouquet of chicken drumsticks that day.” Yn replied with a wide grin.

“As you wish.” He smiled widely as he touched her nose-tip with his forefinger.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

XII

“This is such a cool place!” Yn ran around inside the shooting range, looking at everything in awe. Minseok watched her with an amused smile. Yn picked up a gun and aimed at the target.

“Wait.” Minseok came up behind her and held her arms. She felt her back against his chest. Her heart started thumping. “Focus Yn. Keep your arm straight while holding the gun. You don’t wanna hurt yourself when the gun recoils.” He adjusted her arms. “Now fire.” She hit the target.

Yn was ecstatic. “Minseok let’s play a round then. I’ll go first.”

He kept on smiling and hyped her up every time she aimed with the gun. She was just unbelievably adorable. And a sharpshooter too. She missed the target only once. He fell for her deeper every time she flashed an adorable smile at him after hitting the target.

“It’s my turn now. And I’m going to beat you in this round.” He winked at her.

Yn gaped at him while he shot the targets one by one. He looked darn sexy in that pose. He got ready for the last target and was just about to press the trigger. “I like you too, Minseok!” She blurted out. Minseok was shocked and turned his face towards Yn. The trigger went off and he missed the target.

“It’s a draw! It’s a draw! You didn’t beat me!” Yn jumped and danced gleefully around him.

“So, you- you said that just to make me miss my target? And nothing more?” Minseok looked at her sadly and turned his back to her.

“No! Oh no no you got the wrong idea.” She tugged at his sleeve. “I really meant it when I said I like you.” Minseok turned towards Yn in surprise. She went on, “I have been thinking about it ever since you told me about your feelings. I had already decided I’d tell you about my feelings today. But I couldn’t just suppress the urge to fool around a bit when I got the opportunity to.”

“You’re such a cheeky girl!” Minseok exclaimed and chased her.

“You won’t catch me that easily! I run fast.” Yn shouted while running ahead of him.

“Well not faster than I!” Minseok wrapped his arms around her waist, lifted her off the ground and spun round, making her blush.

“It’s getting late, Yn, let’s go now.” Minseok said tugging at her.

“I’m not able to handle this gun properly.” Yn pouted.

“It’s okay, I’ll show you how to. But later, okay? It’s getting really late now.” Minseok couldn’t stop chuckling at her antics.

Minseok and Yn bumped into Sehun outside the shooting range. “Yn, this is Sehun, one of my teammates in the shooting range. And a TMI, he’s the one who created that fan-page.” Minseok gave Sehun a fake glare. “And Sehun, this is Yn, my date.”

“Nice to meet you, Yn.” Sehun gave her a warm handshake. “Do you like this place and my bro here?”

“I love it here! I’m gonna come here often now.” Yn replied. “And yes I like him too.” She said looking at Minseok shyly.

Minseok blushed. “I’m dropping her off at her house. I’ll see you tomorrow Hun.”

Sehun smirked and managed to whisper into Minseok’s ear, “you are lucky that she’s into Morse code. So did you confess to her using Morse code?”

“Don’t give me that look you cheesy little brat.” Minseok whisper-yelled at him.

Yn stopped by her gate. “I really had a great time with you. Thank you for today Minseok.”

“I’m also glad to spend some time with you. See you tomorrow.” Minseok stopped before turning back to his bike. “So are we dating officially now Yn?”

“Yes. A thousand times yes.” Yn smiled.

He walked closer to her, leaned close to her lips and locked his eyes with hers seeking permission. She nodded nervously while standing on her tiptoes and placed her hands on his shoulders. Wrapping his arms around her he pulled her in and she was a little more brave. It’s the first kiss, it’s flawless, really something. It’s fearless. Yn didn’t care now if Ji-eun was sitting by her window and keeping an eye on her. Yn would tell her group of friends everything tomorrow.

But the thing is, Ji-eun really saw Yn with Minseok. She had a triumphant smile on her lips.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

XIII

Yn saw that everyone in her squad was giving her a cheeky smile while swarming towards her. “Guys, I can explain. I wanted to tell everything face to face. That’s why I didn’t text anyone.”

“And I saw them kissing too!” Ji-eun said excitedly and made a kissing gesture towards Yn.

Yn had a flashback of yesterday. He was very gentle with her. She absolutely melted in his kiss.

“I bet Yn is having flashbacks of that moment.” Jongdae smirked. “Look at her. Her face is a beetroot now.”

“You guys!” Yn stomped her feet.

“Okay, okay calm down Yn. Let’s have a lunch together today, shall we? Tell Minseok to join us.” Chanyeol spoke.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, call him.” Everyone shouted in unison.

“Okay. Okay. Chill.” Yn giggled while dialing Minseok’s number.

Minseok blended well with Yn’s noisy and cheeky friends. Yn was glad how things turned out.

“So, Yn and Minseok. Tell us how did you two end up together. What was the catalyst? The squad wants to know.” Yixing said holding up a spoon as if it were a mic.

The couple turned to each other and smiled. They both knew what they were about to say. Minseok and Yn turned again towards the squad and said, “not just one. There were two catalysts. Morse code and Chicken drumsticks.”

-----(The end)-----

_____________________________________________________________

P.S. Those who are wondering how did Minseok know Yn’s name (in chapter III), I leave it to your imagination. ;-)

He might have seen the library register, or might have noticed the name on her notebook when she shut it, or maybe her headphones were customised to bear her name on them and he noticed that. The choice is yours. And why did Yn not get surprised? Well she’s quick-witted too.

I hope this wasn’t too boring. This is my first time writing a story. Thank you for reading :-)

If you wish you can take a look at my fanart account on Instagram. Here's the link.

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Thank you Ayushee for hyping me up. She has written a fanfic too. Check it out.

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