#; see the world through my eyes: watch it burn [ dash commentary ] | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

obsidiancreates · 3 years

Text

The Wrong Realization (But A Welcome One)

4,012 words long

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Jonah wakes up with a headache like he’s got a hangover. He groans, putting his arm over his eyes as the dim light of his bedroom tries to burn out his retinas. Even with all of his thickest curtains closed and fastened together, the sunlight is still too harsh. Must be the way it’s reflecting off the snow.

He falls out of bed more so than gets out of bed, and lays on the floor for a moment. He reaches up to his nightstand and manages to pull down his phone, which bonks him on the temple on it’s way down. That gets him to wake up, with a shout and a dash of fight-or-flight response.

He sighs, rubbing his eyes. He doesn’t even feel very rested! Granted, he did stay up most of the night listening to a new podcast he discovered... fascinating stuff, wonderful deep-dives into mythologies and legends from all over the world. Something a little lighter to relax to than his usual political commentary go-tos.

He stands up, and scrolls through his playlist until he finds a good morning podcast. He heads into the bathroom, ready to grapple with his hair to get it nice and presentable-

He looks into the mirror and freezes up. His hair is perfect. Exactly how he always strives to get it to look, and always falls just one stray strand short of. But now? Not a flyaway in sight.

“I could have sworn I took a shower,” he mumbles to himself. Maybe he just forgot to use shampoo? No, he would never. Maybe too much conditioner, then. But he’s always so careful not to overuse...

“I guess it saves time,” he says aloud. “No looking a gift horse in the mouth.” He picks up his toothbrush and gets to scrubbing, but pauses when he feels something stringy in his mouth.

He spits out the toothpaste foam, expecting a hair.

Instead, it’s a scraping of plastic from his toothbrush, and several bristles.

He stares for a moment, and then opens his mouth. Does he have something completely alarming stuck in his teeth? Did he somehow eat something metal?

... No, not as far as he can see. Nothing is out of the ordinary. Absolutely nothing. Completely fine.

On an unrelated note, the two little cuts in his lower lip that are perfectly aligned with his canines are starting to sting from the mint, so he hurries up and finishes brushing his teeth.

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The sun blinds him as he drives to work, and he has to manage mostly by listening to the traffic around him (which is absurdly loud today, he can hear it with his windows rolled up).

And the sunlight is harsh on his skin, too. Does he need to invest in better sunscreen? Maybe he should revisit that article he read about SPF effectiveness and how to choose the best one...

He gets into the parking lot and parks his car. He opens the door, and promptly slams it shut again with a yelp. His hands didn’t just feel burnt, it did burn!

Definitely needs to up his SPF! And research sudden sunlight sensitivity... his hand is bright pink.

He sits in the car for a moment, trying to figure out what to do. And then there’s a knock on his window. He startles, but relaxes when he sees it’s just Glenn. He rolls his window down just a bit. “Um, hi. Good-good morning, I mean.”

“Heyyyy, Jonah,” Glenn says with a smile. “So, um, I noticed you’re stuck in your car?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, no, I just um. Well you see I-I, um-”

“Need a hand?” Glenn’s smile is a bit strained, for some reason. “Because of the sun?”

“... Well I mean if-if you’re offering then it would be... rude to say no...”

Glenn opens up an umbrella, making Jonah shout in surprise. “Where did that-”

“Come on in under the shade!”

Jonah hesitates a moment, put off by Glenn’s... odd, energy. But he can’t stay in his car forever, so he gets out and walks in with Glenn under the safety of the umbrella.

“Thanks,” he says when they get inside. “I just um, I need to update my sunscreen, you know? And I just didn’t want to risk... my skin...”

“No, no, I completely get it,” Glenn assures. “The warm, life-giving rays of the sun can be very harsh sometimes!”

“... Y-yeah. Yeah.”

“Hey, um, Jerusha and I got you a gift, actually. She was so upset by the whole attack thing yesterday-”

“Oh, you guys didn't have to get me something-”

“Well, we wanted to, so um, here!”

Glenn hands Jonah a very, very wide-brimmed hat. There’s a little bat needle-pointed onto the sides.

“Oh! Wow! Um, it’s... so big!”

“Maybe it’ll help until you update your sunscreen?” Glenn sounds hopeful. Too hopeful for Jonah to turn down. And... it would be functional, at least...

“Yes! Yes, I think this’ll be great for that, um, thank you! Thank you both, send Jerusha my-my thanks. For this. I can um, see she put some effort into customizing it! Just-just out of curiosity... why a bat?”

“Oh, well um, because of your situation.”

“... Situation, I don’t-”

“You know. The reason you burned?”

“... I still don’t understand-”

“HEYYYY, GUYS!” Amy butts in quite enthusiastically. “How’s it going this morning?”

“Oh, good!” Glenn says with a smile and a nod. “I was just giving Jonah this hat Jerusha made for him, because of his whole condition about being a vam-”

“OH HEY, Glenn, I actually really need your help with something!”

“Really?”

“Yes! Come over here, with me, to... softlines!”

“Oh, okay. I’ll talk with you later, Jonah!”

“Okay! Buh-”

Amy drags Glenn away, leaving Jonah with his hand up in an unfinished wave.

“... Bye. I-I was saying... bye.”

Jonah looks at the hat, and heads off to the breakroom.

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“So does Jonah have them?” Cheyenne is saying when Jonah enters the room.

“I mean, he looked like he did when he was chasing that lady-”

“Do I have what?”

Mateo and Cheyenne startle. “Oh, Jonah! We didn’t see you there! You were like... really, quiet,” Cheyenne says with a slightly strained smile.

“Yeah. So... sneaky.” Mateo looks similarly stressed.

“Well I, I did just get new ultra-soft shoes, very comfortable but I’m not sure about the long-term arch support... but um, what do I have?”

“Um... standards, for your fashion. Sometimes you have them, sometimes you don’t... usually only when you’re chasing, after... someone to flirt with.”

“Oh. ... You-you thought I was trying to flirt with that woman, last night?”

Cheyenne shrugs. “You did literally chase her into the parking lot.”

“I-I guess I did. But I wasn’t attracted to her I mean, I wasn’t attracted to any customers yesterday, even though there were a few good looking ones, that made me laugh... but-but I’m not- I mean, I wasn’t flirting with anyone-”

Jonah babbles on for a good five minutes before Glenn finally comes in and starts the meeting.

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Jonah sighs and rubs his eyes as he mops up a puddle of... it’s either slushie vomit or watered-down blood (though he’s leaning towards slushie vomit, something in him just says it definitely isn’t blood).

He leans against the mop and closes his eyes for a moment. So tired... he felt okay this morning, but as the day creeps on he feels less and less awake...

“Excuse me?”

Jonah startles, yelping and dropping the mop. The customer jumps back as the mop drops.

“I am so sorry!” Jonah exclaims. “I um, I-I think I feel asleep, um, how can I-”

Jonah pauses, at a loss for words.

The customer, a man around Jonah’s age, looks concerned. “You alright, man?”

“Huh?” Jonah’s face feels hot (the first bit of warmth he’s felt in two days). “Oh, um, I-I just, that was very unprofessional of me.”

The customer shrugs. “It’s a Cloud 9, professional isn’t really expected.”

Jonah chuckles. He clears his throat. “So, um, how can-can I help you?”

“I was looking for the recycled paper towels?”

“Oh, yeah, um... let me help you find those. They’re only half recycled, though.”

“I know. But you do what you can on a budget, right?”

“Right, yeah,” Jonah laughs. He can’t stop looking at the guy’s face... why does he feel all jittery?

“Um, here we are. The closest Cloud 9 gets to activism.” Jonah sticks his hands in his pockets and rocks on his heels. His mouth feels dry. Why is his mouth so dry? He licks his lips quickly while the customer isn’t looking.

“Better than I’ve been doing lately. Haven’t done a protest in months.”

“What kind of protests do you go to?” Why did he say that? He’s going to embarrass himself, oh no-

“Mostly wage labor ones, workers rights kind of things. Trying to get a union going at my job.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, well, I know unions don’t have a great reputation in a lot of places but-”

“No! I mean uh, I love unions! I-I’ve been wanting one here since I started working! Just uh, don’t tell my boss that, hah.”

The customer smiles at Jonah, and Jonah wonders if the floor actually fell out from under him or if that’s all in his head.

“Well, thanks for helping me find this. Maybe we can talk about helping each other’s unions efforts if I see you again.”

“Yeah!” Jonah flashes a bright smile. “Sure! Sounds-sounds great! Um was really nice to meet you!”

The customer smiles again and walks away, and Jonah needs to lean against the isle.

He lets out a heavy breath, wondering what the hell is going on and what he is feeling. He looks down the isle to see if anyone is watching him.

Mateo, Cheyenne, Marcus, and Dina are all staring.

Jonah quickly walks away, shame burning his cheeks. So they noticed something, too.

“-looked like he was about to eat him alive-”

He’s too busy being completely embarrassed by hearing them whisper that to wonder how he just heard it from three isles away.

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Jonah wakes up with a start as a cart rolls right over his leg. He shouts in pain and surprise, and then sighs at himself.

He peels the glue trap off of his face with a grimace. Cleaning the rat traps is a terrible time for his sudden and new case of what seems to be narcolepsy to strike. He sits up and rolls up his pant leg, expecting something nasty to greet him based on the crack he heard.

... Nothing. He frowns, and touches his leg. It doesn’t even sting.

“How did-”

“Jonah?”

Jonah looks up at Amy’s voice. She’s standing over him with a clipboard. “Oh, um... hi.”

“Hey. ... Why are you on the floor?”

“I was uh, cleaning the rat traps. And I... maybe fell asleep.”

“In the middle of the day?”

“... Yes...”

“Okay then. ... So um, I just... wanted to check in, for a minute. How’s it been going with customers?”

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean, have there been any... notable interactions, maybe, to throw an idea out there,” Amy says in her ‘I’m-hiding-the-real-reason-for-asking-this’ voice.

Jonah’s cheeks burn, and he’s sure he’s blushing. “They told you about that?”

“I... might’ve heard some gossip.”

“It-it was nothing, Amy. Really.”

“Are you sure? They said you keep looking at his neck-”

"Well I mean, he had a nice neck I-I guess but I was more looking at his face-”

“And that you licked your lips at him?”

“That-! My mouth was dry, and-and you know I hate chapped lips!”

“... And the hovering over him?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say hovering, more like just watching and... admiring... but that-that’s normal! I’ve been doing that since high school! A good ally normalizes these things, and-and when straight men, yeah, can admire other men in a-a completely! Normal way! Then it um, it helps... break down! The stereotypes!”

Amy looks... perplexed. She shakes her head. “Wait, what are we-”

“I mean, everyone does it, too! Like-like you! I’m sure you’ve looked at-at other woman, and admired their appearance, without feeling feelings for them, right?”

“Well, I guess, but- wait, Jonah, did you-”

“I mean we all wonder in college, right? But I don’t like, I mean there’s nothing wrong with liking both I just- I don’t, I wondered but I never-”

“Okay, um, this isn’t what I came over here to talk to you about-”

“Maybe there was a moment or two where I thought it might’ve been a thing but I-I never acted and if I did like both I would have acted on that, I think-”

“Okay! Um, you’re working through something right now, that is, not what I thought you were working through, so um, I’ll just check up on you later...”

Amy backs away as Jonah keeps recounting half-baked thoughts and unfinished sentences about his time in college and his roommates one friend who maybe had the best hair Jonah’s ever seen but their friendly hair-war was not flirting he swears...

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Jonah doesn’t chew the carrot, just rolls it in his teeth as he stares at the wall, lost in thought.

“... Not hungry for you lunch?” Sandra asks tentatively.

Jonah shakes his head, only half-hearing her.

“... Are you hungry for something else? Like... a customer?”

Jonah stops, and pulls the carrot out of his mouth. “You heard about that too?”

Sandra’s eyes widen, and she shakes her head.

“You did! Did- does everyone know about that?”

“Well, it-it’s been sort of, floating around-”

Jonah groans, putting his head in his hands.

“... So um... are you?”

“What? No! No, I am not hungry for him, that’s objectifying. Not that I- I mean, I’m a straight man, I can’t, objectify another man, because that implies attraction. ... Unless I’m playing into toxic masculinity stereotypes by believing that...”

“I don’t think you have to worry about falling into masculinity stereotypes,” Carol pipes up from another table.

Jonah looks at her, annoyed. Her eyes widen and she looks away.

Jonah puts his head back into his hands. “This is a nightmare...”

“For all of us,” Sandra whispers.

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Jonah sighs, slumping over onto the customer service counter. Garrett just looks at him, waiting for whatever Jonah has in store.

“... It normal for straight guys to admire other straight guys appearances, right?”

Garrett blinks. “Wow, just some casual conversation, huh?”

“Just- I mean, I know people are talking about-”

“You eyeing up that dude earlier like he was a steak?”

“... Yeah. That.”

“Dude, I don’t think this is the issue you should be focused on right now.”

“I know, I know! I’m in my thirties, I should have this figured out and be focusing on more important things-”

“Not what I meant, actually, I meant the superpowers-”

“-but I don’t know, I’ve never really had anyone point it out before! And-and now I can’t stop thinking like, am I? Attracted?”

“You know there’s nothing wrong if you are, right?”

“Yes, I do, I’ve been to a bunch of rallies and stuff.”

“Did you oogle dudes at those rallies?”

“NO! ... I mean I guess I observed and-and appreciated-”

“Yeah, you might just be on the gay spectrum, dude. I don’t know what else to tell you. Except that, uh, you just accidentally slapped my shoulder and you’re as cold as a bag of ice, so maybe that should be your crisis of the day.”

Jonah is staring off into space, rubbing his arm. It doesn’t seem like he heard Garrett at all. Garrett just sighs, and rolls away.

Jonah stays there, contemplating, for quite a while.

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“Okay, no more dancing around it.”

Jonah jerks awake. Again. God, why can’t he stay awake? ... Probably because he stayed up all night.

“No, Cheyenne.”

Jonah looks around. He peeks into the next isle, and then the next.

... Where the hell are Cheyenne and Amy? He can hear them so clearly...

“He’s like, totally oblivious to it!”

“He’ll realize it eventually, okay? It’s not some truth bomb we can just drop on him.”

“My friends drop truth bombs on me all the time, and it just brings us closer. Best bitches don’t lie to their best bitches.”

“... Right. But, it’s kind of something for him to take the time to process.”

“What if he doesn’t? He’s just gonna like, wander around forever making excuses and being all nervous and confused.”

“Well... then we’ll give him a push. But for now let’s just... give him some space. Let him come to terms with it on his own.”

Jonah is startled out of his accidental eavesdropping by hearing himself sniffle. He quickly wipes his eyes, sticks his hands in his pockets, and hurries away. He still doesn’t know how he heard them, maybe some kind of really weird echo or sound tunnel. So he goes to the other side of the store entirely and finds the chattiest customer he can.

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He can feel Dina and Mateo staring at him as he restocks softlines. They whisper to each other, and he sighs and hangs his head. “You know, it makes it worse when you talk behind my back.”

Mateo yelps a little. He clears his throat and quickly composes himself. “Sorry. Uh, we were just talking about-”

“Yeah, no, I know. I’m... aware, okay? And I just would like to stop hearing about it for now, please.”

Mateo looks taken aback by the tiredness in Jonah’s voice, the... weary tone. Dina, however...

“Yeah, well, not exactly something to brush under the rug.”

“Why do you even care? It’s a me problem, okay?”

“Really? You think this doesn’t impact everyone?”

“How! Would it even do that?!”

“Well, let’s see! It made Mateo afraid, it made Amy all somber and worried about you, it made Glenn cry even more than usual-”

“It did?”

“He started a trust fund for your soul.”

“... Oh.”

Dina stops, her frown slowly becoming more confused. “You... didn’t realize that would happen?”

“... I don’t know, I guess I thought... thought he’d be more open-minded.”

“Glenn?”

Jonah takes a deep breath. Ugh, why’d it make his chest hurt? Why do his lungs feel like they don’t want the air?

The next thing he knows he’s done with softlines (it felt like he got done in the blink of an eye) and walking away. He swallows down the lump in his throat, and the urge to comfort eat. God, he’s craving a snack now. Well, he has all day, but he’s been... a little distracted.

“Excuse me? Hello? Hey!”

Jonah looks up at the customer, still feeling drained and empty.

“Finally, god. How useless do they let you people be around here? I’m looking for the shock collars, my dog keeps licking me when I tell him not to.”

“... That’s a really, really shitty thing to do to your dog.” Jonah doesn’t really mean to say it, but he’s just sort of on autopilot now.

For some reason, the customer doesn’t reply. Just stiffens.

“Follow me. I’ll sort you right out.” Jonah thinks he smiles at them. But he can’t be sure, because at that moment he blacks out.

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Jonah shrugs his coat on, not looking anyone else in the eye as they all file out to clock out.

He waits until the very end, and clocks out last. Maybe he can avoid them all by waiting long enough?

Ugh, he can’t. He feels restless. Looking like another sleepless night already. Two in a row, great. Maybe that’s why he had that blackout. He still isn’t sure where the customer went, nor how he ended up in the No-Go zone of the Gardening Section...

Whatever. They were a jerk, anyway. Maybe he talked some sense into them? He did that during a blackout yesterday. Maybe it’s stress, then?

He keeps his head down as he thinks about it (trying to avoid some other, more introspective thoughts) and walks out.

He lifts his head as he exits the breakroom to find everyone standing in a group, smiling softly.

“Um... what’s going on?” He claps his hands behind his back. Please don’t let this be more teas-

“We know we’ve made you uncomfortable today,” Mateo pipes up. “And after talking to Garrett about your guys’s conversation, we realized we had the totally wrong idea about everything.”

Glenn steps forward and hugs Jonah. “I accept you no matter what,” he says firmly. “I would never start a fund to save your soul for being gay, that was a complete misunderstanding! You like whoever you like, Jonah!”

“And I didn’t mean to badger you,” Dina admits with her shoulder a little sunk. “I didn’t quite understand what you were going through in your head, and I made some assumptions. Wrong ones.”

“We all care about you, Jonah,” Amy says, prying Glenn off of the poor man. “Okay? We just want you to know that. Today we were being really, really shitty. But it won’t happen again.”

For the second time today, Jonah isn’t aware he’s crying until he hears himself sniffle.

“I just- I feel really, really stupid,” he admits, wiping his eyes with his palms. He laughs, not quite bitterly, but not happy. “I mean, I’m in my thirties. I-I had... so many obvious moments where I should have realized! How... oblivious, am I?”

There’s a bit of an awkward air to the group after that comment. But Amy hugs Jonah, and he feels a little... spark, in his chest. It’s nice.

His chest has felt pretty heavy and empty all day.

“Everyone comes to terms with stuff at their own pace,” Amy says. “I lived in an unhappy marriage for years because I couldn’t accept the obvious. What matters is that you got to this point of realization, okay?”

Jonah hugs back. He thinks he feels Amy shiver, but he brushes past it. They pull apart, and Jonah sniffs and wipes his eyes again.

“And I um. I-I don’t think I’m... fully, gay,” he says slowly. He hesitates, mouth open, the words stuck. “I think... I think I’m Bi.”

There’s a moment of silence. He smiles a little, and stands a bit straighter. That feels... really right. “I think I’m Bi,” he repeats.

Sandra claps for a second, but no-one joins in. She lowers her hands slowly.

“Wow! Hah! That feels- wow! God, that feels good! Um,, what-what now, though?”

Garrett shrugs. “Flirt with some dudes? Some people in-between dudes and chicks? I don’t know, man, it’s your life.”

“Your long, long life,” Dina mutters to herself.

“Right! Oh, yeah, uh... that guy! From earlier! I-I think I want to see him again. Okay, uh, I’m going to go home, and-and maybe research some local protests he might be at-”

Everyone groans a little.

“Protester Jonah is the preachiest Jonah,” Garrett says, shaking his head.

“Can he still be preachy? Wouldn’t that hurt?” Cheyenne whispers to Glenn.

Glenn shrugs. “I’ll ask Pastor Craig,” he whispers back.

Jonah doesn’t even notice. “Okay! I’m going to head home! I kinda feel like, I don’t know, like this is a whole new chapter in my life! Um, how do we- I mean how do- do we do a group hug, or-or maybe a high-five-”

“Or we just head home.”

“Yeah, no, Garrett’s right, head home. Let’s all head home!”

They all head out to their cars. Jonah gets into his, plops down into the drivers seat, and grins.

What a freeing realization! He doesn’t know how he missed it, it was all so obvious!

Well, as far as he knows, there’s no other huge life-revelations waiting for him. He’s figured it all out, finally.

He starts driving home, humming along with the radio as the car next to him keeps pace, despite being in the faster lane. He never understands why people do that when the roads are empty. He chuckles to himself. Maybe he’ll realize that Life Mystery tomorrow.

What he doesn’t realize, neither when he gets home nor when he wakes the next morning, is that he never turned his own radio on.

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mae-gi-writes · 4 years

Text

Awkwardly In Love | Mingi (ATEEZ)

Volleyball player! Mingi can’t seem to take his eyes off the girl on the bleachers whose got her nose stuck in her book.

Genre: FLUFF AND CUTE AWKWARD MINGI SBGKJDGJ I CAN’T HE RUINS ME.

Word count: you just gotta know that it iz quite a long ride. I apologize for that.

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She's always got her nose buried in her book.

That's what catches Mingi's attention at first.

See, he's not one to read. Nor does he have any interest in reading and books and the things that come with it. Growing up in a household full of children involved in physical sport, books had counted for nothing but a minimal afterthought. That, and the fact that their financial struggles made it so that they didn't spend on books if it could be helped.

So seeing her always carrying around piles and piles of books has Mingi wonder how much extra cash does she have to spend on all this imaginary stories.

When he realizes that the reason she's always on the same spot on the bleachers is due to her cousin being in the same volleyball team as he is, he can't help but start asking questions.

"Yeah she's my mother's sister's daughter," Hongjoong says with a small affectionate smile, "we basically grew up in the same household so she waits for me after classes."

"You guys close then?" Mingi asks in a forced nonchalant tone. He keeps his eyes on the ball being served on the other side, palms already closed and upturned at the ready.

"Ready?" His teammate calls.

"Yeah!" They both holler.

He serves. The ball swoops in a beautiful arc and Mingi steels himself before receiving the ball with trained precision.

Pack!

"Closer than siblings," Hongjoong answers as the ball flies over the net, "why do you ask?"

Mingi is about to answer when he spots the ball. Hongjoong sweeps in, steering his legs to tap the ball high in the air.

Tap!

Mingi's head swivels up, catches the ball to throw it back at Hongjoong.

Pack!

"In!" The referree calls to signal that they've marked the final point to the game. The pair allow sighs to leave their lips as they slowly make their way out of the court.

"Uhm," Mingi's chest heaves up and down with effort. Sweat dots his forehead as he racks for an excuse, "just curious I guess."

"Want me to introduce you?"

"Uh-- I--That's not--necessary--"

It's too late though, for Hongjoong is already calling out her name, "Y/N!"

Her head lifts from where it's been buried in her book.

Her cousin motions for her to come forward and no sooner is she stepping down from the bleachers that Mingi's neck flushes bright red, and he knows deep down it's not from the fact that he's just exercised.

"Y/N, meet Mingi my teammate," Hongjoong's grin is definitely one that is suggestive, which does nothing for Mingi's confidence.

"Hi," she sends him a warm smile, extending a hand. Mingi shakes it and can't help but notice how tiny her fingers are in comparison.

Delicate fingers, so breakable. Cute.

"H-Hi, I'm Mingi," Oh god, he hopes he doesn't sound like an idiot.

"Mingi's always been on the team. He's the ace after all," adds Hongjoong.

"Ah, that's cool," Y/N nods.

That's how it starts really. At every practice, Mingi makes it a must to talk to her, even if it's juet a tiny greeting, or a slight wave of his shy hand whenever he's already on the court when she stumbles in with her pile of books tucked under her arm. There's just something about her, something that pulls him in like an invisible string even though he can barely make his way through one sentence when he's gazing straight into her eyes.

Once, he musters up the courage to ask her about the book in her lap and the amount of joy flushing up her cheeks makes it so palpable that he feels giddy from her own excitement.

"I'm currently reading Peony in Love," holding up the book so he can see, she continues, "it's a historical novel about this Chinese girl that falls in love with someone who isn't her betrothed, then dies only to realize that this someone is actually her betrothed."

"That's actually really heartbreaking."

"Yeah well, so are most romance stories," she shrugs, "like the titanic."

"I've never actually watched it."

"What?! You're kidding me?"

He shakes his head, ducking his head in embarrassment as he wonders whether she thinks of him as a loser because of his apparent lack of intellectual knowledge.

But instead, he is faced with her enthusiasm, "we should watch it someday! It's like a classic, you'll love it if you like dramatic endings."

"You--" he feels his chest tighten in excitement, "you're serious?"

"Of course I am! I'll let Hongjoong know."

His heart does drop a little at Y/N's cousin's name. He'd hoped that they'd be alone, just the two of them.

Nevertheless, he makes his way over to Hongjoong's flat on the said night and is surprised to find not just the pair of cousins But an entire group of familiar individuals that he's seen hanging around the corridors and classrooms.

"Hey you came!" Hongjoong claps Mingi's back as he steps into the doorway, "I invited some of my close friends too. You probably know them."

As Mingi greets the rest of the group whe exchanging soft pleasantries, he finally catches sight of Y/N's figure darting between tall frames before she emerges, grinning, "hi, Mingi right?"

He can't help but blush right down to his toes, "h-hey, what's up?"

"Sorry for all the noise. The guys just wanted to crash here. Told them we were watching titanic and they promised they wouldn't make running commentaries."

"It's alright. I know them all a little. We're in the same class."

"Ah cool. You guys all in the same major then?"

Mingi scratches the back of his head, "nah I'm in Psych. But since they're all in the sciences like Hongjoong we do have same classes."

"Cool. I wish I could've taken Psych," she puffs up her cheeks into a pout and Mingi's fingers itch to pinch her cheeks.

She can't be that cute. She just can't be.

"So are we starting the movie or what?!" One of the guys --his name is Yunho, Mingi guesses -- calls out.

"The way you're talking Yunho, it's almost like you're the one who really wants to watch it," Hongjoong replies sassily while throwing both arms around Y/N and Mingi respectively before guiding them to the tv room. He dips his head towards Mingi's ear as the group settles in, "don't worry bro, I'll make sure you sit next to her."

Blushing furiously at the older boy's comment, the latter doesn't even have time to defend himself when he is being pushed onto the couch right next to Y/N's figure.

"You a big tears kind of guy?" The girl murmured, popcorn in lap. She extends it out to Mingi, who shyly grabs a handful.

"I guess it depends," Mingi murmurs, "are there animals in there?"

"Oh so you're that kind of guy."

He flushes. What kind of guy is she referring to?

The movie starts with the narration of an old lady gazing at a sapphire necklace, bedore the screen gives way to a shot of the ship itself in all its splendour, glistening a bold black and white in the midday sun.

Mingi knows he should be concentrating on the movie. And it's true, he really should, especially when Y/N had asked him to because it is clearly a classic he can't possibly miss out on. But alas, his eyes keep dashing back and forth between the screen and Y/N's face, stealing looks whenever she is not looking. It's almost like a magnetic pull tugging his gaze back to her no matter how hard he forces his eyes away; flitting over her eyes focused in attention, eyebrows furrowed at the middle with her mouth hanging open like a child amazed with naked wonder.

What can she possibly be thinking? What is going on inside that imaginative mind of hers?

What magical dimension is she traveling to without his knowledge?

It's only when the romance between the two protagonists start blossoming that he finally tears his eyes away to focus on the movie itself, all the while sensing Y/N's heat permeating from her body to his in a way that causes a permanent flush in the back of his neck.

The movie ends all too soon, with tears in Y/N's eyes and some of the other guys as they debate over the ending and how stupid Rose was for not giving Jack some space on the wooden board.

"Well to be fair, he would've probably sunk the entire board," Seonghwa argues. He's the pretty boy that everyone knows of, the one whom every girl has been crushing on since his admittance to their college.

"If I were Rose, I wouldn't want to keep living without the love of my life," Y/N points out, "I would've drowned myself with him."

"Jesus Y/N, that's terrifying," Hongjoong says.

"It's true though!"

The look in her eyes whenever she spoke of movies was a look of naked excitement. Like now, Mingi spots the familiar fire burning through her gaze, a gaze he finds alluring on her. It's like it breathes life into her face. It's similar to the one she wears whenever she's reading.

A few days later on campus, he bumps into her hurrying out of the library as he walks in, almost sending her flying before his arm snatches out to hold her shoulder.

"Sorry," he says hastily while putting her back on her feet and releasing her like she's just burnt him.

"S'okay," Y/N sends him a reassuring smile, "where you going?"

"Assignments. I'm late on my research paper because of practice," Mingi scratches his head. He nods towards her books, "what caught your interest this week?"

"Oh I'm just re-reading A Darker Shade of Magic," she grins like a little child being caught. Something in Mingi's heart softens like butter.

"What's it about?"

"It's so cool, it's like this guy with a super cool coat that has hundreds over coats inside it. And he's a magician and there are parallel worlds that have different wavelengths of magic. So he can travel through the different worlds and--" she stops abruptly then before her cheeks colour in shades of pink, "sorry. I'm rambling again--"

"No no no," Mingi cuts her off, causing her to blink, wide-eyed, "please...continue. I--I like it when you talk about your books. You--You always seem so alive and excited."

"Oh," her face flushes even more as another troop of butterflies tickle Mingi's stomach. She's so damn cute! "Thanks...Mingi."

He tries to analyze the flickering expressions on her face, though he guesses it is close to feeling embarrassed.

"A--Anyway I--I'll get going," Mingi hurriedly says, moving past her with flaming red ears upon realizing what he has just said, only to feel her hand clamp down on his.

He turns to see her, averted gaze and all, little fingers clamped onto his shirt, "do you--do you want to...go see a movie sometime?"

----------

Hongjoong had threatened Mingi with a multitude of ways of killing him in case he broke Y/N's heart, albeit the fact that the taller man stated that no, they weren't going on a date,.and anyway flirting had never been Mingi's strongest points anyway.

"Sure. If it's not a date, what is it then?" Hongjoong had asked with a roll of his eyes.

"It's just two people hanging out," Mingi had protested through red ears and scarlet tinged cheeks.

As per the said man's suggestion, the pair decides to meet up at the cinema entrance to choose the movie of their choice. Y/N is decked in a simple white t-shirt, loose cut-off jeans with red sneakers, and as Mingi silently admires her sense of simple fashion the heat that rises through the back of his neck is enough to make him avert his gaze bashfully.

They settle on a romantic comedy and he volunteers to buy the popcorn so that she can find some decent seats. As he settles into the cinema room and the lights dim into darkness, he places the popcorn box into her hands, waving her off upon her rising protests.

"But you--"

"I'll share it with you, don't-- don't worry," he replies, hand scratching the back of his neck.

Don't sweat it, he says to himself. It's fine. It's not a date. It's just two friends enjoying each other's presence.

Halfway through the movie, Mingi reaches for the popcorn only for their hands to collide. He retracts it like he just burnt himself, causing the said girl to chuckle softly. She reaches over then, with a handful of popcorn, before plopping it straight into his mouth without warning.

Mingi blinks. Heat goes straight to his ears.

When his eyes find hers, she only graces him with a timid smile, before returning back to the movie, totally unaware that his heart is now practically galloping out of his chest.

Jesus, what she does to his heart.

Mingi has never been so whipped in his life, but right now, he's pretty certain that he doesn't mind if that means she can accept his heart.

"Well that was fun," Y/N says the moment they step out of the cinema hall, "wasn't expecting it to be so lovey dovey though."

His head ducks, "I'm sorry," he mutters, "I didn't know you weren't into--"

"Oh no no! Not at all! We both chose it. You have nothing to feel bad about!"

"I'm not that into movies," comes his mumble.

"What?" Y/N stops in the middle of the road as she blinks up at him in shock, "you should've told me!"

"I wasn't interested in seeing the movie, I just wanted to see--" he hesitates slightly, "you."

What the fuck Mingi, he feels like choking himself foe his stupidity. Why was he acting like a total turd? This was ridiculous! She's just a girl, a cute one sure, but still! It's almost like he's lost all ability to make conversation.

He tries once more, "I'm--I'm sorry I shouldn't have--“

“No, I“m the one who's sorry. Here, let me treat you. Ice cream?” and then, her eyes widen, "you do like ice cream right?"

That'a enough for his lips to tilt up into a smile, "I'd love ice cream."

---

Once they settle on a bench at the nearby park, it seems like all nervousness suddenly ease from Mingi's consciousness and slowly, he starts opening up to the said girl as they lick at their ice cream cones. The sun sets over the horizon, turning the blue sky in scarlet hues that reminds him of summer days that last forever.

"Architecture's tough but honestly, that was the only thing my parents would let me study," Y/N says, empty ice-cream stick in hand as her gaze sweeps over the park and its passerbys.

"I guess it makes sense, considering our economy recently," Mingi agrees.

"And you? Why Psych?"

He lifts his shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, "I guess I just like analyzing people. It's intriguing, knowing how people think, how they act around others."

"You want to be a therapist?"

"I don't know if I'm strong enough to help people get out of their problems when I can't even help myself."

He feels her eyes on him and finds interest in the way the wind blows across the grass blades.

Her voice is soft when she says, "you don't have to be that kind of hero, if you don't want to."

His heart swells with warmth and sudden affection, though he says nothing but nods in agreement.

It's easily past ten when they trudge back to Y/N's house, with nervousness swimming through Mingi's stomach in apprehension to Hongjoong's earlier threats, though Y/N reassures him that Hongjoong is mostly all talk and no action. That reassures the tall man slightly, until his feet start bristling upon spotting her front porch.

"Thanks for keeping me company today," Y/N tilts her head up, her profile bathed in the backlight of her house, "next time, let's not go to the movies."

Mingi's heart skips, "I didn't mind it."

"I know, but I want to do things that you like too," she grins.

A surge of courage rises through his chest as he tells her that he'd like that a lot too.

Except the thing that falls out of his mouth instead is, "I like you too."

She blinks.

He blinks back, realization settling in like a dull ache in his stomach.

Horror sweeps through him. Oh no.

It hadn't been in his plan to expose himself like this, exposing himself like a dog who wants a tummy rub, but then again there's no sign of rejection that flickers across Y/N's face, which he takes as a good sign as he fumbles for the right words, "uhm, I-- I mean, I didn't mean--"

"You didn't mean that?"

"What?" His eyes widen, "no no! Of course I mean it, I just--"

He gasps at his own words, cupping a hand over his mouth as the girl before him explodes into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

"Oh my gosh," her eyes crinkle up into those adorable crescents of hers, "you're so cute."

Scarlet pink blossoms across his cheeks. Averting his eyes, he wishes that the floor can just come and swallow him up right there and then.

"Right," clearing his throat, one hand reaches up to scratch his ear, "well, I-I'll just go--"

He's halfway turning around when Y/N's hand trickles through his, as gentle as water flowing through his fingertips.

"Wait," she murmurs.

His breath stalls. Inhaling a soft breath, he slowly shuffles back, not daring to meet her gaze when he feels like he's just put his heart on the table for her to do with as she pleases.

Her voice is a gentle breath of a whisper, "don't go."

And then, she's up on her tippy toes and pressing a light kiss to his cheek. Mingi's skin practically lights on fire as another round of butterflies erupt in his chest at her touch, and he can't help but stare down at her, jaw slack, as she gives him the shyest smile he's ever seen.

Cute! His mind screams. Cute cute cute!

"So," Mingi's mind comes back into focus upon hearing her voice, eyes finding her biting down onto her lower lip, “Well, uh--I guess--I guess this means I--I like you, or something.”

"uhm,” his ears are so hot with heat he feels they might fall off as he forces himself not to gawk at her, though it’s proving to be quite difficult as he’s trying to muster the courage to come out with a reasonable answer.

“I--well, uh--how does this--I don't know--do you want to...uh possibly,” he swallows thickly, before exhaling the words in a rush,”...goouttodinnerwithme?"

Y/N blinks in confusion, "I'm sorry?"

Come on, Mingi! He thinks to himself in growing desperation. Don't be such a wimp!

"Do you... want to...go out with me? S--Sometime?" His throat is clogged with so much embarrassment he fear he might choke.

But when he feels soft fingers trace his chin, he looks up, right into her dark brown eyes sparkling with a tinge of playfulness, excitement and naked joy brimming at the corners.

"I'd love that," she whispers.

And she lifts herself up once more to land a kiss on his mouth, softly, shyly, a mere brushing her mouth against his.

Mingi stumbles upon impact, hands unconsciously grasping her waist as his back comes in contact with the railing lining her porch.

His eyes are wide when she pulls away, biting her lower lip like she can't help but feel nervous from this bold action that has taken him by surprise.

"What--" Mingi chokes on his words, lapses into silence while staring down at her.

The girl merely glances down. A blush taints her cheeks and even though his fingers are shaking and he feels like his heart is about to jump out of his chest at the mere prospect of their closeness, his body moves before his brain does.

Closing the gap between them, it's his turn to press a kiss now, a chaste one that tells her that he reciprocates these feelings wholeheartedly. And Y/N responds by wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him closer so that their chests touch, mouths moving slowly in harmony as they chase each other and mold together in a way that leaves Mingi breathless and his heart stuttering like he's just won a race.

If it is, then it's the most importance race of his life.

It is only when they pull apart, breathing into each other with barely millimetres separating their mouths, that he can't help but laugh at the realization that this girl in his arms is his.

"What?" She says while smiling up at him. So gorgeous, so breathtaking. And she's his.

"Nothing," he can sense the heat flooding his cheeks once more, "I just-- I'm just...happy."

And there it is, that same smile that he loves so much. The smile that holds magical words and countless secrets to the amazing mind she beholds. He can't want to delve into her thoughts and pick at her brain, knowing that all of them are going to be precious memories he'll hold dear to his heart.

That smile.

Hongjoong's voice suddenly erupts out of nowhere like a nightmare, "don't think I didn't see you guys kissing out there!"

---

I’m so whipped for Mingi and he’s like 2 years younger so I feel like such an old noona *sighs*.

Anyway, let me know if you’d like more Ateez content! <3 Stay safe guys, and thanks for reading!

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jimmymcgools · 3 years

Note

Can you do a directors cut for they pay me a golden treasure?

hi! this has been in my ask box for like two weeks! i'm so sorry! my brain broke and i forgot how to think about things!

i'm glad you asked for this one, thank you so much 🙏 i'd had the first ~500 words of this sitting in a google doc for so long -- i was originally thinking of posting after i finished slip and fall season. but then my brain did that thing where i wanted everything to be exactly perfect and i kept working and overworking the first few paragraphs until way too much gluten had formed in the dough and it was chewy and terrible.

but then i took a step back and just tried to write a thing that captured all the little interesting ideas i wanted to include, and that helped me get the ball rolling.

commentary below! 💖

Two points of pressure weigh down his shoulders, as heavy as the bags of cash had been—heavier, even. It feels like he has two hands locked on either side of his neck. He can feel the man who owns the hands standing behind him, and he can hear the echo of the word wife.

this idea was one of the first things that made me want to write this oneshot -- linking this physical sensation of carrying the bags with this metaphorical way he feels lalo's control over him.

He swallows. His mouth is tacky with a sugary layer of Gatorade.

i wanted the whole thing to hopefully be SUPER sensory and way deep in jimmy's head. and this is the kinda shit that takes me longer than it should to remember. sometimes i have to just sit and think through every part of my body as if i'm in that situation and see if anything good leaps out.

He’s just standing there outside the apartment and his arms are so heavy and his shoulders are so heavy and his head is so heavy he feels as if he’s going to fall right through the ground, as if he’s going to plummet into the earth before she can even open the door.

this is one of the sentences that previously died to being overworked. i kept changing it and changing it until eventually i looked back at my very first version, which was more brainstormy note than intended prose, and i thought it was better than anything else i'd managed. so i used that!

There’s a bang and his eyes snap open. The door is widening to a square of light and his hands are in front of his chest, curling into balls.

this part is a reverse of the previous example, though! here i kept an earlier version for a while, something that started like "The door opens with a bang etc etc" and then i realised it DID need more work, it needed to be more in jimmy's head and not tell the reader exactly what was happening in the first three words.

A square of light—sand and sky and space blankets—and then she’s there, silhouetted against the white, and he takes— —one step, then the next, then the next— —through the bright doorway.

fuckin' love an em dash, mate

His legs, having delivered him here, to this final glowing space, give up.

another one of the ideas i was very excited about for this one-shot was comparing kim to the golden glowstick he holds that night in the desert! i always think about it when i watch that scene!

here's my first shot at making the comparison -- this final glowing space. for a while i wanted to include the memory of him holding that glowstick right here, so that people might link it with him holding her in the entryway, but it didn't work with the pace.

Her voice sounds like it’s coming down a long phone line, traveling through thousands and thousands of copper-lined miles. Crackling and cracking.

i'm a self indulgent lil shit so i put some references to my other fic in here. hopefully if youve read acb, this specific description makes you think of baby kim and jimmy talking softly on the phone at night.

Kim’s fingers are razors in his hair, crushing his head close against her shoulder.

another metaphor from early acb used here, which in itself is a reference to a song by the national, of course. all my fics are just a bunch of national songs stacked inside a trenchcoat

As soon as his chest touches hers, he’s clawing with tight fists at her back, holding her faster and faster, like he’s scrabbling for purchase over screaming dirt

i loved the idea of drawing all these parallels between the desert experience and his experience here. it makes me think of the split-screen opening. jimmy's dry tongue sticking to his mouth is like him trying to say the first part of kim's name. the way he hugs her is like the way he scrambles towards the esteem.

it's all entwined forever now.

From down the long crackling line, she says his name again. Jimmy. He almost can’t hear it. Jimmy.

god, i'm such a writing nerd and i love thinking about writing so much and it's like -- what does not having his name in speech marks add here? in my head it adds so much. is it real, is she really saying it? is he just thinking it? yet he says he almost can't hear it. somehow not having the speech marks also makes it feel far away to me. intangible. if she's really saying it, it doesn't feel real anymore.

i love writing!!!!

“Hey,” Kim says, her voice quiet, her eyes locked on his. The dry skin on his lips stretches with his smile. “Hey.”

would die for these two softly exchanging "hey"s.

It’s good to be close because he knows there’s something horrible trapped between their chests. Something he can feel running warmly down his white and unblemished t-shirt.

jimmy brushing his hand over the spot as they sit together on the sofa.

Like he’s something that might burn her, or something that might break. Or both—like he’s fragile and electrified.

i kind of want to do more with this duality at some point. i think they both feel this about the other. that they could burn them or be burned by them.

He wants her to cradle his cheeks the same way she always does, or stroke her thumbs over his mouth, or curl her fingers around his ears, but she doesn’t. She just holds him in her fingertips. Like water in her hands, he thinks.

more of that wild self-indulgency, but god i couldnt resist linking this moment with the first time they makeout in acb:

"Then she pulls back, breathing heavily, looking down at him. She frames his face with her hands. Gasping for breath, staring up at Kim from between her palms, Jimmy feels like she’s the only thing holding him together. Like he’s water in her hands."

the only thing holding him together.

the ", he thinks." i added in the one-shot makes me feel like jimmy's making the link too, not just me as the writer.

The apartment smells of smoke. Another thing he’s dragged with him over the threshold from the desert: one hundred thousand dollars in cash and the word wife and the smell of dust burning beneath a high sun.

of course, it smells of smoke because kim's been smoking inside, but jimmy doesn't know that

Boxers picked up and then put down in almost the same spot on the bathroom floor.

this moment always gets me. these actors are incredible. there's so much goddamn emotion in one little action.

In his hand now, the ache of a yellow glowstick. The edges of his fingers are made red with it, and his skin and bones and all the gaps between the different parts of himself are marked out with the light. He’s awake, and the yellow stick is fragile in his grasp. Glowing through the cold and the dark. Burning a ghost on his retinas. His suit jacket is thin above him, a loose sheet. The desert is loud with lizards and wind and tires wheeling over dirt roads. The glowstick is golden.

and now finally i get to this glowstick moment. i'm really proud of how i executed this paragraph. it's the writing nerd in me again. i love what the present tense does to it. to me, it makes it feel eternal, ongoing. this is how i felt okay about not setting up the glowstick thing earlier. this paragraph makes me feel like jimmy's been thinking about this the entire time.

all the gaps between the different parts of himself are marked out with the light

also the thought of like... jimmy sitting awake in the desert thinking about the jimmy vs saul of it all.

Burning a ghost on his retinas.

"Did I dream it or did I have $1,600,000 on my desk in cash? When I close my eyes, I can still see it. It's burned into my retinas like I was staring into the sun."

Kim’s face is warm against his spine. Her heartbeat seems to pulse through his skin.

more of my stolen acb lines, this from the final chapter:

"He can feel her breathing, her knees pressed up close behind his, her chest against his back. Her heartbeat seems to pulse through his skin. If he didn’t know better, he’d feel like the Sandias, like a line of protection between her and the world."

When he closes his eyes, he’s walking, he’s still walking.

returning to the first sentence here gave it all a terrifying feeling to me. like -- does jimmy feel like this moment of getting home is the dream? this looping dream?

thank you so much to everyone who read this one-shot, by the way! i was super nervous about tackling canon times, and everyone's messages have been so reassuring. i really appreciate it 💖

#asks #anon #directors commentary #that got SO long

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wovenstarlight · 3 years

Text

YWBK update: chapter 25 + liner notes

yesterday will be kinder has updated! you can read chapter 25 here, or start from the beginning here

okay, on to notes and commentary! first time i’m doing these, let’s hope this works out. commentary under the cut to save people’s dashes

Hamin laughs. “Given how bad you are at not being suspicious, that’s understandable.” “Oh, come on, I’m not that bad.” Hamin screws up his whole face in a squint. “Okay, so maybe I’m a little bad.”

this part was really funny to me when i wrote it because i was like “hmm reasons for DHM to understand why HHJ wouldn’t work in the guild” and then i was like Wait. Their Whole First Meeting, Dude. DHM was lowkey convinced for the longest time that HHJ was like, on the run from the KR version of the mafia, and got plastic surgery to look like his little brothers, and is possibly in some sort of witness protection program??? or something??? how else does he not have cops on his ass this man is so suspicious all the time

“I don’t think… They said the dungeons were, like, different worlds? Did they find people there?”

mafia theory second place. dungeon theory first place

“Like, humans? Um. No, no humans.” “So then you can’t be from there. Okay.”

dungeon theory shot down. mafia theory back in the running

“Hey,” he says cautiously. “I’m— I’m gonna go get us some water, okay? Why don’t you… take a minute.” “Okay.” “The bathroom is over there, if you need it.” “Okay. Thank you.”

after four years working alongside a guy you start to notice when he’s feeling a little out of it and needs a bit of a break... but as JHW mentions later you also learn to be a little subtle about giving him one

jung heewon What’s with your typing? It reads like Jihye’s [HYJ]’s fine. Very energetic Too energetic? He’s going to burn out. How do I make him calm down

Epic Burnout Man makes a reappearance! when translating sclass one of the things that makes me want to shake HYJ most is his habit of constantly adding things to his to-do list while he already has 1 billion things on his plate. and all the time he’s whining about “UGH there’s SO MUCH WORK to do” No One Asked You To Do It

Anyway. the point is. HYJ isn’t about to be beat by HHJ at Developing Issues 😔

jung heewon I haven’t spoken to him directly about this because if he’s anything like you he’ll take it as an insult You wtf whts tht supposed 2 mean quit typing jung heewon Better not say shit, mr “No, I can’t take days off and cater to my interests or go out with friends or on a date, I’m too busy taking care of the kids and making sure their needs are met, no I don’t care that there are thousands of people out there balancing personal enjoyment and romance and work AND kids at the same time, are you suggesting I be a BAD GUARDIAN to MY KIDS?”

see above re: not being too direct with pointing out when HHJ’s having Issues because he doesn’t react well

You wht but our eyes r fine jung heewon Even if having glasses doesn’t run in the family, you should still get him checked, just in case

top 10 funny time travel moments: referring to you and your past self as “us” (our = my eyes are fine), but other people think you mean “our family” (our eyes are fine = no family history of long/shortsightedness)

Also. Sooyoung-ie says hi [Attachment: 20XX1213_144516.jpg]

ok no lie this was one of the parts that pissed me off the most, even though it’s Literally One Line, because. i love chat exchanges. i really do. when done right they’re a lot of fun to read. But Do You Know How Long It Took Me To Figure Out A Calendar For The Events In This Fic. now everything’s TIMED i have to count HOW MANY DAYS IT’S BEEN since XY event so i can CORRECTLY NUMBER the FILE ATTACHMENTS!!! this sucks!!! it took me fucking forever to pin down a timeline just so i could write this chapter plus the few before and after it!!!!

anyway i gave up when i reached year. i just put 20XX. fuck it. we are running on fairy tail time now. (actually i think that’s XXnumber number? XX76? or was it X796. something like that. Who cares i stopped watching fairy tail forever ago)

Fuck it! Hamin will understand!! “If you Awaken you should come work with me,�� Han Hyunjae says all in a rush.

“HAMIN WILL UNDERSTAND” => he literally was cool with me giving zero context for half a dozen absolute balls to the wall nonsense bullshit things i’ve done before. he’ll be fine with this too. dog_in_burning_house_this_is_fine.png

“You already know about the guilds, those are going to be for dungeon Hunters, but I was thinking of forming something like an independent group of contractors. Awakened people with skills that aren’t useful for combat, but that might… that will be generally useful. It’d be you and me, and maybe one other guy I met recently. Probably more in the future.”

given that HHJ has no idea currently that peace exists (i’m so sorry baby i’ll find a way to shoehorn you in soon i miss you so much) he’s got no intentions to start a kiseungsu business yet! he mostly wants to live quietly while just acting as a manager for other Awakening-related services, like YMW’s forge and DHM’s tracking service, along with the information exchange/lowkey spy ring that he’s planning on setting up with JHW and the bar. since HYH is fine associating with him in this timeline, HHJ’s thinking he can get a foot in the door that way, then eventually spread out into dealings with most major guild leaders

RIP to this plan. you were well-made but you will not last long.

“Please, I can’t tell you how I know that, I really can’t, it’d put me and my brothers in danger if it got out. But—” “No need.” Hamin looks slightly alarmed, and Han Hyunjae feels himself settle at the obvious concern in his eyes.

MAFIA THEORY RAPIDLY RISING TO PROMINENCE??? THIS IS NOT HOW DO HAMIN WANTED HIS GUESS CONFIRMED

“I spoke to the Task Force Head and she said that there’s been discussion about hosting a meeting for the nearby high-rankers, where they’ll announce the guild proposal and see who else is interested in trying it out.”

“they’ll announce” i’m sorry king 💔 you deserved a nap

(OH ALSO FUN FACT choi eunyoung is a canon character, not an OC of mine! she appears in uhhh i think late 140s? 150s? something like that)

“I think there’s… probably only one other S-rank who’s Awakened right now?”

Hehehehehehehehehehehehehhehe

Hamin beams. “No, they’re doing great! Spookie’s taken really well to the new housing situation, but I think Spots might miss the store…”

shoutout to @daemonic-dawn for letting me borrow a pet name, love u king. i had a much longer ramble about pet names here but i finished typing and realized it was all entirely off topic so i removed it for convenience

Hyunjae makes an annoyed noise in the back of his throat. “Don’t— I mean.” He huffs, visibly taking a deep breath, and Yoojin frowns reflexively. [...] “Is everything alright?” Yoojin kind of wants to be annoyed at his tone on principle, but he forces his shoulders to relax, matching Hyunjae’s posture. Though he can’t stop himself from being a little short when he answers.

things the brothers have learned in four years living together: getting confrontational often leads to arguments that just fizzle out anyway, so it’s way fucking easier to consciously tone down their combativeness in advance when talking to each other about things they have problems with, instead of screaming their heads off and then having to calm yoohyun down afterwards to boot

“I guess. Whatever.” Yoojin slumps. “Can I…” “Hm?” Hyunjae blinks at Yoojin as he gestures to the spot on the bed beside him, then jolts. “Oh! Yeah, sure, c’mere.” He opens his arms, and Yoojin goes over and flumps on the bed, head in Hyunjae’s lap. Almost immediately, Hyunjae starts stroking fingers through his hair, and Yoojin relaxes into the touch, listening as Hyunjae continues speaking.

cuddles 🥺🥺🥺 sorry i don’t have any other commentary here just. cuddles. extremely and overwhelmingly comforting for a man who spent the better part of 8 years(?) with no major positive relationships, and a kid who spent 12 years of early life basically abandoned by his parents. you had best bet they gave up on not hugging each other 1 year into this whole mess

Yoojin hums in acknowledgement. It’s not like he’d ever let himself get hurt; he has too many responsibilities to his family and friends. If he wants to be good enough to keep up, he can’t afford to fuck up like that. But… hyung will worry if he keeps working so hard. He can slow down a little for him.

Problems disorder man when will you stop. the way he sees “getting hurt” as an inconvenience and an obstacle to his duties rather than a danger to himself. the way he doesn’t really care if he himself gets hurt, but if it’ll worry his family, then it’s a no-no. it’s just. wow. i know i wrote this but i hate him

“Not really. I talk to Myeongwoo about it sometimes.” “Ah, right, Myeongwoo.”

haha gays

“Don’t be weird about him,” Yoojin warns[...]. “I won’t, promise.”

if the “i won’t” line had a dialogue tag it’d be “Han Hyunjae lied”

“Is Eunwoo still in his relationship?” “Mhm, happy as ever. Apparently they’re trying long-distance, now that Eunwoo’s gone off to university abroad.”

three guesses for who eunwoo’s dating and you won’t need the first two

Hyunjae raises his hands like he’s going to deny the accusations levelled against him, so Yoojin seizes him by the collar and shakes him until he cries for mercy

oh my o/rv ass struggled so bad with not writing “shakes him like a man betrayed” here. it killed me not to. but in the end i prevailed (against, uh, myself. don’t think about it too hard.)

“Jeez, okay, he’s an F-rank!” “Eh?! Then why—” “He’s also got an SS-rank potential skill,” Hyunjae admits[...].

play-by-play of this scene because god if i draw any scene in this fic it would be this one just for the sheer hysterical nature of HYJ’s reaction:

YOOJIN: I HATE YOU WHAT THE FUCK WHY. TELL ME HIS RANK

HYUNJAE: HE’S AN F

YOOJIN: WHAT? WHAT THE FUCK?

HYUNJAE: he’s also got an SS-rank skill,

YOOJIN:

#star.txt #work: yesterday will be kinder #writing commentary #my writing #making impulse decisions today. very tired. godonight i hope you enjoy but also you'll have to enjoy without me

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elisende · 3 years

Text

Songs in the Night (3/?)

Characters: Halsin/OMC, Astarion, Wyll, Gale

Rating: M

Words: 1627

Summary: Halsin and Langoth fight for their lives--and souls--on the fugue plane while in the Underdark Gale struggles to complete the ritual to bring them back to life.

They had only to persevere long enough for revival. To clasp hands at the precise moment the last words were spoken on the material plane.

But in the shadow of the dragon’s enormous form, blasted by the heat that radiated from its black sides as though from a blazing furnace, that seemed nigh impossible.

“Behind me,” Halsin said to the ranger, grimacing against the dragon’s roar. Instead, Langoth stood beside him, drawing his bow. Although his longsword and dagger had not survived the fatal journey between planes, his ironwood bow was imbued with deep magic and a brother’s love and had traveled with the soul of its owner to this purgatory. Seeing it in his hands gave him heart.

Langoth loosed an arrow at the ancient styx dragon’s neck; it merely plinked off its armored scales.

The dragon seemed to chuckle, exhaling plumes of flame with its laughter. Your spirits will make a meager meal but there is rich entertainment in watching you struggle, at least, said the dragon. It raised one clawed foot, blotting out the grey sky and Halsin dove, a line of white hot fire screaming across the back of his leg where the dragon’s spur caught his flesh. He yelled as its poison sank into muscle--his soul, in fact, for in this plane, body and soul were one.

The pain was vivid. Halsin opened himself to it, allowed it to sharpen his focus and turned back to the dragon. There was no weakness he could perceive, no gap in the undulant ranks of its black scales. But every dragon was tender around the muzzle and this one had foolishly lowered his, the better to watch him suffer. Halsin screamed again for effect, clutching his leg and the dragon sank even lower, its face in striking range. Marshaling all of his strength, Halsin drew the club from his back and threw it like a javelin into the dragon’s nose. It struck true, showering him a waterfall of hot, black blood, like tar.

The creature’s tortured shriek was terrible as it echoed across their minds. Halsin staggered over to Langoth, both his wound and his head on fire.

“When the time comes--whatever else should happen,” Halsin said, “You must take my hand.”

Before Langoth could reply, the dragon was upon them again. It was no longer toying with them: now it was out for blood. Only luck saved Halsin from being cut in two as he dove away--this time the dragon’s claws sliced through empty air.

How much longer? Langoth asked. He wove and tumbled around the dragon’s legs, avoiding its swiping claws with limber grace that might be a dance but for the raging dragon above them.

The monster busy with Langoth, Halsin ignored the throbbing pain in his leg and closed his eyes for a moment to test the link he’d left to the plane where their bodies lay, lifeless.

...was a mad idea, what if they don’t come back at all? Across the planes, Astarion’s voice was watery and hollow, as though he were speaking from the other end of a very long sea cave.

Master Halsin’s nearly past the point of no return, looks like, Wyll said. Hells, what’s that on his leg?

Gale’s voice echoed more forcefully in Halsin’s mind. Less commentary, if you please, this does require a bit of focus, you know--Halsin, is that you? Is it time?

Almost, he thought, Be ready. He felt the wizard’s assent and turned back to the fray. Langoth had sunk an ice arrow into the dragon’s nostril and it was trying to scratch it away, howling from its sting.

Halsin dashed over to the ranger, avoiding the sweep of the dragon’s tail as it staggered and bellowed in blind rage. They would just have to hope the distraction lasted long enough to complete the ritual. Langoth looked shaken but unhurt, his keen eyes watchful. Even as the dragon roared above them, Halsin felt a surge of love, of humility in the face of its enormity: greater than any ancient guardian of the Fugue Plane, greater even than death. “It’s time,” he said. Their hands joined and he reached across the void again, to Gale.

What if it’s too late? Langoth said. He sensed the ranger’s despair.

“Just don’t let go. No matter what happens.”

In answer, Langoth interlaced his fingers and squeezed them tight. The druid shut his eyes and perceived, worlds away, Gale whispering the incantations that would bring their souls back.

Halsin, Langoth’s voice rang in his mind, sharp with fear.

He opened his eyes to see the dragon bearing down on them, its mouth open, throat welling with blue fire.

“Don’t let go,” Halsin said, even as every instinct screamed at him to break away, to dive to safety. Langoth gripped his hand so hard he feared his bones would bruise.

The styx dragon bore down on them, a gout of flame shooting from its maw. Halsin closed his eyes again. The ritual was nearly complete--a few words away, if Gale did not stumble.

I need to tell you something, Langoth said. While there’s time. I--

But before he could finish, darkness took them both.

“...breathing, that has to be a good sign, surely?”

Dim, green light danced around him. Langoth moaned and shut his eyes again. Cold, he was so cold. Everything from his waist up was agony: pain that throbbed, ached, stung, burned, and stabbed. From the waist down, all was numb.

“Langoth,” Wyll said. He heard the warlock approach but couldn’t bear to open his eyes again. His voice sounded distant. “Hells, he’s properly torn up. Here, give us that potion.”

A hand cradled his head, tipped it back, and another held a phial of healing potion to his bloodied lips. It slid down his throat and he sighed as it took effect, restoring life to his stiff limbs. A sickening crunch as his spine reknit itself and sensation rushed back to his legs. He shivered. It felt as though he’d never be warm again.

“Halsin,” he said, remembering. The fugue plane, the dragon, the blue flames--he struggled to his hands and knees and collapsed with a groan.

“It’s alright, mate. Halsin is just there, look.” Wyll pointed to the other corner of the courtyard, where the druid was staggering to his feet, shaking his thick mane of hair and rubbing his face. Langoth sank back down in relief. They had made it, somehow.

“I’m fine too,” Astarion said. “If you were wondering. I also nearly died, on your behalf. Again.”

“Thank the gods,” Langoth rasped with a smile. He shut his eyes and breathed deeply--real air, again. Even though it was centuries stale and stank of fungus and dead minotaur, there was no sweeter smell.

“Actually, thank Gale,” the wizard said, approaching with Halsin by his side. “It was a very near thing, indeed. Suppose I owed you for all the times you’ve pulled me back from death’s door.”

The druid leaned over him and took Langoth’s icy hands between his own. “Thank you,” Langoth whispered.

Halsin laid a hand on his chest. “Don’t speak. You need food. Your soul has been too long in Kelemvor’s kingdom and needs to be fully restored.”

“And nothing better for that than a nice warming mug of soup,” Gale said. “I would know. I shall see to it.”

An arm around Halsin’s waist, Langoth limped past the minotaur corpses laid out on blood slick flagstones to sit in the fort’s cozy refectory by the fire that Gale had set roaring with a cantrip.

“Rest here,” Halsin said, helping into a dusty leather chair which was surprisingly comfortable, considering its age. “But don’t sleep yet. Your soul’s connection to your body is still too tenuous.”

“Stay with me?” he asked. Their eyes met and warmth spread through him; heat not just from the roaring fire. Gale busied himself nearby with the cooking, humming tunefully as he banged pots and spoons and asking Astarion if he might use his dagger to mince the garlic.

Halsin eased down beside Langoth on a rickety bench, favoring one leg.

“The dragon?” It still hurt to speak.

Halsin nodded, wincing as he settled onto the bench. “It will mend, in time.”

“Did I hear the word dragon?” Wyll said. “I think that might be next on my list, having taken down a minotaur single handedly.”

Astarion shot him an acid look from across the room.

“Well, almost single handedly. Alright, you lot all helped.”

“Your magnanimity, Wyll, is as ever, inspirational,” Gale said, magicking a stream of hot water into the cookpot.

Langoth laughed, and felt a little warmer still. It was good, he reflected, to be alive. The heady scent of garlic and onions sizzling over the fire reached his nose and his stomach growled.

“Well, our foray into the Underdark is off to a wonderful start,” Astarion said from the shadows. “I just can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings. Perhaps decapitation?” He met Langoth’s eye.

“Stop sulking in the corner, Astarion,” Langoth said. “We survived, didn’t we?”

The vampire spawn scoffed but he approached and even sat on the bench with Halsin. At the opposite end, but it was a start.

“Mad idea, coming down here,” Astarion said, looking moodily into the fire. He turned to Langoth and with unexpected emotion said, “We almost lost you.”

“Well, you didn’t,” Langoth said. “And we will make it to Moonrise Towers.”

He did not fail to observe the expression of foreboding on Halsin’s weathered features. He’d never seen the druid look so tired. Again, he perceived there was something he was holding back, some unspoken burden he carried. Langoth took his hand but he only patted it absently, staring into the dark.

#halsin #bg3 halsin #fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 fanfic #halsin/omc #langoth #baldur's gate gale #wyll #astarion

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kcystotheheart · 4 years

Text

{🍎} I don’t feel like i got all of them but MASSIVE TAG DROP/DUMP

♡ Home is where the Heart is... {IC}

✧ I foresee the end of all I know... {Ava}

#☪︎I'm howling with the wolves {Fida}

#✦ Breaking Traditions {Sub Alt V.} ⚔︎

#☮︎You are the future; the hope of this world... {Hope}

#♟Hidden from the rest of the World… Until now {Wandering V.} ✧

#🍎of someone's eye {Mun}

#✎ We may feel out of place; but we fit together so perfectly... {X Ventus} #♔♡ Eventually we all return to it... Kingdom Hearts {S A V E D} #⚖︎ I will keep a just and fair eye... {Invi} #♘ They look to me for Guidance... {Ira} #Heartless; Dusks; Unversed? All the same {Anon} #❥ ANSWERED

#✎ He's a work in progress and that's what matters! {Vanitas/tenebrxsus}

#✎ The Light to my Darkness; he makes up what I lack... {X Vanitas}

#✧ He may be all brawn; but he has the biggest heart {Aced/ursaced}

#✧ You wouldn't hurt me; I know... {X Aced} #✦ The Beginning of it all… {Past V.} ♙ #➳ All right; No more playing around! {Hayner} #♡ It's time to strike {Open Starter} #♔ Beyond the realms... {OOC} #♥︎ I'll find my way... {Riku} #✎ Let's make a promise; To hold each other through it all {X Riku} #♤ I won't fade away so easily! {Lingering Remnant!Vanitas} #♠︎ Different from the rest... {Springy/Hareraiser} #♥︎ Once a Somebody... now a Nobody {Nobody V.} ♤ #✦ A little Generosity never hurt nobody~ {Cari} #✦ He thinks he's sooo good; but I know he's bad~ {Indus/ursaced} #✦ Momma I'm in love with a criminal; I'm the bad guy duh~ {X Indus} #♡ We'll never let the darkness consume us... {Queue}

🎲 May Lady Luck be on your side~ {Fortune} 💘 No matter what happens i’ll always be by your side {Faith} ⚔️ That was undeniable proof that we totally owned you lamers! {Seifer} ⌨️ Cracking the {Code} 🌱Rough around the edges by soft on the inside [Jagged} 🌿 My Strength will help support them… {Aced} 🌟 I will always help the weak {Starlight} 🍃I’ll sweep you up and leave your head spinnin’! {Wind} 🛡 I will always defend them {Keeper} 🃏 Care to take a Gamble? {Luxord/Ordul} 🎵I can drop a beat {Demyx/Dyme} 🎼 Let me play a song for you~ {Arpeggio}

⚠︎ You make me feel things I thought were lost {X Lauriam} ♟ More alike than you know {Rei/solaimaginem} ✎ Even after all this time… we’re connected. {Terra/willfulwayfarer} ✎ We’ll find new secrets to discover… together! {Pence/dxgstreet} ✎ I want to capture this moment {X Pence} ➸✮ Blessed or Cursed with magic that runs within him {Magia} #🎐My Lazy Companion {Sir Snugglesopholis the Flood} #♝ I will prove my worth... {Xionort} #𝒳 No one will know... {Subject X V.} ⭑ #No longer Lost {Naminé; Vanitas & Repliku } #✎ We've had tough pasts but we can move forward {Aiden/lethargic-hunter} #♟We've cut our own strings and now we're free {Xion & Repliku} #Made a sacrifice {Repliku} #Always busy saving everyone else... {Aqua} #☯︎ Disciplinary Committee {Fuu; Seifer & Rai} #yOU leFT mE... {Nightmare Chirithy}

#Why does everything involve running? {Pence}

#Not your Typical Princess... {Kairi}

#Fun and Playful; Strong and Powerful {Ventus}

#♠︎ A little noisy... {Skitters/Flood}

#☓ Always watching; always seeing~ {Master of Masters}

#⭑ How bright is the future? {Skuld}

#♚ Stuck in Between Worlds... {Lingering V.} ♤

#✨I'll learn to use my magic for good {Apprentice V.} ✎

#✎ He understands me like no one else does {Max/pageofgoof}

#🍀I've got a present too; for all of us! {Olette}

#He once wandered the darkness seeking light; only to find he was the light {Riku}

#His smile brings about other people's happiness {Sora}

#👁‍🗨If only I could stand in her light... {Ava/verumheart}

#👁‍🗨If I could begin to be; half of what you think of me I'd do about anything {X Ava}

#🍀She sits by the Seashore {Kairi/thalassicradiance}

#✎ I'll never forget you; promise? {X Sora}

#♜ We all have our Roles to Play... {Foreteller V.} ♠︎

#♗ I have made mistakes & have more regrets than you could imagine {Master Eraqus}

#One of the strongest wielders there is {Terra}

#🎐My lovely little Pearl... {Kairi/thalassicradiance}

#♡ Something that simply resonates with me... {Aesthetic}

#➦ Portal Time {Shooter}

#➥ Eagle Eyes {Sharp}

#🌪Whispers on the Wind {Gale}

#♤ The Nobody that never was... {Kuxir}

#🎐When things are tough; I'll always welcome you home... {Ansem/afoolelopedindarkness}

#✦ I have to complete my role... {Sacrificed V.} ✧

#♡♔ Kingdom FARTS {Crack}

#♟No longer just a vessel... {Xion}

#♣︎ No one would miss me... And yet... {Roxas}

#☀︎ I always keep my promises... {Axel}

#⌁ I have to uncover the truth... {Gula}

#⚠︎ I will find a way to rewrite my Fate {Brain}

#☆⭒ A lost little Star {Strelitzia}

#♚ The Darkness has consumed us… {Alt V.} ♥︎

#{Headcanons}

#☁︎ Where there's rain; there's a storm {Rain}

#🌸As Pretty as a Flower but twice as Dangerous {Song}

#✴︎ May the Tears of Heaven hear my call... {Sterling}

#❅ Her Colours are a reflection of who she is {Aurora}

#✵ Hear my prayer O'Morning Star {Ivory}

#♾You'll never hear their name on the wind... {No Name}

#⚡️The Eye of the Storm {Tempest}

#✑ You write down your feelings on paper {Memoire}

#☆⭒ A Light in the Dark... {Roxas/aftrliight}

#👁‍🗨 It's a heavy burden to carry... {Luxu}

#♥︎ He has every right to be mad at me; but i had to do it {Roxas/caelumobscura}

#♥︎ Twilight and Dawn... What an interesting combination {X Roxas}

#☘︎Oh Look- Nope it's just them... {Dani}

#♣︎ There's just something about him that i hate... and i love {X Riku}

#✎ You remember me; the way I remember you {X Roxas}

#☆⭒ He gives me the courage I need; she is always so kind... {X Roxas}

#☆⭒ Let's go to the garden... {Lauriam/lordofoblivion}

#✘ There is always something worth fighting for... {Kohaku}

#♡ No longer just a Copy... {Repliku/Kouki}

#⚙︎Just because I'm not a 'True' Keyblade doesn't mean I can't kill you {Void}

#♥︎ You and I; were intertwined from the start... {X Kairi}

#♡ These will make anyone laugh! {Memes}

#✬ Here to help! {Chirithy}

#🌼You'll never learn from your mistakes if you don't make them {Ayaka/Roxas' mom}

#♔♡ The Mark of a Master~ {P R O M O}

#✿ Thinking of you wherever you are... {Hana/Sora's Mom}

#♤☆ When the Light embraced the Dark... {Mending Hearts V.} ★♠

#✎ He wants to break the mold {Roxas/serendimpetus}

#🗝🖤The Kingdom's Protector and the Original Blade {Chi}

#♔ Mirrored Reflections; Two in the Same {Twin V.} ♡

#★ I'll be there to hide your light when you need it {Dusk}

#♻︎ I'm not even the real thing...And yet in my soul it says otherwise {Soul}

#✩*~ I'll unlock the mysteries of the world {Ephemer}

#♠︎ Made completely out of Darkness {Vanitas}

#✩*~ We'll meet where the darkness meets the light {X Vanitas}

#➳ Skateboard tricks and Sea Salt Icecream... {X Roxas}

#♡ Let's line up the pieces... Together {Main V.} ♔

#❁ He'll always be my little Sprout... {Kasumi/Riku's mother}

#❁ To trust or not to trust is the question... {Xemnas/potestasaeterna}

#♘ He trusts me to look after everyone; but who's going to look after him? {X Master}

#♘ Always one step ahead... or two- or three {Master/masterxmasters}

#☾ The path between Night and Day... {Dawn}

#♡ A Watchful eye... {Dash Commentary}

#☯︎ Total Annihilation {Fuu}

#✎ Don't forget me... {Naminé}

#☄️ I will always rise up from the Ashes {Libra}

#🔥Better watch out because I always bounce back {Ember}

#💥I will burn Eternally {Flame}

#♕ Together we'll protect the world! {Kiki}

#♛ We'll free their hearts and consume the world in darkness... {Heart!Kiki}

#🍨Not just a sweet treat~ {Sweetie}

#♜ I'll protect you from the Shadows {Oblivion}

#♖ Just follow my Light {Oathkeeper}

#♥︎ No matter the Nightmare; I'll be there {X Ventus}

#♠︎ A little noisy... {Skitters/Flood}

#🎐When you feel it in your heart; you know that your home {Mitsuki/Kairi's Grandma}

#❁ He's my stubborn Rock. {Roxas/aftrliight}

#💥She rises with the moon {Luna/verumheart}

#♧ Even in your dreams... {Dream Eater V.} ♥︎

#🍡 Cheeky Cheel {Leche}

#❦ There's more to Light than meets the eye {Young Eraqus}

#❦ And that's checkmate I win; Hold on it's still my turn {X Young Xehanort}

#The Copycat Trio {Repliku; Vanitas and Xion}

#Created with a purpose {Vanitas}

#🐶Watch out for the Mad Dog~ {Mady}

#➸✮ Reliable and Sturdy as the Shield he carries {Aegis/verumrook}

#➸✮ I shouldn't feel this way but I do... And I don't want to stop {X Aegis}

#✘ ...I will protect his light with my life... {Artemis/keyfamilia}

#✘ I don't know what he sees in me... but i'm grateful {X Artemis}

#🗝🖤A shroud of Mystery and Darkness {Master of Masters/eyesofparoxysm}

#🗝🖤The one who compliments me; who truly understands {X Master of Masters}

#✧ He's a good listener and a good friend {Luxu/gravitasfatum}

#✎ What did I do to deserve you...? {Riku/darkheartedprince}

#♔♡ It rests now within us all... {Drabble}

#💚As playful as a breeze; but as strong as a gale wind {Ventus}

#💫Not even the Night Sky could contain her Light... {Astraea}

#🍏A Bad Apple spoils the bunch {Negative Thoughts}

#☀︎ Set me ablaze; start a fire in me {X Terra}

#☀︎ He's my pillar when I'm not strong {Terra/willfulfwayfarer}

#🎐Just like the Stars; He will burn long after... {Yen Sid/omnipotentmxster}

#☀︎ Never expected to fall for a flower {X Marluxia}

#☀︎ Every Flower has it's thorns and he's full of them {Marluxia/lordofoblivion}

#✿ My Little Sparrow {Sora/lightheartedwarrior}

#❁ My Little Sprout {Riku/darkheartedprince}

#🎐If we keep each other in our hearts; we'll always be strong {Young Mitsuki}

#🎐The Stars align when he smiles... {Young Yen Sid/omnipotentmxster}

#⚚ I'm sending a message to you and I hope that it makes it through {Hermod}

#⭑ He could light the sky with his colours {Sora/valorxdrive}

#⭑ He's my knight and I'm his princess {X Sora}

#⭑ We both just wanted a friend... {Blaine/virusplanted}

#⭑ The future may be uncertain; but I'm certain of us {X Blaine}

#🧶Tying the knot {Married V.}

#♔ In another World; another Time or another Place {AU V.} ♡

#⚖︎She moves with the beauty and grace of her namesake {Aqua/theheartstreasure}

#⚖︎I certainly don't know what I did to deserve you; but i'm grateful {X Aqua}

#⌁ The only one I'll always trust {Ava/starshold}

#❀ Careful the Flowers have ears {Foxglove}

#☆⭒ He's my bookworm... {Blaine/virusplanted}

#☆⭒ One day I saw him there and couldn't help but gravitate towards him {X Blaine}

#♔ A World without Magic... {Modern V.} ♡

#🎐An old friend and fellow Master {Eraqus/eraqus-the-defender}

#❦ I wish I was enough to keep you from the Darkness... {Young Xehanort/iuvienis}

#🌕A place where all hearts are one... {Kingdom Hearts}

#🔮The Mistress of Darkness {Maleficent}

#🐚Overcame the Impossible {Maryllis/Kairi's Mother}

#🌊I will do my duty to protect the people {Nalani/Destiny Islands Mayor}

#🥀Poison runs through their veins {Vera}

#✩*~ He's the smartest guy I know {Brain/virusplanted}

#✩*~ We'll always be connected; no matter where we fly too {X Brain}

#🐚His Majesty and My King {Ansem/afoolelopedindarkness}

#🐚Two halves of a whole {X Ansem The Wise}

#✩*~ Flowers can be strong so long as you let them {Lauriam/lordofoblivion}

#🐚My Precious Treasure {Kairi/thalassicradiance}

#🐚Like Mother like daughter {Maryllis and Kairi}

#🎶Listen to my Melody {Maestro}

#Before Summer Vacation is over; we should go to the beach! {Twilight Town Gang}

#♘ More important than he realizes {Kage/thechessboard}

#✩*~ I use to think Dandelions were just weeds; I think they're beautiful {X Lauriam}

#📓Don't always believe what you see... {Lexicon}

#🌹Strong and Elegant {Rose}

#⚠︎ Infuriating and yet... He's Mi Rosa {Lauriam/rxsoideae}

#✧ She's as strong as she is beautiful {Aqua/theheartstreasure}

#✧ She makes me feel like a princess; she gives me hope {X Aqua}

#✎ We will always have each other's backs {Naminé and Aiden}

#☆⭒ Wallflower friends {Luxu and Strelitzia}

#The Darkness gave us purpose... {Dark Repliku; Vanitas & Xionort}

#Let's go to the beach {Axel; Xion & Roxas}

#⚔︎Childhood rivals to lovers {X Hayner}

#⭑★ Fallen Hearts turn to Dark Stars… {Darkling V.} ❤︎♥︎

#⭑ ...Unknowingly My Protector... {Braig/freeshooterxig}

#🍀We're stronger than we look {X Kairi}

#♟He isn't all darkness... {Vanitas/unversedshadow}

#✧ My precious Snowflake Dandelion... {Theo/keytosolidarity}

#✎ She was my light; He was my knight {X Repliku}

#//i really hope i got most if not all of them #//but i feel like i'm still missing some;;#//do not click unless you wanna be scrolling for awhile

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mutantsrisingrpg · 4 years

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Congratulations ABBY! You’ve been accepted as MARS with a FC change to HUNTER SCHAFER.

Abby, we’re excited to have you back, and we’re excited to have you gracing the dashboard with Yvette! Her life’s story flowed so well, I felt as if I could envision it like a movie - of course, it’d probably be one that I cry during, but that’s besides the point. I’m a sucker for the little things, and those headcanons, from her favorite things to her laughter, just made me envision her that much more clearer and really makes you see her as a person, not just a character. Welcome back!

Welcome to Mutants Rising! Please read the checklist and submit your account within 24 hours.

OUT OF CHARACTER INFORMATION

NAME / ALIAS: abby

PRONOUNS: she/her

AGE: 22

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: EST, 6-7/10 – What is time these days? I’m still a full time grad student, but with everything the way it is i’m pretty much on my computer all the time, which means I can be better involved in the gc ( hopefully ! ). In terms of replies, I’ll either be cranking things out on the dash in the mornings or at night after dinner (8-9pm onwards)

IN CHARACTER INFORMATION

DESIRED ROLE: Yvette Diandra

GENDER/PRONOUNS: trans woman & she/her

DETAILS & ANALYSIS:

Calm like a bomb. The only tick tick you’ll get out of Yvette is her heart thrumming when her hands lift off the handlebars; when her smile splits for a second – all teeth. There’s nothing overtly dangerous about her: a young woman grown upright into adulthood, all legs and elbows and big eyes, searching for soft spots between your ribs. Mischievous, maybe – up to no good, certainly. She smiles like she’s got a secret tucked under her lip, more than just the tattoo she got drunk on her 21st birthday reading PUSSY in blurred out ink ( you are what you eat, right? ).

There’s an uptick to her brow to tell you she’s unimpressed; a shrug in her shoulders that says she couldn’t give a shit what you say, really, but a nod and another nod until she can roll away from one palm-flanked street to the next. She’ll keep it that way – a slow blink like a cat’s to say, i trust you, a hand extended with a joint between her fingers. You know she’s whispering about you when she turns to giggle in her friend’s dark hair, but – come on. She looks like she’ll bowl over with a strong wave; how much damage can she really do?

She doesn’t use her powers often, a clean and tidy life that comes at the expense of control. She’ll say it’s because her powers are messy. The truth is she’s never been terrified of anything like she is of herself. She knows what her blast radius is, knows how easy it is to crush things, like a petal in her fist. She knows the shrapnel never really comes out; you can’t get unfucked, you can’t put all that toothpaste back in the tube. You sure as shit can’t walk across the bridge, on fire while you hold the blown-out match. It’s fine. It’s all fucking fine. Yvette clamps a bear trap on her own foot – not because she likes it, not because it’s convenient. Because the alternative, is, frankly, a lot of fucking work. Yvette is good at breaking herself apart, less so at putting herself together. The drop is always easier than getting back up.

The fearlessness – as congenital as the atoms in her body, shivering to split and reshape like waves on the surf – comes out in other ways. No helmet on the on the hill that drives straight down to the beach. Sketchy deals with friends of a friend of a cousin of a diagonal neighbor. Nights lost to glitter and the burn of liquor on her tongue, unsure of the time between the club and the beach and her bed. Mornings split like a snowcone in the sky, and the rest of the day lost to sleep. Petty theft. Cruel giggles poorly stifled in the back of her hand. Fun that’s really only fun when you aren’t at the receiving end of it. Testing the edges of control like dipping your toes into a riptide.

BIO:

Trigger warnings for: still birth, abuse, drug use

Yvette is born screaming. Peals of it, unfurling from her tiny, toothless mouth. Despondent – no nurse’s finger or nipple in her mouth would quiet her. Eight years or so later, over three fingers of bottom-shelf whiskey and a chain of cigarettes that should’ve put her in a grave, her mother mentions offhand it was just Yvette overcompensating, as usual. It’s the first time she hears about her brother, pushed out between her desperate wails; born sleeping. Yvette swallows this like she does all her mother’s bitter commentary – wide-eyed, slim fingers wrapped around her blue plastic cup, knees drawn up and chin nestled between them.

Things were easy, then – on the bicycle of their lives; two wheels holding up the frame in equal measure. At least – that’s how Yvette remembers them, and refuses to remember further. Texas was honey-sweet and bourbon-rich; Yvette was raised between their dry front lawn and the neighbors, the block a kingdom for her bare feet to conquer. She was a wild thing, then, wiggling in her mother’s hands and in a furious race with the sun. The problem with the sun is that it goes down. The clock stops ticking at midnight, and the candles blow out. The screen door swings shut.

Yvette makes no secret of her dislike for Mom’s boyfriend. He’s tall and broad, with mean eyes like Mom taught her to look for. His hands are cracked and he smells more of cigarettes than her, too; reeks of them, and maybe that’s why Mom likes him so much – she thinks she can smoke him down, too. Yvette’s never had a taste for tobacco, not since she went to school on the first day of fourth grade and all the kids next to her held her nose. The only time Mom’s ever slapped her was when Yvette crushed all the unused packs under her boot.

So the first boyfriend is a bust, but it doesn’t stop Mom from bringing home the second or the third. By the fourth Yvette’s on the cusp of something she can’t quite reach, and she knows enough from her skimmed physics book to understand insanity. This time, she shuts the bedroom door and says nothing. Doesn’t stop Mom from falling back into the pendulum swing, though, and this time the speed picks up. Boyfriend Five nearly kicks her door down when all their friends go home and Six takes a fist full of her hair before Mom can stop him. She doesn’t wait to see what special brand of asshole Seven is – peel back the label and it’s all the same dented can.

Miami was an inside joke – another liquor-based confession Mom made on the couch with a smoke in her hand. It was a place to pin all their secret wants and wishes. You could be something, in Miami, something warm and pink and sun-dusted, a place where the sun doesn’t set and the sand is warm between their toes. A pipe-dream, Yvette echoed back and Mom nodded. Now, with Boyfriend Seven’s cash in her pocket, a bag on her back, and the rest of her life literally up in flames – why the fuck not? Everyone was always telling her to stop letting the world happen to her.

There wasn’t a lot Mom was right about – not Yvette’s dad, or her name, or any of those shitbags she ever brought home. She was maybe a little bit right about Miami, though. It was flamingo-pink and glittering. And no one gave a single shit. Not when Yvette grew her hair long, or rolled up her skirts, or walked into Planned Parenthood with her heart in her throat.

Mom finds her, eventually. It’s hard not to when Yvette made no secret of it and tended to implode her life every six months or so. It was all very dramatic – lots of wet mascara, tears, hands clasped in front of her like she was about to mutter six Hail Mary’s. The last boyfriend – was it Ten, now? Eleven? – finally put his hands on Mom and apparently that was something of a wakeup call. Not Yvette, gone in the night, with their cash and the garage like ground zero. Not all the times the kitchen vibrated like the base of a volcano, seconds from exploding. Still, Yvette opens her door. Mom sleeps on the couch now, goes to work with few words while Yvette sleeps in. They don’t say the M word. They don’t say the F or the H word either. This isn’t home and they aren’t really family. Yvette’s control is thin like fishing line. These days, to be honest, they don’t say much at all.

EXPANDED CONNECTIONS:

Hana Mercado: There is nothing about Yvette and Hana that will ever be calm and peaceful. From their first collision, like flintrock to tinder, Yvette knew she was going to love this stupid bitch forever. They’re like a tanner, taller Team Rocket – or Thelma & Louise, though Yvette doesn’t give herself too much time to contemplate which side of the hero/sidekick coin she falls on between the two of them. The honest to god truth is that there wasn’t much Yvette had before Hana – her mom, maybe, and 20 hours of week at the gas station where she could do fuck all and still get paid for it. It wasn’t even the power she wanted. She could feel it – maybe, buzzing at the base of her spine, but it wasn’t why, when Hana held their hand out, Yvette took it.

It was balance, restored. Yvette spent her life since eight reaching for it, open hands unmet. She thought she needed quiet, like a vacuum to suck out all the noise and rage vibrating inside her. She was so fucking fixated on it. But a counterbalance can never be empty space. Hana stepped on the other side of the scale – lightning to Yvette’s thunder; there, bright and flashing, for Yvette’s low rumble to follow. And that’s what they are – aren’t they? Storms for girls; blowing through the bay, darkening the sky and roughing up the surf; spitting out dunes like chewed gum.

But Yvette sees the way Hana’s been nudging her, pressing their foot down on Yvette’s side of the scale. They want to cut the wires, watch the clock tick down to zero, and Yvette can’t for the life of her understand why. Her whole life she’s ripped things out from the inside, ruined things to show herself she could; decided it was what she deserved. She doesn’t need Hana to do it for her, too. Yvette knows fully fuckin’ well what she’s capable of – and it scares her. The fear of it chokes her up, mangles her insides until she can’t breathe. The problem is, of course, that it’s Hana. Anyone else Yvette would’ve told to fuck right off by now – and shit, she probably already has. But Hana’s hand in hers is a grounding weight, and even without that she’s at risk of detonation.

EXTRA:

Headcanons:

-Yvette’s transportation of choice is her mom’s old roller skates that she rehabbed. She’s a frequent loiterer on the counters of her favorite skate shops, juggling wheels or messing with knuts and washes. As a result of both her hobby and general lack of care for her own wellbeing, she’s often sporting bruised knees and hands and a fair amount of road rash.

-As a natural consequence of her lack of experience and control, Yvette has set fire to a number of various buildings and infrastructure, including but not limited to: her mom’s garage, three gas stations, the neighbor’s yard, a playground swingset, herself (once, technically), two jetties, and some of Tatiana’s plants. She’s never been charged with arson.

-She has a habit of laughing in grossly inappropriate situations, and despite literally everything else about her that says otherwise – it’s almost never on purpose. It’s an anxious habit Yvette doesn’t know the origin of or how to stamp it out, but regardless: nervous, angry, scared, or frustrated, Yvette is going to laugh. Probably in your face. She might even feel sorry about it, but usually only if it gets her in trouble ( which, as one might expect, it very often does )

-The quickest way to Yvette’s heart is between her ribs and under her breastbone, but also: vaporwave edits of pop songs, alaskan thunder fuck, sour apple jolly ranchers, holo stickers, Bombay Sapphire gin, karaoke on acid, 80’s night at the roller rink, fresh blackberries, retro movies with running commentary, white samoyeds on walks down the boardwalk, really really dumb fucking puns, and the occasional baseball bat to an old tv screen.

Character parallels: Amma Crellin ( Sharp Objects ), Effy Stonem ( Skins ), Jules Vaughn ( Euphoria ), Ilyana Rasputina ( X-men ), Amy Elliot Dunne ( Gone Girl ), Lemony Snicket

This is so dumb but I basically see Yvette’s mom as an older Dakota Johnson? But when she was younger she was very much Dakota in A Bigger Splash ( see here ). Alternatively, an older Yvette?

Playlist / Pinterest / Moodboard

ANYTHING ELSE:

Magneto did nothing wrong; also,

#Accepted #accepted: mars

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sunshineandfangs · 5 years

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Klarosummer - Jello Shots || Eizehu chachâm? Eize’hu gibôr?

@klarosummerbingo

This one contains religious themes, see bottom note for my title explanation. However, I am more using the mythology of beings than any type of scripture. Sorta Supernatural-esque I suppose. (But with fewer direct references and hopefully way less convolution and weird plots...) Although, how my mind went from jello shots to this... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Oh uh and a dash of angst, but it’s resolved I promise!

---

Caroline eyed the multiple mixing bowls, each filled with a different colored jello. She flitted between them, making sure each was properly stirred, ignoring the eyes she could feel burning into the back of her head. Her sorority party needed jello-shots after all. What kind of party would it be without them?

“Caroline,” a masculine voice called out from behind her, clear disapproval in his tone.

She feigned obliviousness, measuring out different ratios of water and vodka to make shots of varying potency. Red would be nearly all vodka while violet would just be normal jello. Virgin Violets, she giggled to herself, pleased with her silly alliteration.

“This is suicidal, Caroline,” the voice continued.

She hummed, turning to fetch the small 4 oz cups, only to stop short as Klaus materialized in front of her.

“Cease ignoring me,” he growled.

Huffing, Caroline crossed her arms (hugged herself) as she raised her eyebrows at him. Forced her tone to be normal as she spoke. “Well, then do something useful, Klaus, and help me make these jello shots. Perhaps, then I would have time to chat.”

His scowl deepened in the face of faux-cavalier attitude, and he waved an arm. Instead of mixing bowls, a rainbow of jello-filled plastic cups now stretched across the counter.

She sighed, stance unconsciously softening, fighting the twitch in her lip as she noticed he had organized them all by color.

It was a bit annoying (hurtful) that he had used his power, but what else was she expecting given what she had said? Still, she thanked him. There was no need for poor manners.

He just raised an expectant brow, hands now clasped behind his back. “Our discussion, Caroline?”

Swallowing, she gestured toward the living room and took a seat on the sofa, patting the space next to her in invitation. She leaned back against the arm, bracing herself for what would likely be another diatribe.

It seemed she was right to do so, Klaus right at her heels, angling himself toward her, an intense expression on his face. The last time he had looked at her like that they had been standing, his bloody hands on her arms, bodies at their feet.

Two Years Ago

Heels clicking as she sped walked through the packed streets of Manhattan, Caroline went over her day’s to-do list. Though mostly on autopilot, it was easy for her to move around the crowd, weaving her way to where she needed to be.

Heading up Macdougal St, back toward NYU, her eyes caught on her familiar suited stranger, staring at her from his seat outside one of the many cafés. As always he looked just a tad out of place.

Maybe to everyone else he seemed like a particularly well-dressed businessman, but she knew better. For one thing, he always wore the same suit, from the lightly patterned tie to how he buttoned the jacket. And more importantly, she had been catching glimpses of him and then interacting with him her whole life.

As the Forbes heiress she was used to the occasional bodyguard. They might not be anywhere near the richest people in the world, but they were still easily part of the 1%. That being said normal, human bodyguards aged.

Her mysterious overseer never did.

---

Although to say he just observed her wasn’t quite true either. Her lips quirked remembering the first time he had spoken to her. How he had crouched down beside her at the park, no one else seeming to take notice of his sudden appearance, stating brusquely that she should avoid going home for the next hour. Then, disappeared just as abruptly.

He had delivered several other similar messages until she managed to catch him off guard. Precocious eight-year-old Caroline had been a force with the way she snagged his arm in her grasp and informed him, quite seriously, that humans didn’t interact with one another like he did with her. And maybe he should work on that?

To this day, she wasn’t quite sure why he listened to her, but the next time he showed up with a warning he actually greeted her. An almost fond Hello, Caroline fell from his lips along with some inane commentary about the weather to which she had blinked in bewilderment. He then proceeded to deliver his typical message and, to her astonishment, wished her well before departing.

And over the years, she’d continue to offer him little pieces of advice. (You know smiling wouldn’t break your face? The crazy-eyed stare would be scary to normal people. Why on earth do you always wear the same clothes? (He ignored that one and the next time he showed up she rolled her eyes, commenting he could at least accessorize.) He added a striped pocket-square. (In monochrome though, he was a disaster.))

Mentioned some of her favorites parts of being human. (Determination. Passion. Ambition. People tend to want to do things with their lives, you know? I know I do.)

Even just chatted a little about mundane topics. (Have you ever tried playing soccer? Yeah, me neither. Do you have a favorite season? Time of day? Mine is Autumn if you were wondering; it’s a time of change. I like twilight for the same reason, the bridge between day and night.)

He was almost a friend by that point, for all that she didn’t know his name.

---

And, as if summoned by her thoughts (well, he probably was actually), he appeared beside her, walking in step with her as if he had been there all along.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t you get bored using your powers all the time?”

A minuscule crease appeared between his eyebrows. (Another success she took credit for. He used to be waaaaaay worse at emoting, if one could believe it.) “What else would I use?”

“Gee, you have hands, don’t you?” He actually looked down at them for a split second as if he had forgotten. “And you’re walking beside me right now. When you appear as a human does, sometimes it’s satisfying to accomplish things as they do.”

“Slowly?” He asked, sounding a bit incredulous and disdainful. (More progress! ...Kinda).

“No,” she scolded. “Purposefully.”

He still looked doubtful, but he did walk up to her more often after that. Got up and handed things to her when she asked, rather than just teleporting or conjuring them. Mentioned offhandedly, that his name was Klaus, the next time they met.

She didn’t think that one day she would come to regret her advice.

---

One Week Ago

Caroline looked around, feeling lost. Not the confused kind of lost, but the lost one feels when the beliefs they once held were challenged, broken.

He left her there.

---

This time attackers had slipped by her guardian angel (a hysterical sob caught in her throat), but they hadn’t been able to do much of anything to her. Klaus had appeared with a rustle of feathers, ripping the hearts from the two remaining attackers.

And then he had spotted the bodies already strewn across the floor. They could have been sleeping if not for their vacant stares and still hearts.

God, the way he had looked at her.

Caroline had never personally known heartbreak until that moment.

She had watched as he stalked toward her, gripping her upper arms in his still blood soaked hands.

“What have you done?” He had whispered to her, looking more horrified than she had ever seen. He had shaken her then. “What have you done?!” A shout. She had never heard him shout before. And she hadn’t understood his reaction.

“I-I was never surprised by your abilities. Surely, you knew I had my own?”

“Of course I did!” He had hissed. “But you were never supposed to use them!”

She hadn’t understood. Her voice was small as she had asked him, “Why? You do?”

“I am not like you. You are a cambion, Caroline, a threat. It has always been my duty to contain you. By God, I should smite you where you stand for this.”

A tear had slipped from her eye. “Then why did you-?” Her hand had made an aborted gesture toward the men he had killed, thought about all the years he had spent warning her.

And she had watched as he seemed to deflate and then stepped back from her.

Another crack in her heart.

“If no one attacked you, then what need would you have for your powers?” He had stared at her almost seeming sad as he said, “You were so human.” And then his expression had hardened. “Stay home for the next few days while I take care of the source. Do nothing.” And then he had vanished with another fluttering sound.

---

He left her.

The thought raddled around in her brain, and the contained sob emerged from her throat.

She sat there, in a room of dead and broken people, and cried until she had no tears left.

And then she went home.

Slowly.

---

And now here Klaus was again. Looking at her like he didn’t know her at all. (She supposed she hadn’t know him then either, had she?) Despite her facade she was breaking all over again. She didn’t think she could lose him twice.

And then, he looked away, making the most human gesture she had ever seen from him. His palm dragged down his face, a face that actually appeared tired now that she looked closer.

He looked back at her, reaching for her, hesitant. Finally, he took her hand in his and delicately rubbed the skin over her knuckles.

“You have made me a rash creature, Caroline. I was...afraid,” he uttered, sounding awed. The original meaning of the word. “But I should not have spoken to you like that. Nor left you there. For all my bravado I could not have killed you.” He shook his head. “I do not think I could have from the moment your eight-year-old self took my arm and taught me what it meant to be human.”

“What are you saying?” She whispered, a dangerous kernel of hope blossoming in her heart.

The full force of his gaze returned to her eyes, but there was no disgust or horror there.

“I am saying I want you to come with me. Not forever. Not unless you wish to,” he added in a whisper before continuing, voice firm and determined once more. “I know that no matter your powers you are not the type of threat the Host fears. But others will not. Do not. If you are with me though I can vouch for you. My name holds weight, Caroline. You could live a normal life eventually.”

A tear slipped down her face, but she was smiling.

“You are part of my life now. So don’t you dare leave again.”

He laced his fingers with hers, used his other hand to cup her cheek and brush away her tear.

“Deal.”

---

Author’s Note: Today’s title is the beginning of two different Jewish proverbs/sayings: “Who is wise?” and “Who is mighty?” respectively. The full sayings are “Who is wise? He who learns from all people” and “Who is mighty? He who subdues his passions”. The irony of course being that Klaus typically embodies neither of those things. And even here, it’s pretty debatable. Also, I know at least @thetourguidebarbie is Jewish and would know this better than me so correct me if I’m wrong here. I just went off the internet.

#Klaroline #KlarosummerBingo #Klaroline Fanfiction #Klaroline Drabbles #Klaroline Edits #Klaroline Photosets #Klaroline Aesthetics #My Writing #My Edits

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nobuverse · 5 months

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Oh crap.

The space police are here.

#ranmaru vc: please dont take me back to my home planet #Created to Serve [ Ranmaru X ]#; see the world through my eyes / watch it burn ( Dash Commentary )

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stalebreadsticc · 5 years

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“First Snow” Secret Santa

Hey, hey! @badwigbrando I was your secret santa! And I apologize for the belated gift but I wrote you a little drabble! Hope you like it! Happy Belated Holidays!

“First Snow”

The wind whips through the village with a strange unmatched vengeance. It takes the small ball of snow and throws them around without a care. Kankuro sits by the window glaring at it all, as if his stare would be enough to stop it. It was their one down-time day during their trip to the Leaf Village, and of course it had to be one of the rare times where the weather dipped to chilled weather and snowy precipitation.

Gaara had gone hours ago. The green-clad ninja had come looking for him and they both disappeared into the day without so much of an invite. Though, he knows better than to think his brother wouldn’t invite him to a friendly occasion, and the way their eyes met with one another Kankuro decided he shouldn’t intrude and invite himself. So he finds himself just staring out the window glaring at the collective swirl of snow.

The village is quiet for the most part, he hardly sees anyone wandering around, running errands, rushing home...

That is until he catches the sight of a lone shinobi trudging through the thick blanket that’s already on the ground. Kankuro blinks, watching as the boy in the leather jacket makes the trek from the street and up the steps to where he sits. Kankuro perks up, blinking as he watches him knock on the door. Lazily, he finds the will power to rise and answer the door. Something about the messy-haired man makes him have an extra spring in his step. “Figured you might be holed up in here still.” Kiba grins at him with that lopsided smile of his.

It’s contagious.

“I ain’t going out in that mess,” Kankuro agrees instantaneously with his own smile peaking through.

“Well, you can either starve here, or get food with me.”

“Both sound awful,” Kankuro teases. He earns a laugh from the other.

“So, you’re coming along?”

“I am hungry.”

The two shuffle from the room onto the elongated porch. Kankuro’s feet force him to drag them along as soon as they feel the chill on his face. But he forces them forward and soon they’re standing on the balcony, overlooking the snow-covered world.

“Where’s the pup?” He asks, quirking a brow as he didn’t see him on his heels.

Kiba points knowingly to the courtyard, where Akamaru is dashing through the show, rolling playfully and barking at particularly nothing. “It’s his day off too,” Kiba reminds him pointedly, leaning on the railing to watch the dog chase circles into the fluff.

“And, here, I thought you were asking me on a date.”

“Oh, I am,” Kiba responds with a laugh, “We just have a chaperone. We’re a two person package.”

“So, I can’t just hang out with Akamaru? Bummer.” Kankuro laments dramatically.

The two share a laugh before they kick away from the railing and begin down the steps. The moment their feet touch the chill awaiting on the floor, Kankuro almost regrets agreeing to the adventure. His groan of displeasure is masked by Kiba’s whistle to his companion, who bounds over excitedly. He circles the two as if they’re obstacles in a race track. When he stops his mini circuit, he bounds over and jumps to greet the Suna native. “Hey, buddy.” He offers a small greeting an a pat on the head before he eases the dog’s paws back to the ground.

The wind howls through the yard. Kankuro shivers.

“C’mon,” Kiba nudges him forward and the two are off into what Kankuro deems a dreary day.

He tries to quell his obvious shivers and does his best not to complain. The second seems to be harder, because he deems himself an expert at commentary. But his teeth are chattering, making it hard to mold words, even when Kiba is talking to him with idle chit-chat. He tries focusing on that and not his discomfort.

Even as they chatter, Kankuro suspects that Kiba is some type of mind reader (because it’s not because he’s showing the weakness to the cold, no way). As they’re joking about nothing in particular, his movements are slight. But after a few moments, Kankuro feels a warm feeling on his shoulders. He blinks down to find Kiba’s heavy leather jacket draped over his shoulders.

He opens his mouth to protest but Kiba speaks before him. “Sometimes I forget that stuff from our villages are so different.” He admits to him as they continue along.

“Yeah, it’s not such a shock now, so I forget too.”

Kiba offers him a smile, showing off enlarged canines. “I haven’t been to Suna in ages, so, I forget you don’t get weather like this.”

“Oh, well, you guys don’t get it too often, either, right?”

“Eh, depends.” Kiba glances over to him, keeping that breathtaking smile on his features. “But I’m more used to it than you. You good now?”

Kankuro mulls it over a moment before he sighs, “Yeah, but my hand’s still cold.”

Kiba laughs before he shyly reaches for the other’s hand. Their fingers intertwine like long distant lovers in an embrace. Their beaming grins fall to small smiles that is just shared between the two of them, alone through the snow. Their bodies inch closer, so they’re sharing heat between shoulder blades and intertwined fingers. There’s some type of potential energy that emits to kinetic, transferring in the most equal balance the world has ever known.

“You should visit more,” Kiba tells him seriously as their pace slows. The sign to the establishment is in their sights, but they’re too busy talking to think about eating.

“Things have been crazy since I became a protector and all that stuff. Not like Gaara needs protecting, but it’s better for him to have someone in his corner.”

“So… When he has things to do here…”

“I have an official reason to go on dates with you,” Kankuro interjects, nudging him playfully.

Kiba laughs, beaming at him with bright eyes. “Good. Good…” He trails off before he allows their hands to drop. “You know, come to think of it, I’m a little cold now.”

“Oh?”

“Come fix it?”

“All you had to do was ask.” Kankuro closes the space between them before he wraps his arms around his waist, feeling the other embrace him that instant. There’s a world whipping the wind around them, and snowflakes are falling in Kiba’s hair, tickling Kankuro’s nose. But that’s worlds away and the frigid temperatures are bounced off as though their position creates a shield. There’s something about him that makes everything feel warm. He’s a fire, like a burning personality that refuses to dim. It’s warming, not even just physically, but warms the heart with every smile, each laugh. His warmth is reflected in the physicality of how he’s radiating like some type of heater. The Sand ninja grins against his shoulder.

And he decides he’s glad he went out today.

#heartofthesand #secret santa #naruto #the sand siblings #kankuro #kiba #kankkiba #fluff #woop

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fishfingersandjellybabies · 7 years

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Worn To The Bones - fic

Characters: Damian Wayne, Jon Kent Pairing: Jondami Summary: One thing was clear: Jonathan could not go out on patrol like this. So Damian would see to it that he didn’t. A/N: The lads are in their mid-twenties and live together. Obviously an established relationship. I miss Colin so he’s in there. The phone call is basically Colin reiterating that he too has seen that Jon needed a break, and knew that his burn out was coming, and also for Damian to remember that it’s to be all about Jon so he can’t be a pissy royal baby about anything especially food. After they stuff their faces and watch the movie, Jon spends hours talking about his day and his feelings and probably cries a few times. Damian just holds him and listens and continues to hold him even as he falls asleep. Damian also called them both off work the next day while Jon was in the shower so they basically lay in bed and stare romantically at each other all day. Alfred purrs the whole time because he loves his human dads. Inspired by: ‘Let’s Hurt Tonight’ by OneRepublic.

He was in the living room, doing some pre-patrol yoga with Alfred the cat, when the front door opened, and was roughly slammed shut.

He carefully lowered himself down onto his knees, even as Alfred mewed and trotted towards the foyer. Damian craned his neck to look over the back of the sofa, a greeting already on his lips. He held it though, when he saw Jon’s state.

Shoulders slumped, head bowed, leaned back against the door he’d just closed.

“Jonathan?” He called quietly, gracefully shifting up onto his feet. Jon didn’t move, even as Damian came towards him. Watched as Alfred meowed some more, rubbed against Jon’s ankles. Normally, that’d send Jon into a fit of smiles and cooing. Today, it appeared, not so much. “Are you alright?”

Jon shrugged when he felt Damian’s fingers skim his arm. “Long day, I guess.”

“You guess?” Damian questioned.

“Work sucked. My boss was pissed all day. Nothing really got done. Not to mention I got in a fight with Dad over lunch. Mom is, of course, taking his side. When she’s not interrogating me about my own life anyway. Then I was going through some of the evidence on the case we’re working on right now – turns out we’re barking up the completely wrong tree. Oh, and did I mention a lady dropped her groceries so I went to help her, and she hit me with her cane? Broke my glasses. Then a cheerleader from the high school spit on me while I was waiting for a bus. I don’t know why. She appeared to be spitting on everyone she passed, including a pigeon eating a fry.” Jon sighed, ran a hand down his face. Damian only just now realized the glasses were absent. “So I’m just…tired, I guess.”

Jon finally looked up at him then, his typical soft smile already on his lips even though he clearly didn’t want it there. There were light circles under his eyes – Jon wasn’t just tired, he was exhausted. Worn out and hiding it, just like he always tried to do.

(He always failed, though. Damian always saw it. Just never knew what to say. Never knew how to help, so he just opted for the next best option – not helping at all. Ignored it and let Jon think he’d ‘pulled a fast one.’ Let him think he bested one of the world’s greatest detectives.)

“But enough about me. How was your day?” Jon tried, voice still tight, but iced with fake pleasantness. “Sorry I’m home late, by the way. But I can be ready for patrol in twenty minutes, if you can wait for me.”

Damian just looked him over. The light bruise on his head, his crumbled jacket. He could see the still-drying spit on the knee of his jeans. His nails were picked to the cuticle – a habit when Jon got nervous or stressed. Always present when the stress and nerves is caused by his parents.

Then Jon’s stomach growled.

(He said he’d fought with Clark over lunch. And the Kent boys’ arguments were legendary. Rivaled the fights between him and his own father. Could go hours. Or days. Regardless, over lunch – Jon hadn’t eaten all day.)

“Oh, you know what?” Jon suddenly waved his hand. “Forget I said that. It’s my fault I’m late, I’m not gonna force you to change your schedule just for me. Go on ahead, I’ll just catch-”

“…No.” Damian cut off, and Jon looked surprised, almost hurt. “Jonathan, we’re not going to do that.”

Jon cocked his head as Damian suddenly pulled at his jacket, tugging it off his shoulders. “Do what?”

But Damian didn’t answer. Tossed the jacket to the corner, and leaned down to pick up his cat before spinning away, back towards the family room.

“Damian?” Jon asked, remaining at the door. Damian gently deposited Alfred onto the nearby loveseat, swung around an end table to shut the open window – the one they always opened as they prepared for the night’s patrol.

“Chinese? Or Italian? Or would you like to just have ice cream and sweets for dinner?” Damian asked, pulling out his phone, dialing a number.

“Dinner…?” Jon mumbled as Damian disappeared into the kitchen. “But it’s late…? And patrol…”

“Wilkes?” Damian hummed into the phone. “Yes, we’re fine. But I’ve decided that we’re taking the night.” A pause and Jon felt his mouth drop open. “…Yes, he does, and I will see to it that he gets what he needs.” Another stop. “Yes, I’m aware. And I’ve asked him, but he has yet to answer. Please inform Grayson and whomever else you feel needs to know. Be honest if you wish to be. I’m indifferent to what you tell anyone. Mhm. Mhm. Thank you. Bye.”

Damian reappeared, hanging up the phone. Looked up at Jon expectantly. Jon could only stare at him as Damian glided back towards him. “You…We’re taking the night off?”

“Yes.” Damian said, matter-of-factly. “Have you decided what you wanted for dinner?”

“But…Damian.” Jon laughed incredulously. “The city needs us.”

“You need your rest more.” Damian countered. Reached around Jon’s shoulder and loudly locked the deadbolt behind him. Kept his hand there, his wrist brushing the hairs on Jon’s neck as he whispered: “…I need you to be okay, more.”

“But I’m fine, Damian.” Jon offered. “I told you, I’m just tired.”

“No, you’re worn out. You’re being beaten down, and pulled in too many different directions.” Damian put his other hand on Jon’s arm. Smiled softly. “It’s called burn-out, Jonathan. And believe it or not, even I get there sometimes too.”

“The great Damian Wayne gets burnt out?” Jon smirked. Damian chuckled and pushed off the door, took hold of Jon’s wrists and gently pulled him forward. “Where are we going?”

“The bedroom.”

“Damian,” Jon sighed, letting himself be led anyway. “I’m not…really in the mood for…”

“Don’t be obscene.” Damian snorted. “You’re going to shower and change into whatever you feel most comfortable in this evening. I’ll order dinner and wait for the delivery person. Then we will lie in bed and you can tell me about your day, or what you’re feeling, or nothing. We can just watch those terrible movies you enjoy, and – I swear – I will keep my commentary to a minimum.”

“…What if I like your commentary?” Jon asked. Unimportant, he knew, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Whatever you want, we’ll do.” Damian reworded. “Just so long as it involves lying in that bed and you resting.”

Jon laughed. “Damian, I’m fine.”

“And after a mandatory twenty-four hour observation, I will make that determination.” Damian declared royally, though they both knew it was a joke. When they reached the bedroom, Damian spun Jon around, in the direction of the bathroom. “Now, go clean yourself up. Take as long as you need.”

“…Okay.” Jon whispered. Then, before Damian could escape, tugged him forward with his own grip, and kissed his forehead. Lingered there, then looked down into those bright teal eyes. “Thank you.”

Damian just smiled, released Jon’s wrists, and went to dash back into the apartment. But Jon caught him at the doorframe.

“Damian?”

The other glanced over his shoulder.

“Chinese with ice cream dessert?”

Damian grinned, nodded, and turned away once more. Jon watched him go, before shaking his head and disappearing into their bathroom.

And…maybe Damian had been right. The second the hot water hit his skin, he felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. The crap at work, the crap with his family. Just…the crap. Of everything.

He could feel tears in his eyes, as he leaned his face against the cool tile of the shower. Could have fallen asleep right there. Thought about doing it, honestly. But, you know, the drowning in only a few inches of water thing. And his bed was much more comfortable.

So after what felt like hours, he forced himself away from the warmth of the water, with the idea of the warmth of his bed – and of the man he’d by lying in it with – as his incentive. Dried himself, threw on boxers, took a deep inhale. (Something he felt he hadn’t done in months.)

He was ready to relax.

But when he emerged from the bathroom, he couldn’t help but stop immediately. Freeze, as he watched Damian set up a tray beside the bed. Full of all of Jon’s favorites from the restaurant down the street, beautifully displayed on plates. A 3-liter bottle of Jon’s favorite soda – that he didn’t drink often, due to its lack of health value – sat behind the plates, on the corner of the tray. In the other corner was a brown bucket, a gallon of gelato on ice within it.

Alfred was flopped comfortably along the bottom of the mattress.

And Damian was a Bat. Damian was so focused on getting what Jon wanted and needed, that he hadn’t even turned the lights on. Just the TV, probably for background noise.

Otherwise, it was dark. And Jon realized – he kind of wanted it that way.

Still, it was a secondary thought, because his own focus was on Damian, and how kind he was being. How hard he was working to make sure Jon was okay. Turned his back on his city and his duty and the only thing he’d ever wanted to do with his life…for him.

“Why?” He whispered. Damian turned to look at him, his eyes glowing in the light of the television. Looked like stars, like the ocean. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you need it.” Damian returned gently.

“But you wouldn’t do this for…for Dick. Or for your dad or…for anyone.” Jon shook his head. “Not…not that it’s a bad thing, or it makes you a bad person, I just mean…”

But Damian smiled, and stepped towards him. Hooked his fingers around Jon’s.

“Beloved,” Damian murmured. “You are not just anyone.”

And he felt those tears in his eyes again, as he took in Damian’s words, stared at his gorgeous face. Then collapsed into his arms, clung to Damian’s shoulders, buried his face in his neck, as Damian silently rubbed his back.

“What do you need, Jonathan?” Damian asked tenderly. “Tell me and I’ll get it for you.”

“Lay with you.” Jon tried weakly, his emotions pulsing through his veins. How much he loved Damian. How defeated he felt by the world. How worn out he really was. Everything. “…I just want to lay with you. I’m so tired. Please.”

“Done.” Damian promised. Shifting in Jon’s grip only so he could lead him to their bed. Carefully, he untangled himself from Jon to pull the covers back. Let Jon crawl onto their mattress, then motioned to a plate. “Food?”

“You first.” Jon breathed, holding his arms out. Damian chuckled, and crawled into the blankets after him. Wrapped them both up in it as Jon clung to his waist, rested his head against his chest. Listened to his heartbeat and relished in the sound.

Damian wrapped an arm around Jon’s shoulders, kept him close as he grabbed a plate with his free hand. Rested it on Jon’s hip. Grabbed only one fork – a clear sign that he was going to hand-feed Jon if he so chose it.

As soon as the food was settled, Damian lifted the remote, and changed the television to one of Jon’s favorite movies. Softly began stroking his fingers through Jon’s hair as the credits began.

Jon just smiled, closed his eyes for a moment, and squeezed Damian’s hip in equal parts gratitude and adoration.

Damian just kissed his head and held him.

He was starting to feel better already.

#Damian Wayne #jon kent #jondami

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