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twinklelilstarkey · 3 years

Text

Good Girl [HC] - Part 2

Words: 1.4k+

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol consumption. Rafe is a protective mess. Kinda Rafe vs JJ.

DO NOT REPOST, REWRITE OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK!

Part 1

Your first date would start with a simple dinner out;

And end with a small walk on the beach;

Rafe would hold your hand as you two would walk silently through the empty beach that circled the island;

And not even with a complete second date, you two would start dating;

Your relationship, right off the bat, would be sooo envied by everyone in your school;

Like, you two are absolute perfection;

The island’s good girl and the island’s bad boy?

Now that’s movie worthy;

As your relationship evolved, the love you two share grew insanely;

You two would have everyday activities that were done so many times that became routines;

Rafe would always pick you up to go to school and to go home;

You two would hang out every afternoon together;

His nights would usually be reserved for his boys;

Who, by the way, love you like a sister;

Whenever Rafe couldn’t go to school, for any reason, they would hang out with you the whole day so you wouldn’t be alone;

Even though you still had your other friends;

Have lunch with you in the cafeteria or even take you out to lunch;

Those boys would always make sure you’re happy;

Once your relationship with Rafe reached a few months, he was finally able to take you to a party;

And you hate that he was able to do it;

Your parents were shocked when you asked them to go to a party at a Friday night;

And since it’s so rare, they let you go;

Rafe would pick you up and take you to the kook’s house that would end up trashed at the end of the night;

Whoever was sober enough was in shock when they saw you in there;

Like, 5 whole minutes of staring at you in shock;

Rafe would have his arm over your shoulders the whole time;

And it took you a while to actually start enjoying the party;

Since the first few minutes were filled with seeing people grinding on each other and smoking into other’s faces;

Topper would be the one grabbing drinks for everyone and he even got you one;

Rafe was the one that actually talked your way into taking a small sip to finally try alcohol;

Topper was nice enough to get you a sweet drink but the after taste of the alcoholic drink made you cringe at Rafe;

He laughed with you the whole night;

Even more when you decided to ignore the aftertaste and just enjoy the drink;

Bad way to find that you’re a light weight in your first time;

But even though it was hilarious to him, he still took care of you;

You had a good time;

You danced with some girls that you met through Topper and they also were one of the reasons why it was so much fun;

A lot of friendships started that night;

And as it got later, you started running out of energy;

Leaning onto Rafe’s chest as he talked to his friend, his hand running through your back in a comforting way;

You had to admit, it was hard not to fall asleep right there;

Rafe didn’t take you home that night since he didn’t want to make you do the silent walk of shame through the house that would surely end up in your parents waking up;

So he took you to his;

The headache on the next day wasn’t as fun;

For you at least;

Rafe finally understood why you would laugh when he was suffering in the mornings;

After that night you started going to parties more frequently;

You would still, sometimes, stay home to finish homework or just to watch a show;

But Rafe’s friends started to ask him many times when were you going to come party with them again, so that was one of the reasons why you went a second, a third and a tenth time to a party with them;

Your parents were slightly worried in the beginning but since they trusted Rafe, it was easier for them to see you walk out of the house on a Friday night;

The only night Rafe didn’t have as much fun was in a party between the Cut and Figure Eight, where the two rivals of the island joined in for a beach party;

He still doesn’t know why the party still happens on a monthly basis, since it’s just a simple, and sometimes boring, bonfire party that would always end with fights;

Quite hypocritical of Rafe, since he would usually be involved in them (when you weren’t with him);

And he disliked it more on your first time in one of these parties;

He had decided to stay (mostly) sober for the night, just in case something would go down;

You hanged out with his group most of the night, but as soon as you started talking to Kiara Carrera, Rafe tensed up;

The Pogues had no idea who you were when Kie brought you to their group, including who you were dating, since they don’t go to the Kook Academy;

And even though Kiara does go to that school, she never cared enough to check who the popular kids were dating;

So yes, this is just the perfect opportunity for all to turn shit;

“Hey Rafe, where’s Y/N?”

As soon as that girl would ask him that, as he talked to Topper, Rafe woke up to reality to notice that you weren’t meters away from him anymore;

He looked around the party to find you talking to Kiara and... JJ;

He was pissed;

But Kelce stopped him before he could go attack the pogues and snatch you away;

So, he offered to do the extraction;

Rafe stayed back as his best friend walked past the huge bonfire and kicked sand on his way to you;

If anything were to go south, Rafe, and, now also, Topper would be right there to run in;

“Hey, Y/N!” Kelce called out as he was close enough, making you end the conversation and look at your boyfriend’s friend;

“What could you want from her, Kelce?” JJ asked back;

You obviously didn’t feel the tense air building up, but everyone else from the group surely did;

As the two boys would bicker, you sipped your drink calmly and stayed lost in your thoughts;

“Rafe is looking for you, Y/N. Let’s go” Kelce would say, almost pleading;

Oh oh

That annoyed the crap out of the Pogues;

“Does he own her or something?” and “Last time I checked she’s free to be wherever she wants to be!” were just examples of what Kelce got as answers;

As soon as the tense atmosphere was more evident, Topper walked past Rafe and walked over there to try and help out his friend to not start a fight;

Leaving an annoyed and a overthinking Rafe with himself;

“Wow, does Rafe want to call any more reinforcements to get a girl?” JJ would bicker, making John B laugh at him;

“If she’s not leaving, it might mean that she doesn’t want to go hang out with your little leader, guys. Go annoy some other girl” Kie would add;

Pope would honestly just stand back and watch everything silently with you;

As they bickered the minutes away, you pat your pockets for your phone and you can’t find it;

Alcohol already affecting your mind enough to not acknowledge the argument in front of you, as well as why they’re arguing, you take a step back from the commotion;

“Wow, you guys really know how to scare a girl away” Kie would say to the Kook boys;

Both Topper and Kelce haven’t been able to say anything that would explain why they needed you to go back to the Kook’s side (example A: Rafe’s dating you), but it’s not like they didn’t try;

JJ would honestly not let them talk;

Same thing with Kie;

“Y/N, can we please go?” Topper would ask you, ignoring the girl beside him;

“Yeah, I don’t know where my phone is” You would murmur over the commotion;

“He has it!” Kelce would yell over JJ’s voice;

Everyone quiets down and you look over to the other side of the party to find Rafe glaring towards you;

You frown at him and walk away from everyone, drunkenly stumbling in the air as you made your way towards your boyfriend;

As he extends his hand towards you, you take it and lean in close to his body;

And that shocked everyone from the Pogue’s group;

Topper and Kelce would look at them in annoyance almost as if they would trying to say “We were trying to tell you this” with just their eyes;

JJ and Rafe share glares as his friends walk back to their side;

And as Rafe throws his arm over your shoulder to pull you in closer to his chest, JJ clenches his jaw and looks away;

Rafe, now satisfied, plants a kiss over your forehead and rests his chin on top of your head as you snuggle close to him;

This will be fun to explain to you in the morning.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Oh, I’m a sucker for rivalry between Rafe and JJ. Don’t judge me.

(You can request more BadGuy!Rafe vs JJ moments if you would like to see that) Or just ask for more Good Girl x Bad boy.

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#rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey imagine #rafe cameron imagines #drew starkey imagines #rafe cameron #drew starkey #outer banks rafe #outer banks #netflix outer banks #obx

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blissedoutphil · 3 years

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Tops Only

Dan’s favourite actor just opened a new bar right by the street near his apartment, and he couldn’t wait to check it out. One problem though, it was for Tops only, and Dan wasn’t one.

This day exactly 6 months ago, we had the iconic Stereo show where Phil accidentally came up with the concept of a Tops Only Bar. Which means this idea has been playing about in my head/drafts for 6 months wow where did the time go. Finally got around to properly writing it! Enjoy :)

2948 words of Top!Phil, bottom!dan, AU where everyone’s born with a Type (top/bottom/switch, not like a/b/o but similar concept kinda? the Type takes the place of sexual orientation. don’t judge me this was Phil’s doing)

or read on ao3!

Despite walking past the area almost everyday to get back to his apartment, Dan still couldn’t believe that the renovation works that’s been happening for months was for Phil’s new bar. The Phil Lester. The best actor of his generation (though his friend Anthony would never agree with this opinion) was opening his very first venture outside of acting just ten minutes from his home?!

He stopped and stood idly by the bar on the way home from Anthony’s again. The renovation was all done and the place was due to open that weekend. He couldn’t believe his luck. He’d been a fan of Phil for years, and now he could possibly catch a glimpse of Phil just from walking home.

He’d watched and read all the interviews of Phil talking about his new project. This new bar was like his baby, from the ideation and planning to the execution - Phil was fully involved in every little part and his excitement for it definitely rubbed off on his fans. There was so much speculation on the internet on what the bar would be like, especially because Phil kept hinting at surprises and how unique it was.

Dan was no exception in the fanbase - he already planned to go to the grand opening of the bar as early as possible, if only to get a picture of Phil.

There were some people inside the place; Dan could make out figures walking around in the dimly lit bar. Before he could get his legs to work so he won’t look like a creeper stalker, the figures were already heading to the entrance.

It was almost 1am and the street was empty. Dan was certain nobody would believe him if he told them what he saw. Even he had a hard time believing it, and he was standing there wide-eyed taking it all in.

None other than the Phil Lester walked out, along with a group of people he assumed were his management team and perhaps the contractors of the place. Dan stood next to a fire hydrant at the edge of the pavement, just gaping at them like an idiot.

As if things couldn’t get more unbelievable, Phil noticed him. Obviously; there was no one around but him standing there like a creeper. Phil’s eyebrows shot up in confusion for a second, but he quickly realised Dan was most likely a fan, so he shot him a wink, smirking knowingly.

Dan was for sure going to cringe at this memory for the rest of his life, but in that moment he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t even breathe. He was looking at Phil with his own eyes, and Phil was real. Not someone on a screen. And Phil looked beautiful even when he was barely visible in the dimly lit path. He looked amazing in person, the cameras don’t do him justice. And he fucking winked at Dan!

Dan swallowed, feeling his cheeks heat up. It felt like a very long moment where everything happened in slow motion, but when Dan snapped back to reality, he realised it was probably only the few seconds it took for the group to walk from the bar entrance to their van parked a short distance from the fire hydrant Dan was standing by.

He blinked as the van’s lights blinded him, and they drove off within seconds. Dan just stood there for a long time after the car had gone, wondering if he was dreaming.

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The weekend came quickly, and Dan was more than ready to see Phil again. Now that he knew how perfect Phil looked in person, he felt more prepared. He was not going to make a fool of himself by standing still like a statue too awestruck to even wave hi.

The grand opening of the bar was at 7pm so he left his apartment at 4, wanting to get a good spot where he can see Phil and maybe take a photo with him.

He greatly underestimated just how many fans were willing to show up early, disappointed when he saw the crowd already forming near the gates. There were barriers and a red carpet leading up to the bar’s entrance from the road. There was a designated spot for photographers and interviewers at the other side of the carpet. Dan had never seen this part of London get this much attention before.

He somehow made it to the second row, and he didn’t even care if he was going to block other fans behind him. His height was a blessing and a curse at the same time. He could get a clear view, but he was sure the people in the immediate area behind him would hate him with a passion. But he didn’t care, this was Phil he was seeing.

Time dragged on like it couldn’t go any slower. He scrolled through twitter, getting updates from the journalists just across the red carpet on the anticipated opening of Phil’s bar, the speculation on what Phil was going to wear and which celebrities were invited to the opening.

The fans around Dan were also gossiping excitedly. The row of fans in front of him caught his attention. They were conspiring that the surprise element of Phil’s bar would be that it was only for Tops. One girl was upset by this notion since she was a Bottom, and another girl was hoping Switches could enter too since technically they were some percent Top. The guy who mentioned this theory then showed them ‘proof’ of why he’s so convinced he’s right. Dan scoffed silently. Phil wouldn’t be that exclusive, he loves all fans equally and he definitely wouldn’t create something so grand just to leave out a huge group of his fans. Dan was sure of it. The group in front of him were probably new fans who didn’t know Phil all that well.

Enduring the conversation by those fans did help time pass quicker, and soon the celebrities started strolling in. Most of Phil’s family, friends and co-stars were there. All that’s left was the man himself. Dan was thrumming with anticipation as he waited.

And then the time came. A limo stopped at the start of the carpet, and applause and screams erupted as none other than Phil stepped out. Phil looked stunning, and despite mentally preparing himself, Dan couldn’t help reacting the same way as the night he saw Phil the first time.

Dan drank in the sight before him. He didn’t have to crane his neck to get a good view as he stood out in the crowd like a sore thumb. Phil’s current co-star stepped out with him, and he easily slid his arm around her waist, waving at the crowd with a big grin plastered on his face.

“Oh my god so is he with Rose for real now?!” One of the girls in front of Dan squealed, and he rolled his eyes. No way were they together for real, it was obviously for publicity for their new movie. Besides, Rose was a Top, and though Phil had never publicly addressed his Type, he did give off Top vibes as well. Dan would know a Top when he sees one, it’s just the instincts he was blessed with as a Bottom.

Dan’s eyes were glued to Phil as he strode down the carpet leisurely, posing for the cameras and stopping by some interviewers. He looked so good in his dark maroon suit, and his quiff was styled perfectly.

Dan scrambled for his phone when Phil started walking over to the fans. He took a video, not caring how shaky his hand was. Phil was signing as many things shoved towards him as he could, while smiling at every camera pointed at him. He did it so effortlessly, making his way down the row slowly. Dan felt like the air was running out as Phil got nearer to him.

Phil finally reached his area, and Dan fully forgot to breathe. He’d planned to ask for a photo, but his hand was frozen in place, filming Phil signing stuff for the group in front of him instead.

When Phil was done with the group, he looked up and for a moment his eyes met Dan’s. Phil’s smile faltered a bit as he looked like he was trying to recall why Dan’s face seemed familiar. It could’ve been Dan’s imagination, but it looked like realisation dawned upon Phil after a split second, and Phil nodded at him and raised his eyebrows knowingly, giving Dan the same smirk as the other night.

Dan’s heart leapt in his chest, but before he could get his brain to work, Phil had moved down the row to the next group of fans. The fans in front of him were squealing, but it felt like background noise as Dan’s mind was processing what just happened. Did Phil remember him? He didn’t know whether to be happy or to drown in embarrassment.

Phil was kind to make sure he got to interact with as many fans as he could, and he was done before Dan could conclude whether Phil really recognised him or whether Phil just gave fans that sort of look all the time for fun.

Dan snapped out of it in time to see Phil cutting the ribbon of the front entrance of his bar. He announced that his special guests - all the celebrities who were invited, along with his family and friends and a select few journalists - were going to have a screening of his new movie in the bar, along with the full Phil bar experience. In that moment, Dan wished he was a journalist or something.

It was pretty anticlimactic once all the important people had gone inside. Fans waited outside for a while, but groups slowly left as time went on. After another hour and a half, Dan started to feel tired from standing that long. But just like the remaining fans there, he didn’t know if the celebrities would leave through this entrance, and he didn’t want to miss it if they did. When it was half past 10 and there was still no sign of anyone leaving the building though, Dan finally decided to head home.

He spent the night posting his stupid video online and looking at all the photos already posted by fans and journalists while having supper. Except his video wasn’t all that stupid. It was shaky and blurry at times but he actually managed to catch Phil smirking at him. Safe to say he replayed that bit about a hundred times before finally going to sleep.

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The next morning, there were already posts about Phil’s bar by the guests who were invited in.

Dan watched the instagram stories of the celebrities who were invited as he ate his breakfast, making a map of the bar’s interior mentally based on what he could see. Boy he couldn’t wait to go. It was now open to the public but he was sure it would be filled. He thought to wait until the hype died down a bit, but a bigger part of him wanted to be one of the first fans to experience Phil’s bar.

Then he went to twitter and saw that Phil was trending, and he almost dropped his spoon. He couldn’t believe it. He refused to believe it. No... those fans at the front row could not be right.

His cereal was forgotten as he read about how Phil’s bar was... named Tops Only. What the fuck does that mean? He sped read through his timeline, gathering the fact that Phil had finally confirmed that he was indeed a Top. No surprise there, Dan would know even if Phil wasn’t a celebrity and he just saw him in person as a regular guy.

But was his bar... exclusive to his Type only?

“Bullshit,” Dan exclaimed, feeling his heart sink.

He had adored Phil for so long, only for Phil to be exclusive like this? He thought Phil would be different - the way Phil always dismissed talk about the Types and the hierarchy or stereotypes that came along with them always comforted Dan. Phil was the one showing the world that it doesn’t matter what Type they were born as, it’s who they are as people that mattered. But this bar seemed a complete 180º from that attitude. Did he even know Phil the past years?

Dan sat back in shock as he tried to take in all the information.

One article was by a Bottom journalist who claimed he felt lucky to be able to enter and enjoyed the night even though it didn’t cater to him. Detailed descriptions followed of the staff being Bottoms and how the entertainment was clearly for Tops, complete with pictures of topless waiters winking at the camera and dancing with the guests.

It upset Dan that Phil was being exclusive all of a sudden. He definitely had to see this for himself, and make the painful decision of whether or not to unstan Phil.

He felt bummed out as he made his way to the bar that evening; he was really looking forward to patronising the place often. A part of him still believed that Phil wouldn’t alienate a huge group of his fans just like that. Perhaps the bar was named that way as the entertainment was mainly catered for Phil’s taste, but everyone would be allowed to enter all the same?

He arrived and was sorely mistaken. There was a terribly long queue, and it was made worse because of a hold up at the entrance. Dan watched from afar, not really joining the queue yet. The crowd made him decide it wasn’t worth queueing anyway.

There were 2 big bouncers at the entrance preventing 2 girls from entering. Dan instantly recognised them as the ones in front of him the previous day. They were arguing loudly about how big of fans they were of Phil, and that it was unfair to not let them in just because of their Type.

All of Dan’s hopes to enter the place dashed right then. He shook his head in disbelief. A Top in the middle of the queue yelled at them to get on with it, and one of the bouncers promptly removed the girls from the scene while the other checked the ID of the next person in line.

Just then, an idea formed in Dan’s mind.

Types were mostly straightforward and people could usually tell someone’s Type if they bothered to get to know the person enough. It was an identity everyone was born with, there was no way to change it just like there was no way to change one’s blood type. There were certain behaviours that clearly define people’s Type, things that other Types simply wouldn’t do. People would be attracted to the opposite of their Type, and not their own. The only people who weren’t so straightforward were Switches.

Dan clearly radiated Bottom, but there had been moments in his life where people mistook him for a Switch at least. He briskly walked back home to create a fake Switch ID.

------------------

Back at the queue a few days later, Dan couldn’t help but feel nervous. He didn’t know if the bouncers would be fooled by his fake ID. He did try to make it look as legitimate as it could be, and he hoped that after a few days they would be a bit more lax.

What worried him more was his own vibes. He sucked at acting, and he had no idea how not to give himself away as a Bottom. Be more confident, for one, he thought. He took a deep breath and gathered himself as the line moved.

There were still a number of fans who weren’t Tops trying to get in, but the bouncers held firm. Bottoms wouldn’t dare cross Tops anyway, and everyone knew that. All the bouncers had to do was speak in their commanding tone and it would kick in like instinct for Bottoms to listen. Dan swallowed his nerves down as he heard the bouncer’s booming voice, finally having had enough of the fan arguing with him.

Then it was finally Dan’s turn. He hoped to god the bouncer didn’t notice the way his hand trembled when he showed his fake ID. He glanced up at the big man and was met with an unimpressed gaze.

“Switches aren’t allowed,” the bouncer said in a bored tone, tossing the card back at him.

“But I’m like, half Top,” Dan argued weakly.

“Yeah which means you’re half Bottom, aren’t you? And that’s not allowed,” he sighed, looking over Dan to the next person.

“That’s not fair!” Dan couldn’t help the outburst. He had to try. He felt so indignant, and he suddenly understood why all the ones rejected before him bothered to argue. Even though he’d seen plenty of people get rejected and knew he didn’t have a chance either, he still had to show some pride.

“You’re sounding more like a bratty Bottom to me,” the bouncer smirked in amusement.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Dan yelled, offended by the remark.

“Leave,” the bouncer commanded, all traces of amusement gone as his expression turned dead serious.

Dan stilled, instincts telling him to listen to the Top towering in front of him. But when he didn’t move, the bouncer merely beckoned the next person over, and easily let the Top behind Dan enter.

Dan huffed angrily and stomped away, not caring that he looked like a bratty Bottom. The bouncer could tell already anyway.

He had to do better next time.

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Hope you enjoyed, I had fun writing something different from my past works :) though listening to this stereo episode while writing this made me miss their stereo shows :(

let me know what you think! There’ll be Part 2 in 1-2 weeks, see ya then! <3

#phan fic #My fic #Phanfic #phan #Dan and Phil #stereo #Tops Only

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writing-frenzy · 3 years

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New prompt ! Peaks Lords having a "by the Gods, SQH is actually a genius" moment after seeing all the things he "invented" (recreated from the modern world bc he missed them). SQH is of course insisting "it's nothing" but honestly it's very impressive. (Could be electricity, better ways to do things, inventing vaccines even ! Have fun with it really)

Third Prompt! This was a neat idea to mess with, seeing what I could have SQH actually pull off.

(BTW The Picture Books were Inspired by @tossawary from their amazing Fic pride is not the word I’m looking for; like, they have the most perfect SQH voice, I cry.)

----

It took... a while for many to realize the genius hidden in their midst. Some refused to see it, while for others it was more a thing of disbelief.

(On Shang Qinghua’s part, he feels more like he is just cheating, taking things he already knows about from his past world, despite the actual hard work and thought needed to put ideas out into the real world and no longer just a idle passing thing.)

It started simply and from a rather unexpected place; two siblings, both who got along well still even if they went to different Peaks, one for Qing Jing and the other An Ding, were in the Qing Jing Library when Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu happened by. Narrowing his eyes over at the whispering pair as they went over books, and thinking they were a shade of ‘yellow’, Shen Qingqiu was fully ready to berate them and confiscate their reading material, when he fully focused on just what they were saying.

“-and the-the Great Many E-Eyed Red B, Bird?” His disciple sounded out, before looking over to their sibling in question, getting an encouraging nod.

“That’s right Gege! Just like the picture on the page!” the An Ding Disciple encouraged, moving their hand enough that the Peak Lord could now see as well.

It was a beautiful, if strangely drawn depiction of a Great Many Eyed Red Bird drinking from a stream, with another of its kind obviously coming over to make trouble, if the stylized expression on the bird’s face was any indication.

Hearing how the two went on, describing the Bird’s extremely territorial instincts in such simple but easy to understand ways, Shen Qingqiu was able to tell the book was in fact not from his Peak, but from An Ding, judging from the blue and grey robed disciple’s familiarity with the book. And that they had more, judging by the modest pile of similar books.

With a dark face, (and jealousy in his gut) Shen Qingqiu interrupts the pair of siblings before him, voice calm but still ever so strict.

“And where, pray tell, have these Disciples received such books?”

Watching as the two hurry to make themselves presentable, doing their salute (As a Martial Niece) and bow (as a Disciple), Shen Qingqiu is in slight disbelief when he hears from the An Ding Disciple that they were made by their Peak Lord.

Refusing to believe it, that the rat of a man could create something like this, Shen Qingqiu scowls behind his fan, determined to get to the bottom of this.

With time, Shen Qingqiu finds with much horror that the slippery bastard is in fact actually capable of bouts of random genius. Something the whole Sect has in fact known about.

This does not inspire any good emotions.

Yue Qingyuan smiles, even as those eyes look so understanding as he nods, before showing him the accounting books, “Yes, our Martial Brother Shang Qinghua has a flare of genius that comes up every so often; thanks to his efforts, this new way of accounting and organizing said accounts have made money handling more easy... Many Kingdoms have also been much impressed by it.” The man says ruefully.

Meaning Shang Qinghua has choices, and even better qualifications for his disciples who have learned it.

Liu Qingge pauses a bit, the brute actually looking thoughtful, before he puts forward, “The man has made some interesting, but extremely useful training equipment that uses pullies and weights for my disciples. It has been of great use for my disciples in building upper body strength.”

Baah, not only helping the brutes of Bai Zhan, but even helping to get stronger? (Things his own students would have the best of as well?)

Qi Qingqi, one of the few people with sense left in this sect, sighs, “The man is slippery and ridiculous as they come, but he has made amazing scented soaps that clean so well... not to mention the self-defense course he devised is ingenious.”

And this is how he finds out that not only has An Ding been holding out on them, but that they even have a fighting style completely based on using the opponents own power against them and vital points to incapacitate...

Not to mention the Pepper Spray and this Taster Tool the other had devised...

Looking to Mu Qingfang, who merely smiles in return, obvious knowing in his eyes as he ever so carefully prepares some medicines. “An Ding’s Peak Lord has been most helpful in his knowledge in aiding my Peak, many remedies he knows I have never even heard of. I am indeed very grateful for it.”

... Ah... Hmmm, It... Would probably not do to make an enemy of An Ding. (He does not run from the healer, he is only making a smart retreat to go over his findings, that is all.)

Staring out at all his findings, Shen Qingqiu sighs, deciding that he’s going to need a bit of Alcohol if he’s going to actually have to recognize the rat as an actual brain in their head.

With a scowl on his face, Shen Qingqiu knows this is going to be a long night.

#SVSSS #Scum Villain's Self-Saving System #Scum Villain's Self Saving System #Shen Qingqiu #Shen Jiu #Shang Qinghua #Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky

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em-neko · 3 years

Text

AMNESIA REVIEW

hey! so since i haven’t watched much anime recently, i thought i’d get back into the habit by watching an anime that i’ve been meaning to watch for a bit, amnesia.

i’ll try not to include spoilers, but consider this your spoiler warning!

okay so, let’s start with a very rough summary of the plot: you, the mc/heroine, wakes up in the back room of a cafe after collapsing at work. upon waking up, you discover that you’ve lost your memory. you’re obviously very confused but don’t worry! there’s a little “spirit” named orion who’s there to guide you and give you advice. in every other episode, you wake up in a different universe, there are six universes, a starting/neutral universe and one universe for each of the five love interests (ikki, shin, ukyo, toma and kent), in which you’re (presumably/allegedly) dating/in love with them. basically, the plot of the anime is you trying to get your memory back and trying to figure out which of the six universes is your real universe, the universe you lived in before you lost your memory.

i’ll be judging this anime based off of five categories, and i’ll be giving it an overall grade at the end. the categories are: the plot, the love interests, the heroine, the romance and the animation style.

THE PLOT

oh lorddddd, where do i start? this plot is confusing as hell. so the story is like a fantasy, thriller, suspense, romance, drama type of thing and it took me a few internet searches to really understand what was going on. okay so the reason why the plot is so all over the place is because the anime was actually based off of an otome game of the same title (for some reason, i thought it was the other way around, but somehow this makes more sense). translating this complexe of a storyline into an anime was probably quite challenging. i think it was an intentional decision to make the plot confusing, so that we as viewers truly understand how the heroine feels, but honestly it just gave me a headache. i watch anime’s to relax, not to feel like i’m taking a calculus test, i’d close my eyes for two seconds and it was like i’d skipped seven episodes, like yeah it was just too much for my two remaining braincells. however, now that i truly understand the plot, i actually think it’s a very good story, despite the mind fuck it caused me. i’ve read a few amnesia trope stories, but none had a plot this complexe, so i really liked it. i also liked how the heroine got some alone time with each boy, since they each had their own universes (or routes), which is rare in reverse harem anime’s, usually it’s just one neutral route. it reminded me of kamigami no asobi in that sense, since kna also gives each boy their own episode. overall, i think it was a very good storyline, it was just confusing. if you watch anime as a way to do something to pass time that requires absolutely no brain power, you’ll hate this anime, but if you like an anime that keeps you engaged and on your toes, you’ll definitely love it.

rating: 7/10

THE LOVE INTEREST

at the beginning, i thought the love interests were pretty lackluster, honestly. i think it was a purposeful choice made by the writers, bc they wanted us viewers to feel like how the heroine feels, like they’re all strangers, but the boys become really likable once you get to their episodes (except for one, won’t spoil who buuuut let’s just say one of the love interests gets a little too possessive). i love how different their personalities are, my favorite’s definitely kent (although ukyo comes at a close second)! each of them could fit into a stereotypical reverse harem love interest mold/trope: like toma is the fun, outgoing onii-chan who raised you, shin is the angsty, moody tsundere who you grew up with, ikki is the womanizer with a melodramatic past, ukyo is the mysterious sad boi with issues and kent is the shy, robotic dork who doesn’t understand love. however, they all felt like original characters, since their personalities were so unique, which i loved. also, i liked how each boy went through (or at least some) character development, whether good or bad, they didn’t stay consistent throughout the story and you really got to see a different side of them in each of their universes.

rating: 9/10

THE HEROINE

the heroine is pretty boring, as expected of reverse harems, however i really didn’t mind it, considering the plot. can you even blame her for being confused and airhead-ish all the time? she lost her memory for christ’s sake, i was actually impressed at how composed she seemed. she’s quite sensible (with some episodes) and she actually tries really hard to get her memory back, instead of whining and crying all day. she’s very weary of people, and she wasn’t as gullible and naive as reverse harem heroines usually are, which i liked. she’s fairly consistent throughout the story, but i think i liked her best in shin and ikki’s universes. she’s kind of dumb in toma’s universe though.

rating: 8/10

THE ROMANCE

not the most romantic reverse harem, i’ll admit. as i said, the heroine is very anxious all of the time, and she doesn’t really seem to trust (most of) the boys. she tries to avoid any intimate interactions the love interests, and when there were kissing scenes, they were forced. i’d compare her and the boys dynamic like a family trying to gain the trust of a newly adopted puppy (that might be kind of degrading, but you know what i mean), in some episodes she was more willing to get close to the boys, while in others she seemed more reluctant. there were some cute/angsty scene, but not that many (although my favorite was the phone call scene with ikki). it was definitely more of a dramatic, intense, bordering on suspense story than a romantic one.

rating: 5/10

THE ANIMATION STYLE

i really liked this animation style, it’s honestly one of the prettiest reverse harem animations i’ve seen. it reminded me a bit of diabolik lovers, which has my second favorite animation out of all of the reverse harems i’ve seen (after magic kyun renaissance). i really loved the deep colors, the intricate clothes and patterns, the attention to detail in each scene. i thought it was really cool how each love interest’s outfit was based off of a playing card (ikki being spade, toma being diamond, shin being heart and kent being clubs)!

rating: 10/10

FINAL RATING: ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆

which brings us to an overall score of 78% or a b+.i think the anime is actually worth a watch, it’s unique, the animation is really cool, the love interests aren’t surface level and the music is really good. i’d recommend it to anyone who wants to watch a reverse harem, but hates anything slice of life, romcom, high school romance-y. honestly, i could see a straight guy really enjoying this anime too. i watched the anime both in japanese and in english, and honestly, i’d watch it in japanese if i were you. sometimes the words that the characters were saying or in tone in which they were saying them didn’t really match with the character’s expression, so it really ticked me off. i thought watching the english dub would make the plot a little easier to understand, but honestly it didn’t help much.

#amnesia #amnesia memories #amnesia anime #amnesia otome game #ukyo amnesia #ikki amnesia #toma amnesia #shin amnesia #kent amnesia #otome game #reverse harem #otome review #amnesia review #nina’s words

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rebelwrites · 3 years

Text

Chapter One: The Aftermath

Summary // Chapter List/Masterlist

A/N: so here it is, the first chapter of can love save a life. I really hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it. And I hope you fall in love with Brooke and Xavier. I would really appreciate your feedback on this as I know it’s not fanfiction.

Enjoy 💜

Join The TagList Here 💜

Laying in the middle of the double bed, Brooke rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. It was far too early in the morning to be awake yet here she was. Rudely awoken by her brother screaming her name from downstairs.

"God dammit" she groaned, fumbling around on the nightstand to find her glasses before shouting back at her older brother “gimme a minute bro”

"Hurry up we are waiting for you" he replied before letting out a loud sigh letting her know that he was pissed off.

Rolling out of bed her feet landed on the floor with a thud, wiggling her toes in the fluffy rug, she reached for the oversized hoodie that was hanging off the foot of her bed. Shrugging the garment over her shoulders she grabbed her phone checking the time.

7.06am.

“There better be a fire” she muttered to herself as she pushed herself off the bed trying to work out what had her family dragging her out of bed before the sun had even risen.

As Brooke got closer to the kitchen she could hear the hush voices of her parents, she couldn’t hear the full conversation but heard the words bike and confiscate , just from them two words she knew that somehow they had found out about the late night adventure from last night an judging by their tone she knew how this was going to go.

Pulling her blonde hair over her shoulder, she pushed the door open to the kitchen, instantly meeting the scowls off her parents. Unhappy wouldn’t even cover the atmosphere in the room. The tension made Brooke feel uncomfortable, as she poured herself a much needed mug of coffee before she faced the impending doom.

"Why do you do it to yourself B" her dad sighed, receiving a shrug off his daughter.

“Look just let me at least get a sip of coffee before you start screaming” Brooke huffed, bringing the mug to her lips. Letting the nectar from the gods touch her soul.

“Brooke” her mother scolded, making Brooke roll her eyes as she sat down at the kitchen table.

“Look I’m young, I want to go out and have fun and thought that hitting the track would be fun” she shrugged taking another sip of coffee “but obviously not, I mean how did you find out what I did last night anyway”

Silence was what she was met with as her father slammed down the newspaper for the day on the table in front of her.

“Delinquent trouble makers break into race track causing chaos”

“You know you get followed by the press with Marvin’s status in the business world” her said sighed “and you think it’s smart to break into the race track, I’m honestly surprised the owner doesn’t want to press charges”

And there it was, the one line she was waiting for. The line that got said every time she did something they didn’t approve of.

Brooke loved her brother and was proud of his achievements but there was a constant feeling of suffocation with the press always trailing her alongside people expecting so much from her.

“Sorry I’m a disappointment” Brooke shrugged, not making eye contact with the people that she called family. “I guess that’s what you get when you get a kid from the pound”

“Bee please don’t say that” Marvin said, placing his hand on her arm as she fumbled with the sleeves of her hoodie.

“We all know it’s true” Brooke snapped “we all know that I will never achieve greatness, I will forever be known as the troublemaker. I mean I’m not even a true Crawford let’s face it. Sometimes I don’t even know who I am anymore”

“Brooke,” her dad said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Look I had fun last night, I was doing what I love and the only thing that makes me happy. Now if you don’t mind I will take this paper because I want to frame it” she smirked, taking the paper off the table, before pulling her cigarettes out of her pocket. In desperate need of some nicotine.

"Young lady this isn't funny I have the right mind to take your keys of you and sell that stupid bike" her mum shouted. “Ever since you brought that thing it has brought nothing but trouble”

It looks could kill, then the person Brooke called her mother would be dead. Holding eye contact she slid the chair back causing the metal legs to make an ear piercing noise as it scraped along the marble tiles.

“Do you know what, I don’t have to sit here and take this” Brooke snapped “I’m going to go for a smoke and you know work on my stupid bike seen as I have my first race coming up”

Walking into the garage, which was attached to the side of the house. Brooke rolled the door up before lighting her cigarette, a smile creeped onto her face as her gaze landed on her white Kawasaki Ninja sitting proud on the bike stand.

Checking the date on her phone, letting a sigh escape her lips. It was a month until her debut race, the thought sickened her from the nerves, it would be make or break for her. Glancing over to the whiteboard with the list of things she needed to do to the bike. She thought time was on her side but in reality she only had a few weeks to complete the tasks.

As she finished her smoke, her mind was racing. She knew that she would never achieve as much as her brother. She didn’t have the best upbringing, no recollection of her childhood before she was eight years old. Squeezing her eyes closed, she pushed the memories down she couldn’t relive the years of torture it, was bad enough she was still having nightmares but never told her parents because they would never believe her.

Pressing her phone against her ear, the dull dialling tone rang until the groan of her best friend Luna greeted her.

“Please tell me you can tell the time” Luna grumbled.

“Stop groaning” Brooke laughed “look I need yours and Nate’s help with the ninja”

“Girl stop lying, you just want to see my brother bent over your bike” she laughed.

“I’m not afraid to stab you,” Brooke smirked.

“I know” Luna sighed dramatically “be there in ten, good job I love you bitch”

Hours had passed, things were getting completed and the bonus was Nate was working topless. Brooke couldn’t help but smirk as they kept making eye contact, causing her to feel like a giddy teenager.

Hearing the sound of her mother shouting her name, Brooke sighed as you dropped the spanner back into the tool box.

“Ready for round two I guess, I will see you both tomorrow” Brooke huffed “well that’s if I don’t get killed tonight”

“Keep your chin up Princess” Nate said pulling Brooke into a hug, placing a kiss on the top of her head. She swore her heart had skipped a beat.

Trudging back into the house, Brooke went back into the kitchen to find her family still sat around the table.

“You wanted me?” She said grabbing a drink from the fridge.

"B we want you to go live with a friend of a friend for a bit" her father said with no emotion in his voice.

Anger ran through her veins as she kicked the chair across the room, watching it crash into the sliding glass door, causing the glass to shatter.

“You have got to be shitting me” she snapped “just because I don’t act like you want me to. You are shipping me off just like everyone else did”

"We have booked your tickets, you fly tomorrow" her mum said in a whisper.

“Fuck you all” Brooke spat before running through the frame of the glass door.

Everything she loved, she was being ripped away from. Without even a thought for her. She should have been used to the pain of abandonment by now but this one stung worse than the rest. These were the people who became her family, for the last seven years they were the ones she thought were in her corner and had her back. Turns out this wasn’t the case.

Slumping against the large oak tree, Brooke pulled at her hair before screaming into the air. Leaning her head against the rough bark as she sparked a cigarette letting her mind wander to what was the last night of freedom.

Leaning against her bike, Brooke watched as her best friend ran full speed towards her.

“Bitch look out" Luna screamed as she jumped over the wall coming within millimetres away from crashing into Brooke’s bike.

“Girl what have I told you about the bike" Brooke scolded Luna as a smirk played on her lips.

"You and this bloody bike B" Luna laughed as she snatched the helmet out of Brooke’s hand securing it on her head “Where to then?”

"Well my friend we are gonna take little ninja here to the track and see what she can do" Brooke smirked as she flicked the visor on her helmet down.

Looking ahead as Luna wrapped her arms around Brooke’s waist, under the helmet Brooke was grinning like a teenager as she saw Nate’s car, followed by the flash of the headlights.

“Hold on bitch” Brooke shouted back to Luna as she squeezed the throttle, speeding past Nate’s car.

Soon enough they pulled up at the gates of the track, her foot felt for the kickstand. Flicking the visor on her helmet up she pulled the paper clip out of her leather jacket. One of Brooke’s many skills was lock picking. However her breath got caught in her throat as she felt two strong arms wrap around her waist.

"Hey trouble ready to have some fun" Nate breathed down her ear.

“Stop distracting me” Brooke giggled as she continued to work the lock.

“But it’s fun” Nate whispered, his lips grazing Brooke’s ear as he spoke, his thumbs running over the waistband of her shorts.

"Let's do this" Brooke grinned as she finally cracked the lock.

#rebel writes original #can love save a life?#writer #writing community #romance #love #motorcycle club romance #mc romance #slow burn ish #I don’t know what to bloody tag this as help me

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kanene-yaaay-o-retorno · 3 years

Text

The boy on the farthest table

Kanene’s Notes:

So, I’ve been reading all the fluff content with Dadzawa I could find and I am very surprised I didn’t manage to stumble in a Dadzawa running a Cat Café so I thought ‘h e y’ why don’t I make it??? SO here we are!!

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* That fanfic has Dadzawa and Yamadad and their relatonship can be seen as romantic, if you wish.

* This happens in the same universe as This Fanfic Here and you can also find it on AO3.

* No warnings this time!! Only fluff and a bit of hurt/comfort.

* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to the amazing the manga/anime Boku no Hero.

* Something around 2.500 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* Tô com preguiça de postar a versão em português brasileiro aaaa! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Eat a delicious snack, sleep a bit, take care and drink water and sleep well! Byeioo!~

[~*~]

Aizawa doesn’t really care about his clients more than the strictly necessary amount. He arrived where he is because of the cats and the coffee. If people paid more because he decided to mix both together and open a business with that premise than better for him.

So, yes. Aizawa doesn’t care at all about his clients. Neither held any favorites above the others, don’t matter what Yamada tried to imply with his ‘discrete’ smug eyes and knowing grin as, for the second time today, the black haired worker narrowed his eyes at the boy sitting on the farthest table, lost in his deep thoughts as he stared intently at his notebook just like he has been doing for the past two hours, lazy scribbles fulfilling the lines in a tired, yet determined attempt to keep going.

The owner of the Cat Café didn’t really care about what his clients did as long it didn’t annoy his cats or him.

However, that doesn’t mean he kept himself completely oblivious of what happened at his establishment nor the persons who attended there.

Perhaps he wasn’t the most enthusiastic worker there – that is why him and Hizashi had an unspoken agreement that he would stay firm on his place making drinks and serving pastries, sometimes scaring some insufferable clients away, while the louder, social friend would focus in talking and getting the orders, – but he knew enough to not be a bad one.

He knew that the girl with yellow bright eyes and nuts and bolts shining in between her curls liked strawberry muffins, tended to not be able to stand still for much time, and visited on Fridays, so he always kept one baked sweet hidden for her on these days.

Just like he always recognized that tall, skeleton-like adult as soon as his form crossed the door. A client who came especially for the cats and the Jasmin tea, although always sneaked a couple and more glares to the cat-themed cookies, so he made sure to “accidentally” drop one with the donuts he always asked to go for “- a friend! He loves them but is often very busied with work… So, I thought I could try and treat him a bit after everything he already did to me!” And also, who, in the next day, came back to attempt to pay for the free cookie but was, day after day, defeat by Hizashi’s stubbornness and convincing abilities, leading the loyal client to make sure to put a generous tip on the Tip Jar as a revenge, making sure to stare intently at the pouting worker during the whole process.

Or the young girl with red eyes full of curiosity and a tongue full of questions which him and Yamada took turns to answer, eliciting shy smiles, bright excitement and a glare full of gratitude from her older brother, who used the free time to study while she ate and played with the kittens, sometimes even falling asleep when his two friends – an extremely quiet boy with a gigantic sweet tooth and an electric smiley girl who always convinced the younger one to help her to gather the biggest amount of sleepy cats to nap on the blond teen before he wakes up in the middle of purrs and laughter - accompanied them.

That being said, Aizawa liked to be informed and, above everything else, was good at getting the information he needed. He mastered the skill of analyzing details and understanding situations others used to ignore, making connections and arriving to conclusions that seemed foreign to others, that is why he continued to cast quick frowns and glances to the boy, doesn’t liking at all how his brain continued to run and turn, seeking for any answer or hints of what happened to him, only to get at nowhere. He was, obviously, just trying to assert the situation, which had nothing to do with the fact that the boy – always shining, always with such a bright smile every time he ordered anything – was alone on this Saturday. A not so rare occasion, since even though the café was a common place for him and his friends to meet – an occurrence impossible to ignore due how full of energy and joy and chaos and energy they all were, - he also seemed very keen to spend hours writing and studying on his own.

However, there was something different today. Something to do with how quiet, concentrated, calm, lethargic the teenager was acting the whole time, which worrie- no, intrigued him.

Because Aizawa wasn’t worried. Of course not. That would be illogical and preposterous. He wasn’t anything to the child, not his family, not a friend, not a relative, just the guy who grunted a one-word answer every time the younger tried to make small talk and pretend to not notice him and Hizashi trading cute cat videos and pics during the blonde’s breaks.

Hell, he didn’t even share more words than the necessary with the green haired boy. The longest interaction they ever had was when the younger one came to him on his first time visiting the place and asked for more cat toys, since all the available ones were already being used. Which maybe or maybe not led to Aizawa leaving his friend to deal alone with the orders while he took his time to show and explain the favorite toys of every cat the green boy pointed.

Which was, sure, only a revenge on his boisterous coworker since the aforementioned interrupted his morning nap by tripping on him on his way to the kitchen (and yes, it was Yamada’s fault for not looking at where he’s going and obviously not Shouta’s because he decided to ‘JUST FREAKING PASS OUT ON THE FLOOR. HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO SEE IT?’) and, not content with his actions, decided to lock the other out of his own establishment, only letting him come back after lunch and, consequently, at least five hours of sleep, leaving him on the care of Nemuri, who proceeded to tease him unmercifully for the whole length of yesterday.

Consequently, it was only a payback, of course. The gleam on the smaller’s eyes as he took notes on a well worn out notebook and the fact that, on the next Saturday, the boy distributed all the correct toys between his friends and their favorite cats were two completely ignorable things and therefore unrelated with the quick, barely visible smile appearing on the corner of his mouth on the respective day and every time he remembered that occurrence.

But, when a quiet sniff reached his ears, Aizawa almost felt his neck crack with how quickly he turned on the other’s direction, just in time to see the ending of the teenager’s action of wiping a few tears away. The one who definitely didn’t get enough sleep on his entire life to deal with it sensed his left eye twitch.

That. Is. It.

“Shouta…” Hizashi whispered behind the usual smile he plastered for the customer in front of him, nodding while writing down what she said and chipping excitedly for her to just wait a little bit to get her order, deviating his attention to his friend when she moved away to sit in one of the unoccupied tables, both taking the opportunity of having no more customers in the line to held some private words. “Do you want me to go there?” his voice was bathed in worry, because his coworker was emotional like that.

“No.” And Aizawa didn’t know why he was so fast to answer, however he was already washing his hands, mind running, seeking to remember how other people - besides his friends, who were barely humans, - worked. “You know I hate being the cashier.”

“Riight.” His way-too-smug-grin was fast to become a snicker when his friend aimed a kick on his shin, which he promptly dodged. “Hey! I didn’t even say anything!”

“Your thoughts are loud. I will be right back.”

His eyes were focused on the kid, who now was curled on his chair, chin resting on his knees as his arms firmly hugged his legs, making him look even smaller.

Aizawa grunted, part of him feeling inclined to just drop an entire gallon of water on his head to successfully wash all his problems way, or maybe shake all the bad, lying thoughts taking over his mind and resulting in a few tears to escape what, on its turn, made a strong feeling of protectiveness, which was immediately ignored, shines on him. But Shouta knew he couldn’t act on any of those two options because it wasn’t “socially acceptable” – nor very useful, but he ignored that part, - and “problems” and “people” tended to be more complicated to help than that.

The older sighed, kneeling on the spot before the front door where the sun passed through the window and made a perfect warm piece of floor for the big, - extremely big - messy pile of purple fluff lay and nap without a single worry in the world, not even stirring as the customers had to tiptoe around him to get in and out of the establishment.

Shinsou hissed when Shouta first petted him, although was fast to purr louder than a machine as the human began to scratch behind his ears, going back to his peaceful sleep. He was the most calm, chill and snarky cat he has ever seen. His hobbies consisting on getting on the highest shelves to watch the entire place with a judging, tired glare and napping on people’s laps, especially when they were about to head out, which made his customers to order something else and stay for at least more fifteen minutes, not having the heart to interrupt the purple’s sleep.

Needless to say, he and Aizawa got along just fine. Even with the animal’s habit of climbing him to nap on his shoulders and teaching the younger kittens to do the same thing, knowing very well the one with dark hair would never have the heart to put them away, the human knew he sustained a soft spot for him.

Nemuri and Yamada liked to tease him, affirming that Shinsou was his cat form and Shouta would never admit he agreed with them.

He also ignored the implications of that when he remembered Shinsou was one of the green haired bag of energy favorites.

“I have a mission for you.” It was the only mumbled warning the cat had before being carefully scoped on the human’s arms, melting on the embrace, hissing, yawning and then proceeding to melt even further. Shouta huffed, amused.

‘Brat.’

Another signal that the teenager was much more trapped in his mind than the normal was the fact he didn’t realize the adult coming closer, nearly jumping three feet in the air as Aizawa’s command hit him.

“Sit correctly.”

The teenager yelped, looking at him, at himself and then at him again, a strong shade of an ashamed red taking over his features. “O-o-of course, sir! I am sorry!” He bowed, putting his feet on the ground and straightening his back, a slight tremble on his movements making the adult frown.

“Don’t think too much about this.” And before any protest could come out of the other’s mouth, Aizawa laid Shinsou on his legs, leading the boy to freeze completely, eyes locked on the cat, who just blinked lazily at him and started to knead his thighs, low, rumbling purrs escaping, demanding the new human as worthy.

A barely suppressed squeal flew from the younger, who already seemed ready to cry again, although for different reasons.

The cat café’s owner hid his amused smile by catching a kitten who approached with curiosity, petting him and proceeding to flop him on the soft, green curls. Ojiro meowed, purring and immediately attempting to eat his new environment.

“I…” His wide, wobbly smile increased further as Shinsou butted his head on the teenager’s palm, his voice, a whisper, lapsing for a beat. “I love them.”

There was no way for the adult to hide his snort at his words, but the Problem Child seemed unfazed with his reaction, turning to him with shiny eyes and smile.

“Thank you so much, sir!”

After a nod, Aizawa turned away and came back to his spot behind the counter. And if talking and taking orders when Hizashi uses part of his break to “discreetly” take a few pictures of a beaming boy smiling to the camera and pointing the cats on him to send to him later, is much more bearable than before? It has absolutely nothing to do with the young figure on the farthest table sporadically giggling as he plays with an Ojiro who is fiercely convinced he can win the battle against the red laser.

[…]

“Excuse me, Yamada-san. I’m sorry, but my order was 476 yens and you only charged me 200.” Aizawa knew the boy was going to lose the fight the moment Hizashi only grinned and locked the cashier, completely ignoring the two pieces of paper on the other’s hand.

“Don’t worry about it, little listener! Don’t worry! Take this as a thank you for letting Shinsou and Ojiro sleep on you for one hour, okay?”

“B-but sir! It was no problem at all!” The way he moved to prove his point made Aizawa picture a small, energetic bunny. “I really like them and I was going to stay here longer anyway!”

“Now, now, young boy.” Hizashi pointed a finger at him, trying and failing miserably to see or sound at least a tad chastising. “Refusing a ‘thank you’ is a serious offense, I wonder if I will need to give you a free blueberry muffin to go because of that…”

“No!” Aizawa huffed, turning away from them and heading to the tables, taking the opportunity of how low the business was to clean and prepare them for the next customers, stopping right on his tracks, mid step as a wide, pleading glare found his. “Aizawa-san,” he shook the 276 yens at his direction, puppy eyes staring right on his soul, “please.”

The dark-haired one scoffed, looking away from the powerful graze. “Don’t bring me into this. Fight your own battles, problem child.”

Hizashi laughed at the pout he received in response, having pity on the loyal customer. “Okay, okay. I give. You can pay for this.” Aizawa glared at him, one eyebrow up in a non convinced expression. His friend winked, big grins as the younger turned to him, much more smiley. “With a hug.”

Problem child seemed surprised, especially when the flamboyant employee jumped across the counter and stopped in front of him, arms open in an invitation. “Only if you’re comfortable, of course.” His voice was softer. “I can always accept 100 yens if you really want me to, little listener.”

He didn’t understand the magic thing his friend always managed to do. The way he succeeded to dance around someone’s barriers, finding openings and walking through them, asking no permission to get closer yet always attentive when to stop and retreat or to talk about every or anything. The same magic he showed when they were teenagers.

Tsuyu meowed and Aizawa kneeled down to give her attention for as long as the embrace lasted, pretending to not notice the two hugging behind him, the taller lightly swaying them while the younger relaxed, melting on the touch.

A few seconds later the anxious bunny was bowing, thanking them and getting out with a gleam on his face, hugging happily the notebook next to his chest and petting Cloud before going away. Shouta came back to his spot, Yamada followed and the green hair disappeared on the corner.

“We’re not adopting the Problem Child.”

“But he already even has a nickname! Shoutaaa, it’s meant to be! And you’re already soft for him as well, don’t deny it.”

He scoffed. “Shut up. You try to say no to those fucking puppy eyes next time.”

“You fought well,” Hizashi patted his shoulder, his own gaze getting a dangerous, gleaming light. “Dadzawa.”

The rarefied clients distributed across the café jumped when, between laughter and dramatics cries of pain, the blonde fell on the ground, a half pleased, half evil smile presenting itself on the shorter’s face in a flash before his impassive expression took over and he calmly continued with his usual chores, pointedly ignoring the ‘It was so worthy it’ snickered by his friend, still laid on the floor.

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yoonjinkooked · 4 years

Text

Kitchen Confidential | Jin (2)

banner: @casuallyimagining

PART 2

PART 1

Pairing: Seokjin / Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Enemies to lovers, chef AU

Warnings: slow burn with explicit sex later, cursing

Word Count: 5k+ (Part 1 - 5k+) Summary: After years of annoying the life out of you, your rival, Kim Seokjin, pushes you a step too far and he knows it. As angry and resentful as you are, you don’t realize that something has been brewing under the surface for years. This weekend, that will change.

Last night was not nearly as bad as you had thought it would be. The drive to the lake was long, but you were carpooling with Jungkook, so it wasn’t dull for a single moment. Getting there in the late afternoon, all you’ve had time for was dinner and drinks. A dinner which you did not make, for a change. With every single staff member of both respective restaurants, it was very easy to avoid Seokjin – not like he was looking for you either. Drinking wine and reminiscing your school days with Jungkook, Taehyung and Yoongi took the bigger part of your night and made time fly. For a few hours, you thought this weekend teambuilding getaway might not be so bad after all.

That changed this morning at ass crack of dawn, when Namjoon knocked on your door to wake you up and give you a schedule for today. As you read through all the activities listed, your eyes still sleep crusted, you have realized that today was going to be torturous.

“You have got to be shitting me.”

You have tried, you truly did. Kept an open mind and all of that, ready to put your best foot forward and do what is best for your team. But 10 minutes into the group meditation, you’ve had enough.

“Shush,” Mina hisses at you from your left side, her eyes closed. “You’re making me lose focus.”

“Don’t you think you’re losing focus because there are 15 other people in the room pretending not to hear each other breathe? This is ridiculous,” you sigh, but still keep your voice fairly low when talking because you don’t want to make anyone else lose focus. Meditation requires peace and doing it with a bunch of people kind of kills the point.

“Come on Y/N,” Jimin chuckles from your right. “Don’t you want to become one with your team?”

“You will become one with my fist if you don’t shut it,” you whisper back.

“I will sauté both of your asses if you don’t zip it,” Jeongguk warns from in front of you, obviously annoyed by your bickering. “The sooner you shut up, the sooner this shit will be over and we can go outside and grab a damn beer.”

“Please remain quiet!”

You lower your head in shame – as ridiculous as it is, you did not want to piss of the instructor or whatever the hell she is. Judging by the glare directed towards you, you did just that. So, you close your eyes and shut up and let your mind wander over nothing and everything all at once.

With fall around the corner, you’re going to have to update your menu. Seasonal menus are a joy to work on, giving you an option to rebrand everything every couple of months. With all the fresh fall produce you’re going to have at your disposal, the next few weeks are going to be a lot of fun.

Your tricked worked – you were still on the appetizers by the time meditation was over.

“Remind me to never listen to him again,” Yoongi cracks open a beer as he sits down on the grass between you and Jeongguk, with Jimin and Hoseok following him. He has been complaining about Namjoon ever since you guys left the hall where the group meditation took place. “I’m all for teamwork and shit but how the hell is group meditation going to help with that?”

“You know how these things work,” Hoseok shrugs. “Someone makes a plan, sells it as an experience that will unify your team and most people don’t ask questions. Meditation is good, but it has zero to do with teamwork.”

“Paintball makes more sense,” Yoongi mumbles, pausing to sip his beer. “Sure, it’s an unusual choice but if we work in teams, which we obviously will, at least we get to exercise teamwork.”

“Or violence,” Jeongguk chuckles. “If I were Seokjin, I wouldn’t want to be around Y/N with a gun.”

“Easy there, you moron,” you hit him over the shoulder. “Just because I am angry doesn’t mean I’ll turn to violence.”

“What, you’re going to spare him?” Jimin laughs and your eyes narrow at him, remembering that he is on the opposite team. Sure, you don’t know how you’re going to be divided in the actual game but he is one of Seokjin’s best friends. The same way Jeongguk would come running to you with information, you can imagine Jimin doing the same for Seokjin.

“Oh, if he’s on the opposite team, he’s going down,” you sound sure of yourself, which may or may not be a result of having a best friend who is an adrenaline junkie. Despite it not being your thing as much as it his, you’ve accompanied Jeongguk on many paintball, bungee jumping and zip line adventures.

“Here’s to Seokjin’s balls and whatever will be left of them later,” Yoongi raises his can of beer.

“Here, here!”

It is a disaster, a complete and total disaster and the only reason why it’s like this is because Namjoon refused to listen. Taehyung and Jeongguk, who were chosen as team leaders, both tried to explain to him that it would be best if we go restaurant against restaurant but the man did not listen.

And that ended in pure and utter betrayal left and right.

Hoseok, who was on Taehyung’s team, straight up shot Catnip’s waiter, who was on the same team as he was. Jimin, who was supposedly on your side, ended up chasing you for god knows how long before Jeongguk shot him, sacrificing his own team member for your sake. Poor Mina didn’t even bother trying as she stood behind Namjoon, who was standing in the middle of an empty field and yelling at you all to at least try to be loyal to your temporary teams. Someone shot him in the shoulder, and although you have no proof of this, you have a feeling that it was Yoongi.

And you? You were out for blood, specifically Kim Seokjin’s blood. Once Jeongguk got Jimin of your back and the two of them started yelling at each other, you were free to run and chase after that all, wide-shouldered son of a bitch.

You could see him from a mile away – it was tunnel vision, with you blatantly ignoring both your team members and your opponents as you run through the woods, hoping to catch up with him. None of it made sense anymore anyways, with no one even being sure which team they are actually on, despite the blue and red vests that were supposed to differentiate you.

You were not even close to him when the inevitable happens – with your eyesight solely on him, barely registering your surroundings, you trip and fall into a ditch – an actual ditch, meant to be a hideout. And it was, to one of the commis chefs who was on your team by vest, on Seokjin’s team in reality. You ended up rolling into the ditch and falling on top of the poor guy, hurting your ankle in the process.

It hurt, it really did – the only reason you did not wail is because you didn’t want that bastard to hear you. You found the little dignity you had left and you grab a hold of your injured ankle with all the strength you have.

“Are you okay?” the guy asks you once he finally managed to move around and free himself from the weight of your entire body.

“No,” you shake your head. “Are you?”

“I’ll live,” he sighs. “Let’s get you some help.”

Bless him, he truly is a sweetheart. Even though you obviously didn’t fall on him on purpose, he still could have gotten pissed. He did not hold it against you – in fact, he helped you get up and once he realized your right ankle is the source of your troubles, he let you lean on him as he struggled to get the both of you out of the ditch. One minute that felt like an eternity had passed with the two of you still struggling to get up before someone in a blue vest showed up.

Of course. It just had to be him. Out of all the people around you, it had to be him.

“Are you okay?” he asks and before either one of you could answer, he was diving down, offering you a hand. The last thing you wanted to do was to accept his offer but with the way you and the boy have been struggling for the past few minutes, you knew that you did not have much of an option.

You don’t answer his question but you do take his hand and you let him drag you up from the ditch, with his commis chef pushing you from behind. The moment you stood up, you realize that you can’t do that – your right ankle cannot handle the pressure of your body weight. You flinch and crouch down, with Seokjin trying to keep a hold of you – it doesn’t work but it does annoy you. With how close he is, you can smell the cologne he uses.

It’s ridiculous. How can one smell good after running in protective gear for half an hour? How?!

“What happened here?” he asks you as you give up on everything and simply sit on the ground, bending your leg so that you can try and take your shoe off to see if there is any visible damage.

“What the hell does it look like – I fell!” you snap at him in annoyance, taking a deep breath while you remind yourself that even though he’s an ass, he’s not the one to blame for this. “Thanks for your help, you can leave now.”

“Do you need me to carry you back or-?”

“Go away before I shoot you,” you are tempted to throw your shoe at him but you hold back the urge. “The game is still going on, I have a gun and I’m pretty sure that a paintball shot at close range will hurt like hell. Just leave.”

You can see the annoyance on his face as he gives up on you completely. He walks away, leaving you with a very confused guy who by now must be feeling very uncomfortable. “I’m going to go get some help,” he tells you and you nod – his help you are ready to accept.

“Fucking hell,” you examine your ankle for the hundredth time, shocked by how bloated it has gotten. The hotel doctor has assured you that there is no fracture but he also promised that you will be in pain for the next few days. Being bedridden for the rest of the trip didn’t seem like a bad idea but come Monday, you’ll have to be in the kitchen again and you don’t know if you’ll even be able to stand.

“Does it hurt?” Mina asks, looking slightly appalled at the sight of your swollen leg.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m not sure how I’m going to be able to work next week.”

“I’m going to get you more ice,” Jeongguk sighs, looking at you in worry. “You’re going to rest that leg as much as possible. I’ll keep you company and we can watch a movie or something, but you’re not leaving this room,” he orders. Not that you needed someone to tell you that. It’s a perfect excuse to avoid Namjoon and his hippy movement, as well as Seokjin and his stupid face.

“I’ll be here,” Mina reassures him and with one final look of worry, Jeongguk leaves the room. Two seconds of silence later, Mina snaps back to life and turns to you. “Y/N, I need to ask you something.”

“Huh?”

“I need you to do me a favor,” she tells you, looking back to the door, as if she is expecting someone to burst through it in the middle of her telling you some state secret. “Can you please make Jeongguk join us tonight? Like… tell him to not stay with you? If you’re okay with being alone, of course,” she backtracks almost immediately as she realizes that you might actually need someone to keep you company. “Ugh, just forget I said anything,” she shakes her head.

“Mina, chill,” you chuckle. “I hurt my leg, I’m not dying. I can be alone. But… why?”

You can guess, but you still want to hear it from her. It’s pretty common knowledge that Mina has a crush on Jeongguk, and after all this time, you are pretty sure that Jeongguk has noticed it too. He’s not always the brightest cookie in the box, especially not when it comes to women and their subtle flirtation tricks, but Mina has been getting more and more obvious lately.

“I just want to talk to him one on one,” she sighs, looking at you like a kicked puppy. “He’s not going to figure out anything on his own, he’s dumb. I have to draw it and explain it and if that’s what it takes, that’s what I want to do. I’ll never have a better chance than tonight.”

“Not a problem,” you smile at her, willing to help. “I’ll just tell him to join you guys because I want to get some sleep. He’ll listen to me. But hun, it wouldn’t be fair of me to not warn you. Jeongguk is not a passive guy. He can be dumb but if he’s into someone, he won’t hesitate to make a move. If he hasn’t made a move yet, it’s likely that he doesn’t see you that way.”

You feel horrible, but you have to warn her. Jeongguk is a go getter by nature and you’ve seen him not hesitating with women ever since you could remember. Yeah, he’s dumb but he’s not that dumb. You don’t want to see Mina get her hopes up and then have them crashing down because he’s not into her.

“I know,” she sighs. “I also know he’s still a bit hung up on his ex,” you shiver, annoyed at the very mention of that bitch. Mina would have been a much better choice than any of his exes, if you’re being honest. “But I need it over and done with, one way or another. I will tell him I’m into him and he’ll either reciprocate or he won’t. By the end of the night, I’ll either write a new chapter or close the book.”

“Then go for it,” you encourage her. “Get your closure. I’ll kick him out as soon as I can.”

“Thank you,” you let her hug you, even though she leaned on your injured leg a bit too much.

Kicking Jeongguk out was more of a challenge than you had originally expected. Being an amazing friend that he is, he just didn’t want to leave you alone and miserable, not to mention unable to walk. You had to insist multiple times that you want to be alone, that you will not move around unless it was absolutely necessary and that you will call him if you need his help.

Once alone, you were left with a bad selection of movies and thoughts about the telenovela going on downstairs. Mina and Jeongguk would truly make a good couple, you think. But Jeongguk… he is hard to predict. You can only hope that whatever happens, it doesn’t end in tears.

Halfway through a pathetic Lifetime Christmas movie and two steps away from sleep, a knock on your door rouses you from your daze. “Come in,” you call.

You expected Jeongguk, maybe Mina, coming to inform you of what had happened. Maybe Namjoon, who would be worried sick about whether or not you’ll be able to do your job in the days to come. Hoseok even, coming to check on his friend. The last person you had expected to see was Kim Seokjin.

“What are you doing here?” you’re too surprised to sound defensive.

“Hi,” he lifts his hand up in an awkward wave. “I just… I wanted to check and see how you were doing. And bring you some food,” it’s only then that you notice that he does have a plate of food in his hands.

“Is it poisoned?” you ask, and although you were joking, it wouldn’t be the first time that Kim Seokjin added a bit extra into your food. Before, he’d go overboard on spices and serve the food to you with an angelic smile. After the events of the past few days, you wouldn’t be surprised if he raised the stakes.

“I did not poison your food, Y/N,” he tells you and you notice that there is no humor in his words. Normally, when you accuse him of doing something you definitely won’t like, he teases and pretends you’re right, whether or not he actually did it. Now, he is as serious as you are. Another instance of him showing you that he knows he took it too far. “It’s atrocious, though. I hate hotel food.”

“Ugh,” you scrunch your nose in disgust, almost tasting the overcooked scrambled eggs that you’ve had this morning. Last night’s dinner was passable but this is not a fine dining location, that’s for sure. “What did you bring? Does it have any-“

“Peanuts? No, I checked,” he pipes up. You are left dumbfounded for a moment, wondering how his memory is good enough to remember your allergy. “How do you go about being an executive chef if you can’t eat a certain kind of food though?” he asks as he approaches your bed, handing you the plate of food. Steak, asparagus and mashed potatoes. One look at the steak is enough for you to know it’s most certainly going to be too well done. Seokjin moves away from you, choosing to lean on the wall as he waits for your answer. Well, it looks like you’re on talking terms now.

“It’s not that bad,” you tell him as you start cutting the food. “Worst reaction I ever had was a strong rash. I carry an epipen with me at all times and if something that has peanuts in it needs tasting, Jeongguk gets a go at it.”

“You trust him a lot, don’t you?” he asks, making you stop mid-chew.

“Of course I do,” you mumble with your mouth full. “He’s my best friend and my sous chef. He’s been my second in command for years, I’d trust him with my life. Don’t you feel the same about Jimin?” you ask, wondering if the friendship between them doesn’t run as deep as yours with Jeongguk, because you weren’t kidding – the dude has his moments, but you would trust him with your life.

“Of course I do,” he frowns at you. “It’s just that you and Jeongguk look like… two piece of a whole.”

“We are, we’re Dumb and Dumber,” you laugh, turning back to the food – at least the asparagus was grilled nicely.

“Are the two of you like… a thing?”

If your mouth was full, you would have chocked, without a doubt. Looking up at Seokjin, you find him looking away from you, almost bashfully. First he brings you food. Then he starts a civil conversation. And now he’s questioning your relationship with Jeongguk?!

“No, we’re not. Never were. Well, other than two days sophomore year, that is. But we realized quickly one of us would be murdered in cold blood if we upgrade from the friendship level,” you rant, wondering how it’s possible that you’ve actually forgot about having Jeongguk’s dick inside of you, once upon a time. In your mind, it just goes to show how your friendship truly is superior. “Wait, why are you even asking me that?”

“I’m just… trying to be friendly.”

“I’m sorry, but you being talkative and friendly is making me uneasy,” you tell him the truth. The last time the two of you have had a civil conversation… it was so long ago, you don’t even remember it. Was it freshman or sophomore year? And even back then, you never went past casual chit chat. With everything that has been happening recently, Seokjin being friendly is a huge red flag.

Whether it was malicious or not, it has become second nature for you to expect the worst from him. And in a very strange way, that is actually quite sad. A person who could have been a great friend or even just a colleague you enjoy working with, ended up being someone who annoyed you. Yes, at the beginning, it was funny, charming in a weird way too. It didn’t take long for it to turn sour and with the events from last week hanging above you, as much as you want to see the good side of your longtime rival, you just… can’t.

“I understand that you don’t want to be friends or anything like that,” he shakes his head and looks down at the ground, almost as if he’s frustrated with you but is too kind to show it. That has nothing to do with kindness because in your eyes, he’s holding back because he know he has messed up, big time. If you ever did something to him that could be considered mean, which you did not, it simply pales in comparison to him flat out stealing your recipe. “If I apologize as Seokjin to Y/N, you won’t listen,” it feels as if he’s talking to himself as he continues to avoid looking your way. “The only option I have is to apologize as a chef to another chef. You have every right to be angry with me. The recipe was not different enough for it to be considered my own creation. Had I known it would end up in the review, I never would have done it. But even if it did not, I shouldn’t have done it. And whether you can accept it or not, I truly am sorry.”

You don’t know him well enough to be certain whether his words are true or not, but he looks as if he is truly sorry. And while that definitely counts for something, it’s not enough, not really.

“I forgive you,” you sigh, choosing to move one lone asparagus around your plate instead of looking his way. “As long as it never happens again, I am willing to put it behind us. But that doesn’t change the humiliation I felt when I read that review,” finally, you muster the courage to look up at him, just in time to catch him swallowing a lump. “I can accept that you had no ill intent, but I have never felt more humiliated than I did the day that I read about someone else making my dish better than I did. And that’s not your fault. You’re a brilliant chef. That’s entirely on me.”

“Y/N, you know you’re an amazing chef, you know that…”

“I know,” you interrupt him, not exactly wanting to listen to him praising you. “I know I’m good. I don’t need your reassurance to be aware of that, but thank you anyways. I accept your apology and I’m willing to be cordial to you, if you can do the same thing. That being said… we’re not friends, Seokjin. We never were, you’ve made sure of that a long time ago.”

He looks dejected, and for a second, you feel like a bitch. You feel bad for not picking your words carefully, you feel bad that you’re the cause of the sad smile he offers you. The guilt doesn’t stay long, because as soon as you feel it, you remember the way you felt when you read that review. As much as you can forgive, your ego and self-respect will not let you forget.

“That’s okay,” he tells you, despite actually looking sad. It leaves you baffled because you can’t recall, not for the life of you, a time where he ever offered a friendly word or a helping hand. You know there were moments, you’re sure of it, but no matter how hard to try, none of them comes to mind. “I’m fine with it being a truce and not a friendship.”

“Okay,” you nod, wondering if you’ve ever felt this awkward in your entire life. There’s a fine line between being cold and plain rude and you feel as if you’ve walked very close to the wrong side of it. “Thank you for the food, that was very nice of you,” you add, wanting to at least appreciate the gesture.

“Don’t mention it. Have a good night, Y/N,” he says, giving you one final, small smile before turning around and heading towards the door. His hand is already on the doorknob when you speak up.

“Hey, I have a question,” it’s almost as if you had no control over the words that left your mouth. It’s too late to take them back now, because he turned around and is looking at you curiously. “Why?” you ask, feeling a complete idiot with asking him something so damn vague.

“Why did I make that dish?” he asks in confusion.

“No,” you shake your head, making an effort to sit up straighter, knowing you’ll be able to see him better from this angle, seeing as he’s still standing in the hallway. “You made the dish because it’s a damn good dish,” you say through a chuckle, feeling a little bit better about yourself when you see him grin and shake his head at your comment. “I’m just wondering how it got to this level of animosity between us. I can’t pinpoint when it started but at some point you took the regular teasing and jokes and just made it… too much. And I don’t really understand why.”

You normally didn’t think about it. You have a life, a job, a whole load of problems and your friends’ problems to take care of. You don’t spend your days wondering why Kim Seokjin could be such an ass sometimes. Now you are. Now, when you’re stuck here on the bed, unable to move because of your damn leg, you have more than enough time to wonder about his behavior. And with him being in your company, it’s easy to ask.

You’ve never seen Seokjin act this humble, shy even. Never before in your life, not even during the peaceful period between the two of you. You watch in amazement as his ears go red, him looking away from you and acting ashamed about you calling him out like this. You’re honestly baffled.

“I guess I just wanted to make you laugh.”

You’re too surprised to even come up with an adequate response. The middle school level pranks that turned into a full blow rivalry and competitiveness during your final years of school only to fully develop to straight up animosity in recent months? Because he wanted to make you laugh?

“Are you serious?” you ask, unsure if you should be angry or just stay confused. It makes zero sense.

“Sadly, I am,” he lets out a humorless chuckle. “I gotta get going. Enjoy your dinner, Y/N. Hope you recover fast,” he tells you and leaves without giving you a chance to say goodbye, although you’re not sure you’d been able to even say a single word. Staring at the wall in front of you, you are lost in thought when your door snaps open. Startled, you jump up, only to sigh in relief when you see it is Jeongguk.

“Did I hallucinate the whole thing or did Seokjin leave your room like a moment ago?”

“Nah, you didn’t,” you answer, still confused about the whole ordeal. “He brought me dinner.”

“You serious?” Jeongguk laughs as he plops down on the other side of your king size bed. “Your leg good?” he asks and you just nod, focusing back on moving around the sad little asparagus on your plate. “I guess tonight is just full of surprises. First Mina corners me to tell me she likes me, now Seokjin’s being nice… I swear there’s something in the water here.”

“Mina told you she likes you?” you ask, taking an opportunity to change the topic to something that isn’t about you. He nods, moving in to steal a piece of meat you’d cut up earlier. “What’d you say?”

“That I’m flattered but not interested,” he responds. Well, damn it. You can only hope Mina sticks to the mindset she had earlier: it doesn’t matter what the answer is, as long as her dilemma is over. “Don’t worry, I was very kind. She’s a friend for crying out loud, I’d never hurt her,” he adds, noticing the look of worry on your face.

“No, I know that,” you sigh, finally giving up on the food completely and leaning over to place the plate on your bedside table. “Why’d you say no? She’s a great girl. Smart, pretty, nice and hot. Full package.”

“She’s also a coworker,” he raises an eyebrow at you. “Don’t shit where you eat. I’ll never have anything with someone I work with, I promise you that. Plus, I don’t feel that way. I adore the girl but not like that.”

“No, I get it,” you nod. “It’s better that you were honest with her. It’ll hurt like a bitch, seeing as she’s been hung up on you for a while. But it’s way better than dragging her along.”

“You knew?” he gasps at you.

“Of course I knew,” you roll your eyes, deciding to kick him in the shin with your healthy leg. He whined, even though you didn’t kick him hard at all. “I think everyone knew except you. She was heart eyes around you, 24/7.”

“Well, damn,” he sighs. “If I had known I would have said something to her, to stop her for wasting time on me… I guess it is what it is… So, what did Seokjin want, other than to feed you?”

“Feed me?” you snort. “At least someone remembered to bring me food, thank you very much”

“I was gonna,” he pouts at you.

“Sure you were,” you ignore his whines. “He wanted to apologize for the recipe theft. And I did forgive him for it. I’m still pissed and I’ll probably be pissed for a long while but it’s not going to change anything, is it? I’ll just drown in negativity and that review will still be there.”

“True. But it’s nice of him to apologize. Maybe even too nice,” he adds, suddenly frowning in suspicion.

“Oh god, you’re not going to believe what he told me,” you laugh, going back to the end of your awkward conversation with Seokjin. “I asked him why he did the things he did over the past years and his response was that he wanted to make me laugh.”

“To make you laugh?” Jeongguk asks with his eyebrows raised.

“Yeah. I mean, I did laugh at the beginning, it was funny at first. Then it just… spiraled.”

“He wants to fuck you.”

“No,” you snort out, but the moment you see your best friend with his eyebrows raised, giving you a knowing look, you frown. “You think this was his version of ‘I like you so I’ll pull on your pigtails’?”

“I didn’t before but now I do,” he tells you with a shrug. “Honestly, that explains half the shit he did. If he’s not lying about doing it to make you laugh, he definitely has the hots for you. At least he did, back in school. That would also explain why Jimin teases him about you even when you can hear him.”

“You do have a point,” you mumble, remembering every damn time Jimin suggested that the two of you should fuck to solve your problems. Jimin is one of his closest friends, it’s not a stretch to think he knows something you don’t. “It sounds incredibly immature but also very Seokjin.”

“I know,” Jeongguk laughs. “You could recognize Mina’s behavior, I can recognize his. I’m honestly amazed that I did not figure it out sooner… I knew that it was an option but he never really gave me solid proof that my hunch isn’t wrong.”

“But it’s weird, isn’t it?” you ask, frowning at the thought. “Seokjin liking me? The two of us together?”

“Why would it be weird?” Jeongguk shrugs, as carefree as always. “He’s hot, you’re hot. You got along well before he pulled out his immature flirting tactics. Jimin might be onto something, with the two of you. Maybe you do need to fuck it out of your system,” he repeats the same words Jimin had used only a few days ago. Back then, it pissed you off. Now, they just confuse you.

“The guys hot, but his personality is shit,” you shake your head. “Not to mention that he failed to put two and two together when he did not make me laugh with the shit he pulled. Maybe he wanted something then but it’s too late for entertaining that option now.”

“If you say so,” your best friend laughs. “But if he’s suddenly acting this nice, maybe he wants to show you a side of him you might actually want to see.”

“You watch way too many romcoms.”

“And you don’t watch them enough,” he counters. “As smart as you are for some shit, you sometimes truly don’t see beyond what’s already in front of you. You’ll see it tomorrow. Now that it’s directly in front of you, you’ll start to realize that the dude just didn’t know how to flirt. Anyways, are you gonna eat your dinner or can I dig in?” he asks, looking at the plate of already cold food.

The man is an endless pit. “Knock yourself out,” you mumble, too last in your own thoughts.

Is this all your imagination or did Jeongguk have a point? If all he wanted was to try and flirt with you, Kim Seokjin is… dumb as fuck.

A/N: Hope you like it! Currently writing Part 3! Let me know what you guys think!

#jin smut #bts smut #jin scenario #bts scenario #jin x reader #jin x you #jin x y/n #jin au #bts au #jin fanfic #jin fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jin writing #glitter-kookiedough #glitterkookiedough

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gale-gentlepenguin · 4 years

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Gale’s Top 10 Best episodes of ML

This list is my personal opinion, and I don’t expect everyone to agree with all my picks (some are obviously Amazing, and some that may have been amazing to you might not be as great to me. and the reverse. Let me know your personal top 10 best)

10. Loveater

I know this is a controversial pick for number 10. Truth is, this episode was really damn good in terms of setting things up. (Spoilers for the season 3 finale)

The tension with how Marinette was dealing with her feelings,

The hilarity of the Get along Cloak Gabriel made.

The Beautiful friendship dynamic of Kagami, Adrien, and Marinette.

The episode was steeped in all sorts of tension and has one of the most dramatic cliffhangers out of any of the finale’s

We don't know whats gonna happen?

The akuma was... okay. The purpose of the akuma was to set up the next step of the plan, and in that regard, it succeeded.

Marinette had an emotional breakdown. It hurt to see, but it was so well done that you could FEEL the emotions in each character.

This episode had a lot of emotions riding on it and It gave SO MUCH build up. I would say if Miracle Queen didn't DROP the ball so much, this might be higher.

9. Startrain:

Now we get to the obviously good episode and My personal favorite new hero reveal episodes. Startrain.

It has the makings of a great episode. Marinette being responsible and being rewarded for it. Adrien being disobedient to his father and being adorable.

That sweet sweet Adrinette fluff that we all want.

Lila getting stopped.

And of course we learn some of Hawkmoth’s limitations (and how little he cares about his son.)

Max gets the horse miraculous and HE OWNS THAT TRANSFORMATION. My personal favorite new transformation sequences.

Max also being MVP

The akuma while not a direct fight, changed things up by having dangerous cars that they had to figure out.

I also love that they crashed into BigBen.

A solid episode and one that really shined in Season 3.

8. Heroes Day Parts 1 and 2

The season 2 two part finale didn't disappoint. We had hero team ups. A supercharged Hawkmoth, Nathalie stepping into the fray as Mayura

We had good ladynoir banter.

Adorable Adrinette moments that really help bring the moment for a climactic clash that seemed to bring hope on what season 3 may bring.

This episode was a breath of fresh air as it actually had Hawkmoth f***ing Planning in advance.

It was actually a pretty decent plan. I gotta give the guy props.

I liked all of the action, and I did find some of the bits funny.

Chat noir and Chloé’s interaction was funny as heck.

7. Volpina

Ah yes, the last episode of season 1. (at least chronologically)

It introduced Lila Rossi, the hype behind what or who she was did make things interesting.

A lying exchange student that Marinette calls out on her bs.

The dominos of Gabriel being Hawkmoth were all set up (and this was when people were still speculating)

Volpina gave an amazing akuma performance,

We had a good hero mess up with consequences (I say this as it is FEW and far between) Because we understand Marinette’s reasoning for doing it and it was a selfish action but doesn't ruin things. marinette does apologize but damage already done. (plus Lila is a b****)

We also get one step closer to who FU is. (Which in season 1 was huge)

It is still a solid episode and one of the best in season 1.

6. Stormy Weather

Personally the best animated episode on this list.

The animators really put there all into getting this one right.

The first episode to air and it started on a strong note.

The plot sets the pace for how a standard episode goes.

It has solid action.

The akuma is powerful, funny and has a fun battle.

Ladybug and chat noir have great banter in this.

Of course we get introduced to our heroes and I think this is the episode EVERYONE getting into the show should start with.

It is a perfect storm of good action, comedy and super hero goodness.

5. Darkowl

My favorite episode of season 2.

This was such a fun episode.

The principal of the school went from a joke to a legit threat that ALMOST WON!

The reason for akumatization was brutal and completely understandable.

Ladybug and chat noir were honestly trying to help the poor guy who wanted to be a hero.

This was also the moment tikki and Plagg found out about the OTHER chosen, which Plagg’s reaction says it all.

The episode shows how much they trust each other and I really love how it plays out.

Dark owl is the best Akuma of season 2 don't @ me.

4. Oblivio

Don't you f***ing judge me

You all know why this is on the list.

Okay, IGNORING THE BEAUTIFUL PERFECT WONDERFUL LADYNOIR KISS.

This episode was really well written.

The heroes lost their memories, their is a faceless monster after them which they need to stay one step ahead of or its curtains for them.

Marinette and Adrien get a second first meeting and really, this episode shows how perfect they are for each other.

If they both could only just... GRAH!!!

The last 3 minutes does come off as a slap to the face, since neither of them remember it. (I would talk about the salt from the fandom that resulted from this, but considering how bile-inducing it is to me, I will simply skip past it.)

It is a good episode, it has heart, comedy, and one I will never forget.

3. Evilustrator

My favorite akuma Evillustrator.

I LOVED this episode and for the longest time I would consider it my favorite.

Nathanael was such a delight, and his akuma was the first to actually disobey hawkmoth at first.

Plus, he is the first akuma to confess to Marinette. (Silencer was second)

And of course the BIRTH of the Marichat side of the fandom.

We can't forget that cute interaction.

It is a little indulgent of me to love this one. Nathanael deserved better.

But hey, he has a BF now.

So kudos. I suppose.

2. Chat Blanc

My all time favorite season 3 episode.

It has all of the damn fluff for adrinette

for ladynoir

even some Marichat.

It scratches the itch that Oblivio slightly touched.

It was cute but then... IT WAS HORRIFYING.

Time travel, alternative futures where s*** is destroyed.

Chat blanc is without a doubt the scariest akuma in terms of power.

The angst in this episode was spectacular.

This also gave us an Adrinette kiss, sweet wonderful goodness.

also Hair down Marinette.

Ladybug calling chat noir/Adrien “Her prince”

The fight with Chat blanc.

Hawkmoth just whipping out Adrien’s dead mother before smacking that boy like a baseball bat.

THE MOON GETS DESTROYED.

This episode throws a lot at you.

It is amazing, tragic and beautiful. This should have been the season 3 finale.

I stand by this statement.

1. Origins Parts 1 and 2

There was no way I could not have this as number 1.

I can talk about how well done the plot was.

The good reveal of characters.

Fu’s status as Guardian revealed.

Gabriel pretty much confirmed as HM.

Adrien and Marinette’s first meeting

Chat noir and Ladybug’s first meeting.

But no.

The Umbrella scene.

The moment we all knew this show was something special.

That theme that played as they talked.

We were dazzled just like Marinette.

Lightning struck and that was the moment I fell in love with the show.

It was the moment I knew Adrien and Marinette. This relationship was something special.

If you haven't watched it, I recommend watching origins. It is a wonderful beginning and I hope the ending will be just as beautiful

#ml #miraculous ladybug #adrinette #loveater #chat blanc #ml origins #heroes day #evillustrator #oblivio #stormy weather #volpina #darkowl #startrain #gale's top ten

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afterthelastreset · 4 years

Text

Rules Of One’s Soul Ch 1 Game Starts

(WARNING!! PLEASE READ: Mentioning of past abuse in this story, don't know if this counts as a trigger but just in case I'm putting this here.. Also Rouxls has a slight fear of touch, and bad anxiety and some stress in this story. Don't know if those count as triggers but might as well mention it in case. But nothing beyond that. You have been warned. Mak belongs to @coffincrawler)

What would you do if your job was to deal with a power hungry king who could snap at any moment? Quit? Haha! Only if thou wanted to end up in the dungeon or worse. But also that you were completly put in charge of something you had barely any knowlege of, forced to babysit a hyper mini king, and had to do whatever the king wanted at a moments notice any hour of any day. Oh! And this was all a 24/7 job. Congratulations. ......Being the duke was highly overrated but, nobility wasnt without sacrifice. Which was what he was ready to put up with when he agreed to first being the king's royal advisor. The king was always much of a brute, big, mean, and not afraid to show his displeasure for anything he didn't find to his liking. But at least the Queen always managed to calm him down-....Ah. Her highness- She was always such a caring and kind spirited lady. How she could possibly tolerate let alone love that big brute was a mystery in of itself, but then again he wasn't in any place to judge. Now was he? He was just the royal adviser(more like royal errand boy) to the king, but still he admired many things about her. Her courage, her endless kindness,....her beauty-...*ahem* Anyways, things were going well in thine kingdom for a while. Sure the constant nagging and intimidation of the king would get tiring but he was used to constant pressure from higher ranking people. The other three kings and queens were much more pleasent to be around, sometimes the neighboring Durrmee Royal family would visit. The Spades even eventually announced the coming of their soon to be child after a while...Huh. It seemed like everyone was starting to settle down it seems. Unfortuneatly nothing like this lasted forever- Everything changed the day the knight came. The Queen disappeared. The king went mad! The former kings locked away, the neighboring kingdom attacked, the foutain appearing, and the king slowly descending into more....destruction. The poor prince. He didn't deserve any of this. Noone deserved any of this actually. It seemed madness spread to others as well. Not too long after the jester was caught trying to slay an innocent bystander and was locked within the safest cell constructed. Not too long after that the royal magician quit along with some of the other staff...or thrown in the already crowded cells. But it didn't make any difference to him. He just had to keep on smiling and agreeing for his own sake. Day after day. Smile n agree. Smile n Agree.....Hopefully nothing bad happened. But enough rambling about his past. You dear readers are here to read the tale of his future are you not? Well then. It all began with one scared rudinn on one rainy night-

The rain had been pretty aweful this season. It only lasted a week or two, but it was always pretty dull to watch. Luckily he had been given of paperwork by his majesty to last hours to keep him occupied! Isn't his majesty so consideret? ..*ahem* anyways- He was swamped with paperwork, which was why he jumped when a knock came from the large wooden door. He obviously flinched and looked at the door. After a few more moments of silence, a timid voice finally broke it:

"...Uh..Sir D-Duke," a male voice sounded muffled by the door, "C-C-Can I come in? W-We have a uh-....s-small problem." The blue duke let out a small sigh of relief it wasn't who he intiatlly thought it was and gave a small smile. "Of courseth. Cometh in soilder."There was another pause, before the door creaked open and said rudinn soilder stuck their head in. The Duke smiled assuringly before waving his hand in a come in motion, to which the rudinn seemed comfortable enough to slither in on his command. "Noweth. What caneth I do for thou this-"...He paused before looking at the clock on the wall. Good golly is was already almost midnight. "...Night?" The rudinn hesitated at first, wringing his hands together and shaking slightly. Even though Rouxls was a much better boss than the king was, he still had to report every progress TO the king and that's why most were nervous when it came to giving the daily reports. "W-Well Sir bossman. Sir. U-Um...I came t-to deliver the day's r-report?" The duke stared at him. "Now? Tis nearly thine next day. Why hast thou come to deliver it so latest?" The rudinn shrank more. "Well...T-That's the problem,Sir Puzzle man. Um....We're h-having a problem w-with one of the prisoners? " Rouxls's confusion must've reflected on his face because the rudinn winced. "It's the um....J-Jester, S-Sir." "Oh..Him." The mad jester was always troublesome. Ever since his capture and imprisonment, he's always found new ways to scare the guards. Babbling about how the King was merely using them all as pawns like in a game, or howling about chaos or something. He never really recalled the jester much, purple jolly fellow, always getting into trouble. Ounce put green hair dye in his shampoo bottle as a prank-.....He'd never forget that, his hair was an ugly green for a month. The guards were pretty freaked out by him, but he didn't see the big deal as long as we was behind bars. "So what thou's problem?" "Um.....H-He's acting....really strange tonight. L-Like..r-really freaky. And uh....No one w-wants to give him his food." "Well, then thy answer tis simple really. Let him go hungry. Maybe that willst teaches him a lesson about his behavior." The rudinn looked even more distressed if possible. ''Um...We kinda can't? The King's d-doing his w-w-weekly insp-p-pection tomorrow, Sir. A-And he gets r-really angry when I-it's not done." Rouxls froze at those words. Weekly inspection...? oh no- HOW COULD HE HAVE FORGOTTEN?! Well- He has been swamped in paper work for the last few hours, so he guessed he could've forgotten,, but the king wouldn't take his excuse. His body began to shake lightly from the memories of the king's anger. Teeth bared, claws out, pain on his face- He immediately shook his head and looked back to the Rudinn with a stern face. "W-Well getest someone down there and feed him something!" "W-We can't." "Why not?" "N-No one wants to go down there, b-but we don't want to see the k-king mad either so..Um...W-We were hoping YOU would do it?" They stared at each other, before Rouxls groaned and moved his eyes down to the mountain of paperwork that STILL needed to be finished before tomorrow. Too many things were always thrown at him weren't they? But...he was always used to bearing the brunt of the hard work, might as well go do it and get it over with. What could've been so hard about feeding one prisoner? He sighed and reached a hand up to run through his white hair. "Fineth. Just..telleth me where I can findest this 'freaky'prisoner thou speakest of?" *********************************************************************************************** DING! The duke made an obvious flinch when he felt the elevator stopped and made the comical dinging noise. He certainly wasn't expecting the sudden darkness greeting him when the doors opened up, luckily there were torches along the side of the darkened staircase that lead down into...well, he guessed the cell, but this seemed a little extreme for one prisoner. Maybe a suitable punishment for the king- He shook his head and meekly leaned his head out a bit to peer past the darkness. He couldn't see anything except barely the stairs and what looked like bars maybe? But he didn't see or hear any evidence of anyone down there? Perhaps this Jevil person was sleeping? Made no difference to him. That just means it'll be easier for him. Taking a deep breath, he slowly stepped out of the elevator and onto the stairs. ..Nothing! Sighing, he straightened up his back and made his way down more confidently. There was nothing to worry about. Rudinns always worry too much anyways, getting him to do all the work when he already had so much to do. He muttered to himself irritatedly, nothing made him more irritated than being interrupted in the middle of work. This would take all night at this rate. The poor duke failed to see the small shadow stirring in the darkness below, or the two small yellow dots that peeked out at him curiously. The yellow pupils blinked up at him from the dark, and a fanged smile slowly grew across his face. OH! A new visitor! Different from the usually rudinns or occasional hathy who usually just dropped his food off and left as quickly as they could, quite rude not to say hello. But THIS one- The worm's biolumeniscent hair shone in the dark and sparkled as he walked down the stairs towards him, a scowl on his face. He muttered some things under his breath he couldn't quite make out, but that didn't ,matter to him. It'd been so long since he'd seen a new face, though he looked very familiar....Hey. Wasn't this person the prince's babysitter or something? Oh! Wait a second. It was the funny fellow called Kaard wasn't it. Yes. Rouxls kaard. Biggest stick in the mud other than the spade. He chuckled lightly remembering the many pranks he used to pull. Always had this serious aura around him. No fun that one. This was going to be fun! He held what looked like the usual mush of food he was given to eat, no doubt to deliver it like the rest, but the way he looked so done with life already- It was too hilarious! He finally let out a stream of high pitched giggles at the sight, just as the duke was bending over to set the tray down by the bars. Making the worm freeze and drop the tray the last few inches to the ground with a clatter. He stared directly into the cage where to his horror, two yellow pupils were staring only a few feet away. The two silently stared at each other until one spoke. "Well, well. A new visitor, visitor to my little freedom!" The pupils blinked. The voice behind it sounded a little too pleased to be seeing him. "What brings you all the way down, down?" The worm didn't say anything. So when the pupils suddenly sprinted at him, he yelped and slammed his eyes shut for cover. ….When nothing happened, he slowly reopened them, but he wished he hadn't. Because staring at him a feet or two from his face was the purple imp from his faint memories, but he never remembered him being so terrifying! When he still didn't answer, the imp hummed. "What's the matter, matter? I got your tongue, tongue silly man? BWAHAHA!" "..duke.." He paused. "Hmm. What was that?" "I-I-..." The duke licked his lips nervously. A few sweat beads of slime ran down his obviously frightened looking face. "It's D-Duke to t-t-thou, P-Peasant." The thing cooed. "Oh. I see you've obtained a title.Hehehe." Somehow he shifted his body to lay on his side in mid air, with his head in his hand. "A title is just that, that. A silly little thing to call yourself, yourself.~...But now that begs a question. What brings the duke, duke to my humble little freedom? Freedom." The duke was still obviously still frozen with fear with his eyes wide as plates, but confusion still seeped it's way into him. Freedom? He calls being in a cell in the middle of the dark feet under ground for years free? He really was mad wasn't he? He really should get out of there soon, but the fact this crazy person was still staring at him like prey was quite unsettling- Wait. He asked something right? Why he was down there? "I-I...T-Thou has scared m-mine workers into not giving thee substance...*ahem* W-With t-t-thine king checking p-p-progress tomorrow, I-I can't afford m-mistakes." The floating man hummed and it finally accured to Rouxls that he was balancing on his tail. What oddity is he? "What would one little me, me do to anger such a man?" …..Rouxls blinked. Certainly not the question he was expecting, but- "Art thou insane? Doth thee knowest what thine king w-w-will doth to mineself if thy rules are not followed accordingly?!" The jester merely shrugged. "I haven't the faintest idea,idea. But life is too chaotic without the stress, stress of trying to follow all of HIS rules, rules. Now isn't it?" "On thine contrary. I wouldst rather keepest mine head on mine shoulders than to risk displeasing his majesty. Following the rules is needed on a daily basis." At that he let off more high pitched cackling. "After all these years, years he still has the pieces of his never ending cruelity, cruelity. *tch* And they say Im mad and foolish." "Thoust tried to killeth thine king. Of courseth he woulst locks thee up like the traitor thou are!" The fear was slowly starting to be replaced with annoyance at the feind. "I have wasted enough of mine time here. "He slowly leaned back up to a standing position. Thou haseth thine food, perhaps you'd be wiser than to scareth off thine food supply. Or else starve to death." His ears perked up. "Is that a threat I hear oh duke?~" "Taketh it how thou wants to! Im nay afraid of a mad fool trapped behind bars of coldst steele." "Is that so?" His eyes lit up with an unknown glee. ''Well, then how about a little numbers, numbers game?The rules are simple to play, play?~" Rouxls gave him an even more annoyed look. He had important work to do and this fool wanted to play games. "Nay! I haveth no time for your idotic foolishness- EEEEE!" A death grip had wrapped his wrist and attatched to it was the smiling lunatic with a gigantic grin, which only grew hearing the Duke's squeal and the way his confidence has easily been returned to fear. "Oh, come now, Duke.~ It's simple really. All you have to do is run while I count how long your-"

Rouxls let out a squeak as a pulsation ripped through their bodies and simaltaniously pulled his hand away from the equally startled imp, who's tail pulled him back a few feet and his eyes widened at the sudden feeling. Rouxls's soul thumped hard against his chest to the point he thought it was going to burst from his chest, then as suddenly as it came it left and his soul slowed down and his lungs heaved out. Rouxls stood there. Blinking. D-Did he...Did he just have a soul attack? B-B-But then, where was the pain? HE should've been flopping on the ground like a fish. Maybe an anxiety attack? Nay. Those never felt like electricity was surging through him. It must've been a giant zap of static cling. The two just stood there as the effects wore off and slowly looked at each other. Jevil was the first to move as he slowly looked down at his paw, his button eye spinning. He stared at his paw for a moment before closing it and giving Rouxls a wide eyes look. Rouxls could see the blue shape of his soul slightly from under his clothes as it faded away....Ok. Weird side affects for static cling. "You?" The voice brought Rouxls back to Jevil as he blinked in confusion. "I-I..I what?" Jevil didn't seem to notice he said anything and instead look back down at his hands in pure confusion. "I didn't think I'd ever see the day, day...and with someone so...opposite, opposite!" He turned back to the kaard with a newfound glee on his face. That spooked and confused him to no end. In one swift moment, the thing lunged at the bars and reached a clawed hand out. ROuxls obviously yelped and tried to back away but the clawed hand caught onto the front of his shirt. With a hard yank, the duke was slammed against the bars and once again a spike of absolute terror washed over him. Yellow eyes looked at him. What he didn't know was that Jevil was drinking in every detail of his face. He never noticed but the duke seemed to have dawned a few scars to his otherwise flawless features, must've been a fight or two. He surely was a fascinating one wasn't he? Oooh! He could feel his soul lighting up with this new found "How marvelous, marvelous! A new player and game, game!" Genuine excitment rang through a genuine happy smile, though the terrified Rouxls didn't seem to notice. His soul beat against his check a mile a minute! He could burst from what he purseived as fear any second, not that jevil noticed. "Ehehehehe! So this is where it all begins, begins! " He HAD to get out of there! He pulled his head back and got his arms up ready to shove this pest off himself- He froze. Something wet slid against the side of his cheek and he gave off a high pitched whine. His body shook lightly- And then he thrashed uncontrollably. His brain having one goal. GET AWAY FROM HIM! Jevil was taken aback and loosened his grip on the blue man. The duke fell backwards and instantly began to shuffle back- "Wha- Hey! Wait, wait!" He didn't listen. Stumbling and desperately trying to breath, he ran back up the stairs towards the elevator and into it. The up button was spammed practically into nothing and the similar ding noise was heard as the doors slowly closed off the darkness. As the machine shifted as it slowly went up, the duke collapsed against the side wall and slid down to the floor breathing heavily. What the actually f*ck was that?!

…………………...……...……......……...……...…...…......………............…...…...…...…...…...…..................…...……......……...…...……………......………...…...…... He shouldn't have done that. He shouldn't be doing ANY of this. What would one think if they knew that the King's appointed Duke of Puzzles, caretaker of the prince, and master of law and order would be feeling absolutely weak in the presence of an insolent clown?! NO! He wasn't weak! Rouxls Kaard was anything but weak. He was just....uh..a little unprepared for the absolute madness of the knave when they first encountered. Yes. That's it! Not even the great Duke of Puzzles could get all first impressions right.

He wasn't sure of the strange feeling in his gut whenever his mind revolved around back to THAT night. The strength of those ghastly hands latching onto him and slamming him into the cold steel, near those sickly glowing eyes. The very thought of those things made him shudder and get a sick feeling in his stomach. In a way, he was more terrorfying than thy king. At least with him you could tell when the Spade was displeased in anyway, but there's no feeling behind a mad man's smile. So. The answer to recovery was to just avoid the place and do his best to push those thoughts deep down and try to distract himself.

And for a while. It actually worked.

He managed to busy himself by making an actual working piece of his work the king seemed pleased with. He called it, A Control Crown. Though it still could use some work as it only worked on more...um. Less smart beings of the realm. And the King's annoying worm(but much better company keeper) of a son had gotten himself into plenty of shenanigans the Duke had to fix or pull him out of. It had been maybe a few months since the incident and he rarely thought of any of that encounter. So all was well with the Duke of Puzzle. Thou the duke did experience a strange tugging or nagging feeling like he was missing something. Oh well. None of it mattered.

At least. Not until that night.

A storm had decided to make itself present that night much to the annoyance and fear of the guards. For it was tonight that the prisoner better who some had called Jevil -odd name if you asked him- once again decided now would be the right time to act up and strike fear into the poor guards in charge of the food supply to him. Which also meant none wanted to go down there. Which ultimately meant the duty would fall on the next upper person in charge.

.....Which meant it was up to him. To settle things. And go down there. With that THING!

He honestly almost threw up the mac and cheese Lancer and himself ate for lunch when he found out. But he was the Duke of Puzzles, appointed by the King himself. Law keeping was one of his best assets, which was why he was put in charge of these guards. So, with a heavy stomach and light head, he assured any listening he'd once again take care of the 'little worm' and put a stop to this all. Oh,if only he could have seen the familiar frozen grin plastered on his face at the moment. It only got worse when he stepped into the elevator and pushed the button to the unknown level.

Once the doors closed, the Duke let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and immediately reached to clutch at the tufts of shiny snow white hair on his head.

"What the f*cketh have I done?!" He breathed between gasping breaths. He wasn't even sure how stupid he was at this point! Why didn't he just tell them to let the stupid prisoner go hungry just for tonight and not bother!? This was absolute madness. Like kicking a live bee nest to anger the pathetic insects-

Bing!

"HA!" The Duke let out a short high pitched squeak of fright from the doors reopening to reveal the beginnings of a staircase and darkness below. He hoped no one heard him. A high pitched series of laughter ruined that hope.

"Oh, how fun,fun! A Duke of no suit has come once again, again to seek what he thinks he rules over!" He flinched when he faintly saw two glowing pinpricks from down below. "How interesting, interesting.~ Have you come to finally play, play?~"

He stood there frozen at the sight of yellow eyes waiting for his answer. The feeling of that insolent's slimey tongue grazing his cheek and the feeling of complete helplessness came rushing back to him in a heart beat. Gathering what pride and dignity he had left, the Duke casually stood straight up and gave an annoyed look. He tried to invision himself talking to a rookie guard or Lancer whenever he had to explain something. He just had to remember. HE was the one in charge. Not some bumbling knave that couldn't even harm him from his prison all the way down below.

"I-It has cometh to mine attention that thou art scaring the very guards that feed you!" He shouted down and waited for a response. But none came. The eyes didn't even blink. So he nervously licked his lips and continued. "If thou wishes to keep getting proper treatment from them in the future then thou needs to follow the rules set in place."

Felling a little more confident. He decided to yell louder. He was in charge. Not him. He had no control over the situation. He made the rules.

"Thou art getting on mine nerves and I do not wish to heareth about thine useless chatters or antics! I haveth no time to deal with thee any longer! I have more important matters to deal with than the rambles of an absolute mad man!! So keepest thine voice down and cease your useless shenanigans at once!!"

His voice echoed throughout the silent prison as the yellow eyes continued their silent watching. Rouxls stared down at the lowlife a little longer before smiling. That was until the pinpricks disappeared as the crazy fool threw his head back in laughter at the stupid show he just witnessed. Rouxls felt his ears press to his sides and his stomach drop hard. This wasn't the reaction he had hoped. All too soon the eyes were back along with a mocking voice.

"What a shame! What a shame! Thinking he could order the only one free, free in the whole kingdom!~ How amusing!~ How fun!! FUN!!~" Rouxls didn't like the change in tone of the deranged jester's voice. It almost sounded intrigued. And that's what scared him most. "I never had so much fun,fun with another pawn before! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!! Tell me Rouxls Kaard. If you are in charge, charge then why are you too afraid to play this little game, game of yours?~ Hmm."

The Duke didn't say anything at first. The heavy scent of fear consuming him and making his head spin.

"I.....I shan't need to e-explain myself to the likes of you! I prefer not to waste mine valuable time on dealing with your insolent empty words. Thou can pretend with thine mind games all thee wishes but Rouxls Kaard is nay fool!" He pointed a hand at him. " For you see, I have thought of the possibility of thou using these games to trickest me into coming in range of your dastardly grip! But I shan't be fooled again so easily! For by me staying far from thine's hold then thou shall not have a open point to strike! Who's winning who's game now if thou never even got a chance to make his first move?!"

"Yet, yet I'm not the one who's playing dirty.~ What fun is a game if one wins just because, because he cheats out of fear?~"

"Hark thee little knave!!" He bellowed in absolute anger like he just threw dirt on his new suit. "What rules are laid down is followed and I shan't listen to you any longer!" He turned back towards the entrance to the elevator with a huff.

The voice cooed in amusement. "BWAHAHA! A shame that the rules card is running like a defeated child,child at a game of checkers.~ My next visitor will be pleased, pleased to hear about the cowardly leader of a Duke that masters, masters over them!~"

He froze. Did he just-...? No. He couldn't have just....But he did! Taking a breath, the duke world around to face the yellow eyes with anger.

"Thou insolent, foolish WORM!!" He bellowed at the top of his lungs. Making the jester laugh again as the duke began to march towards the stairs in complete anger that his authority would be tested by a common criminal. As he stomped his way down, he remembered to keep his distance with time when he reached the bottom. Now face to face with the clown behind the bars. Even with his limited vision, he could make out the jester's pleased smile on his face. "You DARE to threaten me with useless rumors of mine reputation?!"

"Hehehe. Not a threat and not, not a rumor.~ Just facts straight and simple.~ But now that you're her, here-" The bells on him errily chimed as he tilted his head. "I find you're more fun, fun to play with.~ Tell me, tell me. Did you figure out the game, game we started last visit?"

Rouxls huffed. "You mean that useless asult on mine person? BAH! I refused to even think about such things to do with the likes of thou, Jevil!"

A sudden spark seemed to light up in the jester as his attention became a bit more...focused.

"Ooh!~ So you learnt my name, name?~ BWAHAHA! Tell me, oh Duke of rules and puzzles. Have you any idea of what YOU have started with this game, game of ours you triggered? Are not the feelings and tugs at your very, very core not clues to this puzzle you can't seem to solve?~"

The duke gave the madman a confused look at the nonsense he was spouting out of his mouth. Was this a battle of wits or riddles? If so he won either way. He didn't intend on ever coming back or giving this creature any more of his precious time after this. What was the point if he never made sense anyhow?

"Was does thou even mean? This is nay puzzle! Tis a riddle of a mad fool that shan't ever be solved!"

"Hmm. Perhaps. Perhaps. But tell me this Duke, and tell me true. True." A hand stuck itself out of the bars to point at him, making him flinch. "Did you not have a feeling of need,need or incompletion when you first left this place, place!? Is it now gone?! Replaced with the need to prove yourself! To, to the very person you can never win or lose against in this corrupted. CORRUPTED EMPIRE YOU CALL HOME, HOME!!"

It felt like the walls and darkness themselves were vibrating with the booming voice of the smaller floating man. Rouxls couldn't even bring himself to speak and Jevil's smile suddenly became knowing instead of amused.

"THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN REALLY PLAY A GAME!! GAME!! THAT MATCHES YOUR VERY OWN!! ROUXLS KAARD!! OUR FIRST MEETING, MEETING WAS NEVER OUR LAST!! THE VERY MOMENT WE MADE CONTACT, CONTACT IT SEALED US AND FATE INTERTWINED WITHIN MY FREEDOM, FREEDOM AND YOUR IMPRISONMENT!! THE BEING OF PERFECT ORDER AGAINST THE TRUE EMBODYMENT OF RAW CHAOS!! CHAOS!!"

The last word felt like a wave of sound hit him and sent the duke stumbling forward a few steps almost falling to his face before he looked up at the absolute monster clutching the bars in absolute raw horror.

"You....You're absolutely mad!!"

Jevil chuckled again. "Maybe that's true. Maybe I am insane. Insane. But I am truly the only free, free person....But you know. It's gotten rather boring,boring and dare I saw lonely in my little freedom. Duke of puzzles. I haven't really, really felt like anyone but my old friend Seam could begin to make me this amused, amused." Maybe his insanity was rubbing off onto Rouxls but he could've sworn he saw Jevil's smile slipping a little. "I will always regret happened between us, us. But, it seems fate has directed you towards me, hmm?"

"What?....I-I...I still haven't the faintest idea thou is sputtering out!"

"Heh. You still don't get, get it do you, Rouxls?" He gave a hum and might have sounded like a disapproved parent if he wasn't still smiling though me. "Interesting, interesting. Tell me. Do you know the concept of soulmates?~"

Silence.

The frozen duke stared at the floating creature inside the cage as his brain tried to process this. Yes. He knew what a soulmate was. What an absolutely stupid question. Everyone knows a soulmate is the one person in life you feel compelled towards. Like finally putting the final missing piece of a puzzle together-.....Wait.

Wait a minute.

The realization must've reflected in his eyes because Jevil's smile became more soft if that was even possible for a mad man.

".....No...NO! Nononononononono! NO!!" He hands flew up to clutch his head. The floor felt like it was consuming him with how much his body fell forward to it's knees. "NO! NO! THOU TIS LYING!! MORE MIND GAMES!!" He shouted desperately at the jester who just smiled warmly back, like he was a dear old friend stopping by to grab a chat. His eyes searched for any indicators of mind games or a sick joke. "I...I can't anything to you but a toy for your amusement! Let alone thou's s-soul....IT"S NOT TRUE! I SHAN'T HEAR OF IT!! LIES!! ALL OF IT LIES-AH!!"

The same strength pressed him against the same bars. And the once proud duke whimpered like a dog when facing the same eyes from his nightmares.

"Naïve, naïve little duke." His voice was like he was trying to comfort a child and Rouxls let out a whimper when a clawed hand cupped his chin. His face was closer now. Why wasn't his body reacting!? He could feel the hot breath of the jester before he spoke next. "One cannot deny the rules, rules set down by fate now. Can you?~ We balance and do our dance, dance like chest pieces on a bourd. One never belonging to a suit, suit or getting the upper hand. But...we never lose, lose either.~"

The contact was warm, heated and made the duke feel a sudden rush of strange belonging filled with another stronger feeling of throwing up. Both feelings intensified when the crazy jester slightly loosened his grip on the frozen man's shoulder when something that felt strangely similar to a rope wrapped around his torso. Jevil didn't notice the white shiny liquid beginning to sting the duke's eyes or the sudden swing until something came impacting into his face. The force sending the smaller man a few feet away to the ground with a loud "OH!". Instantly when the contact was broken the duke threw himself back onto his rear and shuffled back towards the stairs. Gagging and clutching at his chest. Trying his dammed hardest not to give in to the urge to puke. A slight pain throbbed in his hand from where it struck the jester.

He coughed and sputtered while taking gulps of air through his mouth to help control himself. A small silence went by before the duke shakily looked at the direction of the man who had once again violated his personal being. At first he thought he was imagining it through the tears or the rushed feelings spiked through him, but no. Jevil was standing there instead of floating. One hand clutching the bars while the other cupped the cheek he guess he must've hit. A look of pure shock on the jester's face. Of the ounce proud man now reduced to a shaking crying mess.

Neither said anything for a moment before jevil spoke.

"You're....crying. Crying?" He blinked and removed the hand from his cheek to inspect it. Like the answers were written on his palm. "You...hit me, me?"

"WELL WHAT DID THOU EXPECT YOU GOD DAMMED FOOL!?!?" Both flinched at the sudden raged tone that seemed to rush out of him. Jevil more than him. But the angry feelings overtook any other rational thoughts. "DID THOU SERIOUSLY THINK UP THIS WHOLE CRAZY DELUSIONAL F-FANTASY OF ROMANCE TO GO ALONG WITH YOUR PATHETIC TRAGETY STORY LIKEST SOME SICK NOVEL WRITTEN BY A COMMONER!?!?"

Jevil stared long and hard before an annoyed expression came over him. "Fantasy, fantasy?.....DELUSIONAL TO MY OWN FEELINGS!?" He growled and gripped the bars of his caged prison. "YOU DARE SIT THERE, THERE AND CALL ME, ME A FOOL FOR RECONGNIZING THE PLAIN TRUTH WHEN NO ONE ELSE DOES, DOES?!"

This time it was the duke's turn to give a dry laugh. "HA! YOU CALL WHAT JUST HAPPENED A TRUEST EVENT!? AND YOU ACTUALLY EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE THOU'S GESTURE LIKE A NORMAL DARKNER'S?!"

Jevil's face immediately dropped. Rouxls sat there as both heavily breathed from the events. Before the duke slowly stood up onto wobbly legs.

"E-Even...if I did think thou's affections were true, what reason would I have t-to accept or believe when the person who gives it is a prisoner? Seam was in his righteth mind to exit this madness when he did-"

A low growl directed him back to the now angry jester. Anger was a new expression for him but right now he didn't care. Rouxls felt sick, covered in sweaty slime and tears, and equally angry.

''Don't bring Seam, Seam into this."

"Or what!? Thou'll attack me with more unwanted affection! This isn't exactly a splendid walk in the dungeon foreth me!"

The imp let out another growl before pointing another clawed hand at him. "You cannot, cannot tell me you can't feel-"

"I DON'T!!" The loud voice of the duke echoed throughout the entirety of the prison cell. Silencing anymore rambling from either end. "I tire of these useless antics a-and....AND I HAVETH ENOUGTH ON MINE PLATE AS TIS IS!!" He pointed a hand at him. "I SHAN'T EVER RETURN TO DEAL WITH THOU'S ANTICS AND I WILL NEVER SEE YOU AS MORE THAN THE ONE WHO TOILS WITH MINE EMOTIONS!! GOOD MORROW, WORM!!"

He turned and began stomping his way back up the stairs towards the open doors of the elevator. Ignoring the sudden expression on the imp's face.

"W-What?....ROUXLS!! You can't leave a game unfinished once you start to play, play!! It hasn't even finished!...R-Rouxls? Y-You can't forfit this game, game.....Not when I-...COME BACK, BACK!!"

He paid the creature no mind while he continued climbing up the stairs-...Which was a mistake.

An animalistic shriek pierced the air louder than anything he ever heard from the king. A shudder ran up his spine and only one thought shot through his head.

RUN!

He sprinted towards the exit up ahead. Almost tripping over his own two feet a couple times in his panicked haste to get out. Something whizzed by his head and embeaded itself into the wall above his form as more began whizzing past him. The animalistic screaming still present. One of the thing grazed his shoulder causing him to yelp in pain as a cut instantly formed. He ran into the elevator and practically spammed the up button as more of those sharp objects continued to fly around him. The doors slowly closed. Muffling the shrieking and little metallic thuds. Slowly, the elevator began to steadily rise leaving the noise behind him.

Unable to withstand the wild roller coaster of emotions moving through him, Rouxls collapsed against the side of the elevator as it continued to rise. His body shook uncontrollably as he was finally able to take a look at the things that were flung at him.....Hearts. These things were all hearts. He choked.

The once proud Duke of Puzzles reduced himself to a sobbing crying mess as the elevator continued to rise.

#Deltarune #seam x jevil #jevil x rouxls #jevil x seam #Rouxls Kaard x Seam #Seaxls #Nosuit

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cyn-00 · 4 years

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Moreid one shot, 5 - "spare you"

Season 6, episode 19 "With friends like these" (the one where Reid is having one of his headaches while they're delivering a profile, hence Morgan follows him to the bathroom to talk to him)

Back at it again with another unrequested long ass fic

Update like 5 months later: I basically re-wrote this. Well, parts of it; and I added other parts

Read it on AO3

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Reid had been behaving weirdly for weeks now. Everyone on the team had noticed and asked, but he'd always given vague answers.

One would expect that only Morgan, aka his boyfriend, would know something more about it and, in fact, the others had tried to ask him too. Truth was, not even Morgan had it quite figured out. Which was concerning.

He'd tried to ask Reid what was going on several times: while they were working on cases, on the jet, in private, even at home, the few times in those past weeks that he had convinced him to come over, to try and make him spit it out. At a certain point, he just gave up. But seeing someone you love so much suffer and try to cope with something clearly bigger than them, isn't fun. Especially if you think that maybe you could do something about it, if only they let you.

The times he'd asked, Reid had told him that it was his migraine, which caused him insomnia and vice versa, in an endless vicious cycle. That could've been true: it happened to him from time to time. Especially after the drug problem he had dealt with a couple of years before; but Morgan didn't know much about that because they weren't "dating" at that time - and if Reid was one to keep things secret from him as a couple, imagine when they were just friends.

They were delivering the profile to the local pd agents, and Reid was clearly distracted. He didn't say a word during the whole thing, except when Hotch directly called him out to explain which was the unsub's "comfort zone".

Since they were all used to him intervening to give some statistics or make comparisons with other famous criminals, to the point where, sometimes, Hotch or Morgan had to shut him up because he was getting too excited; it was safe to say that such behavior wasn't normal for Spencer.

In that specific situation, though, it was understandable that he wasn't saying anything: first of all, the unsub was supposedly schizophrenic, and when an unsub showed signs of mental illness - let alone if it was the same his mom had - it was very triggering for Reid. But most of all, it was their first case after Emily's "death".

"If you find someone who fits this description, let the sheriff know. Thank you for your attention." Hotch concluded.

Reid was still sitting on the desk. The moment Morgan's eyes met his for a split second, he stood up and immediately strode toward the bathroom; like he had been "caught" and had to flee as far as his feet could take him.

Spencer's headache was killing him in that moment. He hoped not to look so clearly uncomfortable, but he knew Derek - and literally everyone else - had noticed. And he knew that time he'd have to tell him the truth. He was NOT enjoying the continuous lying at all, especially when it came to lying to Derek. His Derek. It wasn't fair to him.

He walked toward the bathroom as fast as possible so that the others wouldn't have the time to ask him what was going on. On the other hand though, to Morgan that must have clearly looked like Reid was unspokenly asking for him to follow, and that he was ready to finally talk - which he wasn't. He would NEVER be ready to talk about it.

Spencer got in the bathroom, but couldn't hear Derek's footsteps yet. Maybe Hotch had to tell him something? Maybe he was too busy on the case to worry about his stupid headache? Maybe he wasn't even going to follow him in the first place, because he was done with his bullshit? No, that surely wasn't possible. And anyway Reid didn't even know whether he was hoping for that to be true or not.

He closed the door, - noise made the headaches way worse - washed his face and started taking deep breaths, which was what he usually did to try and make the migraine better; obviously failing 9 times out of 10.

He finally heard someone open the door, hoping it wasn't any member of the team apart from Morgan or - even worse - some officer who would've thought he was crazy.

When Morgan entered the bathroom, he found Reid bending over the sink, leaning on his arms with his head down. He had a feeling he was gonna talk for real, this time, instead of using lame excuses or avoiding the topic completely.

Reid finally found the courage to look up at him, not directly, but through the mirror - though even just that was enough to make him nervous.

Morgan was now right beside him, with his arms crossed on his broad chest, like he was waiting for him to talk first. Reid sighed and finally turned around, leaning on the sink. But he couldn't bring himself to talk: he didn't even know where to start.

Derek lightly put his index under Spencer's chin and raised his face, to make him look into his eyes instead of facing the ground.

"I'm not here to judge you. Is that what you want me to say so you can finally speak? Like you don't know it already." Derek broke the silence.

Spencer couldn't find the right words to explain that he had been feeling like crap for the past 2 weeks.

"I've been feeling like shit." he finally murmured in resignation: that's just how it was.

Derek's eyebrows shot up. He wasn't expecting him to be so direct.

"Yeah, I noticed. Everyone has, to be fair."

Reid nodded and went back to look at his feet.

Morgan continued, softening his tone. "Listen, kid. This can't be a normal migraine, am I right? If it makes you feel so sick."

"That's what I thought." Spencer answered.

"...so did you go to a doctor?" Derek asked after a few seconds of silence, during which he would've expected him to continue with his explanation.

"I went to three different doctors, actually. And basically, they told me I have nothing."

Derek looked confused. His mind started to wrap around the idea that the migraines could be a symptom of something way more serious.

"Maybe..." Derek started. He wanted to say it, but wasn't sure if A) Spencer had already wondered about it and was gonna accuse him of thinking he's dumb, or B) on the contrary, saying it would heat him up because the thought hadn't even crossed his mind. Either way, he wasn't expecting him to react well, but he had to say SOMETHING, for Christ's sake.

"...maybe the headaches mean something else? " He decided to stay vague.

Reid stood up straight and faced him. That whole dancing around the problem was starting to annoy him.

"If you want to say that you think I'm showing signs of... of schizophrenia, just- just say it."

Derek wanted to answer with something that would calm him down, but Spencer interrupted him the second he opened his mouth.

"It's like I told Emily, I knew you would all treat me like a baby if I ever talked to any of you about this. Do you think I wouldn't have told you or- or anybody else, if the doctors had said that I'm having symptoms of mental illness?" Reid could feel his eyes filling up with tears the moment he mentioned Emily's name out loud.

He still couldn't believe he had talked to her about his stupid migraine while she was dealing with way more important stuff, and that maybe if he had been the one to ask her what was going on, instead of the other way around, she would still be alive.

Derek's expression changed from being comprehensive to being irritated as soon as he picked up that Spencer had talked about this to Emily before anyone else. Before him.

"So you told her. But didn't tell me. Even though I asked you a MILLION times." he said frowning, his voice deep.

Reid didn't answer. He realized he shouldn't have mentioned it. He couldn't bear with Morgan's look anymore, so he turned his back on him to face the mirror again, looking down at his distorted reflection on the steel tap.

"Alright look, I don't know why you told Emily before telling me that's- that's beside the point here, honestly. I don't blame you for it, I know she is-" Derek stopped for a second and gulped. "-was. I know she was your friend- OUR friend, I used to tell her about my stuff too, cause I trusted her with it, so I get it, alright?" he sighed heavily. "I blame you for not trusting ME, too. It's not like I didn't give you the right circumstances to tell me."

Derek paused and tried to calm down, lowering his voice. "but you and I, Spencer, we- we're not friends. We never were just friends. You're always THE FIRST ONE to know about my stuff and I'm the first to know about yours - or at least I used to be - because we get each other way before the others get us. And I did- I DID get you before anyone else even this time. You were just too damn blind to notice it."

"I DO trust you. Don't talk like you don't know that. It's not because of trust that I haven't told you yet." Spencer finally found the words to answer, without hesitation.

"Then what? What is it?? If it's because of the 'treating you like a baby' bullshit- don't even get me started. I don't care how you call it, but what that actually is, is worrying and CARING about yo-"

"I know." That's all Spencer managed to say, coldly, before letting the conversation fall into a long, tense silence.

Derek was waiting for him to say something - anything - with his arms folded on his chest, but his patience had a limit - EVEN when it came to Spencer. And it wasn't because he got tired of him - there was no such thing - but because it was too painful to see him like that.

"A'ight." He sighed frustratedly, dropping his arms down his sides as he turned on his heels. He just couldn't stand being there any longer.

He was about to walk away, but Spencer turned around and grabbed his arm to stop him.

"W-Wait. There is a reason why I didn't wanna tell you at all, to be honest, and I- I even hoped you'd let it go at some point..." Spencer found the courage to say, now looking straight into Derek's dark eyes. He let go of his arm and tucked his hair behind his ears, as if preparing to explain properly.

"One of the doctors said that these migraines could be psychosomatic. He didn't mention schizophrenia though." he confessed, getting to the point, pausing a second after to catch Derek's reaction. But his expression remained pretty much the same: Spencer wasn't sure whether that could be because he was someway expecting it; or he was simply trying to hide how startled he actually was at the news, afraid to discourage him from talking.

"It's hard enough for me to get the work done and...actually, to- to live, with these headaches" he paused again, this time in the attempt to stop the urge of crying, but his voice was already cracking. "I can't concentrate, even light bothers me, let alone noise, I can't- I get 20 hours of actual sleep a week if I'm lucky. I feel pain and- and exhaustion, all the time..."

Now he was crying. He quickly wiped away the tears with the back of his nervously trembling hand, and shook his head to compose himself. "When I'm with you I feel guilty because I- I can't actually enjoy it and I can see that that's affecting you and that's SO not fair to you Derek I-" he sniffled, stopping himself from continuing with that train of thought, afraid that if he went on to say how much Derek didn't deserve to go through all of that for him, to have to adjust in order to keep up with his garbage, how he didn't understand why he hadn't yet ran away in the arms of someone normal, someone just as amazing as he was because he shouldn't settle for anything less, someone who could lift from his chest some of his pain instead of adding to it- Spencer was afraid if he'd went on to say that, not only he would crumble on the floor at his very knees, which would've been quite the pathetic scene; but most of all Derek would've thought he was praising him just to distract him from how mad he was at Spencer - righteously, he thought. Derek wasn't mad at Spencer for feeling sick, by the way. He could never.

Spencer was somewhat ready to continue, getting back to the problem. "The times that you've convinced me to come over, lately, were few not because I didn't want- actually it's a bit easier for me to sleep when I'm with you, in general, at least more than I manage alone- it's- it was just because I can imagine that having to babysit me is not how you- we, that's not... how we wish to spend time together. So what I'm saying is that the reason why I didn't wanna tell you is because if the doctor is right, it means I'm gonna have to go through therapy to fix this and it's gonna take a while...maybe it's never even gonna go away I- I'm not sure, honestly. There's no way of knowing. And I don't wanna force you to be a part of this. Even just for these few weeks I can see I've been nothing but a burden to you- to everyone, to be fair, and..." he gulped and tried to slow down the pace of his talk. "and I want to be able to spare from this at least you."

They stared into each other's eyes for a while. Derek understood what Spencer meant to say with all of that, he just needed a minute to process a proper answer - or at least one that would make some kind of sense.

"So uhm, let me- let me get this straight" he said shaking his head, his voice hoarse, his eyes squeezed shut trying to soothe the itching of tears poking at his lids. "Your best solution would be to... to break up ?" he asked, knowing the answer already.

Spencer nodded and returned to face the ground, ashamed of what he was implying and not really knowing what he was hoping for him to decide.

Derek couldn't find the right words to say next. So he walked toward the door.

Spencer thought that that was it. That he was about to be abandoned yet once more - and for the first time he wanted to punch himself in the guts at the awareness that it was no one else's but his own fault; surely not Derek's. He thought the best thing that had God-willingly fallen into his arms in years was about to walk away through that door.

And, despite knowing there was no such thing, Spencer could swear he felt his heart physically break. The amount of tears heaping up before his pupils blinded him and made his eyes literally burn; his jaw was clenched so tight in the attempt to put a stop to the desperate sobs about to escape that his teeth seemed to be cracking, just before shattering altogether.

But he didn't really have the right to stop him, since he basically asked for it and since he knew sticking with him through that would be a big responsibility and an even bigger burden, other than a distraction.

That's why he wanted to break up with him first. He wanted to rip off the band-aid. At least he would've spared them both the mess that would've happened if Derek had stayed with him for a while longer and then dumped him at a certain point, out of having enough, when Spencer would've already convinced himself that he could trust him to stick around till the "end". Whatever that meant.

Unexpectedly, when Derek got to the door, he did not open it and leave. He locked it, instead. He didn't really care if anyone got in anyway, but the situation was already uncomfortable enough.

He went back to Spencer and took him in his arms, with one hand on the back of his head, tied in his curls. And he kissed him.

Spencer was definitely not expecting that. His heart started beating again, so loud he could feel it in his ears. His eyes shut while his mouth was moving almost on itself, like it got carried away by his feelings. As for his arms, though, at first he hadn't figured out what to do with them yet, leaving them hanging idle along his sides.

Then he stopped for a second to catch his breath, and when their mouths met again, making the kiss more intense and wet; whether that be from the tears coating Spencer's face entirely or the drool he didn't even have the strength to contain - just then, his arms found their way, wrapping Derek as tightly as he possibly could.

Just when it was starting to get too needy and Derek's mind was about to go places it shouldn't have - considering the context and the importance of the matter - Spencer placed his hand on Derek's jaw to pull away, abruptly.

"W-wait" he whispered breathily. "Did you mean for this to be our- our last kiss?" he blurted out worriedly, the bad thoughts doubling back to hit him in the stomach all at once. "Is this a goodbye?"

Derek didn't answer immediately - instead, he drew him closer into his arms and hugged him tight, burying his face into his soft hair, keeping his eyes closed.

The lack of response left Reid even more confused. He slightly furrowed his brows but let himself melt into the comfort of Morgan's broad and warm body, returning the hug a few seconds later.

He could feel the rhythm of Derek's breath softly blowing into his ear, and the beat of his heart against his chest. And Spencer knew that to feel a person's heart through a hug it would have to be really pounding. Like, he could give you the numbers.

"I can't even imagine there being a last kiss with you, Spencer. I love you." Derek finally murmured into his ear, pausing to sniffle. "So much. I love you so much, I need you to understand that."

The only reason why Spencer didn't say it back, was because the smile printed on his face was too wide to speak; he didn't even know he could smile that big. And Derek felt such smile against his neck, so how could the lack of answer bother him?

Derek opened his eyes and pulled away to look at him, shifting his hands to cup his face. Spencer placed his hands around his wrists, holding onto them like he wanted to secure the grip.

He leaned closer and laid a gentle kiss on one of his boyfriend's eyelids. It was an affectionate and pure gesture in itself, but he didn't do it randomly: Spencer's mom used to kiss him goodnight like that when he was little, before tucking him in the blankets. In that moment, Spencer probably wished Derek had long forgotten about that thing, thinking it sounded childish and embarrassing. Derek didn't find it either of those things.

"Can't believe a smartass like you could think I'd just leave." Derek said. Spencer snorted and nodded: he realized just in that moment that he had no excuse for even CONSIDERING that, even if before it seemed to him like the only way out.

Morgan let go of him. "C'mon pretty boy. Let's get back to work."

He walked toward the door first: if they had got out together, maybe someone would've suspected something - what that "something" was, he still had to figure out. They got lucky enough that no one had tried to get in during all that.

He unlocked the door but waited a second to get out.

"Thank you, by the way."

Reid frowned.

"For what exactly? Doubting about you and making you angry?" he smiled sheepishly; his eyes still flushed and his voice wavering. "Also, my headache has completely gone away so I'm the one who should be thankful".

"No, no." Derek shook his head, smiling back at him in that way, the way that made everyone always melt on the ground. "Thank you for telling me, I mean. Even if it took a while."

Silence.

"I know it's hard for you, kid." he added in a gentle tone.

He got out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

#criminal minds #moreid #shematthew #criminal minds season 6 #criminal minds 6x19 #spencer reid x derek morgan #spencer reid #dr reid #derek morgan #bau #behavioral analysis unit #m/m #moreid fanfic #moreid one shot #sperek #cm tag #moreid one shot 5 #cm #moreid angst

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hlupdate · 5 years

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Louis’ Interview with 1883 Magazine

Everybody knows One Direction - the band which was formed through The X-Factor in 2010 and went on to become the world’s biggest and most acclaimed boy band. Sold out tours, millions of international fans, and high-charting albums - Niall Horan, Liam Payne, Harry Styles, Zayn Malik and Louis Tomlinson created history.

However, in 2016 it was announced that One Direction will be on hiatus until further notice, which then led to each member launching their solo careers. Yet, they maintained strong from their loyal fanbase throughout the break-up and their individual journeys. 1883 Magazine sat down with Louis Tomlinson, the member who always saw himself as the outcast of the band - even though his fanbase is growing as strong as ever!

Having released collaborative singles with the likes of Steve Aoki and Bebe Rexha to being on the judging panel of The X-Factor - ever single laughing his solo career, Louis has been actively working on being the greatest version of himself to date. The past three years he has spent a lot of time in the studio working on his debut album, and recently released a taste of what we can expect from it sound-wise - his brand new single ‘Two of Us’ is a beautiful yet heartbreaking ode to his late mother and represents Louis’s unique, raw style of songwriting. During our interview at Beach Blanket Babylon in London’s Notting Hill, he spoke more about the meaning behind the single, a One Direction reunion tour and being robbed in LA.

Interviewer: I’ve had a listen to your brand new single ‘Two of Us’. What a heartfelt song about your mum! It must have been so emotional to write it.

Louis: I’ll be honest, I kinda needed to get this song off my chest really and I knew going into these sessions and writing about different things I knew I wouldn’t feel complete. So I got it off my chest. But I wasn’t ready to write that song because in my head I wanted to be four, five years into my songwriting because it is such an important song to me. Then a few writers got in touch and I went to a session with them and told them my idea, and straight away it felt perfect. I haven’t felt the confidence to write this song by myself from scratch but they gave me the confidence I needed. And then the next hours we delved into it, changed things and now the end result is something I am really proud of.

I: So you were only able to do it alongside the other songwriters?

L: Yeah, they heard the song and asked what had happened. It just made so much sense with them. It evolved and I told them the background story. And then it just kind of came together and I managed to deliver the message that I wanted to deliver. I don’t want people to be exhausted after listening to it, I don’t want people to feel weighed down. I want them to be hopeful, just like the collaborative song I did with Steve Aoki. Just getting that message across felt really liberating.

I: I really like the song; I think you delivered the message very well. Generally, do you prefer writing alone or with other songwriters?

L: Both, really. Obviously, sometimes on my own but I think where I’m at, in terms of my songwriting stage, I don’t consider myself as a proper professional yet. When I’m in these circles, it helps to be around that experience.

I: Why don’t you see yourself as a professional?

L: Because as a songwriter I am quite unique, some of these pop sessions have more structure and I am less precise in my writing. I like to not have too many limitations of what a song should be, do you know what I mean? Especially a song like ‘Two of Us’, which is biographical.

I: Do you ever have to deal with any overly obsessive fans, as in groupies?

L: I mean, there are fans everywhere I go. But you kind of start recognizing faces. In London, for example ,there are about 20 individuals who are always somehow there when I’m doing something. And they don’t know how much confidence that gives me. Like, when I do a TV show - and I’m scared of that - and the minute I see a familiar face of my fans, I feel like what I do is important. My side stuff felt like a leap of faith to me and it’s all driven by the belief of the fans who keep me going.

I: So without fans, you wouldn’t have done a solo career?

L: Oh, no! When I was in the band, everything went so amazingly. It’s very hard to have a relative way of an example of where you stand in the industry. So the fans constantly gave me reinforcement.

I: If there hadn’t been that incredible support, where would you have seen yourself after the band’s hiatus decision?

L: In my head, I would have just gotten better at songwriting, and write for other people. I hadn’t given it too much thought because us as a band didn’t have too much time to think about what we were going to do. But honestly, it sounds so generic, I wouldn't have had confidence without my fans. Now I feel empowered and it’s giving me strength. You find yourself in these do-or-die situations, and it’s been amazing so far.

I: do you think there’ll be an end to One Direction’s hiatus? Like a reunion tour or something else?

L: There’s gotta be! One hundred perfect. As far as I’m concerned, we are all good at doing our individual stuff right now and it’s great for yourself as an individual but the day we do get back together will be a magical day for all of us. I think everyone is in the same boat when it comes to this; it’s inevitable and the question is just when are we going to do it. Now that we are on this break, I can look back and say it was massive but looking from the other side you can see the influence and important. That’s really cool, just seeing our positive influence. we were such a powerhouse. It’s a no-brainer, I’m the first to sign the sheets to get back together.

I: Let’s hope so! Do you still keep in touch with the others?

L: Yeah, we’ve been through so much. Obviously some speak more than others but that’s normal. Without it sounding condescending, I was always the oldest and still feel like a duty of care. I constantly check in with all of them. We always had each other when there was stress in the band, and we don’t have that anymore because we are doing solo careers.

I: On another note, how was your X-Factor experience, and why did you decide to be on the panel?

L: Well, obviously we came from the show and it kind of feels like home. Although I didn’t have experience on that side of TV. I felt confidence because I knew what it was like. What I wasn’t prepared for, though, was how emotionally invested I would be. I felt a bit of guilt as well because there were contestants who’d participated the same year we did, and I remembered them from boot camp. So that was a weird dynamic. It was humbling, definitely.

I: What were the biggest challenges?

L: The first day of audition I was terrified, to be honest.I was proper nervous but once I had done a couple I knew I didn’t have to become this character, this TV version of myself. I realized I could just go on and look after the contestants. It’s given me great experience that I wouldn’t have had elsewhere.

I: What was it like being part of the winning team?

L: The winner stood out clearly, from the first live show he had everyone say that he is going to be a winner, and there was a lot of pressure.

I: Would you ever do it again?

L: Maybe, I loved the experience. I never say never! I’m so determined to prove a point with my music so if it interrupted that process it would be a very hard decision, to be honest. Music comes first every time for me. Maybe one day!

I: You said you are all about developing new artists, would you ever mentor one?

L: I have an imprint at Syco and I think I’ve got good music taste. I’ve always been interested in finding new bands because that seems kinda cool to me, and I had a list of a couple of bands I really liked. And since then I had that imprint deal, I’m constantly on the lookout.

I: Where do you usually lookout for these new bands?

L: BBC Introducing is great. Other than that, it’s just these tedious ways of using Soundcloud and YouTube. I think in terms of what I’m looking for is a little bit of rock, defiance, and everything instead of this clean-cut we’ve got a lot of.

I: Nothing wrong with Rock, which are your favorite Rock acts?

L: I love Oasis, I love Liam Gallagher to be honest! He’s unique and different, love him or hate him. He is a breath of fresh air. As I was growing up, and that is the reason I struggled to place myself on the radio, it was the time where guitar-driven pop really got big on the airwaves. You know, bands like The Kooks, Oasis, Two Door Cinema Club. Now, Hip Hop and R&B are taking that spot and it’s hard to relate to that. I don’t want to be too pretentious, I’m [well] aware of where I come from but I have a mission where I want to be.

I: So how would you classify your genre?

L: Oh, that’s a big question. Wow, that’s hard. In terms of what I’m looking for from a production point of view I want things to sound organic and live. Not too many programmed instruments. I want it to feel authentic. From a lyric perspective, almost like indie-pop, very conversational. All these sexy metaphors people put in their music? I ain’t got time for that. I like it straight to the point. It’s hard to classify it as a particular genre.

I: After your album release, would you go on tour again?

L: Definitely! Hopefully, I will get some dates locked in before the end of the year because I haven’t been on the road for a good three years. I miss the routine, it’s the Rock ‘n’ Roll lifestyle. You wake up at 3pm, do the show on a high, go to bed and do it all over again. It’s definitely super fun.

I: Would you ever consider performing at a festival?

L: Yeah! I did Ultra Festival with Steve Aoki in Miami. It was so good. It was a proper performance and hoped for the the best but I loved it. EDM fans are proper fanatical, they party hard! I don’t remember too much, but I came off buzzing. Those moments, going out on your one which is a different experience, just move you.

So one day, being on a festival bill would be really amazing, but I have to make that transition music-wise before approaching festivals.

I: You are also constantly jetting between Los Angeles and London, do you have plans to settle down in one of those cities one day?

L: I’m kind of used to traveling, a lot of sesions make me travel between those countries anyway...I’m just used to it now. I actually got robbed in LA, though.

I: What, how did you find out?

L: I saw it on CCTV, these f*ckers. They didn’t take anything sentimental. I haven’t actually been robbed since I was 10 years old.

I: Wow. But do you refer LA or London? I suppose LA due to the better weather?

L: I much prefer London. I feel like I’m a very British character so when I’m in LA for too long I feel too different. There are a lo tof people there who are f*ke as fuck, and they’re cold. But the locals are the cool ones, it’s the ones from the outside who try to snake you.

I: One a different note, what are you watching on Netflix right now?

L: This may sound creepy but I’m proper into Psychology so I watch sinister, dark stuff. Lots of murder mystery on Netflix, and I watch many documentaries, such as David Attenborough’s stuff. What I don’t like is Stranger Things. I can’t get into it.

I: How did you deal with the additional grief over the past few months?

L: I’m so grateful for all of my fans worldwide for their love and support, but especially over the last few months. They are always there for me and I appreciate every single one of them.

I: Are you still planning to release your album this year or have you got an other projects coming up?

L: I’m really looking forward to releasing more music in the next few months with my album coming early next year. I’m really excited to get this record out and getting back on the road too. It’s been a long process, but I’ve finally got everything into a place which I’m really happy with. I’m going to feel so relieved and proud when the fans get to hear the album!

I: Are there going to be any features on the album? I don’t think so. I think it’s important that people can see and hear a body of work and try to see who I am as an artist.

Single ‘Two of Us’ is out now.

#louis tomlinson #1883 mag #080819 #we removed a stunt mention #where the ... is

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star-anise · 5 years

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i was hoping my last ask would get me a free rant without having to make a dreaded choice uhhhhhhh do maybe washcloths or fake smile?

Hahaha no you have to specify what white person thing you want a rant about, or else I’m paralyzed by too many choices. And nb. by “white” I generally mean white Anglo-Saxon Protestant; WASPs have traditionally been held up as the cultural standard everyone else n North America or other British colonies should follow, and the “whiteness” of different European ethnicities in those colonies is generally judged by how assimilated they are to the WASP ideal. So my observations will not apply very well to, for example, other European ethnicities, or people from areas colonized by those other European groups.

WASHCLOTHS. Related to another trap, Guest Towels Guests Must Never Use. Which are usually distinguished by their elaborateness and a thin layer of dust. As a certified White Person (Anglo Canadian) I can say: This is a real actual literal thing my family does. If I stay at an aunt’s house, I don’t use her guest towels; I walk past the guest towels on the towel rack and ask my hostess, “What towel do you want me to use?” and she fetches me a new, less nice, towel out of the linen closet.

The actual washcloth meant to be used is hung somewhere separate. When I was about 13, I rebelled against sharing a washcloth with my brothers, bought my own washcloth from a department store, embroidered my name on it, and zealously defended it against all comers. These days, my older brother has four children. When we go to his house to eat dinner, his children all wash their hands before they eat… and then wipe them dry on a single towel hung in the downstairs bathroom, which his guests also use. So we all wash our hands and then share germs. I… think? There might be a bar on the opposite wall with guest towels hanging on it? But my eyes have been trained to skate right over guest towels. They’re decor, not things we actually use.

Why White People Do This:

1. Washing and cleanliness… have not traditionally held a central place in European life the way, say, wudu does in Islam. Although priests ritually wash their hands before performing the consecration of Mass, nobody else in the congregation has to. This is partly because in Christian Scripture, Jesus says that if something is ritually pure but spiritually suspect, it should be treated as impure, which Christians kind of took to mean “ritual purity and cleanliness rituals are things non-Christians do.”

So in the 19th century, a German doctor discovered that you could reduce the rate of infection dramatically when doctors washed their hands and instruments between dissecting dead bodies and attending in childbirth. Doctors were OFFENDED and APPALLED by this–partly because the guy pointing it out was an asshole, yes, but partly because there was a feeling that “a gentleman’s hands are always clean”, so it was offensive to say their hands were dirty because it impugned their class and education.

Cleanliness is hugely related to class and status–I could go on a LOT more here about how in the 19th century, British and American attempts to “educate” and “civilize” poor white people and people of colour included imposing standards of hygiene on them that felt cruel and punitive–scrubbing skin raw, using caustic soap, delousing with kerosene–partly because white people didn’t have a very advanced idea of what chemicals made good cosmetics, and there wasn’t much awareness of the need for oils or moisturizers. (For a long time very few sources of natural oil, like canola, olives, or sunflowers, or even petroleum products, were available in Britain, so until somewhat recently they only really had pine tar and animal fat, which they used for everything from making soap to lighting lamps to greasing cart axels.) And the 19th century cleanliness movement did not have a good opinion of traditional bathing methods like the sauna, banya, or steam room, where sweat was scraped off the skin. So people who HAD hygiene rituals that worked for them, when they emigrated to western Europe or North America, got shamed and discouraged from using them. It was just expected that part of “civilizing” a child who hadn’t been “well brought up” was forcefully ducking them in a bath and scrubbing them while they screamed and fought you.

So for white people from everything but the highest classes, if you go a few generations back, there’s this feeling that cleanliness is something unnatural and unpleasant, something imposed by a punitive authoritarian force, and not something intrinsically desirable. Old men used to talk about “taking a bath once a year, whether I need it or not,” and fear of losing their “protective coating of dirt.” Which makes sense when you realize how awful old cosmetics used to feel.

I mean, as I type this, I’m applying Vaseline to the hangnails on my fingers, because when I use soap in the bath or do the dishes or wash my hands after going to the bathroom, the soap strips oil from my skin and dries it out, leading it to crack and bleed. This is a really common problem but the current solution seems to be “women carry tiny bottles of moisturizer everywhere in their purses, and men… suffer if they want to seem manly, and then post memes to facebook about how rough and terrible their hands look to emphasize their heterosexual masculinity.”

This also relates to why white people say racist things about people of colour being “dirty” when they use natural methods of keeping their hair or skin clean. The white conception of cleanliness is honestly really fucked up.

2. Cloth holds an especially weird place in white society. I mean, lots of cultures everywhere like their cloth to look nice! But in Europe and American colonies in the 1600s there was an extra special movement to restrict women economically and bar them from business and public life–so while a rich woman could run a business outside the home and buy and sell in 1400, that freedom was disappearing in 1600. Only women of the ~lower classes~ did real actual work. And the religious sentiment at the time really emphasized Purity, Hard Work, Productiveness, and No Fun. So women were supposed to stay inside all the time and not participate in industry! But they were always supposed to be busy. The saying was literally “Idle hands are the devil’s tools”.

That turned embroidery from an aesthetic, decorative art into a moral act. You didn’t embroider to make something pretty; you embroidered for the good of your soul. Fancy embroidered pieces displayed in a home were meant to demonstrate a) that the house was rich enough to have idle women, and b) the moral purity and obedience to gender norms of the women of the house. (This also extends to things like quilts, lace doilies, hooked rugs, etc.)

So towels used to be made of linen, a plain flat cloth, and then embroidered and otherwise embellished. My mom, in the 1960s, learned how to do embroidery where you painstakingly pull a few threads out of a piece of linen, and then embellish the place where the threads have been taken out.

Linen, incidentally, is a strange and amazing fabric. When new, freshly starched and ironed, it is flat and crisp. But pressure and moisture can change it really easily. When I sew with linen, I just have to lick my fingers and fold it over, and it stays like that–something most fabrics don’t do. So if you actually use a linen towel to dry your hands, you will crumple it in a way that is very hard to reverse.

Therefore: Fancy linens were displayed prominently in the home as a status symbol, but a guest who wanted to stay on his hostess’s good side did not use them. There are a lot of ettiquettes around using linens when you absolutely have to, like just gently wiping your fingers on a towel, that diminished the damage the fabric would take.

So, I mean, actually rich people used their good towels, because if they ruin them, they can just get new ones. Fancy linens were intended for high-class guests who knew how to keep from damaging them. So using someone’s guest towels sent the message, “I am so high-status that I’m WORTH potentially ruining something that took a ton of work to make and maintain.” Or, if you obviously weren’t that high status, “I don’t know about the work that goes into making nice things, or don’t value the work you did and don’t care how much effort you’ll have to go to because I wanted to wipe my face.”

But that was in the days of linen. Guest towels are going out of fashion, partly because modern terrycloth towels are almost impossible to crease or ruin, so it doesn’t really matter if guests use them. But even with terrycloth towels, homeowners sometimes like to create really elaborate towel displays. I don’t know how those people feel when guests use them, but as a white girl I feel really uncomfortable taking a towel display in somebody else’s house apart, and try to wipe my hands while causing the least disturbance possible.

Oh, I guess I should mention that invisible tests no one will ever mention if you fail are absolutely a white person thing. Like, if you watch costumed period drama movies, there’s often a scene where someone is really unbearable and rude, and everyone is super polite and awkward and just sits there and says nothing. That’s not consciously an exclusive practice; from the perspective of white people it’s just an ingrained reflex, “Freeze and smile when something awkward happens and then later cut them out of your life.”

That reflex comes because the Industrial Revolution and colonization (1600s-1800s) led to a lot of class mobility. Ordinary men could get involved in business and become wealthier than the hereditary landowners! Which the hereditary landowners felt super threatened by, so they went out of their way to cultivate manners and standards that were very unlike those used by the common people. Upperclass accents became more marked and exaggerated; dictionaries decided to make English spelling and grammar especially hard to learn; manners got super weird and unintuitive. They wanted to make it as hard as possible for common people to fit into high society.

Therefore, to enable that system, the rule became: Never tell someone when they’re fucking up. If they know what they’re doing wrong, they’ll FIX it, and then they’ll fit in better! And that would lead to the absolute downfall of Western civilization! Which would of course be a bad thing! And that got codified as The Right And Desirable Way To Do Things. A low-class person might say “Hey, you just insulted me, I’m upset,” but someone with aspirations of rising higher in life learned to freeze and say nothing. That was how you defined “polite”.

So like I said, if I, as a white person, point out to other liberal white people that the freeze-and-smile-awkwardly response is really exclusionary to people from different backgrounds, they go, “Oh my gosh, you’re right!” and we can talk about changing it. It’s why white people invented assertiveness training. It’s a thing white people have to unpack and decolonize. But it’s not commonly a conscious attempt to exclude someone by not letting them know they’re breaking the rules.

ANYWAY. Towels.

So IF someone has guest towels taking up their towel rack in their bathroom, there’s very little room left for the actual towels. (Unless they’re like my aunt, whose bathroom literally has a second towel rack to accommodate her guest towel arrangement) Therefore: The entire fucking family sharing a single washcloth because that’s all they have room for, and it doesn’t feel that important not to share.

WHITE CULTURE IS WEIRD AS HELL.

And if you come to my house? You’re allowed to use my guest towels. It’s what they’re there for.

#staranise original #white culture #lis explains white people shit #AND I DIDN'T EVEN NAMECHECK CALVINISM ONCE #chucktaylorupset

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kaoarika · 4 years

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I rarely do written posts in Tumblr anymore because I am still figuring out how this new UI works in general (and there might be still be some bugs about writing posts + leaving them on drafts + publishing them accidentally as well), and tbh, between the past two months have been sorta chaotic and very mentally draining (besides some work I have been doing) and me attempting to think around some of my few active fandoms... well, haven’t had an eureka moment where I sit and write what I think about stuff.

So, let’s talk about some “stuff”.

Some days ago, I accidentally noticed by PURE CHANCE that some of the completed webtoons I was going to “eventually read” in LINE were going to get “locked”/converted for Daily Pass. I mean, tbf, I knew that they were going to stick to this plan since past October, but it seems they really went full force this month (they only “locked” like a couple of series back then). And it’s exactly how I thought they would do so - popular series that have been already completed, old and recent.

I’m not going to complain about “Daily Pass” because I do have some thoughts about that and the fact they could use another model than just readers farming/buying coins, but, what do you do, especially since lots of these series are PRETTY long (140+ chapters long)?

My complaint does come from that, as a web user, I found this by pure chance, despite them saying they would announce what series would be locked in a 30-day advance notice. Because there’s no apparent indicator in the main page about THIS (The only Notice/News detail you see down below the page is about Canvas creators). Heck, I don’t think they even tell you about it in their mail newsletter, which kinda suck :))).

So, anyway.

I checked and, yes, a couple of VERY old series I was interested in reading were/are going to get locked. Problem, like I mentioned? THEY are pretty long! I know I can binge read as much as I want, but I cannot make miracles like reading over 100 chapters (if one series, try thinking about 2 or 3 - I WAS NOT GOING TO DO THIS) in less than 12 hours! ESPECIALLY if those series were going to get locked THIS WEEK.

FML.

...anyway crisis was averted when I had to let go some interesting series that I may would get my way to read them (if there is a new buying/rental model they would apply) in the future... BUT I did read stuff I was curious or wanted to read... and mainly old stuff that I was willing to eventually finish one day.

Opinions on those series?

Okay, as brief and spoiler free as possible:

Untouchable: A story about modern-day vampires that instead of drinking blood, they have evolved to absorb the energy of their preys. This one is a romantic series about Sia, a vampire model and this human guy who has a very deep microphobia, and she puts her eyes on him when she realizes that his energy is like none she has tasted before. But, again, dude has microphobia (that is more or less controlled as time goes on).

I stopped reading this one for a while because I was sorta smelling love triangle from a jealous friend of hers that OBVIOUSLY didn’t want to be looked as “just a friend”, lol. Like “how would this get solved”, kind of thing in your typical romance stuff. But then, last week I retook it... and it wasn’t as bad... but it leaks typical shoujo stuff/problems that become a newer obstacle as time goes on and on (misscomunication, lack of trust, overprotective family ANNOYINGLY hurting their own offspring, sudden deux ex machina...?). So, I think it finished fine... But man, I was so pissed off in how some stuff was managed at the end, lmao. Especially the way a “villain” was redeemed? I know that they say “karma is a b*tch”, but, DUDE KILLED PEOPLE BEFORE!? and you redeem him in a “lol, you will find out how love will make you feel” LIKe, DUDE, WHAT THE HELL. DON’T REDEEM HIM LIKE THAT.

Ghost Wife: I started reading this series in an unofficial manner a long while ago, but I supposed that the first chapters are pretty slow and it didn’t catch me on in the first place. It’s about a girl that starts seeing ghosts/spirits, and there’s this one that becomes WAY too attached to her, that offers her two options: either been eaten/killed or agreeing to be his wife. Given the title of thise series, you might wonder she accepted the second one

My lesson? Should have kept reading. The story picks up when other ghostly creatures are introduced and they start interacting with the main female character and her “ghost husband”, especially since this ghost cannot really imitate human interaction and his solution is “hypnotizing” everyone so he can “normally” fit. And the interaction between those two becomes more gracious and natural. You can feel that she likes being with him, despite the dangers of attracting ghosts that might kill her and all that. Heh.

Other lesson I had is that: the artist isn’t EXACTLY well into action scenes and some other details (but their ghostly creatures’ designs are TERRIFYING), so, I thought “well, I know there are other artists like this in the webcomic/webtoon environment, I shouldnt be too worried about my art once I get done with mine, right?

Also, some details started to make sense later on. And I cried like a baby in some moments, as well. Don’t have too many complaints, though. Perhaps more obvious “falling in love” moments... but then I realized that some actions speak lots better than words.

About Death: And speaking of “crying like a baby”, this one. This is a very old work, and it’s a gem, and it’s short, to top! And HECK, the art was AMAZING. Very touchy, and it makes you think. There’s quite a lot of South Korean webtoons that have made me cry because... they really make you think a LOT about stuff... especially about life and death.

Oh! Holy: Story about a shy and lonely loveable dork that is in love of his childhood friend, and that they eventually find each other in high school. Said childhood friend is idolized in school (but she is... hmmm... a dork as, well). Oh, he sees ghosts. OH, and she dies within the first three chapters accidentally :3. Shenanigans happen.

I HAD A LOT OF FUN WITH THIS ONE. SURE, it’s another shoujo but WAY less dramatic than Untouchable, because this was comedy (so, a rom-com!). And this one made me want more and more to read it. The characters all had an amazing personality, chemistry and their interactions were FUN AS HELL. The author seems to have my my sense of (dumb) humor, and the art was too attractive and knew where it should bright.

I don’t think I have too many complaints about this one. I may have felt unsatisfied in some minor stuff, but everything else felt “okay” to me, in general.

A couple of things, though: localization and some quality stuff relating to translation in this series. I cannot judge the translation, but I do think it could have handled more quality checking on this one or proofreading, I’m not sure. I know that these (licensed and translated) series come in a weekly basis, but they REALLY need to pay more $$$ to their own staff to not let this stuff happen THAT frequent.

Localization is a bit of an issue I do HAVE though, and it is the same as in “Ghost Wife” and some other recent Korean series they have licensed in the recent past: Why using English-localized names, though? SURE, they retain their original last Korean names... but... why don’t keep their FULL NAMES, I wonder? I mean, weren’t we supposed to be over that kind of stuff already (videogames, JPN anime, manga other foregin stuff)? Is it because marketability? And/or because some names are “puns” that couldn’t easily be translateable in other languages?

If it’s the latter, I think the same is applied in other regional language localization, like, in Spanish, original English language “Axed” is called “Natacha la del Hacha” and you cannot wonder how it crawls over my skin. I know this series is BUILT ON and is full of puns (as I am following it)... but... “Axelia” is a much more cooler name than “Natacha”... :I or so I THINK? Don’t take me too seriously...

In “Ghost Wife” I get it, you have spiritual creatures... their “human” names are puns of what they really are, and these words MAYBE don’t have too much meaning in English or Spanish or whatever... but... its a bit... glaring... when the main cast has English first names... and then you have a side character called... I dunno, “Soyeon” :I. or Haetae (a creature that didn’t have a human character name...) or, heck, characters that never appear again like... there was this “Damien” dude that for some reason, his name is slipped a couple of times as “Suho” (I wonder, his original name). But, then, you have people named “Liz”, “Drake”, “Sarah”, “Nathan” ????

I suppose that in “Oh! Holy” that might be the case, too. The original Korean name of the series is “오!주예수여” that is translated as “Oh! Lord Jesus”, because Holy in Korean is named “Yesu”. And, *sigh* I think that says enough. The pun STILL works... but :’))

But at the same time, I think my thing with the English localized names in “Oh! Holy” is that they are... blatantly boring and I don’t think they fit their faces. At all. But, maybe that’s me? (I mean, the “ultimate” reaper is called Norman. NORMAN.) Like I said, they still keep their original Korean last names... but... ugh.

(this is coming from someone who gave two of her characters very not obvious Spanish names given that they are Mexican, but I do have some valid cultural and VERY obvious explanations about those...)

Also - I don’t get LINE Webtoon’s selectiveness in this localization decision. Some of the South Korean series they bring, they do KEEP their original full names (see “A Good Day to be a Dog”, “Ghost Teller”, heck, the afforementioned “Untouchable”), but then you have stuff like “Oh! Holy”, “Ghost Wife”, “Scorching Romance”, “Mom, I’m Sorry!” or “Lookism”... ?????

And, this is very blatant annoying because a) K-Pop is HUGELY global mainstream nowadays and you can hear/read fans screaming their NAMES?! And 2) K-dramas are also pretty popular these days???

??????

*LONG SIGH*

There’s a few series that I want to check out, but I still have some more days for that to happen (heck, even a bit of more than a week). But, it SURE DOES suck that most of the interesting series I had my eyes on all were going to get locked this WEEK. :))))

#kao's ramblings #kao's nonsenses #webtoons

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staytruetonorthch · 4 years

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Perfect Ch. 1

A/N: I’m super anxious but here is my first official post. It’s just a single chapter around 4.5k. I plan on this being a pretty detailed, long-form story so if you like it, hang in there. I promise it’ll speed up once we get past exposition. I’m also highly aware of the switches from past/present tense, but I’m too tired to fix it and I’ve been so hesitant to post it’s either a now or never. I hope you guys enjoy <3

Football!Calum x Dancer!OC

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"Don't make me come over there!" It may have looked like I was yelling into the racks of clothing and shoes in my closet, and to be honest, I might as well be.

"You worry too much, Celley." I can hear the smile on my best friend, Brynn's face from my bed in the other room.

"I do, but only because you don't give a fuck, B and I know those boys don't," I said, counting each person out on my fingers. "That's four people in, and not a single fuck is being given. Someone's got to, or nothing would get done."

"You've got a point. The delivery was a little aggressive, but I'm moved nonetheless," Ash spoke up through Brynn's phone.

"I'm cleaning as we speak, Cel. It's gonna be fine," Luke chimed in from the boys' side of the phone.

"I can hear you lads playing FIFA," I said with an exasperated sigh.

We have a party planned at the boy's house tonight. A party I only had five hours to prepare, but that's the beauty of university, right? Spontaneity. All precautions to the wind. Everything that I never could be in high school and am still afraid to do today after a whole month of coursework. Don't ask me what I think might happen. Spontaneous combustion? Instantaneous death? A party that no one has fun at because I didn't have time to make an updated playlist or look up the actual rules for any drinking games?

"Brynn, are you ready to go?" I ask, peeking my head out of my closet to look at her sprawled out across my bed. I can hardly see her underneath the excessive number of decorative pillows and thick white down cover.

"I just got so comfortable. I was actually contemplating taking a nap."

"Please," I plead, batting my lashes over large dewy eyes. It’s a trick I picked up after so many lyrical dances over the years. Direct eye contact with these watery eyes always left judges speechless.

"Ugh… fine, but I'm getting wasted tonight and sleeping in this wonderful bed. Have your asses in gear by the time we get there," she said, hanging up on the boys and throwing pillows haphazardly across the floor. I cringed at every one as it landed in the thick white carpet. I don't bother telling her that I hadn't expected the night to end any other way. I pull myself back into the closet, eyeing my options once more. I could either go with a red gingham top, or I could tie my white vogue tee shirt in the front for a more casual look. Both require a bra sadly.

"The red is trying too hard," Brynn said, leaning against the doorframe. "You can't pull out picnic bitch chic at a party."

"I guess you're right." I pull the tee over my head careful to avoid touching the thin white fabric to my made-up face. Once I had a knot secured at the base of my rib cage, I fluffed my hair as if it could get any bigger and smoothed out my denim skirt. "Shoe's and I'm good. What about you?" I said eyeing her in the reflection of my full-length mirror. She wore a white hoodie underneath black overalls and black high-top converse. Splitting her hair in half, she tied it up into multicolored space buns on top of her head. Brynn is the kind of girl who could put on mascara and chapstick five minutes before she left, and she’s effortlessly beautiful. Her freckles do most of the work across her nose and cheeks, making her insanely adorable.

"Done. Let's hit the road, Jack," she said, walking towards the door to my studio flat. I quickly replace the pillows back on the bed and turned off all the lights before joining her. She grabbed the keys to my Jeep, knowing I’m too preoccupied to drive us.

"Are we stopping at the store on the way or coming back out?"

"Stopping on the way. We just need paper towels, red cups, more ping pong balls because Mikey lost three of the last four, and snacks. I also found this recipe for a cool looking pink drink, but the boys are all stocked on beer."

"I almost hate the fact that I can't use my fake here. I spent good money and almost got arrested for something that's legal here." I smile, scrolling through my checklist one more time to make sure I didn't forget anything.

"Well that's your fault for not doing a simple google search before you came to uni in Aus."

"I'm just saying, in America, I would be a plug." She turned wide out into the street, speeding past every car. She has a bit of a lead foot.

"That one's lost on me, love." I try to keep up with her American slang, but I wasn't able to watch a lot of American shows or anything growing up, so I'm a little behind to put it gently.

She said she has a southern accent, but I can't tell any difference. Everything she says just sounds brutal to me. Shit slams, anything can pop off apparently, and a lot of good things burn. At least that's what I gather when she uses 'fire' and 'flames' as adjectives.

I met Brynn at new student orientation. She seemed to be the only other one unamused by the school's welcoming parade meant to encourage school spirit, so as soon as our parents left, we left campus to explore the surrounding area locating the nearest shops and eating places. She was unlike any friend I had ever made swearing and speaking in riddles. I went to an all-girls catholic school filled to the brim with carbon copies of perfect people. We were second to none in both academics and clubs, which my parents loved, and Brynn was the absolute antithesis of that. She was a self- proclaimed 'thick' queen who was a pleasant deviance to the bird thin girls I was usually surrounded by. Her hair couldn't choose a color after multiple self- dye jobs. Even her mixed Mexican and Jamaican heritage were new to me. She said what she wanted and smiled wide at everything. I'm just happy she saw something in me to stick around even if it was the fact that I kidnapped her on the first day, keeping her from someone better.

I grab the frame of the car as she whips into the car park stopping short of a disgruntled gentleman in the crosswalk. She cursed loudly, causing my face to heat up. I contemplate jumping out of the car seeing as how the doors to the Jeep are safely kept in my garage. It’ll be a quick getaway, but I may need to make sure she makes it into a spot that isn't already occupied with this lovely gentlemen's car.

We soon found a spot and made quick work of the shopping, splitting the list I organized by section right down the middle. We’re back on the road in no time, heading closer to the edge of campus where the boys lived.

Ashton was actually the first person to befriend Brynn. They met at a summer fellowship program that put them in parts of Australia that don't have service for a hundred miles. They have that rugged woodsman thing in common. It kept them in touch through their final year in high school before she 'coincidentally' got accepted into the same university as him an entire ocean's length away. They were equally as smiley; she was just a little more… brash at times which is hard to believe. She didn't want to admit that she was nervous when he invited her to the house, he shared with two of his best mates, so I didn't mention anything when she asked me along. As the male version of Brynn, I immediately got on with Ashton. Mikey was chirpy and so sweet despite his punk persona. His other mate Luke was quiet only offering his very corny, yet intriguing commentary. He seems to be the closest thing I have to the friends I'm used to at home despite his lip ring. We formed a group of sorts meeting up in the library to study during the week and finding anything else but coursework to do on the weekends.

Our first kickback was just a barbeque featuring the five of us until Ash invited a few friends he made throughout the week with his open and boyish charm. Brynn had a few of her own, and Mikey wanted to join in on the fun, so he found a few friends to join. Luke and I were just fine meeting people as they were brought to us. Before we knew it, there was a group chat of about fifteen of us with more and more ideas of who to invite to the weekend shenanigans.

The boys had felt the pressure of expectation early this morning before Michael was a functioning human being. He shooed everyone off with a 'ya sure' before hanging up and going back to sleep. Brynn called me with our invite not only to attend the party but to host it at about 5:00 and of course, I freaked out. I plan everything, including some of the most successful events of my college career, if I do say so myself, so I took the praise for last week's party in stride. The difference is, I didn't spend my week planning out this event down to the second hand, so anything can happen. I wouldn't feel all the way like expelling my insides if it hadn't been confirmed that the first-year football players were going to be in attendance after today's match.

This confirmation came directly to Ash from another one of his mates from college, Calum Hood. Not only the best first year but the best player on the whole bloody team. He's also the hottest. The first time I saw him, he was leaving the classroom I was walking into. He opened the door just as I turned the handle, pushing me backward and almost to the floor.

"My fault, mate," he said distractedly, zipping his bag and flipping it over his shoulder. He was obviously sponsored by Nike dressed top to bottom in their slate grey gear, the school's emblem attached to every piece. The only thing I could tell wasn't sponsored was the gray beanie he had pulled down over his ears covering his hair. When he finally looked up a smirk graced his pink lips.

"You alright, doll?"

I couldn't tell if my reaction showed on my face because I didn't expect him to be so adorable with the brute force, he opened the door with. I just nodded my head taking deep breaths, trying to keep my face still. His tan skin was smooth and warm, complimenting the heat in his eyes that was slowly melting my resolve.

"Right. Well you're late, so you might want to…" he trailed off, nodding over his shoulder into the classroom.

"Right," I replied, hoping my hair was doing that cool thing it does when the wind pushes it back. It's either doing that, or the curls are fighting themselves on top of my head. It's so thick I can never really tell without a mirror, but let's be honest. My hair tells me what it wants to do, I rarely have any say in the matter. Instead of walking out of the door, he extended his arm, acting as a human door frame for me to walk under. When I turned my head to look again, he was gone.

I showed up a little earlier to class the next day to see if I could catch him again. Then I was late again and right on time before I decided to be outside the room before his class even ended. He was still nowhere to be found. I had practiced redeeming myself with a smile or maybe even words. Anything but how cringe-worthy I had been the first time, but to no avail. I didn't see him again until the boys dragged us to the first football game.

I don't mind sports at all. I grew up going to my older brother's rugby matches, so I'm not entirely clueless. Brynn, on the other hand, sat unmoving and quiet for the first time in our friendship. I think she concerned Ashton the most, as he asked her if she was ok every time the ball stopped moving.

"Someone tell me why I chose the guitar over football again," Luke said, pulling his hands down his face. "I was just as good as him, but now he's got fans and his face on posters."

"If that was true, I'm sure you'd be out there, dude," Mikey said, patting his shoulder. Michael wasn't interested in playing sports unless it was FIFA on the Xbox, but he was supportive nonetheless. Luke wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer, so he could point out the center forward dribbling through two defenders.

"That's my best mate, or at least he was before he got club offers," he said, taking a swig of his beer.

"I'm surprised he even came to university. He could've just gone pro," Ash said before he cursed the refs loudly. The boy Luke had been pointing out was quick with powerful legs and defined arms. His jaw was clenched, making it sharp enough to cut through glass. Thick curly hair was pushed out of his face with a thin gauzy headband, a gold streak shone prominently in the surrounding darkness of his curls. As he made quick work of the remaining defender, there was only himself and the goalkeeper who looked menacing. Making a sharp left jab, he caused the goalie's weight to shift, giving him the perfect opportunity to use his nondominant foot for a goal.

I jumped out of the way as the boys leaped up, hugging each other, and spilling beer. The entire crowd erupted in shouts, holding on to one another as if the world depended on it.

"CALUM! CALUM! CALUM!" the entire stadium roared. He smirked up at the crowd with a small wave. I gasped, grabbing onto Brynn's arm in surprise.

"Calum?" I asked incredulously. Oh boy what did I miss out on being dumbstruck? Not only is he incredibly attractive, but he's a football king? My parents would love him, I would literally win my family if I could've snagged him, but I'm stupid. So incredibly stupid.

This is why tonight is so stressful and important. If I can not only get a football player, but the best football player here and he looks that good, I can get my parents off my back. My mum went to university solely to get a husband, which she found in my dad. She worked as a primary school teacher until he could support them at his father's law firm, and before you know it, he was running the place. They pop out a few kids, dad runs for Parliament, and the rest is unfortunately history. Mum loved teaching, but she loved being a mum more. She just raised the 'perfect children' she liked to say to anyone who would listen. My too perfect to be true brother Cleo and her wannabe prima ballerina Celeste, me. So tonight, I have to look perfect, and everything has to be perfect, but I don't have time to bustle around and host. This party has to go on autopilot, so I can set my focus on Calum.

"It could be worse, Celley," Brynn shrugged as she set the grocery bags down on the counter of the boys' home. She's right, it could be. I didn't expect it to be this clean actually, but there were no discarded clothes in sight, no pizza boxes on the counters, and no beer cans all over the place. At first glance the place looks fine, I just have to get the dishes out of the sink and out of sight, so they're not broken. A quick vacuum run and the place would work out just fine. I relaxed a little letting my shoulders pull forward.

"Thank you, Lukey," I said, starting the water in the sink. I knew he was the only person who really did any cleaning around here. As much as they were all messy, he couldn't live in filth for too long.

"No problem," he replied sitting on the island watching me work.

"Hey, I picked up my own stuff," Michael complained looking through the bags we brought in pulling out various things.

"You picked up the underwear that your mum wrote your name in and sat back down." Ash always laughs when he chastises, never letting you know if he’s serious or not.

"Exactly. I picked up MY stuff. You guys never listen to me." He shook his head, disapprovingly.

"Thank you too, Mikey, but start throwing those balls around this kitchen, and I will cut yours off as a replacement," I said sweetly. His eyes went wide as he set the ping pong balls back in the bag he got them out of.

"So, what's the vibe going to be tonight?" Brynn asked, putting chips in bowls and swatting the boys’ hands away.

"Well I accidentally invited like twenty people this morning."

"And those people invited people," Ash added.

"And word got around so looks like we've got ourselves a rager," Luke said, rubbing his hands together with a devilish grin. "You've got to admit, we're becoming the best party house for first years."

"Calm down. We're just the only first-years who don't live in dorms where you can't party," Ashton said, punching Luke in the arm. Not many groups of friends stay together long enough or get into the same university for their parents to go in thirds on the house. It worked out to be less expensive than staying in dorms.

"We've got the fucking football team coming, Ash, I think we're doing pretty well." I listened to their banter silently as I cleaned and set things exactly where I had imagined them. The first guest started to arrive a few hours later after I had time to add a few extra touches and have my first glass of the wine Brynn and I had hidden in the fridge. Neither of us is too keen on liquor or beer.

Boys are scattered around the living room, passing around joints and playing FIFA. Girls talk around them, mingling on the patio. There’s a very competitive game of beer pong going on in the dining room that somehow consists of all four corners of the table instead of teams on halves. I was content for the first few hours refilling bowls and dancing with friends I had made at past parties. I even had time to play wingman for Michael and a blue-haired girl in the corner, but soon I got anxious. It was reaching the first hour of the new day. I found myself sitting on the floor between Luke's long legs watching him play Super Smash and stealing hits of the joint he had held between his fingers. I gave up on being cute at about two, smoking enough for my eyes to be as red as Luke's, and my shoes had long been discarded in one of the boy's rooms. I didn't know, nor did I care who's it was.

There were just about the maximum amount of people possible crammed into this small house, and I didn't bother saying excuse me as I got up to make my way to the bathroom. At one point there were so many people taller than me I felt I was walking through a forest. I tried slipping past one particularly muscular redhead boy caging a giggling blonde against the wall. I did my best to slip behind him, but he decided it was the perfect time to do the douche stretch and flex hitting me with the red cup in his hand. The pink sticky drink that was delicious if I do say so myself covered me from neck to foot. My skin went hot, and I'm pretty sure the blonde's giggles were going to cause me to evaporate the liquid from my skin with embarrassment alone. Where was my snarky American friend when I needed her to tongue-lash someone?

"I'm sorry, love," the boy said, failing to conceal his laughter. I tried to avoid his face at all costs burning a hole through his chest with my eyes. The school's emblem was stitched into his slate grey shirt, but I couldn't quite remember where I had seen this exact shirt before. I didn't have time to worry about it with my shirt becoming more see-through by the second and my head spinning in circles.

"Just let me by please," I said. Redhead stepped closer to the girl who was giving me a snarky look over his shoulder. "Stay in your lane, honey," I said, trying out one of Brynn's colloquialisms on my own tongue. My glare was enough to split the crowd like the red sea as I stormed past. Just as I reached the bathroom and twisted the handle, it swung open forcefully, revealing a disheveled brunette with smeared makeup and haunting blue eyes.

"What the fuck happened to you?" she said with an amused smile playing at the corner of her lips.

"I could ask you the same thing," I said, pushing my hair out of my face. "Are you finished in there, so I can get cleaned up or?" She just smirked sauntering out with a wink. I shook my head, entering the bathroom and shutting the door behind me. I looked in the mirror at my hair that was slowly but surely frizzing out, and my shirt may as well have been a window into my soul for how see-through it was. My mascara was smudged in the corners of my eyes and my lips had lost their shine ages ago.

"Are you alright?" I was startled by a voice coming from the toilet.

"Oh my goodness, I didn't know anyone was in here," I said, covering my eyes. "I thought that girl was the only one and she left and--"

"It's fine. I'm not doing anything but looking at my phone." I peeked through the cracks of my fingers to see a boy was sat on the toilet cover searching diligently through his phone. I scanned him from head to toe. Black Vans, faded black skinny jeans, a cut-up muscle shirt that was barely attached at his hips, exposing his defined torso and arms. His warm skin, his dark hair with a single gold streak running up the front. I gulped, hoping I would take my own advice and just spontaneously combust.

"I'm gonna just go," I said quietly, reaching for the door behind me. I had forgotten how quick he was on the field because he scared me shitless when his hand captured my shoulder stopping me from leaving.

"No, I'll go," he said quickly. "I don't think I'm going to find what I'm looking for anyways. Unless… do you happen to know whose party this is?"

"It's my mate's house actually," I said, quirking an eyebrow in confusion. He should know. He invited himself and the whole team this morning.

"So you know all the lads? Michael, Ashton…"

"And Luke," I finished for him.

"I've been trying to reach Ashton and I just barely caught Mikey before he went down to the beach with some girl. He let me in, but there's so much going on I never made it past the kitchen. Do you know where Luke is?"

"Uh… couch." I pushed my hair out of my face taking a deep breath. I may as well just give up at this point. I'm in no position to charm anyone, and I can see the remnants of that girl's lip gloss on his lips. It was kind of cute on his pink pout, but I shook my head to clear the thought. He's not looking at me like that, and he probably never will.

I turned the faucet on testing the temp before grabbing a washcloth from the cupboard and washing the stickiness from my neck and exposed stomach. I expected him to leave, but he just sat back on the toilet cover, fiddling with his thumbs. He looked forlorn, his eyes longing.

"You ok?" I asked undoing the tie at the front of my shirt and attempting to wring it out to no avail. I glanced at the sad boy in the mirror and shrugged before pulling the wet material over my head and rinsing it out underneath the water. It's not like anything was left to the imagination with it on.

"Have you ever heard Luke say anything about me?" he asked quietly.

"Kinda," I tilted my head slightly as if it would help me think harder. "He did say you used to be his best mate when we went to one of your matches."

"He did?" he asked, perking up like a puppy.

"Yeah, watches every match. About loses his mind with pride every time you score, which you do quite often, good on you," I said, fixated with the faint pink water swirling around the drain. Maybe it wouldn't be a lost cause to put this in the wash. I'm so high and sleepy it probably won't make it tonight. "Well, I'm gonna go. If you work it up in you to go see Lu, tell him I've gone back to my flat. I'm sure he'd be thrilled to see you."

"I'll do that," he said, standing up assuredly. "I'm Calum, by the way."

"I gathered that," I said with a small grin. "I'm Celeste." When I opened the door, I didn't imagine how bad it might look with me leaving sans shirt, with the school's football star following close behind me. I decided to start caring in the morning when I had Brynn to complain to. I'm a person who knows how to quit while they're ahead. My perfect night shouldn't be able to get any worse, and I'm not going to give the universe the time to try.

#5sos fanfic #5sos #Calum Hood #calum hood fanfiction #Calum Hood fanfic #Luke Hemmings #michael clifford #Ashton Irwin #First fic #Perfect Ch. 1 #five seconds of summer #football!Calum

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egoludes · 5 years

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spark / s.m.

note: to be honest with y’all, this is just some random content inspired by my love for shawn’s grammy suits. the spark thing is a) totally random and b) giving me strong soulmate vibes, but i don't explore that too much here - maybe in sequels? but, for now, here’s some dirty post-grammys fun and a little softness too! hope you enjoy!

warnings: nsfw/smut. word count: 4.3k

After months of anticipation (and a few good hours' worth of panic), it's finally here — the Grammys. Even in the middle of all the chaos, you haven’t completely registered that this is happening; that you’re walking a red carpet that was the stuff of dreams just a year ago, and that it’s your name they’re screaming as you do. It'd be an understatement to say you're nervous, but at the center of those nerves is an equal amount of excitement, giddiness even. And it has you moving down the carpet in a daze, smiling so big your jaw hurts.

It's in the middle of all this that you see him; a head taller than most others in the crowd, he’s not hard to spot in a royal blue suit and curls falling into his face. A man who requires no introduction, but it’ll happen all the same, as his manager guides him towards you and yours and he takes the first step to close the distance with a smile.

“Hey — ‘m Shawn. It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

You can’t say you don’t share the sentiment ---- it’s a wonder it’s taken this long when you have such close professional circles. But, that doesn't matter so much as you smile up at him, fingers reaching to tuck a rebellious lock of hair behind your ear. “Y/N — it’s great to meet you, too! Been a long time coming, according to them.” You gesture to your managers who’ve already started chattering like schoolgirls.

He responds with a chuckle, eyes darting towards the two before returning to the photographers watching you. They’re in an absolute frenzy seeing you interact for the first time, and the sight of it has Shawn arching an eyebrow in amusement. A jab of his thumb draws your attention to them. “Think we should give them what they want too?”

You re-focus with a squint, the nonstop flashes a bit overwhelming. And though you can already hear the rumors like sneers in the back of your head, your response is all playful in return, mischief taking your features in a grin. “Don’t see why not!"

That’s all Shawn needs to hear before he’s shifting to pose with you, falling into the motions of every other photo he's taken that night: a hand to the shoulder, head tilted in. But, with the open back of your floor-length gown, his calloused fingers meet exposed skin ---- and then, it happens.

You can only describe it as a spark: a brief, but sharp pulse of electricity that starts in your shoulder and slithers deliciously along the length of your spine. And in your shock, you don’t think to hide your reaction, lips parting in an audible gasp that you try to muffle in a cough. It falls flat, though, obviously forced, and it takes everything you have not to glance at him — not that you need to when you can feel how hard he’s staring.

Had he felt that too? Or is he judging your incredibly weird reaction to his closeness?

Something tells you it's likely the latter.

Either way, you bear it for a few pictures, eyes darting in the direction of whichever photographer calls your name loud enough before you step back with a ‘Thanks’ muttered into your chest. He starts to say something, hand half-stretched towards you, but your urge to save face is volumes louder and you give a sheepish wave before darting to the next stretch of carpet.

You can still feel him watching you as you go.

////

The ceremony is a blur in the best sense of the word. You don’t win the award you’re nominated for, but somehow, even the loss is colored rose by the happiness of being there. By the end of the night, though, you’re more than ready to leave it behind, growing excited for another part of the festivities: the after-parties.

You’re still getting used to the madness that is Los Angeles after dark, but this is one night out you won’t miss. So, with your team and closest friends on hand, you leave the Staples Center like you’re on a mission. The first place you end up boasts enough faces you recognize and music you enjoy that you’re eager when you venture past the crowded entryway. And when he finds you for the second time that night, it’s with a glass in your hand and hips swaying easily to the music.

“Hey."

You’ve only heard that voice in person once now, but the bass in it feels more familiar than anything else in the room. And you're already a bit bashful, cheeks heating up as you turn around to face the source. “Hey, Shawn."

Admittedly, he’s surprised you aren’t running, half-convinced you’d give the same cold shoulder from earlier. But, when it seems you’re staying put, he smiles, leaning in to make sure you can hear each other over the noise. “You were really amazing up there tonight,” the compliment comes with a soft smile, though there’s something far less innocent in his eyes, “couldn’t look away."

He makes you nervous — about as nervous as you’d been at the start of the night — but that doesn’t stop you from smiling at his kindness, heart fluttering with every word. “Aw, thank you — it was honestly the greatest thing I’ve ever done. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so good on a stage.” You’re grinning then, watching him almost playfully. “But, I guess I don’t have to tell you that, huh? You were just as amazing."

He’s about to respond, somewhere between pleased and coy, when someone barrels into you from behind. Between the alcohol in your system and the sky-high heels, it’s a guaranteed recipe for disaster and you’re tipping forward before you can even think about catching yourself.

Wide eyes squeeze shut as you brace for a face-first collision with the ground, but, it never comes. Instead, your body meets something much softer, albeit just as sturdy. And when a hand comes up to steady you, once again finding the bare skin of your back, you know exactly what it is by the jolt that travels through you — Shawn.

Maybe it’s the lowered inhibitions from the drinking, or a boldness that you’ll blame on the night’s energy; but you let out a soft whimper without thinking about it, a sound that makes him suck in a breath. On the red carpet, it had been easy to dismiss your gasp as a fluke, something he was reading too much into. And as much as he was intrigued by you and the way you left his fingertips buzzing, he’d relegated it to the back of his mind in favor of everything else happening that night. But, this time, there's no denying it.

There's no way around the tension between you when you're making sounds like that and, against his better judgment, he doesn't let you go, even as you find your footing. The proximity stirs a want in him that nearly makes him balk, and though that worry has a tendency to get the best of him, something about you pushes him forward. His fingers tighten their hold. “You feel it too, don’t you?"

Surprise has you tensing as you give him a curious glance, searching his face to gauge how serious he is. But when he watches you back, clearly anticipant, you realize that you’d heard him loud and very clear, and you nod with your stomach turning.

Your response relieves and confuses him all at once — it’s an odd thing to come to terms with, he thinks — and though he doesn’t make a move to separate you, he’s glancing away with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. The expression is pensive ; as though he’s trying to work out where he should go from here.

But, when you get jostled by yet another person forcing their way through the crowd — and pushed closer as a result — his mind is all made up and the hand around your waist tugs you forward while he takes a half-step back. He dips to speak against your hair.

“Come with me?"

You can’t imagine doing anything else.

////

When you come to a stop, Shawn’s hand resting on the small of your back, you’re in a side room that’s nearly empty save for a couple people busied by their phones on the other end. For a moment, you both hesitate about stopping in here — but between the party outside and nonstop stream of people leaving every other room, it’s the best choice you have. Plus, it's dim enough that the others will have no idea who you are without getting uncomfortably close. So, you take advantage of it, settling into a corner of your own with Shawn set squarely between you and them.

Without the music or company to distract you, though, things grow quiet, awkward fast and you find yourself toying idly with the necklace that’s tucked between your breasts. Subconsciously, Shawn reaches up to do the same with his own before rubbing at the back of his neck — maybe this was a little impulsive.

Quickly, the silence becomes too much to bare, and you’re about to suggest going back when he speaks up first. “Listen, I don’t really do this, so, I’m sorry for being so fucking weird about it, but…” He pauses then, eyes narrowing to gauge your reaction before landing, unceremoniously, on your lips. “… I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the red carpet.”

There’s a second of stillness before he clarifies. “Well, kissing you, actually."

If this were any other time, or any other person, you might have laughed. You might have pushed them away, cursed them out, maybe run away altogether ; and you would not be thinking about kissing them too.

But, right now, with Shawn Mendes watching you with eyes that are equal parts dark and hopeful, that’s the only thing you’re thinking about. The only thing you’ve thought about for most of the night, constant beneath the award show buzz. And hearing him confirm that he’s been as consumed by you as you've been by him only makes the urge worse ; you press closer without thinking. “You haven’t, huh?” You tip your head thoughtfully then, as though his admission requires any inspection. But it doesn’t take long for something more sensual to settle in, your cheeks warm again from anticipation. “Maybe we should do something about that?"

He catches on quickly, a hand reaching to cup your cheek before thumbing a path over your jaw to your chin. “Maybe we should...” The words trail off into a breath that you feel fan over your cheek and you turn into him instinctively from the closeness. There’s a beat of weighted silence — a pause that finds you both searching for second thoughts in each other’s faces before you lean in and let everything else melt away.

You hadn’t come into this with any expectations, but he still manages to blow them all out of the water. His mouth fits against yours easily, naturally and though you want to be mindful of the people in the other corner of the room, you can’t be bothered. Not when he’s so close, so warm and you’re drowning in it, hands finding a spot on his back when you deepen the kiss.

“God, you taste so good.” He lets out in a rumble against your mouth, and you offer him a sigh in response. You could say the same for him, what with the tang of some top-shelf liquor on his tongue ; but the thought of doing anything but this right now flickers out before it even has a chance. You decide, instead, on getting closer, on slipping a hand past his unbuttoned collar to feel his skin as you take his bottom lip between your teeth.

And there it is again — that spark. You’d be convinced it was entirely your imagination if he didn’t react as viscerally as you did — meeting your surprised moan with a grunt while his hands fall from your hips to the swell of your ass. They simply settle at first, letting you both grow accustomed to the way the moment’s progressing ; but when you hum in approval and angle your hips forward into his, Shawn can’t help but chance a little squeeze, purring in delight at the weight of your body in his hands.

“Can we.. do you want to go..?” The question comes out strained and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think him on the verge of begging already. Your eyes open to take him in ---- you nearly coo at the flush in his cheeks. “My hotel’s not far…” He punctuates the words with kisses to your throat, each one more intent than the last. “…and we can probably make it out of here without anyone noticing."

He really doesn’t have to do much to convince you, but you let his question dangle for a moment, focusing, instead, on the way his kisses move all over your skin. Then, when the quiet goes on just a little too long and you can feel him start to tense with worry, you reach fingers into his curls, turning your head to mouth over his ear.

“I thought you’d never ask."

////

It takes thirty minutes to make it from the party to Shawn’s hotel, most of which you spend making out in the back seat with hungry hands. And, by the time the car comes to a rolling stop, your dress is pressed halfway up your thighs and his shirt’s a smidgen more unbuttoned, chest sporting a few red marks.

The sight of each other has you both giggling as you shuffle through the lobby, very visibly well-kissed. But, you try not to dwell on it too much. Not when he gets his hands on you the moment you’re behind the elevator’s closed doors, and you’re sighing from his lips re-gaining its spot on your skin. His room is high enough that he dares to go a little further than your throat this time, kisses trailing down past the slit on the front of your dress to flirt between your breasts.

The contact makes you shiver and him smirk; and when he has to pulls away as you near his floor, you huff — you’ve never been one for waiting, especially when you’re so close to getting what you want. Shawn picks up on it easily, leaning in to nose at your cheek with an endeared grin. “Be patient, hon…com’on.”

As if on cue, the elevator opens with a ding and he threads his fingers between yours to guide you into the hallway. You have to take double steps to keep up with his longer strides, but that only makes this sexier somehow. You use the walk to drink him in, trace the way that black shirt fits the broadness of his shoulders and how good his thighs look in suit pants even from behind. And when you come to a stop in front of his hotel room door, you can’t help but be close, moving until your front is pressed into his back and you can slip your hand back underneath his shirt.

It draws the same reaction from you both the second time around, and he gets the door open as fast as he can to tug you inside with him. As intoxicating as your palm feels, Shawn wants more, needs more and guides your hand out from under his shirt and uses it to spin you out in front of him. It’s an unexpectedly soft gesture, one that has you tossing your head back in laughter as you twirl, and the sound makes him melt. He isn’t any less committed to where this is going tonight, but he knows he’d probably kill to hear that sound a little more.

As many times as you’ll let him, really.

When you come to a stop, you’re half-dizzy, half-dazed and the look on your face makes you downright kissable. So, that’s exactly what he does — hooking hands underneath your thighs to tug you up as he dips his head to meet your mouth. A hum presses through you both at the contact and you’re wrapping arms and legs around him to flatten yourself against his body.

Behind closed doors, there are no inhibitions; no concerns about paparazzi or overly attentive fans. It’s just you and Shawn, shedding clothes with each blind step towards the bedroom until he’s left in unbuttoned slacks and you, your underwear.

He can’t get enough of you like this, and even before he’s lowered you to the mattress, he’s exploring, hands sliding up your back and down your sides until they can settle, for the millionth time, on your legs. His body vibrates with the anticipation of having them wrapped around him, but he pushes the thought aside to focus on what he wants far more right now, seeing you spread out before him.

“I’ve been wondering...” his fingers trail over your thigh, not stopping until the pads meet you through your underwear. They’re already soaked through and he has to fight back a moan as he touches over the fabric. “If you taste as good here too…” He admits this to excite you, but the catch in his breath as he says it makes it obvious that he’s as affected by the thought as you are. “..Can I?"

Your throat’s too dry for you to speak, so you’re nodding with a soft breath and a bite at your lip to give him permission. But, that isn’t enough for him, not even close; and though he’s already found a way between your legs, working your panties off with kisses to your thigh, he won’t give you what you want until he hears you. “Nuh-uh… say it.” As soft as his voice is, you can still work out a teasing lilt, a tone that makes you shudder when you feel his nose against your hip. Your immediate instinct is to tease right back ; but after hours of wanting him, you just can’t hold out much longer.

"Please."

It's all he needs to hear before he's moving forward, licking one broad stripe between your folds before letting his tongue curl around your clit. He flicks at the nub a few times to watch you shake before wrapping his mouth around it in a suckle. Your head tips back into the already messy sheets and you part your lips in a whimper, too fucked to make a real sound.

And as delightful as that reaction is, Shawn’s greedy, impressively so after so little time. All he wants is to push you further, make you unravel, and he's reaching to cup one of your breasts, thumbing the nipple until it pebbles before tweaking it between two fingers. The pressure makes you jolt and your hips follow suit, drawing a long groan from the man between your legs. “Fuck,” Shawn gasps out, chest tight from how badly he wants you. “What’re you doin’ to me?"

The question is nothing short of rhetorical because there’s no way he doesn’t know the answer.

Everything.

You’re doing everything to him; too much and not enough at the same time as every part of you floods his senses. And while he can’t make any sense of how you’ve gone from a stranger to this so fast, it feels right — destined, almost — and he lets himself fall into it headlong. His head tips so he can press his tongue into you for a moment before he replaces it with a finger, and then two, purring at how you constrict to meet him.

Feeling him stretch you almost brings you to your breaking point as you mess up his curls with eager tugs and gasp out for him like a prayer. This feels good, so good — but it’s not nearly enough, and you’re scrambling for his hands to tell him so. A few good pulls has him popping up, face flushed and eyes lidded, and when his eyes settle on you, you can only manage a single word: “Inside."

The blanks are easy to fill in and he’s moving over you so fast, it makes you dizzy for a second time. Him kissing you is steadying, though, and keeps you occupied as he fumbles for a condom from his bedside table — thank god he’d followed that instinct — and gets it on in as fluid a motion as he can manage. Then, he lines himself up, the head of his cock nudging against you teasingly enough that you whine. The sound draws a chuckle - he doesn’t plan to leave you wanting long.

Pressing into you is slow, deliberate; and as he disappears inside of you, the world goes dark. Then, all at once, it’s hot-white, blinding, and you’re arching off the bed with a cry that makes him tremble. The sparks are back and all over, ten times as strong when you’re naked and pressed together at every point. And though he told himself he’d take it slow, do this right, he can’t think straight when you’re so tight around him. His head falls forward as his lips part in an oh and he’s nuzzling against your throat as he snaps his hips forward to bottom out.

Once he's settled, he braces himself over you with a drawn out breath, hooded eyes trailing over you in what could only be awe. He wants to move, badly, but as much as his hips ache from the urge, he stays put ; he’s already gotten away with pressing in so fast. This time, he leaves the ball in your court, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he shifts against you. “You gotta tell me, hm?” There’s that desperation again, raw in his already-gravelly voice, and that alone is more than you can take. “Tell me I can move."

He doesn’t have to ask you twice — frankly, he could have gotten away without asking you at all — as you reach to find his hips and tug them forward with a pointed hiss. “Move, Shawn,” you gasp out, tightening your grip on him, “fucking move."

Something dangerous flashes in his eyes at that and one of his hands reach down for your thigh, hiking your leg up at his waist as he takes his first full thrust. The impact makes your eyes flutter closed and he’s tsking fast, his lips finding purchase on your jawline. “Let me see you, Y/N… I wanna see you."

He asks so sweetly, how can you tell him no? Your eyes re-open and he purrs, rewarding you with another, more pointed thrust. Your hands shoot for his shoulders, nails digging into the skin, and the pain seems to spur him on, a shudder passing through him as he finds a quick and needy rhythm.

He already knows he won’t last long with all the sensations washing over him. So, his focus, with each snap of his hips, is you. He ducks his head to find your nipple with his mouth, nipping at it before taking it all the way in. And when your body goes pliant from the contact, he reaches down to rub at your clit with his fingers, already panting as he goes.

“Oh, god —“ you echo his desperation from earlier, legs opening a bit more to give him room as you feel a familiar intensity pool in your tummy. It’s the fastest you’ve ever gotten close to climax, but like him, you know that there’s something special about this. Your bodies are in hyperdrive, uber-sensitive to everything that’s happening. And as much as you might want this to last, you know it doesn’t need to. It’s perfect like this, just as it is.

Your hips move to meet his with every motion, the nails in his shoulder shifting to rake over his scalp. And it’s almost like unleashing a beast, the way his body tenses, rhythm hiccups, and mouth busies against you. He’s too gone to make much sense now, but you can eck meaning out of his increasingly shorter breaths.

Close.

You turn into him with a murmured “Me too,” before your legs tighten to pull him in deeper and you tip your head to search for his lips. The kiss that follows is sloppy, and only grows sloppier as you both hit your peaks. Your bodies arch and shake, minds emptying of anything that isn’t the other, and though he’s caught up in the pleasure of spilling inside of you, Shawn has enough awareness to search out your hand, intertwining your fingers.

And when you both emerge from your orgasms, panting and dazed, that’s exactly how you stay, limbs and fingers tangled up in a neat puzzle. He searches your face for any sign of displeasure, or worse, regret — but, to his relief, he doesn’t get it. Instead, you offer him the tender gaze of a lover he’s known for much longer and the sight of it makes his heart sing.

He pulls your hand to his mouth to pepper kisses over your knuckles ; and when your expression grows shyer ( affection’s never been your strong suit ), he shakes his head, wet curls flopping against his forehead. “Don’t hide from me,” he murmurs, moving to rub his nose over yours with his lips stretching into a smile. "You don’t have to."

And somehow you know he’s absolutely right.

#shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #wow ok i haven't written anything this long in a v long time #i'm proud bc i told myself i would get this out within a week of the grammys with my work schedule this week #and it's a day early! woo!

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