#i like the idea of these three meeting…buying flowers…its nice

[delicourse]

in honor of the first gk woman…..ume….

#golden kamuy #kenmochi umeko #gk #kaneko kaeko #harumi chiyo #deliart #happy shes doing well #drawing gk women is ulitmately my duty as one of the at most 4 lesbiabs in this fandom #Doing My Part 🫡 #(salute emoji) #i like the idea of these three meeting…buying flowers…its nice #also an excuse to draw kaeko ough i loove my 4 chapter backstory only queen

[highmarc]

Spending time together

Sebastian

Will probably take MC to Honeydukes.

MC: *arrives a bit later than expected* Hello, Sebastian. I hope I’m not too late. *is basically out of breath*

Sebastian: No you’re not. I just got here myself. 50 minutes ago…

MC: I’m terribly sorry! There was this mooncalf I had to rescue and a-

Sebastian: I peeerfectly understand. *sly smile* Your treat this time.

MC: All right. But don’t just buy everything you see.

Sebastian: Oh, I won’t.

*grabs anything he can think of at Honeydukes*

MC: *in panic* Sebastian?

Sebastian: Yes?

MC: *whispering* I forgot my purse!

Sebastian: Oh Merlin’s… I thought you were bringing the money, so I-

MC: You what?

*grabs MC by the hand and runs out of the shop with them*

Later at Hogwarts.

MC: can’t believe we stole these… This is going to be in my record.

Sebastian: Nah, you’ll be fine. *sees that MC are not actually fine*

Don’t tell me you think about becoming an auror….

Ominis

Hogsmeade pond meeting. The meeting will be completely accidental.

Ominis: *angrily throws stones in the pond*

MC: *notices familiar face and approaches Ominis* Hello, Ominis. It’s nice to see you here.

Ominis is startled at first, but then faintly smiles.

Ominis: Hello there, MC. How do you fare?

MC: I guess I’m just fine. What about you?

Ominis: I don’t know. I’ve just… met my older brother here. Hogsmeade. Of all places. *sighs*

MC: What was he doing here? How do you know it was him and not someone else?

Ominis: He approached to talk to me. Nothing good was in his words. Always going on and on about “the family”. How they “need” me. I laughed in his face and walked away. Not a single owl all these years, all those horrors I had to witness… and now they need me. The Gaunts have some twisted sense of humour.

MC: I’ll say.

*gently hugs Ominis*

MC: I bet you’re in dire need of cheering up. What about a butterbeer or two? My treat. Or we can go wherever you like-

Ominis: No, I like the idea. Besides, I ran out of stones already.

Poppy

The Three Broomsticks it is.

MC: You’ve never had a butterbeer in your entire life?

Poppy: Nope.

MC: Ever?

Poppy: I just… *sighs* You’re one of my first friends here. No one would just go and have a butterbeer with me.

Who would like to be seen around “the Peculiar Poppy”?

MC: I would. For sure. Don’t mind those bullies, you’ve got lots of friends – me, that scary dragon which almost ate us, its offspring, and, of course, Highwing! Do you think we could bring her some butterbeer?

Poppy: I don’t know. Do you think they serve beer in buckets here?

MC: Only one way to find out! *happy wink*

Natsai

Flower field.

MC are in search for a very particular runaway niffler.

MC: Where have you gone, I wonder? Little thief-

*sees a gazelle happily prancing through a flower field. And is completely mesmerized by the sight*

MC: Merlin’s beard. Is it-

*approaches the gazelle*

Natty!*waves to their friend*  How wonderful to meet you here!

Natty: * turns into human form then blushes*

Ah, my friend. I did not expect to meet you here. A pleasant surprise indeed.

MC: Enjoying the weather and local views?

Natty: Yes, I thought how nice it would be to run through these fragrant fields and feel the sun’s warmth on my back, the wind whispering its songs in my ears.

MC: You sound so poetic! I wish I could enjoy something like this too.

Natty: Oh, in fact you can, too.  Let’s seat here.

The two sit amidst tall grass and flowers, feeling the wind in their hair and the sun’s gentle warmth.

MC: It feels so nice.

Natty: I know. That’s why you should sometimes stop, forget about all the worries burdening you heart, and hear what nature whispers to you.

MC: *slowly makes a flower crown and puts it on Natty’s head*

Natty: *gasps and blushes* Thank you, this is so sweet!

MC: The nature whispered it to me. *beaming smile*

#hogwarts legacy headcanons #hogwarts legacy mc #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #poppy sweeting #natsai onai

[honestlyspookytyphoon]

Cake, Coffee And ... Charles

Synopsis: Unexpectedly, you meet a group of celebrity friends in a small café in France. What happens when you ask them to watch your stuff while you make a phone call?

Word count: +/- 2.5k words of me daydreaming about one of my (many) crushes 🥺 

Warnings: none, I think? I originally intended it to be angst, but I decided to go all-in and add a fluff ending instead. Not really proof-read so probably some language mistakes, my apologies! 

A/N: Translation (French/English or vice versa) is provided if necessary.  I am now going for Charles as the male protagonist (just to put a name), but you can imagine anyone you like! Feedback is highly appreciated! 🤗

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

When you and two colleagues first got the idea to go to a 3-day scientific conference in Nîmes, a historical city in the South-East of France, it had seemed wonderful. 

Nice weather and great food. A beautiful scenery and French gentlemen.  La douce France at its finest.

Yesterday, the three of you arrived at the hotel well on time. Your room was tidy, the bed was comfortable and it was only a 10 min walk from where you stayed to the city centre. After you washed off the tiredness of a 5-hours TGV-trip, you went out. Strolling through the many narrow and colourful streets and seeing the Arena and other ancient Roman buildings, you fell in love with the city immediately. The next two days are going to be amazing, you thought to yourself. 

Today, however, had been nothing but a nightmare.

On you way to the venue, the weather had decided to become an absolute brat. The pouring rain got you drenched, the humidity made you sweat like a horse.  You felt dirty.

The presentations had been way too high-level and sucked all the energy from your brain. You really tried to understand the maths that were involved.  But you failed miserably.

The deliciously looking chocolate cupcakes had been devoured before you even got to the snack tray.  You were hungry.

The final straw was the fact that both your colleagues announced that they would leave earlier then expected, meaning that they could not attend your presentation tomorrow. 

Long story short, your mood was going down. Fast.

It was now 5.30 pm. The day had ended and everybody was expected to meet outside the conference venue at 7.30 pm to go for dinner. Instead of joining the others in pre-drinking, you decided to go back to your hotel room to shower and change and rest for a bit.

On your way to the hotel, you passed by a small, cosy café, which, you realised, did not catch your eye before. The front of the little house was painted pastel blue and the tables under the porch were covered with cute checkered table cloths. The porch itself was decorated with fairy lights and the most beautiful  flowers you had ever seen. Seeing the café lifted your mood instantly. I have to visit this gem tomorrow, you said to yourself.

The final day of the conference went by in a haze. Your presentation was scheduled just before lunch and you had been nervous the entire morning. However, once you stood there, microphone in hand, things went very well. You managed to respect the 20 minutes timeframe without missing the essentials and you had several interesting discussions afterwards. 

There were no presentations scheduled in the afternoon and many participants were packing or had already left. You had opted to leave tomorrow, such that you could still buy some souvenirs for your parents - a tradition you started years ago. You had managed to score some beautiful decorations for your mum and a cute can of traditional sweets for your dad. Being pleased with the gifts, you decided to visit that café you saw earlier and treat yourself to a delicious local pastry.

It was 4.30 pm and, apart from a small group of friends, the café was empty. You greeted the bartender and took a seat next to the window. While admiring the interior of the café, your eyes landed on said group of friends. One of the guys was looking your way. Your eyes met and you flashed him a smile. He smirked and whispered something to his friends.

“Bonjour, Mademoiselle. Veuillez-vous quelque chose à boire ou manger?”, the bartender asked.  Hello miss, would you like a drink or something to eat?

French was not your first language, and although you were quite good at it in school, it was a long time since you last spoke it. Nonetheless, you always tried to speak the local language when you were abroad, so you collected yourself and tried to answer. Keep it simple.

“Oui, j’aimerais un thé vert et quelque chose petite à manger. Avez-vous des patisseries locaux, peut-être?” Yes, I would like a green tea and something small to eat. Do you happen to have any local specialties on the menu?

“Bien sur!  Aujourd’hui, nous offrons La reine de Seba. C’est un petit cake chocolat avec poudre des amandes. C’est comme un brownie.” Of course! Today, we offer La reine de Seba. It is a small chocolate-almond cake. It is very similar to a brownie.

“C’est parfait. Merci beaucoup” That sounds perfect, thank you very much.

While waiting for your order to arrive, you decided to quickly check your phone. To your surprise, you had four missed calls from your supervisor. You must have been in town when she called. Sensing an urgency, you decided to ring her back. You noticed the low signal symbol, so you knew you had to go outside to call her.

Instead of packing all your things and leaving the bartender confused, you decided to leave your belonging in the café and ask someone to watch them while you were out. Since the bartender was out of sight, you had to ask one of the friends. A bit hesitant, you got up and approached their table.

“Euh, mes excuses de vous déranger, mais je dois téléphoner et je n’ai aucun signal ici. Est-ce que vous voulez gardez un oeil sur mes choses pour quelques minutes, s’il-vous-plaît?” Sorry to bother you, but I have to make a call and I do not have any signal here. Do you mind watching my things for a minute?

“Ah, bien oui. Pas de problème, ma belle”, the guy you greeted earlier responded. Of course. No problem, dear.

Thanking them, you made your way outside. The guy, whom you would later meet as Pierre, turned to his friends.

“Je n’ai pas menti, tu vois. Elle est polie et très mignonne. Et avez-vous vu qu’elle porte un badge de l’ université? Elle est intelligente aussi! Une 10/10, à mon avis.”  

I did not lie, did I? She is kind and very cute. Also, did you see that she has a badge from the university? This means she is smart as well! A 10/10 if you ask me.

The others threw in arguments and started to discuss how amazing their significant others were. Charles stayed silent. 

He did not have a girlfriend. Being a professional racing driver meant that he was always in the public eye, always busy training or travelling around the world. Although he hates to admit it, it was not an ordinary job. He was not an ordinary guy. He was a well-known face in France, which lead to girls throwing themselves at his feet but also made it hard to find someone who looked past the racing driver name-and-fame. And if he did, the girl was screwed over by the media or fans or the distance got the best of their relationship, leading to Charles breaking things off. He did not really mind being single, since he was always surrounded by friends, family or his team, but he would lie if he said that he did not miss someone to love love.

He was still looking into the direction of the exit/entrance, hoping you would be back soon. “Ca serrais dommage si nous ne la verrons jamais, n’est ce pas Charles?”, Pierre teased. It would be a shame if we never saw her again, would it not, Charles?

Charles started blushing. “Euh”, he stuttered, “je ne sais pas. Elle est jolie, oui, mais nous ne la connaissons pas. Et, en plus, elle ne nous connait pas. Elle ne s’intéresse pas au monde de F1”. I do not know. She is pretty, yes, but we do not really know her. She did not even recognize any of us. She is not interested in the world of F1.

“Tu es incroyable. Qu’est-ce-que tu veux? Qu’elle commence à crier au regard de nous? Nous tous savons que relations avec fans ne marchent pas.”, Pierre sighs. You are unbelievable. What do you want? That she starts crying when she sees us? We all know that relationships with fans do not work.

Charles had to agree. All of them had one or more relationships with fans before and they all ended badly. Maybe it was not a bad idea to look for someone who was a complete outsider. Pierre knew his best friend. He knew that Charles was having a debate with himself, on whether to talk to this girl or not and risking to fall in love. Pierre had been in situations like this before. He had never been short on female attention, but it was only at the start of his current relationship that he has felt some nervousness talking to a girl. Charles had encouraged him to talk to his now fiancée and this was the perfect opportunity to pay him back.

“Elle va rentrer. Confies-moi, mon frère.”, Pierre winked. She is coming back. Trust me, my brother.

Charles groaned. Pierre was up to something and he did not know to be happy or scared. Or both.

You re-entered the café in a fuzzy state. Your supervisor has called to ask how your presentation went. Instead of being happy that all went well and some interactions were sparked, she decided to start questioning your delivery and answers to the questions. You did want not your high to become a low, so you suggested to discuss all when you were back. Damn, you hoped the cake did not take long to be served. You needed chocolate.

Heading back to your table, you saw the bartender signaling that your order was ready. Thanking him, you took your plate and went back to your table. However, you did not miss the guy from earlier looking at you again, and you realised you have not thanked them yet. 

“Merci encore pour garder un oeil, c’était très sympa de vous.” Thank you again for watching my things. It was very kind of you.

“De rien. Je m’appelle Pierre”.  He offers you his hand. “Quel est ton nom, ma belle?” You are welcome. My name is Pierre . What is your name, dear?

“Je m’appelle Y/N. Enchantée, Pierre.” I am Y/N. Nice to meet you Pierre.

“Es-tu ici toute seule? Parce que tu peux s’assoir ici si tu veux.” Are you all alone? Because you can come sit here with us if you want. 

“C’est très gentil de vous, mais je ne veux pas déranger. Je vous connais, je sais qui vous êtes. Je veux respecter vos reposes et privacy. En plus, je ne suis pas française, donc je ne vais comprendre rien de vos questions ou réponds”, you answered shyly. That is very kind of you, but I do not want to impose. I know who you are. I want to respect your time-off and privacy. Also, I am not French so I would not understand a thing of what you are saying or asking.

You knew who they were. Ever since the 2021 championship, F1 has revived in your country and it was hard to escape. To be honest, you were not that into F1 - you were more into MXGP and MotoGP - but you knew the in and outs of the sport. 

“You are not disturbing if we ask you, right? And do not worry about not understanding”, Pierre stated, “we will switch to English for a pretty girl like you.”

The blush that rose to your cheeks was the only confirmation Pierre needed. Shooting a quick wink to Charles, he got up to take your plate and placed it at the empty spot next to him and across Charles. 

I hate you, Charles thought.

Charles’ brain stopped working the moment you were in front of him. Your hair was put together in a messy bun, with some loose strands falling out. Your jeans and red top hugged your silhouette in all the right places. You held and started conversations so effortlessly. How you got along with Pierre and laughed at his stupid jokes. Damn, he was a lost cause already. 

“Right, Charles?”, Pierre asked. 

Charles’ face went blank. He was zoned out and did not know what to say. Pierre saw the confused expression on his friend’s face and smirked. I knew he would fall for her. Why am I so good at this? He should thank me, buy me a house in Guadeloupe or something.

“You have visited Slovenia already, have you not?” 

Charles was quick to recover. “Yes, I have indeed. Do you want to go?”, he asked, looking in between you and Pierre, not knowing who to answer.

“Hahah, not right now though, that would be a bit weird”, you laughed, “but I do want to go one day. What did you think of Slovenia? Is it worth the visit?”

Your attention was full on Charles now and he was not letting this opportunity pass. 

A couple of teas, cakes and many laughs later, it was 7pm. “Oh, look at the time”, you said surprised, “I really should be going. I still have to pack and check my travel plans for tomorrow.” You started to collect your jacket and purse. “I had a great time talking to you”, you said while looking fondly at Charles, something Pierre did not miss. “Thank you for inviting me”.

“The pleasure was all mine”, Charles said, beaming after what seemed like a 2-hours tête-à-tête with you. “Ours”, Pierre corrected, “the pleasure was all ours”.

“You guys are too kind. Bye Pierre, bye Charles, bye Jean and Théo”. 

You got up and made your way to the door. It took a glare and a kick to the shin from Pierre for Charles to realise that you were really leaving and that he needed to take action if he wanted to see you again. So, before you could open the door and walk out of his life forever, he put a hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey Y/N”

“Hey Charles”, you smiled. 

“Listen, I really enjoyed talking to you. It feels like you know me, even though we just met, and it feels great to be able to talk about other things than racing. So, I was wondering if I could maybe get your number?” 

The shock on your face was visible. I blew it, Charles thought, she thinks I am a creep.

“ I mean, only if you want of course and I will not stalk you, I promise.”

You knew he would not. He was gorgeous and genuine and you would be a fool if you let this guy go. Taking a business card from your purse, you scrapped your work number and wrote your personal number on it instead.

“Here. You can call or text me anytime you want. I will try to answer as soon as I can. Most people only get my work number, you know, so do not lose it.”, you said, shooting Charles a wink and million-dollar smile before walking out of the café.

“I will not, I promise. I will not lose you, Y/N. Never”, Charles said to himself, looking at your number as if he just won the lottery.

#f1 imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc imagine

[quellawrites]

Cupid's spines

Square and prompt: B2, Miscommunication

Title: Cupid's spines

Rating: Teen and up

Word Count: 2078

Ship: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Warnings: No archive warnings apply

Additional tags: Alternate Universe- Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- Human, Getting Together, Attempt at Humor, Mild Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, First Meetings

Summary:

The thing is ugly. It’s roundish and bumpy and its spines are black and irregular. The more Hob looks at it, the more he’s impressed by how truly horrid it looks.

He reaches out and picks it up, careful to not hurt himself with the damn spines. “Perfect,” he murmurs to himself.

“Excellent find,” a deep and beautiful voice says, making him almost jump. “You have chosen a magnificent specimen.”

__

Or, Hob is set on finding the ugliest gift for the head of his department and things (don't) go as planned.

Link to AO3

Written for @dreamlingbingo

Chapter 1-Cupid's arrows come in all shapes.

Hob parks his convertible in front of the garden centre and gets out, swearing under his breath at the sheer size of it. He can see at least four greenhouses from his car and he’s sure his brilliant idea to buy his head of department a plant for her birthday is going to lose him at least one hour and a headache.

The Dreaming, the sign reads. Home of happy plants.

Hob shakes his head at the notion that plants of all things can be happy while he barely holds himself together and steps into the first greenhouse.

A woman is tending to some orchids. There are rows after rows of them, of different sizes, shapes, and colours. 

The temperature is humid in there and even Hob with his black thumb knows it’s perfectly tailored to the plants’ needs. 

If the humidity wasn’t bothering him enough, the mosquitos zooming all over the place are a bloody nightmare, and really, maybe it serves him right for having the brilliant idea to come here in the first place. If he’d gone with Johanna’s idea to buy Ethel a box of chocolates or a nice bottle of wine, he’d already be done with it.

But no, he didn’t want to buy Ethel Cripps something actually nice, so he decided to go with a plant. The uglier and the more complicated to care for, the better.

Hob swears under his breath as he feels one of the little bloodsucking beasts biting at his ankle–and how the bloody hell can they get past his trousers?–and another one at the back of his neck. On instinct, he slams a hand over the nape of his neck and the sound resonates through the place. 

The woman turns, startled by the noise and to her credit, she doesn’t laugh. She greets him with a polite smile. Her name tag reads, Lucienne . “Can I help you, sir?”

“Uh, hello, I need to buy a gift.” 

She politely nods. “Did you have anything in mind?”

“Not really.”

“Can you tell me something about the recipient?”

“Well,” Hob says, trying to think of something about Ethel that’s not the bloody witch he wants to say. “She’s my colleague.”

“She doesn’t like flowers,” he adds feeling only a slight twinge of guilt at the lie, because if he’s forced to buy a gift for Ethel Cripps, he sure as hell will not buy her something as pretty as an orchid.

“We have gorgeous house plants in Jessamy’s greenhouse, the next one over,” the woman, Lucienne, says without losing stride. “And a wide array of cacti and succulents in the one after that. Don’t bother going further because you’ll only find more flowers, herbs, and vegetable seedlings in the last three greenhouses.”

“Thank you,” Hob says and heads toward the exit, waiting until he’s out of the greenhouse to wipe the sweat off his forehead and scratch at some of the dozens of mosquito bites he’s got. 

He glances inside the next greenhouse, but even the flowerless houseplants are too nice of a gift for Ethel, especially after having to suffer through a full scale mosquito attack. 

He ends up going straight toward the third greenhouse because he figures an ugly cactus would perfectly represent the thorn in his side she’s been for the last five years. 

The place seems to be empty. It’s not as humid as the orchid greenhouse, and Hob thanks the heavens for it. He glances around himself and can’t help but notice how neatly arranged everything is. Rows upon rows of long tables, each of them holding hundreds of plants, a white label with their name sticking out of every pot. It appeals to the part of him that wishes he could be capable of such organisation instead of amassing trinkets at every turn.

A bite on his ankle brings him out of his musings and he surreptitiously tries to scratch the itch as he walks past the rows of succulents and heads straight to the cacti. Some of them are kind of pretty and he walks past those as well, until he’s facing the ugly cacti with the longer spines. 

Perfect, he thinks as his eyes roam over the plants, searching for the ideal gift. 

Up close, he notices every name label is written in a neat and flowery cursive. 

Ferocactus Glaucescens , one of them reads. It’s an ugly thing with impressive spines and Hob smiles to himself and thinks he may already have found the perfect gift for Ethel.

He’s about to pick it up when he notices it. 

Euphorbia Horrida . 

It couldn’t have had a more fitting name. The thing is ugly. It’s roundish and bumpy and its spines are black and irregular. The more Hob looks at it, the more he’s impressed by how truly horrid it looks. 

He reaches out and picks it up, careful to not hurt himself with the damn spines. “Perfect,” he murmurs to himself, out loud this time. 

“Excellent find,” a deep and beautiful voice says, making him almost jump. “You have chosen a magnificent specimen.”

Hob is about to laugh when his eyes land on the man. The gorgeous man that’s standing in front of him and that, for some reason, seems to like the atrocity Hob is holding.

The man is wearing total black and he looks more suitable to attend a goth party than tending to a greenhouse, Hob thinks. 

He desperately tries to divert his attention from his long legs, clad in trousers so tight they seem sewn on him. But focusing his attention on the stranger’s face doesn’t seem to be any better for he looks so beautiful he’s almost ethereal and Hob is sure he would slice his thumb open if he were to run it over the man’s cheekbones. His gorgeous blue eyes are enhanced by subtly and artfully applied dark eyeliner. 

He probably is one of the most attractive men Hob has seen in his whole bloody life and he’s looking in awe at the monstrosity in Hob’s hands.

Hob bites back the laugh and whatever remark he was about to make and nods. “Truly magnificent,” he lies.

The stranger smiles. It’s the bare hint of a smile, small and barely there but Hob finds he rather likes what it does to the man's face, how it softens his sharp features.  “Not everyone can recognise beauty when they see it.”

“Their loss,” Hob says, trying to keep a straight face and absolutely avoiding looking at the horror in his hand. 

“Their loss indeed,” the man murmurs and reaches out to straighten a pot on the nearest shelf and Hob can’t help but notice his long, elegant fingers. After hesitating just a beat, the man adds, “I have never seen you here before.” 

“First time,” Hob admits and to keep the conversation going, he stupidly asks, “You work here?”

“I do own the place,” the stranger says, pointing at a name tag that reads, King of the Dreaming. At Hob’s raised eyebrow, he adds, “It is a running joke between my staff.”

Hob smiles, thinking that for all intents and purposes this man looks indeed like a king, like royalty. Feeling bold, he asks, “And does Your Majesty have a name?”

The man smiles a cryptic little smile and says, “Perhaps.”

“I’m Hob,” Hob impulsively says and wants to bite his tongue at his own forwardness.  To make up for it, he stupidly adds, “And this place looks impressive. So many plants!” 

The man acknowledges Hob’s introduction with a small nod but instead of introducing himself in return, he tells Hob about the garden centre.

Hob learns that the stranger–besides being the owner–grows some of the cacti himself. He learns that the man is so passionate about his cacti that he designs new hybrids and he is proud of his creations. 

“That’s impressive,” Hob says. “And you sell them?”

“Some of them,” the man says. “I must confess that it is hard to part from my best creations. Most of them end up enriching my private collection.”

“Must be hard to take care of all of them,” Hob points out and, sweeping his hands around himself in a wide gesture, adds, “In addition to these.”

“Oh, it is a pleasure,” the man answers. ‘’You know that soil and water are everything. Once you have taken care of them, they do not require too much care."

Hob knows nothing but nods anyway because he’s too deep in his lies by now. “Soil and water, yeah.”

“What kinds of inerts do you use?” the stranger asks. 

“Uh,” Hob says, trying to look like he knows what he’s talking about. “You know, the, uh, usual.”

“Ah,” the man says, tilting his head to the side as if to assess Hob. “A traditionalist. I must admit I am a bit of one myself, but once in a while I like to experiment with new kinds of substrates. I am currently waiting for a delivery of a fibre-based inert and I cannot wait to try it with my Ariocarpus.”

What the fuck is an Ariocarpus? Hob wants to ask. He nods seriously instead, pretending to understand everything the man has been saying. “Yeah. Next time, let me know how it goes.”

“But of course,” the man answers, smiling one of his lovely little smiles at Hob and all right, perhaps Hob has a tendency to fall arse over tits too quickly but it may very well be the most beautiful thing Hob has ever seen. “I am looking forward to seeing you again and tell you the results of my experiments.”

“Right. Thanks,” Hob says, perking up a little at the prospect of another chance of talking to this beautiful man but also aware that he’s going to need an excuse to visit if he wants to see him again. “I should be going,” he reluctantly adds, glancing at his watch. “You know, work engagement.”

“I will not keep you from your duties, then,” the man says, leading Hob out of the greenhouse and into a smaller room lined with shelves of products and two small cash registers. 

Behind one of them, sits a blond man in sunglasses but instead of bringing Hob’s purchase to him, the beautiful stranger walks to the second register and motions Hob forward..

The man rings Hob’s plant up in silence and then reaches down under the counter and hands Hob a pair of gardening gloves, wrapped in clear plastic. “On the house,” he says, glancing at the plant. “For the repotting. I am sure you already have adequate gloves, but these are a fairly new release, with thicker pads. You are going to need the extra padding if you are going to deal with that beauty.”

“Thank you,” Hob says, genuinely touched by the kind gesture. He’s pretty glad he’s not actually going to have to deal with the plant at all but he’s touched nonetheless.

“You are quite welcome, Hob,” the man says, rewarding Hob with another smile. “Take good care of it.”

"I will," Hob says and the lie makes him slightly squirm with guilt. 

Hob is ready to go to the fucking party. He checks himself over in the mirror, adjusts his tie because the heavens forbid something’s out of place, and heads toward the living room to retrieve the plant. 

He grabs it and he’s about to turn around and go when his mind conjures up the image of the stranger’s face, of his small smiles, of the awe in his eyes as he looked at the bloody thing.

“This is ridiculous,” he mutters to himself but he ends up putting the horrid plant back on the windowsill.  

He has to stop to buy a fancy box of chocolates Ethel doesn’t deserve and ends up late to the party. 

When he gets back home, a little tipsy and a lot tired, he points to the cactus. “I hate you,” he says.

A shower and a sobering cup of tea later, the internet tells him his new plant needs well draining soil and scarce water. There’s also a consensus about the dangers of saucers that leads Hob to remove the paper plate he’s been using as such. 

“You’re going to get dirt all over the windowsill,” he tells the plant. 

The plant stares back at him in all of its spiny ugliness. 

Hob heaves a defeated sigh and goes to bed. 

#dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #fanfiction #dreamling bingo #my writing

[oriharaizaiza]

Masaomi snippets!

Masaomi is smart. Masaomi knows his limits. He's just not that good at navigating them, and unfortunately his 'lieutenant' weren't as smart or as careful. Though, to be fair, I would not be particularly surprised if all this understanding actually just comes from Izaya's info; though I still think Masaomi is smart either way.

Answering my own question from a few days ago; No, Masaomi did in fact not participate in the dollars meeting. He's also very good at self-blame, even for possibilities he didn't even have.

Masaomi and Mikado weren't actually very close?! But seeing how Mikado is described here, it sure seems that if anyone is to blame for him being such a thrill seeker, it has to be Masaomi, intriguing Mikado with his stories and probably the first to plant the idea of gangs into Mikado's head.

So things went south while Masaomi was gathering his good boy points huh... And then instead of seeking comfort with his old friend, he cut himself off, sepperation his life into two. I think this is very telling for who he is.

Masaomi is big flirt with little intent, and apparently that's how he always been. It's one of things I real let like about him. Of course he loves Saki, but his generally relaxed but not dismissive attitude to romance is kind of nice.

Masaomi and Saki are adorable! I don't know why people don't like them... I suppose it's because of Izaya being the origin of their relationship, but even if he was never involved in them meeting, look at how naturally they can match humor! Also Masaomi knowing flower language is such a Casanova thing.

And then of course... He meets Izaya. This is three years ago, so he's 13 and Izaya is 20. Izaya seems very excited to meet this odd ball of a boy, probably has been curiously observing for a while. I think this feeling of "prickling alienation" is probably the most accurate description of why most characters avoid Izaya even if they don't know him at all.

I just love this description of Izaya's smile. ... <3

Even though he cut himself out of the picture, Masaomi really kept up with the state of things the whole time, didn't he? I'm thinking he was probably one of the people Izaya buys info from ever since the Saki incident.

I also think it's kind of cute how attached he still is to the memories of his hometown, even though he considders himself part of Ikebukurou and is completely submerged in its culture.

#masaomi kida #kida masaomi #mikado ryuugamine #durarara!! #drrr!! #durarara #drrr #izaya orihara

[falkenbergfalkenberg87]

The Means To Spot Real Vs Fake Valentino Rockstud Pumps

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I all the time feel that the city of his household is still so bad that I need to lose it. It was just a hit, and it was taken with out hesitation. https://skel.io/valentino-replica.html This bag is super lovely, however watch out and watch out, as a result of it is not very wearable for lambskin. If you buy a replica bag tote and need to buy a multi-functional bag, but additionally need to look good, please select this, it is strongly recommended. Replica Valentino Bags, a brand that is crazy about school, has a great high quality, durable and good back. This bag was purchased in Hawaii last June within the university commencement season. At that time, a quantity of colours had been very like, and there have been cherry blossoms. When I purchased it, I tangled the colour for a protracted time. 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In the time since I first wrote this submit, Annie has sometimes sold OBVIOUSLY pretend 10 cm Rockstuds, a couple of of which have been purchased by members here and right here. wikipedia handbags I discussed this problem with one other consumer right here. The major distinction is the flap of leather-based along side the shoe -- in Annie's low quality reps of 10cm Rockstuds, the flap is far larger than in high quality reps and authentics. Handbag is an indispensable accessory in a woman’s world. It has the nice and cozy, boozy sweetness of brandy, syrupy tartness of the apple, and the nuttiness, wooden, and spice you look for in a scent like this. Nude Soleil, meaning Sun in French, is the gathering's standout. It is a heat, ambery scent that smells simply pretty much as good in a swimsuit because it does underneath the covers. It opens with pink peppercorn, cardamom, and ambrette. It provides approach to santal accord, rose absolute, and honeysuckle nectar.

#valentino replica #replica valentino bag #valentino bag replica #valentino bags replica #valentino garavani replica

[trulylino]

=> Gifts They Give You - BTS

Pairing: bts x gn!reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: just a collection of the little things that the bts members would do for you when they're in love with you.

Warnings: Christmas mentions

Masterlist

Jin

I mean we all know this man loves to cook. If he wanted to do something nice for you he would definitely tell you to dress up nice and meet him at his apartment. When you get there he's set up his table with a candle and proper set out cutlery and he's made the fanciest food he could think of making. The type of person to pretend to take your order despite being thirty years old but it's fine because he's so sweet while doing it. Would get fully pouty if you didn't immediately pepper him with kisses when you saw it because he just put in all this effort for you to not give him a peck on the nose?

Yoongi

He likes to buy you little packets of sweets. Him and the boys will have been out shooting and he'll have gone and found a shop somewhere just to make sure he had something to give to you. He tries to get you something different every time, just to make it feel exciting but he likes to get what he knows is your favourite. Loves to see your reaction as you squeal in delight trying to open the packet to try some. If you didn't let him try one he would hug you from behind as you attempt to keep the packet out of reach, but eventually you cave. Sugary kisses afterwards because your lips are coated in whatever treat he bought for you this time.

Jhope

He's a complete sucker for bath bombs. Anything hygiene related which has a nice scent, really. Don't let this man anywhere near Lush because he will walk out with whole bags of things for you. If he notices you've been stressed out recently from school or work the next day he'll make a special trip and buy you a bath bomb or something similar just so you relax properly and watch the fizzing colours dissolve. Sometimes he demands that he joins you, saying "I want to see the pretty colours too!" but really it's just an excuse to spend time with you. Despite knowing this, you don't really care as you love spending time with Hobi.

Namjoon

I hate to be stereotypical but he loves giving you books. Specifically books he's read and even put little notes into. You can't count the amount of small little sticky bookmarks are around your house because he's constantly marking his favourite parts or commenting on them. When you get around to reading it yourself you can follow his train of thought. He loves being able to discuss the book with you afterwards, questioning your own opinions on the bits he marked, eager to know if you enjoyed them as much as he did.

Jimin

While being quite silly in nature he really loves getting you practical gifts every now and then. It makes him feel useful. You make a passing comment over text about having to buy more coffee and he's over in an hour, coffee in hand, just the sort he knows you love. It got to the point where he was practically just doing your weekly shop for you with his small trips to the local corner shop. For your birthday or for Christmas he again likes to buy you useful things. You've been complaining for three months about your rice cooker not working well? Sorted. Loves to take care of you so much its actually unreal.

Taehyung

You cannot convince me this man isn't a flowers man. He'll show up at your door in the middle of the day with a bunch of flowers of the prettiest colours and all you can do about it is swoon and thank him with a kiss. Sometimes you'll get into work or school and just find your favourite flowers with a little card on it telling you that he loves you. It would melt his heart even more if you kept the petals and dried them to do something with as a reminder that he loves you. I don't think he would let a week go by without you having a fresh pair of flowers in a vase in your kitchen. Biggest simp in the universe.

Jungkook

I think that Kookie would melt at the idea of you wearing something that he made. Because that means only you have that thing and no one else does. He would definitely spend hours threading on beads onto thread for a bracelet for you or painting a canvas for your house. It just proves to him that you're his because you don't wear or hang up things which other people make for you. He honestly feels like the most special guy in the world when you have his homemade clay earrings through your ears and are smiling at him from across the room. Gets so sad when he sees you wearing a normal necklace or bracelet because why would you wear that when you could wear one that he made?

Taglist: @dreamescapeswriting @sparkyprotectionsquad @bang-me-chan

Credit: Header by @b-bunnykoo

#bts x reader #jin x reader #min yoongi x reader #jhope x reader #jung hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #v x reader #rm x reader #ot7 x reader #kpop fanfic #bts fanfic #bts #kpop imagine #kpop boys #kpop #jin #suga x reader #suga #jhope #kim namjoon #jimin #taehyung #v #jungkook #bts fluff #bts headcannons #bts cute

[muted-like-sunset]

Spark| Chapter 4

peeta mellark x fem! reader

masterlist

word count: 2.7k

trigger warnings: mentions of food/eating, shouting, vomit, knives, claustrophobia, paranoia, killing/death

(mostly) unedited and as always, all mistakes are my own.

She hears Peeta moving to help their mentor up but keeps her ears covered in case he isn’t done. A shiver runs up her spine. It’s okay, you’re okay. Its just vomit, you’re alright. The sound of him vomiting echoes in her ears and she pushes her palms against them harder, as though she could reach into her head and pull the sound out. Peeta moves him out of the room, loudly calling back something she can’t understand. 

Turning her face to the floor, she carefully opens her eyes. Okay, couch to the floor. Then just cross the room and leave. She’ll have to pass by the vomit, the thought reaches up and seizes her heart. You can do it, it’s just vomit. She’s quick, keeping on the balls of her feet as she scampers around the stuff and out of the compartment, making easily for her room. She shuts the door behind her, cursing the lack of a lock, and runs for the bathroom. Throwing that door shut as well, she turns on the shower, the sink, anything that will make noise. You won’t be able to hear it from here. Peeta’s probably cleaning him up now. 

She feels the train roll to a stop. Refueling, she assumes. She moves to the window and catches a glimpse of the platform. It’s dark out, the lights in the platform reflect off of the shiny metal side of the train. 

She thinks of her family back in Twelve, their curtains drawn tight to the windows. They’ll eat the remainder of the bakery bread and goats milk tonight, trying not to think of the weeks to come. She hopes they eat it without guilt, she has more than enough to eat here. She hopes that Asher will sleep peacefully and not be kept awake by the nightmares sure to visit him as the games progress. She hopes her parents are keeping an eye on him, on each other. Thinking of home makes a deep ache settle in her bones. How could it be that just this morning she had been trading with the baker? Buying goats milk from Primrose?

Thinking of the baker’s gift to her, she moves to the closet. There the package sits on top of Mama’s dress. She lifts both and brings them back to the bed. She lays her mother’s dress across her pillow and snuggles against it, opening the package. Three iced cookies, the kind Asher took her to see as a child, are within. They’re beautiful. Decorated to look like spring flowers. She wonders who at the bakery decorates the goods and makes a mental note to ask Peeta when she sees him next.

Thinking of him, she decides its been long enough. She’s calmed, she can go and check on them. She rises from her bed, shutting off the water and moving through the compartment in search of Peeta and Haymitch. 

She meets Peeta in the hall just as he’s closing Haymitch’s door. She hesitates, opening and shutting her mouth with no sound. Peeta turns, clearly not expecting her to be there. 

“Oh, hey. Are you okay?” He asks, voice gentle. She stares, confused as to why he’s concerned. Yes, she was afraid. Very much so, but it’s a sort of childish phobia. She nods.

He visibly eases a bit, nodding back to her. C’mon, Y/N. Check on them. 

“Sorry I kind of abandoned you two there.” She says instead, hands gripping on to her pants. “I guess it just freaked me out. Did you get him help?”

“Oh, I handled it. He’s sleeping.” He shrugs. He handled it? She stares at him, just nodding as though she expected it. Once again, Peeta Mellark is being nice. Too nice, even. For a moment, she wishes that he would be mean. That he would be less careful, less gentle with her. It would make the coming weeks easier if she didn’t feel herself worrying for him. 

As much as she hates to think it, she can feel herself starting to care for him. So much so that the idea of only one of them coming out of this rocks her to her core. But Asher, he needs me. Asher wouldn’t understand her sudden care for him, her want to keep him safe as well. He’s counting on his little sister coming home and she can’t bear the thought of crushing him like that. I want to go home.

The thought brings tears to her eyes, though she’s quick to bat them away. Peeta, though, seems to see through her. He reaches out a bit, leaving his hand in mid air. The invite is there, but she turns from him. He isn’t who she wants, what she wants. She turns her back on him, rushing back through the hall to find her room. The door shuts and she collapses to the bed, letting the sobs overtake her. Soon enough, the train is moving again and she resigns to let the rocking move her to sleep. Hopefully, she’ll wake in her bed in Twelve and it will have been a nightmare. 

Knocking at the door rouses her from her sleep, still on the train. 

“Up, up, up!” Comes Effie Trinket’s shrill voice. “It’s going to be a big, big, big day!” She groans quietly, lifting her face from where it was crushed against her Mama’s dress. Surely there are lines across her face to show it. She groans again when she realizes she’s in yesterday’s clothing, mockingjay pin still somehow secured to her nightgown. 

“Coming!” She calls through the door, rubbing the sleep from her tired eyes. She rolls to sit up on the side of the bed, brushing her fingers through her hair. After pausing for a moment to consider changing, she makes her way to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Her clothes aren’t dirty, aside from being slept in, so she decides they’ll do well enough. Besides, it won’t be long before they reach the Capital. There, she’ll be placed into the hands of her prep team and then her stylist. It doesn’t matter what she wears this morning. 

When she reaches the dining car, Effie is passing by with a steaming cup of black coffee. Haymitch, having mostly recovered from the previous day, sits at the table with a blushing Peeta. 

“Sit down! Sit down!” Haymitch beckons, gesturing for her to join them. She seats herself in the chair beside Peeta again and quickly is served her breakfast. The plate is piled high with ham, eggs, and fried potatoes. There's a dish of chilled fruit sitting in the middle of the table next to a basket of rolls. A tall, elegant glass of what she can only assume to be orange juice sits next to her plate alongside a small cup of black coffee. Her parents bought she and Asher a pair of oranges one winter as a treat, since they weren’t easily afforded. She remembers the sharp tangy taste well and smiles at the flavor of the juice. The coffee is less so her style, something that her parents both adore but can rarely be bought. Turning to Peeta, she sees him dunking his bread into a mug of something else thicker than the coffee. 

“They call it hot chocolate.” Peeta grins, pushing another cup her way. She takes it easily from him, basking in the warmth rushing to meet her hands. “It’s good.”

She takes a careful sip of the stuff, humming when it hits her tongue. It’s thick and sweet, luxurious even. She disregards the rest of her meal for the stuff, sipping it carefully until her cup is empty. Then, She tucks into the food, eating every bite she’s sure she can handle without getting sick. Then it’s back to sipping her orange juice, quietly admiring the rest of the table. Peeta continues to dunk small chunks of bread into his hot chocolate. Haymitch is drinking some red liquid that smells strongly of spirits and she realizes he’ll be drunk again before they reach the Capital.

Something about this realization brings her to another; she detests Haymitch Abernathy. It’s no wonder district Twelve never has any winners, they all have to go through Haymitch. Even with some kind of talent or skill, having him as their only route to sponsors is a death sentence. To think that he knows exactly what they’re going through and would rather get too drunk to remember it when the games are over than help them makes unfamiliar anger rise within her. 

“So,” she begins before she can stop herself. “You’re supposed to give us advice.”

“Easy, stay alive.” Haymitch replies, never taking his eyes off of his glass. He chuckles a bit, pouring more of the liquor into his glass. She grits her teeth, glancing to gauge Peeta’s reaction to the mess. 

She’s surprised to find his gaze on their mentor hard, he’s typically so mild. She briefly recalls his gentle hand at her back when they watched the reruns last night. His soft words when they met in the hallway after he cleaned Haymitch up. That boy seems long forgotten as she looks at him now, hardened and angry. 

“Very funny,” He says before lashing out, shoving the glass from Haymitch’s raised hand. “Just not to us.”

Haymitch considers his spilled drink for a second before standing. He looms over Peeta for just an instant before punching him square in the jaw and sending him to the floor. The man is drunk, but he is still a victor. Still, the anger flares in her again and, when he reaches back for the bottle of liquor, she grabs her knife and drives it into the table between his hand and the bottle. She glares up at him, keeping an eye on his hands in case he moves for her. Instead, the older man seems in thought, deciding to sit back in his chair. She releases the knife, setting her eyes on where Peeta rises from the floor. 

“Well what do we have here? I actually get a couple fighters this year?” He asks, but she disregards him. She scoops up a handful of ice from the fruit dish and moves to get it to Peeta. “Don’t.”

She shoots him a look, turning back on him like she could be some kind of threat. Her knife is abandoned where it was stuck into the wood and all she has is a handful of ice, what kind of danger could she be? 

“Let it bruise, the audience will think you’ve gotten in a fight with some other tribute.” He says simply, eyeing the two of them. 

“Isn’t that against the rules?” She barks at him, standing between the two. 

“Only if they catch you. The bruise will say he fought and wasn’t caught, even better.” She watches Peeta for some kind of sign and, when he nods to her, she drops the ice back into the dish. Peeta sits back in his chair and she remains standing, not wanting Haymitch to be able to get the upper hand should things escalate again. “Can you hit anything with that knife besides a table?”

There were a few times in the woods where she had used a knife, but never for anything more than putting some snared animal out of its misery. She hated killing them, instead choosing to focus on her snares and traps. She’d perfected them to the point that she often found the game dead, neck snapped from her careful setting. Though sometimes after Katniss or Gale shoots an animal, it’s better for the group to hit it with a knife before they approach. Realizing her chance to impress her mentor, she pulls the knife free from its place. She grips the blade between her fingers and picks a point in the room for her aim. Catching sight of a strange painting on the wall, she makes it her target. 

Though she was mostly hoping it wouldn’t bounce off and embarrass her, she manages to stick it directly in the center of the forehead of the woman in the painting. There's something brutal about it that makes her turn away. 

He huffs a laugh before relaxing back in his chair once again. “Well, I suppose you two aren’t entirely hopeless. Seem fit, and once the stylists get a hold of you you’ll be attractive enough.” The dig resonates somewhere in her and she scowls at the older man. Like you have room to talk about attractive. 

Still, she and Peeta say nothing. The Hunger Games have always seemed a sort of beauty contest. The most attractive tributes do score sponsors. 

“I’ll make you a deal. You stay out of my drinking and I’ll stay sober enough to guide you.” He says, eyeing the two. “But you have to do exactly what I say.” 

“Fine.” Peeta agrees quickly, making her shoot him a look. So much for any negotiation. Their mentor looks to her for approval and she sighs. 

“So help us.” She demands, setting a hand on her hip. “When we get in to the arena, what’s the best way to get supplies from-”

“One thing at a time.” He interrupts, putting a hand up to stop her. She angers again, feeling her face heat. “In just a few minutes you’ll be in the hands of the prep teams. Let them do whatever they want. You won’t like it, but let it happen.”

She stills at this, a quiet fear roaring up inside of her. The prep teams, the stylists. All there to make her look pretty before they send her off to die. She opens her mouth to protest but Haymitch is out of his seat and taking his bottle with him. He exits the car quickly, leaving the two alone. 

It’s dark in the car, almost as though it is still night. She realizes they must be in a tunnel, must be close to the Capital. The Capital is separated from the eastern districts by mountains, once called the Rocky Mountains. The mountains serve as a natural barrier of protection for the Capital and were a major geographic advantage in the dark days.

The thought is quickly interrupted by the dawning realization of the sheer amount of rock between her and the sky. She feels the claustrophobia she saw in her father in the months after the accident and can’t help but imagine the mountains crumbling down, crushing her. Trapping her body in the inky darkness that swallowed so many on her father’s shift. Then, light fills the car once more.

 Curiosity drives the pair to the windows where they take in the massive city. The buildings are massive, soaring up into the sky far above their heads. Shiny cars and clean streets greet them as they gawk out of the windows. Peeta is the first to catch sight of the Capital people, nudging her gently and pointing. They’re just like their escort and not at all at the same time. They’re all brightly colored, with wigs and funny clothing. All of the colors are hard on the eyes, but she can’t bring herself to look away. If she squints, the blurring colors could be like her meadow back home filled with flowers in the spring. 

The people begin pointing, shouting what can only be their names. She shies back, moving away from the window and retreating further into the car. 

Peeta catches this, reaching his hand back to her. He’s glancing out of the window for a moment before looking eagerly back to her. “Come on!” He encourages. Still she keeps her distance. He looks back, waving and smiling at the crowd. 

“Who knows, one of them may be rich.” He laughs, backing away from the window once they’ve pulled into the station. She stills, eyeing him warily. 

Perhaps she had misunderstood his kind gestures. The way he had squeezed her hand on stage during the reaping. The cookies from his father. His gentle touch and caring looks. This entire time while she’d been playing the school girl with a crush, Peeta had already been playing the games. He’d drawn her in like a spider, spinning her beautiful ensnaring webs. She’d been tricked by the shimmering dew. 

He was already trying hard to kill her. 

#Peeta #Peeta Mellark #THG Peeta #peeta x reader #peeta mellark angst #the hunger games peeta #The Hunger Games #hunger games rewrite

[oro-e-diamanti]

The one where Ethan is pretending

Description | When you bump into Ethan in Paris, you fail to mention that you know exactly who he is. You’re not sure how long you’ll be able to keep it up when he asks you out for a drink.

Content | Fluff

Pairing | Ethan x gn!Reader (with the exception of one female pet name)

Word Count | 2071

Taglist | @ginny-lily @ethaneskin @tabi-toast @mywritingonlyfans

***

There was no way you were staying in the same place that Måneskin had just arrived at. There was no way, you kept telling yourself. Paris was a massive city, the number of available hotels in the hundreds, maybe thousands if you had to guess. And yet, somehow, you had managed to pick the one place one of your new favourite obsessions would spend their time. You knew it didn't mean much, the hotel had more than a couple of rooms and with your luck, you wouldn't even catch a glimpse of them. But as you kept scrolling through Instagram, seeing pictures of people meeting the four Italians in front of the place you had checked into mere days ago, you couldn't fight a little bubble of excitement forming in your chest.

Well, you told yourself you wouldn't get your hopes up. And you definitely wouldn't hang around in front of the hotel or in the lobby. You had booked your solo trip to Paris months ago, after dreaming about visiting the city for most of your life, and you would be damned if you wouldn't stick to your itinerary and enjoy your holiday. However - you had gotten up at what felt like dawn to go queue up for the Louvre and spent the last couple of hours there, so you decided that a nap was the way to go if you wanted to continue exploring the city in the evening. Fortunately, the walk back to the hotel wasn't long.

You had made it to the last corner before entering the street you were aiming for, when two giggling girls ran past you, unceremoniously bumping your shoulder and sending you tumbling. You were fully expecting to hit the ground, but instead, a pair of strong arms caught you and brought you back to your feet. A pair of strong arms belonging to a strong chest that you came face-to-face with, belonging to a gorgeous face, belonging to Ethan Torchio.

"Tu vas bien?" His broad French accent confused you, momentarily forgetting about the little detail that you were, in fact, in France, as you stared at the drummer in front of you, who was still protectively holding onto your upper arms.

"Huh?" Was the immensely intelligent answer that thus left your mouth.

"Oh, not French?"

"No, definitely not French." You finally said, taking a step back from him to avoid the increasing awkwardness you were feeling about being touched by him, while the two girls who had previously knocked you down were now lingering around the two of you suspiciously, not coming close enough to be rude, but obviously desperate to get their own piece of Ethan. "No, just a tourist."

"Me too," Ethan smiled. "A tourist, I mean. Well, kind of. I'm here with my band so it's not like we have time to do a lot of sightseeing."

He briefly turned around to look at the two girls who still seemed frustrated at you hogging his time and gave a small wave before turning back to you. It was the movement that made you realise he had the most gorgeous red rose tucked into the waistband of his trousers. Well, it used to be the most gorgeous rose - after your little crash, it had bent in the middle, the top hanging only by a thread, in the most miserable fashion.

"Oh, no I am so sorry!" You gasped, carefully grasping the delicate petals that were on the verge of breaking off. "I must have crashed into it when you caught me."

"Don't worry about it," Ethan said, softly, and pulled the stem from his waistband. The flower looked even more tragic now, in all its crushed glory. "A fan gave it to me a few minutes ago."

"Huh?" You surely proved yourself articulate in this conversation. You mentally hit yourself, angry at yourself for being so easily flustered.

"There are a few fans waiting in front of our hotel, because we're in a ... band ... and things."

Apparently, your awkwardness was contagious. Also, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Ethan thought that you had no idea who he was.

"Let me get you a new one," you suggested. "There's a flower shop just two doors down from the hotel - I mean, I am staying there, too, so I know."

He smiled at you with a serenity and calmness that had your heart soaring. You decided you'd be willing to buy him a million roses if only he kept smiling at you like that for a little longer.

"Well, I've got to go now, but it would be rude to refuse your offer. Meet you in the bar of the hotel at 8 tonight?"

No way this was happening. You almost gasped, but at the last moment managed to keep your cool, outwardly. On the inside, you were a mess. Bumping into the drummer of one of your favourite bands was a wonderful chance meeting as it was - but this almost sounded like a date. Now, of course, Ethan wouldn't be asking you out on a date. That would be ridiculous. But there was also no way you would miss out on a chance to meet him again. Preferably without those two giggling girls that were still standing behind him, watching every move of your interaction but luckily too far away to hear what you were saying.

"It's a d- uh, deal," you quickly recovered before almost spitting out the word date instead. Ethan chuckled.

"Right, see you later, then, for our... deal."

He had seen right through you anyway, you thought. But he was still laughing, so it wasn't all that bad - right?

With another quick touch to your upper arm, Ethan walked past you, turning around just one last time.

"My name is Ethan, by the way. You can tell me yours tonight."

Oh, you would.

***

The rest of the day was... well, restless. You couldn't nap because your mind was a whirlwind and your stomach was twisting with excitement. So instead, you had made sure to get the prettiest red rose you could find in the flower shop down the street - while slightly wincing at the price that a shop in the center of the city of love demanded - and put it in a glass the hotel receptionist had been nice to give to you. Then you had decided that there was no way you would manage to relax before 8, so you allowed yourself a few hours simply wandering through the city, no real destination, no itinerary for once, just a nice long stroll with nothing but your thoughts.

At five past eight - being slightly late was still cool, right? - you did a quick check-up in the mirror, realised you were not going to get any happier with your appearance whatever you tried to do at this point, grabbed the rose from its makeshift vase, and left your room.

It only took you a second to see him when you entered the little bar on the ground floor of the hotel. Even in the dim light, the white blouse that he had already been wearing when you met for the first time stood out like a sore thumb. Long dark hair fell over his back in a silky fashion. You had never wanted to touch anyone's hair more.

You took one more deep breath and then walked over to Ethan, smile on your face and rose in your hand.

"A rose for the handsome gentleman?"

Ethan almost jumped, apparently not having heard you coming, but quickly a smirk spread over his face while he stood up.

"I'll take the rose and your name, then."

"It's Y/n."

Ethan greeted you with a soft kiss to your cheek, before taking the rose, pulling your chair back, and inviting you to sit. It was almost ridiculously romantic and if it had been anyone else it would have seemed over-the-top and off-putting, but with Ethan it seemed sincere and fitting.

"Glass of wine, Y/n?" He asked as he casually waved the waiter over to your table.

"Just one. I want to get up early tomorrow for some more sightseeing."

***

It didn't end up being just one glass. It ended up another one and then a bottle shared. But it also ended up with three hours of talking, laughing, teasing, and slowly moving your chairs closer together until you were basically sitting on the same side of the table. You had asked him about his band - still trying to cover up that you knew exactly who they were out of pure fear that he'd reject you for being a fan - and he has asked about your job, your life, your family. In fact, you only left the bar when the waiter had started throwing you annoyed looks while demonstratively cleaning the tables around you.

"I'll bring you to your room," Ethan chuckled lightly as you waited for the elevator. His hand was on the small of your back and it was spreading tingles all through your body. You were standing close enough that you could smell his perfume, a light yet musky scent that encapsulated everything about him.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, he lightly pushed you inside and you found yourself not minding him leading you like this. You pressed the button for your floor, leaning against the wall as you studied the man in front of you. He was a thing of beauty, no question about it, and when he smiled down at you the way he was right then and there, he made you feel like one, too.

"I had a lovely evening, Y/n. Is there any chance I could get your number?"

What a question, you thought to yourself. You'd be mad to refuse him!

You dug your phone out of your cluttered bag. You had switched numbers just a few weeks ago and had not yet learned the new digits by heart. Quickly, you switched it on - and your heart sank. Oh crap. You had completely forgotten about this.

The lockscreen of your phone was a picture of Måneskin.

As you looked up, you realized Ethan had seen. And, contrarily to the reaction that you were anticipating, he was wearing a massive grin.

"Ethan, I am so sorry, I should have told you immediately when we met but I kind of just stumbled into this and you were explaining you were in a band and I didn't know how to say-"

"Dolcezza, calm down. I've known all along."

"Wait - what?"

He didn't explain. Instead, he pointed to your bag - your tote bag - your Måneskin tote bag.

You truly felt like the least intelligent life form on earth.

"I've been carrying that around all day, haven't I?"

While your embarrassment grew, face heating up, Ethan grabbed your shoulders and pulled you into his body. His arms tightly wrapped around your body and you could feel his giggles in his chest, as your head was pressed against it. You didn't hesitate in reciprocating, clinging onto his torso, slowly swinging from side to side. Both of you caught in a tipsy stupor.

You only stopped when the elevator arrived at your floor, both of you stumbling out and dragging each other to your door while clinging on. When you reached your room, you let your back lean against it, pulling Ethan along so you were standing face to face, smiling at each other shily and yet never breaking eye contact.

"Why didn't you say anything?" You finally asked. He stroked your cheek, leaving goosebumps. He had now gotten so close that you could feel his breath on your, drowning in each other.

"I liked pretending."

And then he kissed you. Boldly, unafraid and passionate. You melted like putty under him, letting him take control while letting yourself fall, as his lips moved against yours.

You only pulled away enough to get another glance at him, before once again searching your bag, now one-handed, so you never quite had to let go of him. A small triumphant sound escaped you as you located the key card. Holding it up next to your face, you shot the man in front of you another smirk.

"Why don't we keep pretending? At least for tonight."

It wasn't an offer he was going to refuse.

#ethan torchio #maneskin #ethan torchio imagine #ethan torchio fiction #ethan tochio x you #ethan torchio x reader #maneskin imagine #maneskin fiction #fluff #my writings

[five-rivers]

Beltane

Written for Ectober 2021 Day 1: Trick vs Treat. This is part of the Exhumed series.

.

Danny Fenton walked into the precinct. As often happened when he did this, all attention slowly turned to him. “Hi, Detective Patterson. Have you ever heard of Beltane?”

Patterson took a long swig of coffee through the plastic stir straw, because she felt the need to be at least a little drugged before dealing with whatever this was, and then said, “Is this the kind of thing the whole precinct needs to know about, or is it more specific to me?”

“Mm, not specific to you, but I’m not sure if everyone needs to know about it, yet.”

Despite only select members of the Amity Park police force knowing Danny Fenton had another identity, he’d become a sort of ‘ghost liaison’ for the precinct. Better him than the adult Fentons, who tended to break things even (especially) when they were being careful.

“Actually,” continued Danny, “you might have already noticed some things about it. I mean, it’s seasonal, and Mom and Dad were detecting ectoenergy and ghost activity spikes for events like this before they got the portal up and running. Although, the portal was supposed to stabilize and reduce those spikes… I guess reducing one isn’t bad?”

“Okay,” said Patterson. “I don’t really know what you’re talking about. Do you want me to go find Collins?”

“Oh, that might be a good idea.”

“Great,” said Patterson. She turned her head to shout across the room. “McGee. Go find Collins.”

“Still the new guy?” asked Danny, sympathetically.

“It isn’t like we’re a popular posting,” said Patterson, “and, thanks to the ghosts, we don’t really need new people.”

Danny nodded placidly. “I know. But it must be hard for him, don’t you think?”

.

McGee had done his job. He’d discovered the corruption in the Amity Park Police Department and plumbed its depths. The problem was that he could never, ever, report it. Even if they didn’t have a perfectly good cause for it all, what they were ‘hiding’ (and they were only barely doing that) was so ridiculous that McGee had thought he’d gone crazy at first.

Ghosts.

The whole of Amity Park was haunted. Just like it said in those touristy brochures at the front of the local diners.

He stuck his head into the break room. “Collins, Patterson and Fenton want you,” he said.

“In the normal room?” Collins asked, shoving a sugary monstrosity of a donut into his mouth.

“I have no idea. She didn’t say.”

“Normal room then. Great job, McGee.”

McGee rolled his eyes. Great job, he said. As if he’d done anything.

God. What would Halloween be like?

.

“So, it’s like, reverse Halloween?” asked Patterson.

“Well, not exactly,” said Danny. He patted Daisy, the department mascot slash corpse sniffing dog who had followed them into the small interview room, gently on the head. “Actually, there are more similarities than differences. Basically, like Halloween, we’re going to get a spike in ectoenergy. Maybe even some ectoplasmic storms. More portals. That kind of thing.” He shrugged. “Most holidays and seasonal divisions have them, you know.”

“So… we’re getting Halloween round two?” asked Collins.

“What do you bet that this is what gets McGee to snap?”

“He’s been here since December,” said Collins. “I think he’s too stubborn to leave.”

“Is he still spying?” asked Danny.

“No,” said Patterson, waving a hand. “He gave up on that, after a while. But there’s a new office bet about whether or not he’ll stay stay, or if he’ll decide to quit. We’re not allowed to join in because we know him too well.”

“Mm,” said Danny.

“I don’t actually know if I feel like I know him that well,” said Collins.

“Well,” said Danny, “it shouldn’t be as extreme as Halloween. Since, I mean, there aren’t as many religious holidays directly associated with death and stuff happening on or around May first. So. Yeah. But the thing is, there are some traditional, er, activities. Spirited activities.”

Collins suppressed a groan, and was glad that Captain Jones wasn’t available today. He and Danny could sling puns at each other for obscenely long periods of time.

“I’ve never noticed ghosts doing anything on May Day,” said Patterson.

“This is only the third year anyone’s even acknowledged that ghosts exist,” said Danny, “so I’m not really all that surprised. But the reason that I came to talk to you guys is that some of the ghosts want to do Beltane stuff. Like the fire blessings. Also, I’ve been told that some of the trees in town are secretly ghost trees, and if we don’t want to deal with another tree army, we need to do some stuff to appease them.”

“Secret ghost trees.”

“My source is very reliable,” said Danny. “Also, while I say ‘we don’t want to deal with it,’ I think we all know who’d be dealing with most of it.”

“You would,” said Patterson.

“Got it in one. Like, I can convince most of the ghosts to either do their Beltane stuff in the Ghost Zone, or somewhere out of the way. They’ll be disappointed, but I can do it. The ghost tree thing, though…”

“Can’t we just, I don’t know,” said Collins, “get rid of the ghost trees?”

“Well, they aren’t really evil ghost trees. Or even really ghost trees. They’re more… ghosts that live in trees?”

“What, like dryads?” asked Collins, raising his eyebrows.

“That’s what I said, but they’re different species, apparently.”

“Okay,” said Patterson, “so. Appeasing the trees. How many trees are we talking about here, and how are we going to appease them?”

.

“Okay, so, this is definitely a whole precinct kind of thing,” said Patterson.

“And possibly an ‘all civil servants’ type of thing,” added Collins. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Where are we going to get the funding for this?”

“Oh, don’t worry about money,” said Danny. “I’ll just blackmail Vlad, and if that doesn’t work, I can get Mom and Dad to pay for it.”

“What,” said Collins.

“I think this might be a bit beyond your parents’ budget,” said Patterson, “but knock yourself out as far as Masters goes.”

“Well, I guess if it is,” he allowed, dubiously, “I could get the cults to pitch in?”

.

“This is nice,” said Danny. The sky was a bit overcast, which was a shame, but the hundreds of bright flowers and cheerful music more than made up for that.

The May Day celebration was, in Danny’s opinion, a success. At least, this half of it was turning out to be. He’d have to wait and see how the Spirit Bonfires went tonight before he could really make a judgement.

He’d only had to blackmail Vlad a little, too. It turned out that the ‘ruthless businessman’ in Vlad was ludicrously easy to manipulate, and once Danny brought up how a celebration like this one could revitalize local businesses and bring in tourism, he’d caved.

Although, that might have been the threat of an angry tree army. Vlad had definitely come off worse for wear in the last one, on all fronts.

Then, publically putting the Phantom Stamp of Approval (and Necessity Given The Potential Angry Tree Army) on the event had gotten buy-in from his fans and (sigh) the cults. The cults were, in fact, very enthusiastic about their new Holy Day. Danny had made a map of all the places they’d set up booths, and was studiously avoiding them.

Sam and Tucker were doing a walkthrough of that area, now, to check for problems and unadorned thorn trees. They’d arranged to meet up soon.

So, Amity Park was decked out in ribbons and flowers. All of the schools had gotten Maypoles and the day off of classes. Several bands, both human and ghostly, were playing in different parts of town.

It was chaotic, but great.

Danny briefly cut into the street to dodge a pair of college-age men play-fighting with tree branches (a genuinely important tradition symbolizing the battle between winter and summer), then walked through a wall to avoid two ghosts doing the same thing.

Finally, he reached Madame Babazita’s table.

“Hi,” he said, “three readings, please.”

“Three?” she asked. “Just for you?”

“My friends should get here before mine’s done,” said Danny. Was he channeling some predictive powers? Maybe. Holidays did make his powers weird.

.

“I have no idea what your reading is saying,” said Madame Babazita, after fifteen full minutes. “The cards simply aren’t speaking to me today. Also,” she held up an Uno card, “I’m not sure how this even got here.”

“That’s okay,” said Danny, “I just wanted to make sure it was the same as last time.”

.

“Hey! Phantom!” called Ember across the crowd of ghosts that had gathered in the cemetery. Most of them were fire or nature themed. “You’re in for a treat!”

Danny, who had been examining the flowers left on his grave, looked up. “I am?”

Ember draped her arm around Danny’s shoulder. She’d been a lot more friendly with him since the corpse incident. “Sure are.” She stepped up onto the surface of his memorial, pulling him up behind her. Danny shook off a brief chill and looked around.

Ghosts were streaming into the cemetery from various directions, bringing armfuls of flowers with them. Danny could see two, huge bonfire piles of flowers growing near the cemetery gates.

“Are there going to be cows?” asked Danny, who was still fuzzy on the details of the ghostly side of the celebrations.

“I don’t know,” said Ember. “When I’ve seen this done in the GZ there are. Here? Who knows. Maybe we’ll just walk through.”

Danny nodded, unworried. Beltane sure was an interesting holiday.

The last armful of flowers was placed, and every flower in the cemetery caught on fire at once. Including the ones on Danny’s grave. Danny yelped, jumping into flight. As an ice core ghost, he vastly preferred cold to heat.

This went without saying, but fire was very hot.

Ember grabbed his foot, and he almost kicked her. “You knew that was going to happen,” he accused.

“Sure did, babypop,” said Ember, grinning. “Come on, don’t you want to pass through the bonfires?”

Danny eyed the very large bonfires on either side of the cemetery gates. They were lit up with sparks like fireworks, shifting like flowers blooming and withering and blooming again. They were beautiful and impressive, and Danny felt like melting just by looking at them.

“I don’t know…” He wanted to, but… melting…

“Well, if you want to go out the other way and be horribly unlucky for the next year…”

Danny narrowed his eyes. “Is that another trick?” he asked.

Ember’s grin grew wider, and she took off towards the gates. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Danny sighed and followed her.

.

“Unbelievable,” said McGee. “Absolutely unbelievable.” He gave the elderly cultist a boost into the wagon.

“I know, right?” said Patterson. “All this property damage and a low-key kidnapping,” she gestured to the hapless late night partier who had called the police when the cult got too insistent about their message, “and they didn’t even have the good drugs?” She shook her head. “Not that we ever arrest anyone just for drugs in this town.”

“I did not just hear you say that,” muttered McGee.

“We’ll make an Amity Parker out of you yet,” said Collins, heartily, slamming the back door of the wagon. He thumbed the button on his radio. “Any other disturbances?” he asked.

“No, you’re good to come back,” said the dispatcher.

“What I don’t get,” said McGee, leaning against a nearby wall in a moment of weakness, “is why we aren’t breaking up whatever cult thing is happening in the cemetery.” They’d seen it quite clearly on their way here.

“Because those are ghosts,” said Patterson.

McGee took a deep breath. “The ghosts are having some kind of ritual in the cemetery, and you aren’t worried.”

“Not really, no.”

“I hate it here,” said McGee.

“Do you, though?” asked Collins, sounding genuinely interested in the answer.

McGee opened his mouth to snap back that, yes, he did. But…

Hm. Huh.

Collins patted him on the back.

#danny phantom #ectober #ectober 2021 #ectoberhaunt 2021 #ectoberhaunt trick #ectoberhaunt treat #ectoberhaunt day 1: trick vs treat #fic #fanfic #exhumed

[causeiwanttoandican]

Harry, Meghan and me: my truth as a royal reporter

I've covered elections and extremism, but nothing compares to the vitriol I've received since I started writing about the Sussexes

By Camilla Tominey, Associate Editor27 March 2021 • 6:00am

It is probably worth mentioning from the outset that I never, ever, planned to become a royal reporter. I mean, who does? It’s one of those ridiculous jobs most people fall into completely by accident.

I certainly wasn’t coveting the position when I first found out how bonkers the beat could be after covering Charles and Camilla’s wedding in 2005. Desperate for ‘a line’ on what went on at the reception, journalists were reduced to flagging down passing cars in Windsor High Street and interrogating the likes of Stephen Fry about whether they’d had the salmon or the chicken.

Watergate, this wasn’t.

Yet when my former editor called me into his office shortly afterwards and offered me the royal job ‘because you’re called Camilla and you dress nicely’, who was I to refuse?

Having planned to get married myself that summer, and start a family soon afterwards, I looked to the likes of Jennie Bond and Penny Junor and figured it would be a good patch for a working mother as well as being one I could grow old with. Unlike show business, when celebrities are ‘in’ one minute and ‘out’ the next, the royals would stay the same, making it easier to build – and keep – contacts.

So if you’d told me that 16 years later, I would find myself at the centre of a media storm over a royal interview with Oprah Winfrey, I’d have probably laughed in your face. First of all, only royals like Fergie do interviews with Oprah. And since when did journalists become the story?

Yet as I have experienced since the arrival of Meghan Markle on the royal scene in 2016 – a move that roughly coincided with Twitter doubling its 140-character limitation to 280 – royal reporters like me now find themselves in the line of fire like never before.

We are used to the likes of Kate Adie coming under attack in the Middle East, but now it is the correspondents who write up events like Trooping the Colour and the Royal Windsor Horse Show having to take cover from the keyboard warriors supposedly defending the Duke and Duchess of Sussex’s ‘truth’.

Accusations of racism have long been levelled against anyone who has dared to write less than undiluted praise of Harry and Meghan. But even I have been taken aback by the vitriol on social media in the wake of the couple’s televised two-hour talk-a-thon, in which they branded both the Royal family and the British press racist while complaining about their ‘almost unsurvivable’ multimillionaire lives at the hands of the evil monarchy. And all while the rest of the UK were losing their loved ones and livelihoods in a global pandemic.

Having covered Brexit, general elections and stories about Islamic extremism, I’ve grown used to being sprayed with viral vomit on a fairly regular basis, but when you’ve got complete strangers trolling your best friend’s Instagram feed by association? That’s Britney Spears levels of toxic.

Having a hind thicker than a rhino’s, it wasn’t the repeated references to my being ‘a total c—’ that particularly bothered me, nor even the suggestion that I should have my three children put up for adoption. At one point someone even said it would be a good idea for me to drink myself to death like my mother, about whose chronic alcoholism I have written extensively.

No, what really got me was the appalling spelling and grammar. I mean, if you’re going to hurl insults, at least have the decency to get my name right.

Yet in order to understand just how it has come to pass that so-called #SussexSquaders think nothing of branding all royal correspondents ‘white supremacists’ regardless of who they write for, or sending hate mail to our email addresses, offices – and in some cases, even our homes – it’s worth briefly going to back to when I first broke the story that Prince Harry was dating an American actor in the Sunday Express on 31 October 2016. Headlined: ‘Royal world exclusive: Harry’s secret romance with TV star’, the splash revealed how the popular prince was ‘secretly dating a stunning US actress, model and human rights campaigner’.

Despite my now apparently being on a par with the Ku Klux Klan for failing to acknowledge Meghan as the next messiah, it was actually not until the fifteenth paragraph of that original article that the ‘confident and intelligent’ Northwestern University graduate was described as ‘the daughter of an African-American mother and a father of Dutch and Irish descent’.

Call me superficial, but I was genuinely far more interested in the fact that Harry ‘I-come-with-baggage’ Wales was dating a former ‘briefcase girl’ from the US version of Deal or No Deal than the colour of her skin. A ginger prince punching well above his weight? This was the stuff of tabloid dreams. Little did I know then that covering the trials and tribulations of these two lovebirds would turn into such a nightmare.

The online hostility began bubbling up about eight days after that first story, when Harry’s then communications secretary Jason Knauf issued an ‘unprecedented’ statement accusing the media of ‘crossing a line’.

‘His girlfriend, Meghan Markle, has been subject to a wave of abuse and harassment’, it read, referencing a ‘smear on the front page of a national newspaper; the racial undertones of comment pieces; and the outright sexism and racism of social media trolls and web article comments’. Meghan’s mother, Doria Ragland, had apparently been besieged by photographers, while bribes had been offered to Meghan’s ex-boyfriend along with ‘the bombardment of nearly every friend, coworker, and loved one in her life’.

Suffice to say, I did feel a bit guilty. Although I hadn’t written anything remotely racist or sexist, I had started the ball rolling for headlines like the MailOnline’s ‘(Almost) straight outta Compton’ (referencing a song by hip-hop group NWA about gang violence and Meghan’s upbringing in the nearby LA district of Crenshaw), along with her ‘exotic’ DNA (which I subsequently called out, including on This Morning in the wake of ‘Megxit’ in January last year).

Omid Scobie, co-author of Finding Freedom, a highly favourable account of the Sussexes’ departure from the Royal family, written with their cooperation last summer, would later insist that the couple knew the story of their relationship was coming out and were well prepared for it.

I can tell you categorically that they weren’t, since I did not even put a call into Kensington Palace before we went to press for fear of it being leaked. (I did later discuss this with Harry, when I covered his trip to the Caribbean in November 2016, and to be fair he was pretty philosophical, agreeing it would have come out sooner or later. But that was before the former Army Captain decided to well and truly shoot the messenger, latterly telling journalists covering the newly-weds’ tax-payer-funded October 2018 tour of Australia and the south Pacific: ‘Thanks for coming, even though you weren’t invited.’)

The royal press pack is the group of dedicated writers who cover all the official engagements and tours on a rota system, in exchange for not bothering the royals as they go about their private business. It was a shame this ragtag bunch, of which I am an associate member, was never personally introduced to Meghan when the couple got engaged in November 2017.

I still have fond memories of a then Kate Middleton, upon her engagement to Prince William in November 2010, showing me her huge sapphire and diamond ring following a press conference at St James’s Palace with the words, ‘It was William’s mother’s so it is very special.’

I replied that she might want to consider buying ‘one of those expanding accordion style file holders’ to organise all her wedding paperwork. (Reader, I had given birth to my second child less than four months earlier and was still lactating.)

Not meeting Meghan did not stop royal commentators like me writing reams about her being ‘a breath of fresh air’ and telling practically every TV show I appeared on that she was the ‘best thing to have happened to the Royal Family in years’.

As the world followed the joyous news of the Windsors’ resident strip billiards star having finally found ‘the one’, the couple enjoyed overwhelmingly positive press culminating in their fairy-tale wedding in May 2018, which we headlined ‘So in love’ above a picture of the bride and groom kissing. I tweeted the wedding front page, along with the original story breaking the news of their relationship with the words, ‘Job done’. Yet, as Meghan would later point out in a glossy Santa Barbara garden, that was by far the end of the story.

According to the Duchess’s testimony before a global audience of millions, the seeds for their royal departure were actually sown by an article I wrote in November 2018 suggesting she made Kate cry during a bridesmaid’s dress fitting for Princess Charlotte.

Claiming the ‘reverse happened’, the former Suits star railed, ‘A few days before the wedding she was upset about something, pertaining to, yes, the issue was correct, about flower-girl dresses, and it made me cry, and it really hurt my feelings.’

She then went on to criticise the palace for failing to correct the story – suggesting that royal aides had hung her out to dry to protect the Duchess of Cambridge.

All of which left me in a bit of a sticky situation. As I told Phillip Schofield on This Morning the following day, ‘I don’t write things I don’t believe to be true and that haven’t been really well sourced.’

Having seemingly been completely bowled over by Meghan’s version of events, Schofe then went for the jugular: ‘I have to say, though, that’s all addressed in that interview, isn’t it, because she [Meghan] couldn’t understand why nobody stood up for her?’

Yet someone had stood up for her, on that very same This Morning sofa: me.

As I told Phil and Holly on 14 January 2019, as more reports of ‘Duchess Difficult’ started to emerge, ‘I think she [Meghan] is doing really well, she looks amazing, she speaks well. She has played a blinder.’

So you’ll forgive me if I can’t quite understand why Meghan didn’t feel the need to correct this supposedly glaring error once she had her own dedicated head of communications from March 2019 – or indeed when she ‘collaborated’ with Scobie, who concluded in his bestselling hagiography that ‘no one cried’?

Moreover, how did the Duchess know a postnatal Kate wasn’t ‘left in tears’? And if she doesn’t know, what hope has the average troll observing events through the prism of their own deep-rooted insecurities?

It appears the actual truth ceases to matter once sides have been taken in the unedifying Team Meghan versus Team Kate battle that has divided the internet.

Make no mistake, there are abject morons at both extremes spewing the sort of bile that, ironically, makes most of the media coverage of Harry and Meghan look like a 1970s edition of Jackie magazine.

It perhaps didn’t help my case that the day before the interview was aired in the US, I had written a lengthy piece carefully weighing up the evidence behind allegations of ‘outrageous bullying’ that had been levelled against Meghan during what proved to be a miserable 20 months in the Royal family for all concerned.

The messages – to my Twitter feed, my email, my website and official Facebook page – ranged from the threatening, to the typical tropes about media ‘scum’ and the downright bizarre. Some accused me of being in cahoots with Carole Middleton, with whom I have never interacted, unless you count a last-minute Party Pieces purchase in a desperate moment of poor parental planning.

Another frequent barb was questioning why the press wasn’t writing about that ‘pedo’ [sic] Prince Andrew instead – seemingly oblivious to the fact that no one would know about the Duke of York’s links to Jeffrey Epstein if it wasn’t for the acres of coverage devoted to the story by us royal hacks over recent years.

It didn’t matter that I had repeatedly torn the Queen’s second, and, some say, favourite son to pieces for everything from his propensity to take his golf clubs on foreign tours to that disastrous Newsnight interview.

Contrary to the ‘invisible contract’ Harry claims the palace has with the press, royal coverage works roughly like this: good royal deeds = good publicity. Bad royal deeds = bad publicity. We effectively act as a critical friend, working on behalf of a public that rightly expects the royals to take the work – but not themselves – seriously.

So when a royal couple preaches about climate change before taking four private jets in 11 days, it is par for the course for a royal scribe to point out the inconsistency of that message. None of it is ever personal, as evidenced by the fact that practically every member of the monarchy has come in for flak over the years.

If Oprah wasn’t willing to point out the discrepancies in Harry and Meghan’s testimony, surely it is beholden on royal reporters to question how the Duchess had managed to undertake four foreign holidays in the six months after her wedding, in addition to official tours to Italy, Canada, and Amsterdam, as well as embarking on a lengthy honeymoon, if she had ‘turned over’ her passport?

While no one would wish to undermine the extent of her mental health problems, could it really be true that she only left the house twice in four months when she managed to cram in 73 days’ worth of engagements, according to the Court Circular, in the 17 months between her wedding and the couple’s departure to Canada?

And what of the ‘racist’ headlines flashed up during the interview purporting to be from the British press, when more than a third were actually taken from independent blogs and the foreign media? The UK media abides by the Independent Press Standards Organisation’s Code of Conduct ‘to avoid prejudicial or pejorative reference to an individual’s race’, as well as by rigorous defamation laws. And rightly so – the British press doesn’t always get it right. But social media is the Wild West by comparison, publishing vile slurs on a daily basis with impunity.

Some therefore find it strange that such a litigious couple would claim to have been ‘silenced’ when they have made so many complaints, including resorting to legal action, over stories they claim not to have even read. There is something similarly contradictory about a couple accusing the tabloids of lacking self-reflection while refusing to take any blame at all – for anything.

In any normal world, informed writing on such matters would be classed as fair comment, but not, seemingly, on Twitter where those completely lacking any objectivity whatsoever are only too willing to virtue signal and manoeuvre.

As the trolling reached fever pitch in the aftermath of the interview, veteran royal reporter Robert Jobson of the Evening Standard called me. ‘Don’t respond to these freaks,’ he advised. ‘It’s getting nasty out there. Watch your back!’

Yet despite my general sense of bewilderment at the menacing Megbots, I can’t say it didn’t appal me to discover a close friend had received online abuse, purely by dint of being my mate. After discussing the lengths the troll must have gone to to track her down, she asked me, ‘Do you ever worry someone might do something awful to you?’ Er, not until now, no.

Of course it’s upsetting, even for a cynical old-timer like me. Worse still are people who actually know me casting aspersions on my profession on social media. Often these are the same charlatans who would think nothing of sidling up to me for the latest gossip on the Royal family, while publicly pretending that reading any such coverage is completely beneath them.

Most pernicious of all though – not least after Piers Morgan’s departure from Good Morning Britain following a complaint to ITV and Ofcom from the Duchess – is the corrosive effect this whole hullabaloo is having on freedom of speech. When you’ve got a former actor effectively editing a British breakfast show from an £11 million Montecito mansion, what next?

I cannot help but think we are in danger of setting race relations back 30 years if people are seriously suggesting that any criticism of Meghan is racially motivated. It’s the hypocrisy that gets me. When Priti Patel was accused of bullying, the very same people who willingly hung the Home Secretary out to dry are now the ones defending Meghan against such claims, saying they have been levelled at her simply because she is ‘a strong woman of colour’.

Of course journalists should take responsibility for everything they report and be held to account for it – but Harry and Meghan do not have a monopoly on the truth simply because the close friend and neighbour who interviewed them in return for £7 million from CBS took what they said as gospel.

If she isn’t willing to probe the disparity between Meghan saying someone questioned the colour of Archie’s skin when she was pregnant, and Harry suggesting it happened before they were even married, then someone must. There’s a name for such scrutiny. It’s called journalism.

The public reserves the right to make up its own mind – with the help of the watchful eye of a free and fair press. But that press can never be free or fair if journalists do not feel they can report without fear or favour. I’m lucky that a lot of the criticism I face is more than balanced out by hugely supportive members of the public and online community who either agree – or respect the right to disagree. Along with the hate mail, I have had many thoughtful and eloquent missives, including those that good naturedly challenge what I have written in the paper or said on TV, which have genuinely given me pause for thought.

I am more than happy to enter into constructive discourse with these correspondents, who are frankly sometimes the only people who keep me on Twitter. I mean, let’s face it, I wouldn’t be anywhere near the bloody thing if this wasn’t my day job.

With the National Union of Journalists this month declaring that harassment and abuse had ‘become normalised’ within the industry, never have members of Britain’s press needed more courage. As Winston Churchill famously said, ‘You have enemies? Good. That means you’ve stood up for something, sometime in your life.’

Who would have thought that the preservation of the fundamental freedoms that we hold so dear should partially rest on the shoulders of those who follow around a 94-year-old woman and her family for a living?

If I’d known then what I know now, would I still have written the bridesmaid’s dress story?

Yes – doubtlessly reflecting sisterly sobs all round. But after two decades in this business, I am clear-eyed enough to know this for certain: whatever I had written, it would still have ended in tears.

[that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main]

Hi!! Can you do a one shot of kyojuro ending up in our world and meets reader and they become friends and fall in love?

Of course! Thanks for requesting!!! I had a lot of ideas for this one! Thank you!!!!

Not exactly from around here

Kyojuro smiled as a scroll of parchment was dropped in his hand. Untying and unrolling the paper he looked at the newest target. Looking at the papers he seen a map on the second.

Confused he walked into town, looking around he spotted a shop owner setting up his sweets stand.

"Hello! Hi!" Rengoku called with a smile.

The middle age man smiled turning away from the Hawthorn he was skewing.

"Hey there! The sugars still heating up! But Can I interest you in my special sweet buns! There not typical!"

Rengoku smiled, "I was wondering if you could help me find this place."

The man looked over the stand looking at the map, "hmm...thats the old abonded train station, the tracks are covered in water." The man infromed, "If you want to go there, go down the back alley just down the street, you'll hit a dead end all the way down and take the stairs down, you'll see a fruit stand and turn left going down some more stairs."

"Thank you." Rengoku spoke putting the papers away, then looking at the stand, "how long is that sugar going to take?"

"Hmm? Not to longer more." The man spoke.

"Can I buy..."

Twenty mintues later Rengoku was walking down the second set of stairs with a bag of sweets in his hand and a stick of tanghulu-ed hawthorne in his hand, but before he could enjoy his sweet he past by a child playing by himself- so he was happy to share the Tanghulu with the small boy.

By the time he had made it to the run down station the sun was setting, the water filled the tracks like he was informed and the sitting area once well done was now over run with folliage, vines creating a curtain.

Walking down the colostone path he made it to a small ticket booth, swipping the vines away he seen no one in the ticket booth. Walking away from the ticket booth to look around a bit more he spotted a random mushroom in the middle of the walk way. Curious enough he went over to it- as it suddenly picked itself up and ran off.

Confused Rengoku followed the mushroom as it ran behind the sitting area and back around the far corner. Rengoku followed as he turned the corner. A shadow now in the ticket booth, and the small mushroom running over.

Rengoku followed moving the foliage again seeing the silhouette of what seemed to be a ticket master- the only solid thing was the brooch on the mans hat.

It was silent as the man held up a set of tickets.

"A ticket slip?" Rengoku asked, but got no reply, only a pointed finger at his haori.

Figuring it was the scroll hidden inside he took out the roll and set it on the wood.

The scroll was taken and ripped as it burnt to ashes and in replace Rengoku was given the ticket slip.

Taking it he looked at the slip- he had never heard of any of the stops passed the first three.

Walking over to the now clean sitting area he took a seat, a black cat joining his side as it waited with cat sized bag around its body, some other creatures such as more mushroom people, and flower fairies came to take a look at Rengoku- a human- none the less a demon slayer.

He looked down at the small group and smiled sending them into shock and hiding. He smiled brighter as they came out of hiding slowly- unsure if they'd be scooped up or slashed, but seeing his bright smile they took a seat, bathing in his sun like smile.

Hearing the train coming in he stood up, walking over towards the tracks to realize the water was still present, but filled with small fish and- what he assumed was an eel that pasted by. The colors in the water scattered as the train came in- coming to a slow stop as the doors slid open.

The cat took lead, hoping in as it held its ticket slip in its mouth. Rengoku followed after, still uncertain of what was really happening- but you could say curiosity killed the cat.

Taking a seat on the bench he looked out the window infront of him. Soon a ticket master- no more than the age of tweleve came floating by- two eyes following him as he held out a gloved white hand. Looking at the ticket he handed them to the boy, who took them and shreaded them in his hand processed shredder and moved on. On the first stop- people filed in, a veiled woman sitting next to him with a child in a wooven fruit basket- the child- of course wasn't human, and a male in a kitsune mask infront of him, smoking out of a Kiseru, and beside him sat the cat that minded it own bussniess.

It wasnt till the fourth stop he was left alone- the only residing was the cat. Rengoku looked over and waved smally with a bright smile but the cat never did respond.

Not so long after the same floating boy came back over- pointing to the door as the train came to a stop.

The cat got up as well as Rengoku went over the doors opening as they both walked out. Rengoku watched as the black cat made it own way leaving Rengoku alone in silence. Looking around he found some stairs, traveling up them he came to a back alley, he almost walked into busy foot-traffic, luckily stopping himself in time as he watched people pass by, werid items in there hands, dressed weirdly, some dressed in what seemed to be a uniform.

"You really are a slow one aren't you."

Rengoku looked up seeing the black cat sitting on an on-ing.

"Oh. So you do speak." Rengoku smiled. "I am-"

"Rengoku Koyojuro. I know who you are." The cat spoke, "why are you here?"

"I was sent on an assignment you see!" Kyojuro spoke with a bright smile, "that ticketmaster took my map. But I still have the letter- hey where are we?"

"Modern time- futuristic for you." The cat spoke, "Just do your job and leave. Don't cause a ruckus."

The cat left as Rengoku looked out into the crowd, with a bright smile on his face, and a hop in his stepped out into the crowd, just to be carried away by the crashing wave of people. When he finally got out of the crowd he looked around looking at the letter.

'Find Y/n'

Wss the first thing that stood out to him, he went to the closest person in veiw. A young girl in a school uniform with her friends.

"Excuse me!" Rengoku smiled happily.

The girls looked back at him- immediately flushed at his apperance, "Hi! I was wondering if you could help me find a Y/n?"

"Y-Y-Y/n? Y/n? W-w-what?" One girl spoke a flushing mess as she looked at the young man.

"Hmm..." Rengoku thought looking down at the paper.

"Ah! A Y/n L/n! Or a L/n Y/n! Which ever way sounds familiar would really help!" Rengoku smiled.

"L/n?"

"Ah as in L/n-Sensei!" One girl pipped up.

"The pretty teacher?" Another girl asked.

"Pretty teacher?" Rengoku asked.

One nodded, "She works at the highschool. Shes Mirus home room! Isnt that right Miru-san?!"

"H-huh! Oh...yeah!" She flustered.

"She should still be at the school. She said she had a meeting."

"Where can I find this highschool?"

"Its down that way."

Thanking the young women he left to find this highschool.

Walking along the streets he seen cars and bikes past by- confusing him- but interesting him none the less. Asking for directions once more he had made it to the school, walking through the front gate he stopped hearing windows being opened abruptly.

A young woman stood there, her hair down and relaxed as the breeze blew through it softly. The breeze now dismissed- showed her face, Kyojuro awe strucken by her appearance, she seemed to be the only simple thing in this hetic world he had traveled too- her bright colorful eyes made her stick out- show casing her warm heart and soul as she smiled.

From the corner of her eye she spotted the bright colors of the sun. Turning her head down she looked at the male looking up at her- there bright eyes locking with one another.

It was silent, the breeze coming and going as they stayed awe strucken by one another.

"Can I help you with something sir?"

There it was. Her voice, a love striken arrow piercing Rengoku's heart.

"My name is Rengoku Kyojuro."

His voice sent a warm fuzz to her cheeks.

"I am L/n Y/n."

This was her.

"I. I've heard of you." Rengoku called back, "I was wondering. If you'd like to become friends!"

"A pretty bold move for friendship Mr.Kyojuro!"

Rengoku smiled, "I suppose it is Ms.L/n!"

"we can grab some yakisoba, maybe a beer? Or some sake?"

Rengoku nodded as Y/n smiled, "Give me time to grab my things."

Rengoku patiently waited as the woman soon came down the steps and out the school.

"Its nice to meet you as a whole rather than just your upper half." Rengoku smiled as Y/n chuckled softly.

"So. How about that food?"

That was the start of it, there meeting- they had sat and ate talking along the way, laughing and joking- until Kyojuro brought his reasoning for being where they were.

"A demon train?" Y/n asked.

"It may be hard to believe-"

"It really isn't!" Y/n said, "This is the modern world after all- just if your a supposed demon slayer why didnt you just kill the thing instead of boarding it?"

"I'm still asking myself that question!" He laughed rubbing the back of his neck with a smile.

Y/n ate some rice as he contuied to talk,

He may be hot but kinda childish- or is it dense...

"So whats the plan then? How are you getting back?" Y/n asked.

"Oh." Rengoku spoke.

Well atleast he has a plan

"You see. I don't exactly know!" He finished.

Of course he doesnt have a plan

"Well how about staying at my place until then?" Y/n asked, "I teach mythology and history.So you'll be my living reference in return"

"That sounds great!"

"Well first we should dress you modernly. Im sure the police will arrest you for walking around with a sword." Y/n informed.

"Oh."

Rengoku listened as Y/n informed him on the modern world the two soon returning to her place, he was most interested in the colorized pictures on the wall as she started informing him on where things were.

"Rengoku?"

"Hmm?"

She turned around to see him with a frame in his hand, but he soon set it down.

"Something wrong?"

"No. Nothing at all. I've never seen so many. Who paints them all?" He asked curiously.

"There taken with a camera that links to my printer." Y/n informed.

"Can we take one? You know before we figure out a way for me to get back!" Rengoku asked.

"Yeah I don't see why not." Y/n smiled.

Rengoku smiled as Y/n continued the house tour. The next few days Y/n would help Rengoku get accustomed to modern life, and he'd teach her about his time- simple things she wanted to know really. He accompanied her to school where he sat in the corner in the from of the class- or in the back depending on the time. Most of the highschool girls fauned over him- and maybe even some of the boys.

It was safe to say- Y/n and Rengoku had become friends. Yet that didn't stop Rengoku from wanting to return home. A week into his visit he was still there, and he was missing home none the less.

Y/n frowned seeing Rengoku doodling little images of his old friends and world.

"What do you want for dinner today Rengoku?" Y/n asked.

"I picked yesterday! You can pick today!" He spoke smiling.

"How about pozole?" Y/n asked.

"Is that new?" He asked.

"No." Y/n responed, "it's a hispanic dish. I figured while your hear. Maybe you could try some other cultural food! Fish isnt the only thing out there you know!"

Rengoku smiled softly, "that sounds great then."

Y/n smiled, "how about helping me?"

Rengoku nodded as the two got to work. He had found himself attached- warm hearted next to her. He knew she was going out of her way to not only help him, but try and feel better.

They cooked and cooked, the two laughing along the way as they sat down with there bowls to eat.

Rengoku took a spoonful happily, "It's diffrent. I like it!"

Y/n smiled, "Im glad you like it so much. Now you know how to make it so you can make it whenever!"

He nodded as they contuied to eat, "I was thinking."

Rengoku looked up from his bowl, "maybe we could take the camera out? Go take some pictures together?"

Rengoku nodded with a smile, "I'd enjoy that!"

"Then it settled! We can go out after we eat!"

The dinner was filled with laughter and jokes, dishwashing contained a bubble fight. Ending in the two of them sitting against the counter taking a break. Just for them to get up again and get ready to head out, Y/n with a camera in her hands.

The evening was warm, and happy- a smile not leaving any of there faces. It was mostly goofy pictures of the two of them doing things- just one- as the other one was usually taking the picture.

Y/n intruppted a man for a quick question as he happily agreed, Y/n ran over to Rengoku pulling on the haori he had overlaping his buttonup.

"He's gonna take a picture of us." Y/n said pointing to the man who held the camera.

Rengoku nodded in understanding as the two stood ready bright smiles on there faces as they stood infront of some neosigns.

"There we go!"

"Thanks alot!"

"It was no problem!"

Y/n smiled looking at the photo.

"One more place?" She asked.

Rengoku agreed as she pulled him along, the route soon told him where they were going.

"I figured." Y/n spoke walking down the stairs, "the trainstation of which you magically appeared would be a nice photo right?"

Rengoku nodded, "It would be nice."

Y/n smiled as she found a rock to perch the camera on, "it'll be on a timer so I'll rush over and we can take the picture!"

Rengoku watched as she quickly ran over the two smiling as she held his arm, there fingers interlaced with each others. The photo snapped and Y/n smiled rushing over to get it. Making there way home Rengoku looked at her free hand, hanging by her side as she held the camera in one hand.

Feeling his pinky being taken he looked back down and noticed Y/n wrapped her pinky around his, looking back up at her she walked normally- following in suit he wrapped his pinky around hers.

"Hey Rengoku..."

"Hmm?"

She was silent for a mintue, "nevermind..."

Rengoku frowned as they got home, taking there shoes off, Y/n took her coat off and Rengoku hung his haori up besides it.

"I...Im gonna go print these pictures-"

"Wait a mintue." Rengoku said grabbing her hand, "What. What were you going to say? Before the nevermind. It must've been important."

"No. Nothing." Y/n spoke walking away and to her desk, "We should get these printed."

The mood suddenly changed, it was lighthearted once more as they figured out what pictures to print. Rengoku watched her smile and laugh as he stood over the chair using the back as a leaning support.

"Hey! Thats a good one!" Rengoku pointed out at the picture of Y/n feeding the deer they seen passing a tea garden.

Y/n looked at him, his face now level with hers as he looked at the computer with a smile. Pressing a quick kiss to his cheek he flustered immediately.

They looked at each other, Y/n flushing immediately.

"S-sorry." She apologized.

"You missed." Rengoku told her.

"I-I missed?" Y/n asked as Rengoku pecked her lips softly.

"See I didn't miss." He smiled brightly, "You try again-"

Rengoku was silenced as Y/n kissed him again, this time, the kiss lasted longer than a peck.

Standing up her hands ran through his hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. He only responded with his hands on her hips, pushing into the kiss more she stumbled back a bit and bumped into her desk.

Pulling away Rengoku smiled softly as did she, "sorry." He apologized with a light laugh.

She chuckled lightly, her head resting against his, "you...kiss good."

Rengoku flushed softly as Y/n rubbed the back of her head.

"I uh. The printers in my room." She spoke softly rushing off flushed as he followed with a smile.

She looked at the pictures with a smile, as he stood in her doorway, leaning against the frame.

"Hey. Rengoku here are-"

She froze as he was suddenly next to her, a smile as he observed her.

"W-what is it?"

He sighed,tossing his Haori on her bed as he rolled up his sleeves. Gulping unknowing of what was to happen she was suddenly picked up.

"If I want to keep that smile on your face! I suppose I must tickle you!"

"Wait! Rengoku!-"

She was tossed on the bed as he climbed over her. Almost immediately tickling her she cried out in laughter, finishing off his tickling with a kiss to her lips he laid on his side, waiting for her to calm down.

"Want another tickle?"

"No! No. Im okay." She chuckled as he smiled.

Sighing she finally calmed down, the two laying on the bed together in peace, she yawned as he covered them with the white, flamed desgined haori.

"Im glad I found you." Rengoku spoke softly kissing her head as she smiled.

"I love you Ren." She smiled hugging him.

"I love you too N/n."

The two fell asleep in each others embrace, the suns rays of the next day only waking the two up.

Rengoky yawned as he sat up, back pain immense as he covered his eyes from the sun- which was odd as he remembered you only opening your curtains a bit.

"Aniki?"

He looked behind him seeing Tanjiro.

"Ah! Thank god we found you!" Tanjiro sighed in relief.

Tanjiro?

Why was Tanjiro here?

Wait.

Rengoku looked around quickly, "No. No. No. No no. No. No! No!" He cried getting up to his feet.

He had returned to the trainstation that started his journey.

"Y/n!" He called out, maybe you had been brought back with him, "Y/n!"

Tanjiro frowned at Rengoku's sudden burst.

"Hey. Hey! Calm down. Aniki what's wrong? What happened?" Tanjiro attempted to calm, "where did these chlothes come from?"

"No! She was here! She was with me! I-" Rengoku jumbled together.

"Aniki. Please. Take a deep breathe." Tanjiro spoke holding Rengoku's arms, "maybe that will jog your memory?"

Rengoku turned arouned to see his sword on the floor and under it was paper. Rushing over he looked at the papers- photos you had printed and taken for him. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks as Tanjiro comforted him.

#demon slayer imagines #demon slayer #kny #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny rengoku #demon slayer rengoku #rengoku kyoujurou #kimetsu no yaiba rengoku

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

Girl Scout pt.1

Peter Maximoff x Reader fic

Hey y’all I haven't posted anything in a while but I decided to finally start on this story idea that I’ve had in my drafts for a while now. It is based off that video of Evan trying to sell girl scout cookies. I’ve decided to split it into three parts reader doesn't come out in this one its mostly sibling banter between Lorna and Peter but I hope you enjoy part 1! 

Summary: Lorna breaks her leg and is no longer able to sell girl scout cookies for her contest. So Peter is forced to become an honorary girl scout and sell them for her. And in doing so meets someone who might be able to help him win. 

Word Count: 1085

Peter watched as his little sister argued with their mom, whining that she didn't want to just sit in the house all day. Lorna wasn’t even mad that her leg was broken, she was more upset over the fact that her broken leg took her out of the girl scout cookie selling competition. Peter let out an amused huff at her misguided priorities, he lazily sat down in the recliner watching their argument go down. “Lorna the answer is no.” His mom said sternly as she readjusted the pillow probing up her daughter’s leg. 

“But mom, I have to sell them. If I don’t I could be kicked out of the troop.” Lorna whined, sitting up.

 His mom pushed her back down. “I already talked to your troop leader, she understands and said you’re excused from your girl scouting duties so there.” She made her way over to where Peter was sitting, shooing him out of her chair as she sat down with a tired sigh. “The only reason you want to sell them is so you can beat that girl from your troop. What’s her name, Susie, Sarah…”

“Sandra.” Lorna said through gritted teeth. Peter would have laughed at his sister's bitter rivalry if there wasn't pure malice in her narrowed eyes. “She wins every year and thinks she’s so great.” She said in a mocking tone. “I would have beat her this year too!”

“Well you should have thought of that before you and Peter went skateboard racing against the Johnson kids down the big hill on main street.” His mother scolded, shooting a glare this way. “If you hadn't of used your super speed Lorna wouldn't have flown off and broken her leg.” 

Peter scoffed, giving his mom his best wounded puppy look. “Come on, you're making it sound like it's all my fault.” 

“It is.”  

Peter grimaced remembering how when he made it to the bottom of the hill Lorna was missing and was later found in the neighbors flower bed. “Oh Yeah.” 

“It was worth it.” Lorna said with a smirk, Peter sped over to give her a high five and matched her smirk. Lorna turned to stare at him, her smirk looking more and more like the Grinch's the longer she stared at him. Peter raised an eyebrow looking at her with cautious eyes. 

“What’s up doc?” He asked, taking a bite of his twinkie.

“You could sell the girl scout cookies for me!” She blurted out, holding her arms out towards him. Peter reeled back as if he had been hit. 

“What? No!” 

“Please Peter.” Lorna said in a sickly sweet tone, trying her best to use her little sister's powers against him.

“No.” He said with a bored expression, not buying her fake niceness. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You owe me.” She sat back on the couch motioning towards her leg. “It’s your fault, you broke my leg.” 

“Hey! It was your idea for me to cheat-” His mom gave him a dirty look and he quickly reworded. “I mean for me to “help” us win by using my super speed.” He ripped open a box of girl scout cookies that he found on the coffee table. He pointed a thin mint at her accusingly. “Plus you said it was worth it.” 

Lorna crossed her arms, looking down on him. “I lied. 

Peter put a hand on his chest in mock pain. “You’ve wounded me Lorna. Truly wounded me.”

“And you owe me $6.50 for the cookies.”

“$6.50! That’s insane, these things are worth $2 at most.” Peter sputtered, spitting cookie crumbs out. 

“Not in this economy they ain’t” 

Their mother watched them bicker back and forth sipping at her drink. After a while she butted in. “It’s the least you can do.” Lorna pumped her arms up in triumph while Peter opened his mouth to complain. But a warning from his mother had him quickly shutting his mouth. “Don't argue with me boy I will make you return that pac man machine.”

Peter sighed and stood up. He reached for his wallet and took out seven dollar bills throwing them to Lorna. “Keep the change.” 

“So you’ll do it?” She asked with hopeful eyes.  

“...Yeah.” 

Lorna cheered and reached over to pull her little red wagon closer. It contained all the cookie boxes he still needed to sell, she rummaged among the boxes and pulled out a small green hat. Peter yanked it out of her hand and put it on his head. He sped over to the mirror, examining his reflection. “I don’t look half bad.” 

“Don’t forget the sash!” Lorna added with a smile.

Peter watched his face fall in the mirror, looking at Lorna with pleading eyes. “Not the sash.” 

“Mhmm.” Peter took the sash and slipped it over his head, it was too small for him so it fit him in an oddly tight way. He was pretty sure the only way the sash was coming off was if it was cut off of him. Lorna smirked at him from her place on the couch, Peter knew she was loving every second of the humiliation from him. “You look very pretty,'' she cooed.

“Well duh, I can make anything look good.” Peter replied, striking a pose that nearly ripped the sash. 

“Whatever. Just go sell more cookies than Sandra.” Peter snorted at the change of tone when she got to her enemies name. 

“And how many is that exactly?” 

His little sister reached for the clipboard that was on the arm of the couch. She flipped through the pages, scanning them with intense concentration. “400 boxes.”

Peter felt his mouth hit the floor. “400! I thought you said you were close!” 

“I am! Last year I was 889 away from beating her.” 

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.” He sighed, reaching for the handle of Lorna’s wagon. She slapped his hand away, making him reel back to look at her. “What the heck Lorna??”

“This wagon is girl scout property, you can't use it unless you’re a girl scout. Which you are not.”

“Then how am I supposed to carry all the boxes?” She just shrugged and turned back to watch the scooby doo cartoon that had started on the TV. Peter grumbled to himself, taking as many boxes as he could before speeding out the doorway. Peter starred out at the neighborhood, it was girl scout cookies, literal children sold them everyday. How hard could it be?

Taglist: @joshdunstoothbrush75 @chiswritingandreadingcorner @enemy-of-wonkru @xxspqcebunsxx @coffeeandteaintheevening @kitwalkerangel @xmaximoffic @livingmybestfictionallife @evanmybeloved @amourtentiaa @madison05x  @rottenstyx @shlutnutt  @raincoffeeandfandoms @ietss @cursedandromedablack  @nightlockcornucopia @mossybank @usuck

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff headcanon #peter maximoff xmen #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #quicksilver #quicksilver headcanon #quicksilver xmen x reader #quicksilver x you #quicksilver x reader #xmen fanfiction #xmen #marvel #marvel fanfiction #evan peters #evan peters headcanon #evan peters characters #evan peters x reader

[king-star]

I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing

Warnings: None

Match: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: its Valentine’s Day and Natasha is home alone, but you make it up to her

You climb out of your car and grab your duffel bag. That mission wasn’t tough, actually it was almost suspiciously easy. You felt dirty. Sure the hotel had a shower but sometimes you can’t feel clean until you take a bathe in your own shower. You were exhausted, Hungry, and you wanted to slip Into pyjamas and snuggle with your girlfriend. You drop off your files and mission bag at headquarters and head home. Your phone is returned to you and a blinking time and date look at you. “7:51 February 14 2021” you continue on until you realise with a groan. “ it’s Valentine’s Day.” Natasha was all alone at the facility on your first Valentine’s Day together. “ shit shit shit” you race home buying some flowers at a CVS on the way. Natasha is visibly absent. Tony is snuggling Pepper on the couch, and Steve and Bucky are nowhere to be seen. You are sure Vision had Wanda out on a wonderfully romantic date, and Clint at home with his wife. Natasha really was all alone. You throw your phone onto the couch next to Tony, “ where is she?” Tony grumbles. “ In the office.” Pepper yells at you. “ thanks’’ you climb up the stairs and race into the office. “ Tasha I’m home love,” she turns to you and shushes you. She is watching a meeting. You walk up behind her and lay your hand on her shoulders massaging slightly. “ oh baby you’re so tense” you massage her slightly and she moans a little at the release of tension. “ yeah it’s almost over” you lean down to her ear. “ how’s the meeting?” She groans. “ I want to stab everyone,” you laugh. “ I wouldn’t want you any other way.” “No seriously, I am a trained killer. I can go in and stab them all so no more meetings,” you laugh even harder clutching your chest. “ Just don’t get blood on your dress. We have dinner reservations at 7,” she turns to you. “ I love you for enabling me, but since when.” You pick your brain. “ since now. I’ll leave you be.” You turn and leave preparing to order some dinner and set a nice table. “I love you” she yells after you when you walk out the door. You just blow her a kiss. You pick up your phone and text Wanda,

Y/N: what should I order for me and Tasha?

Wanda: Shush I’m on a date

Wanda: mediterranean

You groan, “ Hey Friday can you pull up Mediterranean restaurants near me?” Friday clicks on “ Yes Ms. L/N, Tony has a restaurant on file under the label Mediterranean place for Pepper when she’s on her special time. Would you like me to call them?” You laugh hysterically and file that away to tell her about it later. “ yes please.” Friday orders everything on the menu and 15 minutes later it arrives. You ask one of the androids to set the table and focus on getting ready. Tonight was going to be special. You needed to make up for being away for a week. Wanda wasn’t home to help you this time, and you were at an absolute loss. “ hey Friday can you pick out an outfit,” Friday didn’t respond and you groaned. “ damn it,” you pick up your phone and let your hand rest over the contact. You didn’t want to text him. I mean you loved him but he was insufferable. You let your thumb drop and placed the phone to your ear. One ring, two, three the line clicked on. “ hey Y/N, what can I help you with on this such an interesting evening?” You groan “ hey Sam, I need help. Impromptu dinner date with Nat. I have no clue what to wear,” you could feel the sparkles in his eyes at the idea of getting to dress you up. “ oh honeyyyyy I would loovveeee to” he hangs up and is at your door 1 minute later. “ here’s the deal sweetheart. I help you and you have to tell me every detail. And I mean EVERY detail. Got it.” You nod with an eye roll. “ ok let’s get started. With as helpless as you are this is going to take a while. If you ever need someone to be your full time designer I am free,” he placed his hand under his chin and gave his cheesiest smile. “all right mr. Wilson. Could you get to helping me?” Sam walked towards your closest and gasped dramatically. “ oh honey you wardrobe is an absolute disaster. Here let’s go grab something from Wandas. What look are you going for?”You follow him through the door as he practically floats to the next room. “No dress or skirt, something classy but sexy enough to get Tasha in the mood,” Sam makes a suggestive face and raising his eyebrows at you. “ oh grow up Sam!” He giggles like a child and flicks through some of wandas clothes. 10 minutes of arguing and Sam being a literal 8 year old girl you are dressed. Sam has gone back to his room with a reminder that you owed him details. You went back to your room. You had to admit, for all his faults, Sam was amazing at what he did. You had on red pants with solid black converse, a white suit jacket, and a black turtleneck with a hem that reached just bellow your breasts. It was classy and sexy just how you wanted. The androids did well setting up the food in a beautiful way with a white tablecloth to prove how fancy it was. You turned to the bar and started to pour yourself wine, conscious of your pure white jacket. “ Ms. L/N, Ms. Romanoff is outside the door waiting to come in. “ Friday announced over the speakers. You took a breath steadying yourself. Four months into your relationship you still got nervous with every date and touch. “ please tell her she’s welcome in.” You instruct gulping your wine. Natasha sauntered into the room in the way you’d only see on Black Widow. Her hips swayed seductively but you couldn’t see any effort in it. Every movement was smooth and natural. When you finally looked at her it took every ounce of your self will to keep your mouth from falling open. She looked absolutely stunning. The skirt of the dress was slightly see through black fabric with lace flowers embroidered onto it. The neckline plunged to her belly button and the straps wrapped behind her neck. She had gone for pure sexy and teasing herself. “ oh my Y/N you sure are looking nice,” she smirked at you running her hand down the smooth fabric of the jacket. “ yeah a little help from Sam and reading Wandas closet and here we are.” She laughed at you and sat down. The table was small enough to be intimate but large enough to hold the food. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the thick alluring smell. “ damn that smells good. Sit down so we can eat

already,” you did as she said and began pulling your plate with lemon potatoes and falafel. Natasha followed suit and the two of you were knee deep in food and laughter only a few minutes in. “ so Tasha how were things while I was away?” She considered before answering “ utterly boring. We had a movie night and I had no one to snuggle with,” you laughed at her. The food was cleared away and you moved to the balcony that overlooked New York. The view was stunning. Cafe lights illuminated the concrete floor. You grabbed her hand and pulled her small fork close to you. “Ms. Natalia Romanova would you do me the greatest of honours and dance with me?” She looked up into your eyes and smiled. She stood on her toes slightly and planted a light kiss on your mouth. “ of course I would Ms. Y/N L/N,” you walk towards the middle of the balcony and place your hands on her hips. “ Friday, Music please.” You shout and Friday starts to play I don’t want to miss a thing from Aerosmith. Natasha looks at you and her eyes shine in recognition. “ you either have really good taste or listen very well,” you smile and squeeze her hand as the two of you turn. “ a little bit of both,” you both laugh lightly. The two of you move with skill. One funny thing about being a spy as that you were skilled at everything, even dancing. When the song was over you two bowed and curtsied more as a joke than out actual respect. Natasha walked back up to you grabbing the front of your coat. Her face had a look of hunger and desire you had never seen on her before. “ I’m ready.” She said with a Grave seriousness. You laughed slightly “ good to know that I exceeded your Valentine’s expectations.” She punched you slightly, much lighter than she was capable of. “ I’m serious Y/N, we’ve been together this long.” You drop your joking tone and look her in the eye pacing both your hands on her arms.

“are you sure?” When you had first made things official with Natasha the two of you had agreed to take things slow. Partly out of an unspoken need for something normal partly because the two of you had an overflowing amount of trauma resulting from having to give your bodies to the mission. “ I love you to death and I’m ready to go there with you.” She leaned up to kiss you again. You nodded and pulled her inside. “ then what are we waiting for?” You grab her hand and pull her to your room. You set her on your bed and kiss her. “Dear lord I love you,” you whisper in her ear. She smiles and kisses your neck in response.

(this was reposted from my old account)

Natasha Tag list

@basiclesbianbitch

@stephanieromanoff

@sapphicshots

@madamevirgo

@choni-trimberly

@wlwlovesreading

@i-just-like-storage

@screamsin-gay

@ymzki-haruki

permanent tag list

@procrastinatingsapphictrash

@xburningbluex

@zoeyserpentluck

@iamgaiiiuwu

@natasharomanoffswife

@slut-for-nat

@fleurlovesbucky

@fayhar

@ymzki-haruki

#Black widow x reader #Natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #Natasha romanoff #marvel #avengers #fluff #King-star

[twisted-in-wonderland-jay]

Birthday from the boys (NRC)

Something to know for reading all of this is that I’m going to try my best to write platonic relationships that can be implied as romantic. Because some people may like a character but not feel romantic feelings towards them but still would like to know how they would act on their birthday.

Part two is the teachers and RSA

Riddle

He would prune the garden himself, regardless of the queen of hearts laws he would paint the roses your favorite color

He would lead you to the garden where the two of you would have tea and talk for hours

Eventually taking you around the garden

Ace

Out of all of these boys, he’s the one that’s most likely to forget your birthday

This man did not write it down

He overhears you talking with the other first years and them saying happy birthday. Then it finally clicks and he remembers that today is your birthday and he plays it off like he remembered

He’s not being mean in any way he just honestly doesn’t remember birthdays well

He talks with the first years while you’re not around and plans a little sleepover of sorts at your dorm

When you come back to your dorm for the night you find all of the first years there and they’re just kind of chilling in the lounge

They bring out a cake for you saying that they all baked and decorated it themselves but with the experience that the first years have it’s a strange-looking cake but it does it taste all that bad it’s just a lot of frosting and decorations because each one of them wanted to add a personal touch.

You guys have fun run around the dorm causing trouble

Then once it turns 12 you guys decide to settle down for the night and plot twist you don’t actually go to bed but instead play Mario kart till 3 AM

Deuce

He would try his hardest the whole day to make it the most perfect and kind of relaxing day ever. But utterly fail

In his eyes, he failed but it’s not that big of a deal

He’ll try to hold the door open for you or carry you around for fun and either, drop you, or trip

He feels really bad the whole day that he keeps messing everything up and it keeps getting less and less romantic

At the end of the day, you assure him that you had the best time and it was very fun. Which he doesn’t really believe because again he feels like he failed but he’s glad you had a good time.

He also stays the night hanging out with you until you fall asleep.

Trey

He would bake you a cake from scratch and decorated it with little flowers of your favorite color

He’s a really sweet guy so he would invite a couple of your close friends maybe three or four of them so that you’re not alone on your birthday and you also won’t have any leftover cake because you’ll eat it all.

A very nice and sweet get together messing around having fun

Cater

The morning would start very easy with the simple happy birthday and him taking you skateboarding you don’t have to go to a skating park or anything like that he’s just gonna teach you a couple of tricks.

But progressively throughout the day, it gets more centric and fun

At the end of the night can you both watch fireworks after you’ve just got done bungee jumping...

Leona

He’s not going to skip his morning to afternoon nap to tell you happy birthday even if he does care

A prince got to get his beauty sleep

When he wakes up he goes and attempts to find you and if he doesn’t he just goes man and gives up but if he does find you he tells you happy birthday and then walks off

Depending on your relationship with him he could be very distant and not caring but if you go and hang out with him during the afternoon when he’s not sleeping he’s pretty chill about it not really caring that you’re there if you have a negative disposition towards him he might care and tell you to leave.

Ruggie

He would take you shopping for the day

You might think he doesn’t have any money but those are jobs that he’s been working aren’t for nothing

He took all of the money he could for an entire month of work and saved it up spending it on your birthday

“What?! this is only part of my savings, not my entire Life funds” hehe...

Jack

Since magic mirrors make travel very easy he decides to take you back to his hometown

Not to meet his parents or anything but just to hang out because he talks about home a lot and wants to take you. What better time than your birthday

He takes you around his town and tells you about all of these places that he has memories that as well as putting you in the general direction of where he lives

He takes you to do all the fun things you can think of where he lives

When you both go back tonight NRC he quickly takes you by his dorm so he can grab something

He comes back with his gift to you which is a little cactus for you to take care of.

Azul

He wouldn’t have a birthday party for you

He would however have you meet him in the lounge

you two would have dinner together

Just the two of you...

you’ll take a walk through dorms halls just to talk in this moment you share alone

Jade

He would hang out with you if you wanted him to if you didn’t want him to he would tell you to go hang out with your friends since it is your special day

He would give you some sort of terrarium or if you’re not into those he would give you a rare plant for you to take care of as a gift

If you did want to hang out with him and you didn’t care where you went he’d invite you to a botanical garden for the day.

Whether you like it or not he’ll probably talk on and on about each plant and its properties in medicine and poison

Floyd

He would throw a great surprise birthday party for you

He’s got all of your favorite foods your favorite drink an awesome cake

And somehow he surprisingly kept this under wraps until the time of your birthday party

It would be in you’re dorm, and don’t worry afterward he would help you clean up the mess

When you walk in the door he has everyone holding confetti launchers... which he 100% is going to help you clean up after a lot of convincing

Kalim

This man knows how to throw parties and that’s terrifying

He would throw a massive party for you

He’s inviting all of NRC as long as they’re friends with you. Hell if you had friends in RSA he would invite them too.

He would have one of your other friends distract you for the day because it’s going to take the entire day to set up this banquet

He’s got everything a giant cake, fancy lights, a lounge area, a DJ, a chocolate fountain anything and everything that you would need for a successful party

Throughout the day if you try to go see him at all somebody’s always there to stop you and to distract you

You guys party for the whole night

Jamil

He would not throw a birthday party for you

As we all know he’s not really a people person

Chill about it passes you in the hall and says happy birthday

He offers to make you dinner but if you want to you can always decline

Although there is one thing you can’t decline and that’s the magic carpet ride he wants to take you on

He wouldn’t ask to borrow the magic carpet he’d just do it

Vil

He would throw a big banquet for you regardless of what you want

He’ll probably say something along the lines of “Fufufu do you think I have the time to do all this? someone else said it was a good idea and they did all the work it’s not as if I care or have time to.” But we all know he cares

He about all of Pomefiore if you have to invite any of your friends outside of the dorm he would be a little irritated and save fine I guess you can about your “other friends”

Epel

It would be the beginning of the day and he’s down the hall in spots you. He would immediately not yell your name but scream it and run to you yelling happy birthday. It would make quite the scene but he wants everyone to know that it’s your birthday and also Vil would probably hate the fact that he just screamed.

He asks you if you’re ready to “rock and roll” (for anyone who doesn’t know this is just a saying to ask if you’re “ready to go”)

He’s taking you on a trip to go do a bunch of fun stuff in town and to probably prank some people because why not.

Rook

Wouldn’t throw you a party instead he would probably stop by your dorm and announce his presence and sing you happy birthday.

Bring you some sort of small gift

He would tell you that he will follow you the whole day and you can do whatever you want with him

Rook is rather chill compared to some of the other boys. However, if you want him to he can take over because he’s kept note of what you like to do so he would take you to do things that you like.

Idia

He wouldn’t do anything special for your birthday

In fact, he’d probably have Ortho buy three slices of cake only, for the three of you

Throughout the day he doesn’t say anything about it

When you go to his dorm later he tells you happy birthday you guys eat the cake together

He kind of half-heartedly apologizes for not being able to throw a proper birthday party for you and that he’s sorry but his anxiety kind of got the best of him.

To make up for it he offers to play games with him until you want to leave

Before you leave he gives you a flower. An Asphodel The primary symbolic meaning of the Asphodel flower is peace after death and the afterlife, but this is not the meaning that is implied it is a white flower which generally symbolizes purity also it’s a symbolic flower of Hades

Ortho

He throws a big party at your dorm (if your dorm is Ignihyde he’d take it somewhere else), not ignihyde. Because the students are quite antisocial and it would be very disruptive.

He would invite all of your best friends

It is the cutest surprise birthday party ever

There would be fireworks, trick candles, and so many fun childish games that you would play at a party

Malleus

Malleus is somewhere in between depending on what you want so no this won’t be a surprise birthday

He’ll either throw a big party for you in the diasomnia dorm inviting basically everyone from all the dorms as long as they know you

Or if you’re more on the reserve side or you want a smaller party he’ll have a couple of your close friends join him and going to your dorm and having a get-together little party for you.

If you want to though he is 100% okay with just you and him hanging out for the day

Sebek

This man is crazy

He wrote down your birthday and planned weeks in advance

He would write down everything that you like in hopes that when it becomes your birthday he has everything that you could ever want on that day

He tries his best to bake a cake but then realizes that he’s actually really good at it

On the day of you’d think that he be really loud and excitable and overbearing but in fact, he is the complete opposite being very considerate and not quiet but an inside voice because he doesn’t want to stress you out or seem disingenuous.

He doesn’t host a party for all of your friends it’s just you and him. The reason for this and putting in so much effort just for you and him is because he’s rather shy when it comes to not just romantic feelings but platonic feelings as well not showing people how he really feels especially when it’s around other people as well. So it’s kind of to make himself feel more comfortable as well

Silver

Silver isn’t the party kind of person so he’ll probably get you a cute little gift like a bouquet of roses specifically white roses to symbolize purity or maybe a charm bracelet.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to throw you a birthday party it’s just that he doesn’t know how to go about it since the only parties ever really celebrated is his own because of Lilia when he was younger.

If you say something about not having a party or a cake he’ll get a little sad thinking that he might have failed you.

He’ll probably just follow you around doing whatever you wanted for the day as long as you didn’t have class.

He would also have a cute little lunch with you of food that he made before. You guys would probably go sit in the courtyard and eat next to a tree. Be careful though he may or may not fall asleep...

You might have to wake you’re sleeping, Prince

Lilia

He’ll invite you to a concert and then right as the performance is about to start he’ll say something like he has to use the restroom or he’s going to get a drink and he’ll be right back he promises.

As the performance is starting and the lights turn off you start to worry that he’s going to miss it

And then as the stage lights turn on and you see him on stage getting ready to perform

He’s going to perform an entire album that he and the light music club came up with for you as a birthday gift

Knowing him at the end of the performance he’s probably going to get off the stage to go and kiss you (Not necessarily on the lips if it’s a platonic relationship it’s probably on the forehead with the cheek as a sign of affection no love).

#twisted wonderland #savanaclaw #diasmonia #heartslabyul #ignihyde #octavinelle #pomefiore #scarabia #riddle rosehearts #trey clover #cater diamond #deuce spade #ace trappola #leona kingscholar #jack howl #ruggie bucchi #azul ashengrotto #malleus draconia #jade leech #kalim al asim #jamil viper #vil shoenheit #rook hunt #epel felmier #idia shroud #ortho shroud #floyd leech #lilia vanrouge #silver twisted wonderland

[give-seconds]

I Love You

This is part two of my Jisung fic for A Vibe collab! If you haven’t read part one, here it is!

Paring: Jisung x genderneutral reader

Warnings: Death of a parent

Summary: In which you’ve been obsessed with the idea of meeting your soulmate since you were born, but your soulmate doesn’t think the same.

Word count: 19.9k

---

It’s been a month and a half since you found out Jisung was your soulmate. It took a week of Chenle’s magic counseling (his words, not yours) until you were able to stop avoiding him and Jaemin. Chenle made you realize that even if they had something now, Jisung was your soulmate. The more you got to know each other, the easier it would be for you two in the future. No matter how far away that future is.

After that week, you had to slowly condition yourself to be around them. It wasn’t easy at first, and it took you a few days to be able to look Jaemin in the eyes. Even though it took a month for you to be semi-normal with them again, they never pushed you to spend time with them. Of course, they still made offers for you to join for certain activities, and Jaemin made sure to let you know you didn’t have to do anything you weren’t comfortable doing.

In short, you quickly realized what Jisung saw in him. If you didn’t know who your soulmate was, you might have wished he were your soulmate.

“If you were to give someone an ‘I’m sorry I’ve been so weird lately, but thanks for being so understanding’ gift, what would you give them?” you ask into the phone.

“I don’t know, man. If you ask me, you don’t even need to get them anything,” Chenle answers.

“But you don’t understand,” you sigh, picking up a bar of chocolate and flipping it over to look at the back, “I’ve been so distant from them. They’re my only friends here, and I’m thankful they didn’t drop me after I left during that first lunch. I mean, I ghosted them for like a week or two. If I were them, I would’ve dropped me.”

“Okay, okay, I get your point. Get them a flower or just a card. Oh, offer to buy them lunch.”

“I already got them lunch, but I want to give them something more. So maybe a plant or something?”

“Unless you don’t like plants.”

“Why would you say that?” you laugh, stepping to the side of the aisle to try and stand more out of the way.

“I don’t know! Just buy them a fake one. That way, if they like plants, they can have one that looks like one. If they don’t like them, then they don’t have to worry about keeping it alive.”

“Have I ever told you how useless you are in these situations?”

“What can I say? I’ve never been in this situation before. So you have fun, and I’m going to enjoy sitting at home with my ice cream.”

“Completely, utterly useless.”

“If you’re done hurting my feelings,” he says, and you hear the sound of clinking as he picks a spoon from the drawer, “I have ice cream to get back to.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Fine. Abandon me, like you always do.”

He chuckles. “Finally, I can’t wait to be rid of you.”

You smile to yourself, rolling your eyes at his words. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Was that your soulmate?”

You jump, spinning around to meet the person behind you, hand held against your chest. “Why did you do that?”

Jisung smiles. “I had to let you know I was here somehow.”

“And just saying ‘hi’ was too hard?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “There’s no spark in that.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “There’s a reason Jaemin and you get along so well, and I think that’s a big part of it. But uh—” you look away from him, turning your body to look at the same bar you looked at earlier “—no, that wasn’t my soulmate. Just my best friend.”

He nods, his eyes wandering around the aisle. “You two seem close. And before you worry too much, my English isn’t good enough to follow the rest of the conversation I heard, which wasn’t much to begin with.”

You smile softly, not taking your eyes away from the chocolate. “We are. We grew up together. He’s in China now, so I don’t see him that much,” you place the bar back on the self, turning to smile at him, “but I make sure to call him often so he can’t forget me.”

It shocked you for a second, Jisung asking you if someone else was your soulmate. You forgot for a second that you are the only one between you two who knows of the connection between you two.

“Sounds about right. If Jaemin moved to another country, I think I’d do about the same thing.”

“I’m glad you understand.”

“So what are you doing here?” he asks, changing the subject.

“Oh, I’m looking for a gift to give my classmate. It’s his birthday coming up, but I don’t know him that well, so I was thinking of a plant? Do you like plants?”

He tilts his head from side to side. “Eh, kind of. I like how they make a room look though; they definitely spice things up.”

“Well, how about, if you’re not busy, you come and help me pick one out? His personality kind of reminds me of a mixture of you and Jaemin.”

“Sure. I was just here looking because I’m bored, so it’s not like I’m in a rush.”

“Weird, but okay.”

“Says you!" he exclaims, following you as you leave the aisle and walk towards the plant section. "You’re here buying a plant for a guy you barely know.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

---

“Hey y/n, on Friday, Jaemin and I are going camping to celebrate the end of summer. Would you like to come with us?”

After you gave them the apology plants, Jaemin and Jisung had, of course, accepted your apology. It had turned more emotional than you thought it would, with Jisung telling you he didn’t have a lot of friends outside of you and Jaemin, and he was thankful you still wanted to stay friends. Jaemin agreed, saying he was worried they had pushed you away. He further went on to call you stupid and say you had nothing to apologize for.

“For how long are you thinking?” you ask, not looking up from the table you are wiping down.

“Just for the weekend,” Jisung answers, spinning himself on one of the stools that sat at the counter. “We’d be back Sunday night.”

You nod your head, dropping the rag back into the bucket and grabbing the spray that sat next to it. “Yeah, that sounds fun. How far out are we going?”

“It’s about three hours away. But Jaemin is going to borrow his friend’s car, so we don’t have to take a bus or anything. He’ll be our personal driver.”

You snort, shaking your head slightly as you walk into the backroom to put the cleaning supplies away. “Sounds good,” you yell.

“It’ll be fun,” he yells back so you can hear him. “We’ll all share one tent, and I'll be sure to put you in the middle so you feel safe and sound."  

“Tell me why that makes me feel more unsafe?” you ask, leaning on the counter next to him.

He shrugs, smiling innocently. “Because you have an active imagination and a low opinion of us.”

You pretend to think for a second before nodding your head in agreement. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

---

“You guys will never guess what just happened,” Jaemin exclaims, drawing your attention away from the card game in front of you.

“Sounds like the walk to the main office was more exciting than I thought it would be,” you joke, placing your cards face down on the metal table.

“Yeah,” Jisung answers, placing his cards on the table opposite yours. “I thought Y/n teaching me how to play spoons would be the most eventful thing, given it is the most stressful card game I have—”

“You’re just weak. Spoons is the best game—”

“You’re a psycho.”

“Psycho!”

“I’m hijacking this conversation to bring the attention back to me,” Jaemin interrupts, taking a seat next to Jisung. “Are you ready to hear the best thing to ever happen to me?”

You smile, happy to see your friend practically vibrating from happiness. “Yes, Jaemin, don’t keep us waiting any longer.”

“Are you ready Jisung?” he asks, hugging his arm excitedly.

“Yes, yes I am,” he laughs, trying to pull his arm away.

“Okay, okay,” he takes a deep breath, shifting his eyes between you and Jisung, “I met my soulmate while at the main office.”

You immediately look over to Jisung, watching as his smile slips off his face, watching again as he forcibly puts it back on.

“That’s great, Hyung. I’m so happy for you.”

“Yeah, Jaemin,” you force your gaze away from Jisung to look at Jaemin, smiling softly at him, “that’s great. What are they like?”

You’re thankful Jaemin can’t see the sad look in Jisung’s eyes or hear the forced happiness. You know Jisung must be hurt, and as his friend, you can’t help but feel bad for him—even if he is your soulmate.

“She’s absolutely wonderful,” he gushes, hugging Jisung’s arm tighter. “She’s here with her friends, and she was going to the main office when I was on my way back. Up until now, I didn’t know what my mark was. But when I made eye contact with her, everything except her lost its color. She was literally the light of my life for five seconds.”

You smile, the soulmate enthusiast in you pushing away the pain you feel for Jisung. “That sounds beautiful Jaemin, congratulations.”

“Thank you y/n! Also, and if it’s okay with you two, I was going to take her to dinner tonight to get to know her better. Is that okay?”

“Of course, have fun on your date Jaemin.”

Jisung nods his head, effectively pulling his arm away from Jaemin. “Yeah, go have fun Hyung.”

Jaemin smiles widely, pulling Jisung into a hug. “Thank you both so much. I know I set out to find us a dinner place and am now leaving you, and this is our first day here, but I’ll send you a list of some nice places that are within walking distance. And if you don’t want to go out, we have food in the cooler.”

Jisung nods his head, smiling sadly. “Yeah yeah, we got it Hyung. Go have fun.”

He nods his head, smiling brightly as he stands up from the table. “Okay, thank you both so much. I’ll see you when I get back.

You wave as he jogs out of your campsite and somewhere to the left.

After Jaemin leaves, silence falls over you two. When you turn to look at Jisung, he’s staring in the direction Jaemin had run off in. Your heart breaks at the sight of his watery eyes, knowing it must feel more or less what you felt when you found out about Jisung being your soulmate.

You clear your throat, picking your cards up and combining them with the deck. “I’m not feeling very well. Are you okay if we stop playing?”

He wordlessly nods his head, not taking his eyes away from the spot. “My head is killing me; I think I’m going to go to the tent and sleep.” He turns his attention to you, weakly smiling. “Are you okay with that?”

You nod your head, smiling back at him. “Yeah, of course.”

He nods his head, a faraway look in his eyes, as he stands up from the table and makes his way to the tent.

---

Of course, this had to happen on what was meant to be a fun trip with his friends. He knew Jaemin would never love him back—that was something he had been slowly telling himself. This was too much too fast, though. He isn’t ready to lose Jaemin yet.

He pulls his knees close to his body, hugging his sleeping bag closer to him. He wants to cry, but he knows he can’t. It had taken him months to come to terms with himself and his bisexuality, but he doesn’t know if he’s ready to tell anyone else. He had gotten so used to telling Jaemin everything it felt weird that there was something more he was hiding from him.

He’s thankful you’re not questioning his sudden change in attitude. That is if you even noticed.

He squeezes his eyes shut, taking deep breaths to try and keep the tears from falling. He feels so alone, and he knows that if he just manned up and asked for help, he wouldn’t feel like this.

Taking a deep breath, he sits up enough to pull his phone out of his backpack. Laying back down, he turns on his phone and scrolls until he finds the one person he knows can make him feel better.

“Jisung-ah! To what do I owe this pleasure?”

He smiles at his mom’s bright voice, and when he closes his eyes, he can imagine her face. “Nothing, I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s a nice day, and I just wanted to call my mother.”

“Don’t insult my motherly skills,” she says sternly, and Jisung snorts at her response. “Now, tell me what’s wrong before I force it out of you.”

“Now, how would you do that?”

“Park Jisung, don’t change the subject.”

He sighs, the fake smile he put up to try and convey a happy attitude falling. “There’s nothing wrong, so to say, I just set myself up to get my feelings hurt and have to deal with the consequences.”

“There’s no way it’s that black and white. How did you set yourself up?”

“I—” he cuts himself off, debating what he can and can't tell her. He couldn’t tell her he fell for his best friend. She would know right away that he was talking about Jaemin. “I started to like someone who wasn’t my soulmate. Then today, she found her soulmate.”

“Oh, Jisung,” she whispers, and he can feel the sympathy in her voice.

Would she still care if she really knew who it was? The thought alone was enough to make tears fall from his eyes.

“It’ll be okay. At least the bandaid was ripped right off, right?”

“Yeah,” he sniffles. “I just wish I had more time to prepare for the bandaid to be ripped off.”

“I know my love. But you still have your soulmate out there. Maybe you’ll love her even more than this girl.”

He suppresses a scoff. He feels horrible lying to his mom like this; she’s been his best friend since he was young. Like with Jaemin, he tells her everything.

“Yeah, I’m sure I will.”

He can’t tell his mom everything, not this time at least.

---

“Can I sit?”

Jisung blinks once before turning his head to look up at you. You smile down at him, your hands held behind your back. He silently nods once before he turns his attention back to the water in front of him.

He knows he is being dramatic, but he can’t help it. The man he loves is out on a date.

“I got you this,” you say, bringing your hand out from behind your back as you sit down to hand him an ice cream bar.

He smiles weakly, taking the ice cream from your outstretched hand. “Thank you for this and for bringing the food into the tent for me. I’m sorry both of your friends aren’t being very fun after we practically dragged you on this trip.”

You shrug your shoulders, eyes trained on unwrapping the ice cream. “It’s okay. You’re not feeling very well, and on top of that, your best friend just found his soulmate. It can’t be easy.”

Jisung freezes slightly at the comment before forcing himself to unwrap the bar to make himself feel less suspicious. “Why would Hyung finding his soulmate make me feel bad?”

You smile softly, not looking away from the bar. “My best friend found his soulmate, and that was really hard on me. I mean, I knew I wasn’t the most important person in his life, but at least I was someone. And I still am someone, but I don’t matter as much as I used to. Me and him still talk almost every day, but when he first found her, after every conversation, there was this nagging thought of 'and now he goes back to his soulmate.'” You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “And maybe I’m being selfish. But at the same time, I’m used to being his go-to. And now that he has someone who can be there for him when I can’t—in more ways than one—I just felt this great sense of loss.”

Jisung nods his head, taking a bite of the bar to try and keep the tears from falling.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you continue. “I’m happy for him, and I can’t wait to meet her. I just hope that when I see her, this feeling I have of being replaced is gone.”

“Replaced. That’s a good word for it.”

You nod your head, turning your attention away from the bar and out to the water. “You know, my friend once told me something when I was talking to him about my worries. And to summarize, he told me how no one could fill my place. That Xiulan holds a place in his heart as his soulmate, a place I never had, nor could I ever fill. I don’t know if this will help you, but after about a week of sulking, that advice helped me. So it might not be okay right now, but maybe with this ice cream and some time, you’ll realize you haven’t lost him.”

Jisung silently nods his head, letting silence fall between you two. He appreciates you offering your advice, and he can’t explain how relieved he feels knowing you think he’s only sad because he lost a best friend. He’s also thankful he doesn’t have to go through this alone. He’s glad Jaemin made him befriend you.

“Thank you, y/n.”

You glance over at him, smiling softly before looking back out at the water. “Eat your ice cream before it melts.”

---

This has got to be the weirdest situation you’ve been in in a long time.

Jaemin, and his soulmate Ki, decided to have a “bonding breakfast” with her and her group of friends. So now, you and Jisung are sitting at a picnic table with her three friends while Ki and Jaemin make pancakes.

You and Jisung exchange a look as the three girls on the opposite side of the table continue to talk to each other. They had started off including you in the conversation, but they had somehow trailed off to some inside story that you and Jisung had no choice but to listen.

“So uh,” you start once you notice their conversation come to an end. “Do you guys live far from here?”

“Oh no,” Gaeun, a girl with short hair and a dazzling smile, answers. “We live like thirty minutes away. How far out are you guys?”

“We’re like three hours or so away,” you answer, nodding your head. After a few seconds of awkward smiling and eye contact, you turn around to look at Ki and Jaemin, silently wishing they would hurry up.

“So y/n, Jisung, what are your soulmate marks?” Kyungsoon, a beautiful girl who, despite the meaning of her name, was anything but mild.

“Mine is the tally mark one,” Jisung answers, and it surprises you how nonchalantly he answers.

If your past said anything, it was that, normally, this question wouldn’t bother you. In any other situation, one where your soulmate isn’t literally sitting right next to you, you would have been the first person to ask this very question.

But because your soulmate is sitting next to you, and he doesn’t know you’re soulmates, you find yourself freezing at the question.

“I-uh I don’t know mine yet,” you answer, rubbing your wrist under the table. After all, for the majority of your life, it wasn’t a lie.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Kyungsoon says, and you smile softly at the sincerity in her voice. “Maybe your mark is something like Ki’s, and you’ll know it when you see them.”

“Yeah, maybe. How about you guys?”

“Oh, I actually met my soulmate when I was in my last year of high school,” Kyungsoon gushes. She reminds you a lot of yourself, and given your current soulmate situation, it’s nice to see someone as romantic as yourself. “He’s the nicest man I’ve ever met. And he knows how to cook! Which, for me, is a lifesaver. I can’t cook to save my life.”

“That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you Kyungsoon.”

She smiles brightly. “Thanks y/n! I bet you guys will find your soulmates soon.”

Jisung laughs, drawing your attention away from the girl opposite you.

“Jisung?”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes with a bitter smile. “I just don’t know if I’m ready to meet my soulmate, and I don’t know if I ever will be. I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to interrupt. Soulmate conversations are just hard for me to have.”

“What? What do you mean?” you ask. You’re not sure if you want to hear what he has to say; the message was pretty clear the first time around. There is still a small sliver of hope that says maybe you’ve misunderstood.

“I just don’t know if I ever want to meet my soulmate,” he repeats, shrugging before he turns to look at Kyungsoon  “That’s not to say I’m not happy for you, because I am. I’m just one of those people who doesn’t think a soulmate is for them.”

The other girls nod their heads, saying something about how they can understand that. You can hear them talking, but the only thing that processes in your head is that if Jisung found out who you are, he wouldn’t want anything to do with you.

“My parents were like that too,” Lian, a quiet girl who is by far the calmest member of their group, adds. “They met when my dad was in China studying abroad and had me a year after they graduated; despite not being married or soulmates. When I was six or so, my dad found his soulmate when he was back here on a visit. I’m not saying this to force you to find your soulmate, but just keep in mind that if you chose to live like that, nothing is certain.”

Jisung smiles softly, nodding his head in acknowledgment. “Having a soulmate who values you isn't certain either.”

After his statement, a silence settles over the table. It takes everything in you not to continue to stare at him. You can feel the awkward atmosphere, and normally you would do something to try and fix it. Right now though, you can’t bring yourself to even care. All your thoughts are centered on the fact that Jisung doesn’t seem to want anything to do with you.

“Pancakes are ready!”

---

Jaemin isn’t quite sure what happened.

The breakfast had been nice. It was fun getting to know Ki and her friends better while also hanging out with his own. After they had walked back to their camp, you, Jisung, and he packed up the camp.

It is now twenty minutes into the drive, and he could tell something had happened. On the drive here, you and Jisung had fought over the passenger seat. The car ride had been filled with conversation, and he thought the drive had passed relatively quickly.

Now though, Jisung had silently taken the back seat, and after the first five minutes, the conversation between you and him had mostly stopped. He tried to pick it up again, but he knows when people aren’t in the mood to talk.

“Hyung, can we stop at the next rest stop? I have to use the bathroom,” Jisung quietly asks from the backseat.

“Yeah, of course,” he answers, smiling into the rearview mirror.

Jisung isn’t looking at him and is instead gazing blankly out the window. It hurt Jaemin, the way Jisung had asked the question. He has never heard Jisung use that tone of voice with him. He sounded so hollow.

When they got to the rest stop, Jisung practically jumped out of the car as soon as it stopped.

“Should we go buy some snacks?” He suggests, looking over to you.

You nod your head, unbuckling your seat belt. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Jaemin hates this situation. Yes, there is something wrong with Jisung. But now, as you’re walking into the store, he sees something is wrong with you too. He feels helpless because he has no idea what even happened, and no one is telling him anything.

“Do you, uh, do you know what’s wrong with Jisung?” he asks nervously, sending a quick text to Jisung telling him where you are.

You wait a few seconds to answer, which he takes as you definitely know what’s wrong with his best friend. Again, it hurts him that his best friend, and now you, are hiding something from him.

“Yeah, I do,” you start slowly, and he can tell you’re hesitant to tell him. “I don’t know if I should be telling you this, so don’t tell him I told you. But I think he just feels threatened by Ki. I think he’s worried you’ll replace him.”

Jaemin nods his head, taking in a deep breath. Why does there have to be a downside to one of the happiest moments of his life? He’s been looking forward to this day since he heard the song Daddy Issues by The Neighbourhood five years ago at his music club in high school.

Like most people in the club, he was shocked when the title had been translated into Korean. He felt almost embarrassed for the girl that brought it up, worried that she would be judged by the other members—despite them being the nicest people he’s ever met.

But when she explained that the song was about the lead singer struggling to deal with his dad’s death and about how he loved the girl for her problems, he was able to see why she loved the song. The idea that a person could love someone else for their problems was magical to him.

That was when he decided he was looking forward to meeting his soulmate. He knows that just because people are soulmates that doesn’t mean they don’t have their problems. That being said, soulmates are made for each other, and he wants someone who is made for him, who will love him for his problems.

“I appreciate you telling me, even if Jisung didn’t want me to know. I’ll talk to him about it when we get back.”

You nod your head, picking up a bag of chips. “I’ll just have these. Are you getting anything?”

He shakes his head, picking up a bag of chips he’s seen Jisung eat many times. “I’ll just get something for Jisung. He texted saying he didn’t want anything and is going to wait in the car. But I know him better. Hey y/n?”

You hum in response. Despite the minimal response, he’s glad you didn’t seem to mind his quick change in topic.

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean? There’s nothing wrong.”

“I don’t know. You just seem … different. Did Ki and her friends make it awkward or uncomfortable for you?”

“Oh no,” you shake your head, sending him a small smile before mindlessly looking at the different snacks. But the look on your face seemed tired—and not from a lack of sleep. “I just hate long car rides. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Ki and her friends, but it’s a bit tiring for me to socialize with people I don’t know that well first thing in the morning.”

“Oh, okay. Well, thank you for doing that for me. It means a lot.”

You smile softly, nodding your heads towards the cashier. “You don’t need to thank me. I enjoyed talking with them.”

Jaemin smiles, following you to the cash register. “Well, the snacks are on me, as a thank you.”

You smile softly in thanks before turning and watching as the cashier scans the items.

He doesn’t know you as well as he knows Jisung, but he thinks you’re lying. He knows when to push, and right now, before a two-hour drive, is not the time to push.

“Ready to go home?” he asks, handing you your bag of chips.

You smile tiredly, nodding your head in response. He smiles back, trying to ignore the sadness in your eyes.

---

“Hey, how was your trip,” Chenle asks after you exchange hellos.

“It was fun!” You lean back against the kitchen counter, crossing your legs. “It was nice having some time with them outside of school.”

“Oh, I bet. Anything fun happen? Any bear attacks?”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “You know it! There were five bear attacks.”

“Wow, that little? Normally it’s in the twenties. How lucky you three were.”

“I know right! And on top of not being attacked by a bear, Jaemin met his soulmate.”

The line goes silent, and you almost feel bad for changing the mood so fast. But Chenle’s your best friend, he’s always there for you, and you’re always there for him.

“Is Jisung okay,” he asks softly.

You shrug your shoulders. “He’s as okay as you can imagine.”

“And how about you? Are you okay?”

You sigh, rubbing your free hand over your face. “You know, in full honesty, I was happy. I mean, this was my chance to show him how worthy I am of being his soulmate. This was my chance, Chenle.”

“Then what?”

“Then he said he doesn’t want to meet his soulmate.”

He sighs, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I know I have this conversation with you all the time,” you take a deep breath and push back the tears in your eyes, “but why does this have to happen to me? I like to think that I’m a nice person, so why doesn’t my soulmate want me? I just-this isn’t fair.”

“Y/n no,” he coos softly. “It’ll be okay.”

“How Chenle, how? Because the person I have been waiting my whole life for just said he didn’t want me.”

“Y/n you were worried about the same thing when you found out about Jaemin. That turned out okay and so will this.”

In any other situation, you would appreciate his optimism.

“Come on, Chenle. I appreciate you listening to me, don’t get me wrong, but do you really think this will be okay? I mean, he said he didn’t want to meet his soulmate at all. Last time, you told me it would be okay because I had a place in his heart that couldn’t be filled. Now, though, I’m trying to win a place in his heart. He doesn’t even want me, Chenle.”

You take a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut. You hate everything about this situation. You have never liked drama, and ever since you met Jisung, your life has gotten more dramatic.

But he’s your soulmate; you love him.

“Okay y/n, listen. I know that right now, it seems impossible. But you believe in soulmates, right?”

You blink your eyes in shock. “Chenle I- yeah, of course, I do.”

“Then there’s your answer. He is your soulmate, y/n. He was made from the same star as you, and you have been with him for every single one of your past lives and will continue to be with him for your next lives. So maybe in this life, you guys just have a long story.”

You sigh, wiping your eyes. “Why me, though? I like to think I’ve been a good person, so why does my happy ending have to take so long?”

He laughs, and you can imagine he’s leaning back against the wall next to his bed. “Life has not been easy to us, has it?”

You chuckle, thinking about all the times you would stay at Chenle’s when your parents were too busy to look after you, or vice versa. High school had been the worst for both of you. It was when your parents decided you were old enough to look after yourselves and they could start taking more time-consuming projects.

You chuckle. “No, no, it wasn’t.”

“Do you remember that time when both our parents were gone, and you called me to come over because you were just having a horrible day? To be more specific, it was the first time I used the key to your house that you gave me. I opened the door, and the first thing I said was ‘sit down, I’m going to make you the best dinner you’ve ever had.’”

You chuckle. “Yeah, I remember. I’d had the worst day ever, and you put marina sauce on bread with cheese on top and called it pizza after cooking it in the oven.”

“And it was the best dinner of your life.”

“Whatever floats your boat.”

“You’re just in denial. Anyways, my point is, you’re going to be okay. You didn’t have parents around every day like most kids, but you came out just fine. And if your soulmate isn’t someone who sticks around every day, you’ll be okay too. There are other options.”

You scoff. You know what the other options are. They’re dating apps and bars made specifically for people whose soulmates had died or rejected them. Just like when you first read about your mark, you pitted the people who went there. And now, that person might be you.

“I know those options don’t seem very desirable, but if that’s what has to happen, then that’s what happens.”

“You’re right. I’m overthinking things.” You know you’re not unreasonably overthinking things; Chenle just has a way of seeing things simply. This is your soulmate, after all, the person you’ve been dying to meet since you could form a coherent thought.

“No, not really. I just have an outside perspective, so it’s easier for me to be objective,” he replies cheekily.

You smile, rolling your eyes at his attitude. “I raised you better than this.”

“Obviously not. How does it feel to fail?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

—-

“I’m sorry, what?”

To say Jisung is nervous would be an understatement.

This morning, you had sent him and Jaemin a text telling them they had to meet you at this café they had never heard of and that it was important. He had been the last to arrive, but judging from the fact Jaemin was still looking at the menu, he isn’t too late. He decided to sit next to you, and he tried to ignore the little glance Jaemin sent him over the menu.

It has been a month since Jaemin found his soulmate, and Jisung is still having a hard time adjusting. He knows Jaemin isn’t dumb, and he knows Jaemin noticed something was off about him. He just can’t force himself to be around him and act like everything is normal. It hurt too much.

“Listen, I know it’s fast,” you explain. “But my friend is coming back from China, and he didn’t tell me until this morning. He’s a very spontaneous person, and he said he wanted to meet you guys, and I was so excited at the fact that he’s back in the country that I just said yes.”

Jaemin chuckles, shaking his head slightly as he slides the menu across to him. “How come we’ve never heard of him? I didn’t even know you had a friend in China”

“Neither did I,” he adds, picking up the menu to see what drinks they have. Since he hadn’t known he was going to be meeting you today, he had already eaten.

“Okay, yes, but I have mentioned him to you, Jisung. He was the friend I was talking to when you scared me at the store.”

Jisung nods his head, not looking away from the menu. He remembers that friend, the friend who sounded like your soulmate but wasn’t. The fact that he’s about to meet someone so close to you without knowing anything about him worries him. What if he says something stupid to make your friend hate him, causing you to hate him?

“Fine, let me revise. Why haven’t I heard of him?” Jaemin asks, and Jisung can tell he’s smiling.

“Oh, I don’t know,” you look down towards your wrist before looking back up. “He just never came up, I guess.”

“Fine, then what is his—”

“Y/n?”

You and Jisung turn towards the voice before his attention is quickly drawn to you shooting out of your seat to hug a boy with light brown hair. “Chenle! Welcome back.”

Setting down the menu, Jisung slides out of his seat as quietly as he can and into the vacant seat next to Jaemin. Jaemin smiles softly at him, and Jisung quickly flashes him a smile before bringing his attention back to you and Chenle.

“It’s good to be back,” Chenle answers, and Jisung smiles softly at the way he hugs you tightly.

“I see you dyed your hair brown again,” you smile, backing out of the hug and ruffling his hair.

He smiles back at you, rolling his eyes. “I was telling Xiulan how much you liked my brown hair, and I realized how much I liked my brown hair, so I brought it back.”

You laugh, and Jisung notices how much happier you seem. “Well, you look nice. Now, before we make my friends uncomfortable,” you turn to face Jisung and Jaemin, your wide smile still present, “Chenle, this is Jaemin and Jisung. Jaemin and Jisung, this is my best friend, Chenle.”

“It’s nice to meet you two. Y/n has told me a lot about you both,” he says as you both sit down. Chenle smiles at them both, but Jisung notices the way his eyes linger on him longer than Jaemin.

Jisung smiles shyly back, breaking eye contact out of nervousness. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to meet you too. But I can’t say y/n has told me a lot about you. This is actually the first time I’m hearing about you,” Jaemin greets, and he doesn’t miss the teasing smile Jaemin sends you.

“What? Are you ashamed of me or something?” Chenle asks, poking you on the arm.

“Oh, you know it,” you respond, wacking his hand, “I knew they wouldn’t want to hang out with me if they knew I hung out with someone like you.”

Jisung and Jaemin chuckle softly at the bickering. It might be too early to tell, but Jisung is willing to bet with Chenle here, he’s going to see a new side of you.

---

“Thank you, sir,” Jisung thanks, handing the cab driver the amount owed.

Jisung isn’t sure he can do this. Sure, it had been fun hanging out with Chenle, and, at the time, he thought it would be fun to hang out with him again.

Now that he was standing in front of a house he has never been to, with the intention to go in and watch a movie with you and someone he met this morning, he’s having second thoughts.

Despite it being hard to be around Jaemin, he wishes more than anything that he was standing next to him now. Had he known Jaemin wasn’t able to make it, he probably wouldn’t have accepted. Maybe it was his own fault for being slightly distant from Jaemin recently, but he used to know when Jaemin was busy and when he wasn’t.

Sighing, he pulls out his phone and presses on your contact. “I’m here y/n,” he says as soon as you pick up.

You chuckle. “Hello to you too. Chenle's on the third floor, apartment 311.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

Sighing again, he hangs up the phone, shoving it back into his pocket before he pulls the door open. Tapping his finger against each other as he walks to the elevator, he pushes against the feeling that something bad is going to happen. He should have brought something, a gift of some kind. Isn’t it rude to show up at someone’s house without a gift of some kind?

Shaking his head, he pushes the up button on the elevator, stepping in a second later.

“It’ll be okay, Jisung,” he mumbles to himself, watching the red number at the top change. “Y/n’s there, and they won’t put you in an uncomfortable position. You’ll be fine.”

He finds himself repeating the last three words as the elevator dings open, and he begins walking in what he assumes to be the right direction. Judging by how the numbers on the door kept increasing, he’d say he made the right decision.

Soon, he finds himself in front of the door with 311 posted on the front. Taking a deep breath, he brings his fist up and knocks on the door three times.

“Welcome to the-“ Chenle announces as he opens the door.

“Lee household,” y/n finishes. Judging from the confused glance Chenle sends you, that wasn’t part of the plan.

“Thank you for inviting me here,” he responds, slowly walking into the room and placing his shoes with the others. “Are you sure I’m not overstepping? I’m sure you want to spend some time with your family.”

“Oh, don’t worry, you’re not,” Chenle answers, closing the door behind him and walking to the left.”My parents don’t get back for another two days. Your company is welcome.”

“What about me,” y/n responds. “I’m literally sleeping in the room across from yours. Am I not enough company for you?”

Chenle pokes his head from around the corner, looking you up and down, before shaking his head and letting out a simple, “Nah.”

You gasp dramatically, and Jisung watches in amusement as Chenle disappears behind the corner again.

"Can you believe the nerve of that guy?" you huff, leaning against the wall as you wait for Jisung to remove his shoes. "You're friends with someone for as long as you can remember, and this is how he treats you. Make a mental note, Jisung men aren't worth it."

Jisung chuckles. "Yeah, I'll be sure to remember that. I'm sure it'll help me tons in my life, you know, being a guy and all."

"Glad you agree! Now come this way, and follow me to the semi comfy couch."

"What did you say about my couch?" Chenle asks, watching as you both walk into the room.

"That's it's semi comfy," you answer, taking a seat next to him. "Ready to start?" you ask, patting the spot next to you and looking up at him.

“I’m just going to go to the bathroom first,” Jisung says awkwardly.

“Okay, it’s just down that hall and to the right. You’ll find it,” y/n answers, pointing to a hall on the other side of the room.

He walks towards the hallway, checking over his shoulder once to make sure he is going in the right direction. When you nod in reassurance, he turns the corner and is met with a short hallway with two doors. Pushing an already open door he assumes to be the bathroom further open, he’s met with a white bathroom.

“My mom would be so jealous of this room,” he mumbles to himself, closing the door behind him.

Coming out of the bathroom, he finds himself face to face with a photo of what he assumes to be Chenle’s family. Above the picture, the words “种 family” are printed in black letters.

Jisung tilts his head to the side in confusion. He can’t say for sure, but from what he remembers from the Hanja lessons at school, 种 doesn’t translate to Lee.

He doesn’t know what it translates to, so he takes a photo of it to check later. He feels like he’s overstepping, especially since Chenle invited him into his home despite only meeting him this morning. It just doesn't sit right with him; why would you lie to him?

“Y/n,” He hears Chenle whisper as he walks closer. The rest of the conversation is continued in fast English, making it hard to follow. Not that he’s trying to eavesdrop.

His presence in the room causes the conversation to end, and he freezes a second as they both look over at him. He smiles shyly, quickly walking towards the couch and taking the seat next to you.

“Ready to start?”

“Yeah, what are we watching?”

“Hope you like horror, Jisung, because that’s our favorite genre to watch together,” Chenle answers, scrolling through the movies on Netflix.

“Of course, if it really makes you uncomfortable, we can watch something else,” you add, smiling softly at him over your shoulder.

Jisung looks at the movie on the screen, a movie called Hush. “Um no, horror is good. I haven’t watched too many horror movies, so it’ll be nice to find out if I like them or not.”

“Good!” Chenle cheers, pressing play. “Then off we go!”  

--

“We’re soulmates.”

You blink back at him, the smile dropping off your face. “How’d you know?”

“You knew, didn’t you.”

Normally, Jisung isn’t this forward. He liked to word things carefully and do anything in his power to avoid confrontation. Normally, instead of meeting you outside your dorm building, he would’ve met you at a café or a park. Right now, however, he is too annoyed to take the time to be polite. You had lied to him.

You nod your head. “How did you find out?”

“There was a photo of Chenle and his family that said ‘Zhong family.’” He rolls up his sleeve to show you his tally mark. “Knowing that, the ZCL wasn’t too hard to understand. You really went on a date with your best friend?”

Your eyebrows raise in shock, and Jisung only barely notices the sharp tone in his voice. “Are you judging me?”

“No, no, I just better understand how you were able to give me such good advice about Jaemin.”

You laugh. “Listen, I don’t know why you’re being like this but you have no right. I have never had any interest in dating Chenle. I was able to give you that advice because while I may not love Chenle how you love Jaemin—which is fine, by the way—I do love him.”

Jisung is taken back with embarrassment. He feels naked now that you know about this part of him, and for a moment, he’s worried you’ll ridicule him. How did you even know? He hasn’t told anyone and he thinks he’s been relatively discrete about it. Then it clicks. You’re his soulmate. Again, he finds himself hating soulmates. If it weren’t for this, no one would know.

“You-you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You sigh. “Jisung, I’m—”

“Y/n,” he interrupts, his embarrassment fueling his anger. “I can’t see you anymore.”

“Wait,” you laugh humorlessly. “Let me get this straight, you’re deciding you can’t be around me anymore because I’m the person you’re supposed to spend the rest of your life with?”

“You don’t understand,” Jisung sighs. Despite the embarrassment, he knows he isn’t in the right to be annoyed or angry; but you don’t understand what he’s trying to do and it's furthering his annoyance. He’s trying to help you.

“You’re right, I don’t. Because there isn’t anything to understand. But please, tell me what you think I need to understand.”

“I don’t need to explain this to you, so if you can’t understand I’m sorry. But I never liked the idea of soulmates, okay? My parents are soulmates and they didn’t fit well together, they still don’t. There is nothing certain about them, so why do I have to spend my life looking for this one person when I don’t even know who they are? I want to get to know the person before I decide if I want to spend my life with them. Not because I’m supposed to be with them.”

You scoff. “You’re being selfish and contradicting your own logic. You got to know me before you found out we are soulmates.”

“Selfish?” he laughs. “How am I being selfish?”

“Because you’re deciding you’re more important than I am. You’re deciding that your feelings of ‘oh, my parents failed as soulmates so me and y/n will fail too’ is more important than anything I have to say. Instead of considering my side, which is, ‘I understand that Jisung is afraid, but I’m willing to work with him to realize it doesn’t have to go the way he thinks it will.’”

He scoffs. “I hardly think that’s being selfish.”

“Oh, you don’t? I’ve waited my whole life to meet my soulmate, and when I did, I found out he wants nothing to do with me. So you know what I do? I put my feelings aside, and I decide I’m going to prove to you that I’m worthy of being your soulmate. That if you still don’t want me after I’ve given my all, then I’ll respect your wishes and you’ll never have to think of me as your soulmate again. But you, you weren’t thinking about me when you decided this, and you’re still not thinking about me. If not selfish, then what?”

He shakes his head. “I’m not going to let you talk to me like this. We can talk more when you’re calmed down.”

You nod your head. “Okay, you do that. My words may be harsh, and maybe I could have worded this better, but none of it is false. So you go, think about what I said, and let me ‘calm down.’ Then later, you’re going to decide how you want this relationship to continue for the time being. Because I love you, Jisung, and I’m not going to give up on you yet. But if you come to me tomorrow and decide you don’t want me right now, then I’m done chasing after you for the time being. I need a break from being second best.”  

You and Jisung look at each other in silence before he takes a deep breath and turns away from you, quickly walking away from your dorm building.

---

When he gets back to his room, he quickly throws himself face-first onto his bed. He still can’t believe the conversation he just had with you. How could you not understand? He was trying to help you; he was trying to save you from a forced relationship.

Sighing, he flips around onto his back and pulls his phone out of his back pocket. Opening his contacts, he scrolls until he finds the one he’s looking for. Jaemin’s contact.

He knows he has been distant towards Jaemin, and he feels bad that he’s only starting to get close to him again because he needs his advice. Better now than never, right?

“Jisung!” Jaemin exclaims as soon as he picks up. “What’s up?”

“I was hoping I could talk to you about something.”

“Yeah, of course. What is it?”

Jisung sighs, the conversation still fresh in his mind. “Y/n and I are soulmates. They knew we’re soulmates and they didn’t even tell me.”

The line goes silent, and Jisung can imagine his friend is having a hard time deciding what he should say. “How do you feel about that?”

Jisung shrugs his shoulders, putting the phone on speaker before laying it on top of his chest. “Just as you imagine I would. I never wanted to meet my soulmate, and now I find out my soulmate is one of my best friends. How is that fair?”

“Well,” Jaemin starts slowly, and Jisung can tell he’s still having a hard time picking his words. “I can say that if I were in your shoes, I’d be happy. Not that I’m not happy with Ki, she seems very nice, I just mean it would’ve been even better had I been friends with her before.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jisung sighs. “You know me, and you know about my parents. So you know why I don’t want my soulmate. I’ve said this many times before, but there isn’t anything certain about soulmates so why should I have to spend my life with them?”

“Did you tell them that?”

“Yeah, I did. I told y/n I couldn’t see them anymore, and they then proceeded to call me selfish.” He complains.

“How so?”

“They said that by deciding that I didn’t want to meet my soulmate, I was only considering my feelings and not theirs. Which is something I decided when I was like 10, so I hardly think that qualifies as selfish. Plenty of people decide they want to meet their soulmates at 10 and they aren’t called selfish.”

Jisung can’t hide how annoyed he is. He knows he should try and explain things a bit more, or mention how you had been calm at first until he started arguing. But he didn’t want Jaemin to side with you. Even if he is wrong, which he can’t understand how he could be, he doesn’t want Jaemin to say it. He just wants someone on his side right now.

“Well that in itself isn’t selfish. Is that what they said was selfish?” “Well, no. They said I was selfish for not considering their point of view; by not giving us a try. But there is no us,” he laughs, “We’re not even dating! Why should I have to give us a try when, a, I never wanted to meet my soulmate, and b, I don’t have romantic feelings towards them right now. How is it selfish to not want to go on a date?”

“Of course it isn’t. I think they just mean it’s selfish not to look at their point of view. If y/n didn’t tell you right away, that must mean they were considering it might be fast for you and chose to wait. I think they’re just hoping you’ll do the same.”

“But why do I have to give up this thing that I’ve held so close to me since I was little. I watched my dad treat my mom like she wasn’t the person ‘made from the same star’ as he was. He acted like we were just there. Which, yeah, I guess I should be glad he never physically hurt us. Jaemin, he doesn’t care about us. And I’m worried that if I find my soulmate—who is y/n, a friend—then we’re just going to end the same way. I mean, I may not like it, but half of me is from my dad. What if the same thing that is in him, the thing that makes him not care, has passed down to me and by the time y/n realizes it, it’s too late for them to leave. So I don’t think it’s fair that y/n thinks I’m being selfish when I’ve said everything I’ve said for them. It isn’t fair.”

Jisung takes a deep breath. He hadn’t expected to talk to Jaemin about this, but he’s glad he is. While he may not be able to talk to Jaemin about everything—mostly him being bisexual—he is glad he can talk to him about soulmates. Frankly, nothing scares him more than meeting his soulmate. It made him think about his dad; made him wonder how much like him he really was.

“So this is a fear thing, you know that right?”

“Well, no, not exactly,” Jisung pauses, thinking over what he just said before sighing. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Okay, then I think you should tell y/n that. I imagine they would be willing to work with you on that.”

“I don’t know if I want to do that.”

Jisung can imagine he’s tilting his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t want to work through it. This particular thing has never been a problem for me until now. And it’s only a problem because it’s my soulmate. So if I just keep my distance from them—like I said I would—then I don’t have to fix myself.”

This, Jisung knows, is extremely selfish. But he doesn’t care. Why should he have to change who he is because he’s scared of one person? Why can’t he just save himself time and avoid the root of this fear?

“Jisung,” Jaemin sighs. “Do I have to tell you what’s wrong with that?”

“No, you don’t. I just don’t understand why I have to be the adult and change my whole way of thinking for this one person.”

“Y/n isn’t just a person, they’re your friend. Relationships are the same thing as friendships; you have to work together in order for them to work. Now, I don’t know everything about the situation, but from what you’ve told me and from what I’ve seen, they’ve been trying to work with you. Don’t you think it’s fair that you work with them as well?”

Jisung sighs again, bringing his hands up to rub his face. His annoyance is gone and it’s been replaced with tiredness. Jaemin has a point. “I-I know what you mean. I’m just so tired.”

“Tired? Tired of what?”

“I feel like I always have to change myself. I know it isn’t a bad thing to work on yourself, I just don’t know if I have the energy to change myself even more. This year has been so hard on me; so much has changed in my life. I’m just so tired of having to change myself.”

Jaemin hums and Jisung can imagine he’s nodding his head. “Yeah, change is hard. But if you do the work now, imagine how much better you’ll be in the future. I know this is something you’ve held onto since you were young, but at the same time, y/n has had it in their mind that they’d meet their soulmate and live happily ever after. They changed their thinking and were able to accept that it wouldn’t go the way they thought it would.”

Jisung knows he’s being selfish—now that it’s being thrown back in his face. “Alright, thank you for talking with me Jaemin. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem,” Jaemin pauses, and Jisung can tell he has more to say. “And Jisung?”

He hums in response.

“It was really nice talking to you again.”

Jisung closes his eyes. “Yeah, it was nice talking. I’m sorry I’ve been so distant from you lately. Like I said, a lot has changed and it’s just been hard adjusting.”

“Well if you ever want someone to talk to about that change, I’m here for you.”

“I will, thank you Hyung.”

---

“Long time no see.”

Jisung chuckles awkwardly, looking down at his cup. “Yeah, I’m sorry it took so long for me to get back to you.”

“No, it’s okay,” you smile softly. Honestly, the three days it took for Jisung to finally message you had been filled with worry. You thought he was never going to get back to you.

“So uh, I thought about our conversation,” he starts, slowly looking up from his cup. “And I just wanted to talk some more before we … decide anything.”

You nod your head, leaning forward in your chair. “Yeah, totally. Go ahead.”

“First, I want to apologize for how I talked to you once I found out. I was hurt because you lied to me, and I was,” he pauses, shaking his head and sighing, “embarrassed you knew about me and Jaemin. So I’m sorry that I used that tone with you, and I want to know what I can do to make it up to you.”

You open your mouth to respond but nothing comes out. No one, when apologizing, had ever asked you what they could do to make it up to you. That, paired with the sincere look in his eyes, gave you butterflies, and you found yourself struggling to answer. “Um, you don’t need to do anything. The fact that you’re even asking me what you can do to make it better is enough for me. It means the world to me.”

“Okay, I’m glad,” he smiles. “But if you think of anything let me know. Now I hope you’ll be patient with me during this part. The apology part is the only thing I really prepared for, so I hope you don’t mind me rambling like an idiot.”

“No, of course not. Take your time.”

He takes a deep breath, flashing you a quick smile. “So the first thing I want to talk about is what you want from this relationship. Because you know that I’m … a little hesitant to meet my soulmate and start a romantic relationship. So where are you hoping this will go?”

“If I’m being completely honest, years down the road, I want us to be together and have a family of sorts. Whether that family is kids or dogs, cats, or hamsters, I don’t care. But I can imagine that’s scary for you, so we can take it slow if you want. We continue to stay friends until you’re ready for more.” you take a deep breath, bringing your hands up to wrap around your cup, eyes looking down into the liquid. “Or, if you can’t see yourself even being around me, I can try and get used to the idea that you truly don’t want me. But I meant what I said, I don’t want to give up on you yet. I’ll give you some space and time, and then I’ll try again.”

Jisung nods his head, an emotion you think could only be ununderstanding clouding his eyes. “And this might be weird, but you said you loved me? Do you really?”

You nod your head. “Yeah, I’ve loved you since I was little. As soon as I was able to comprehend soulmates, I knew I loved you. And when I met you, before I found out we were soulmates, I thought you were cute. The way you were so nervous about having dropped that coffee on me was precious and reminded me of myself, and it just made my day better overall. When I found out we were soulmates, it was the first day we went out—all three of us to your friend's dad’s restaurant—was so sad because you loved someone else. I still loved you though it didn’t change how I felt about you. Then once I got to actually know you, my feelings were confirmed? I don’t know, that sounds weird. I just had this faith that you would be a good person, and once I met you, I was sure I was right.”

He blinks at you. “But-but I don’t understand. And maybe it’s because I never intended to meet my soulmate, but how could you love this person you’ve never met?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t think everyone thinks the way I do. I think if you asked Jaemin or Chenle if they loved their soulmate before they met them, they’d say no. It’s just a me thing. I have faith that the universe put us together for a reason, and because we’re connected, I’m going to love you. Had you turned out to be a jerk, I probably wouldn’t love you now. But you’re a nice kid, Jisung, so I still have that love for you. I hope I don’t sound too weird.”

“No, no, you don’t,” he quickly denies. “It’s just I grew up watching two people—two soulmates—not love each other. I mean, my dad didn’t even seem to care most of the time. So I grew up thinking that soulmates didn’t work out like people said they did.”

“I’m sorry, that must’ve been hard.”

“It was what it was. I mean, that isn’t something I normally tell people, but I want you to understand I’m not doing it to hurt you. So can we stay friends? I’m not saying we’ll never be together. Right now, it’s just hard for me to say that I’m ready to be my soulmate’s other half.”

For a second, neither of you says anything. You can tell he’s nervous, and you mentally applaud him for keeping his composure. “Of course, I don’t mind staying friends, Jisung. Whatever you need to do.”

He lets out a relieved sigh before he pushes himself up from his chair and walks over to awkwardly hug you. “Thank you for understanding.”

You hug him back, gently squeezing him. He’s the love of your life; what’s the rush?

—-

“Y/n will you please come to the lounge of my dorm?”

“Yeah, sure. Is everything okay? You sound off.”

“I’ll explain when you get here. I just need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay, I’m on my way. I’ll be there in like 5 minutes.”

Once the line goes dead, Jisung leans back in the chair, running a hand over his face.

Jisung isn’t sure why he called you. In the past three months since he told Jaemin about you being his soulmate, they had slowly become normal. Jisung will still get pangs of sadness now and again when thinking about Ki and Jaemin, but it’s better than before. Since he and Jaemin are okay again, why didn’t he call him? He’s who he would normally call.

“Jisung, hey. What’s wrong?” You greet as you set your bag down and sit in the chair across from him.

“My dad died.”

He watches as you freeze before you blink slowly. “I’m so sorry.”

He shrugs his shoulders, averting his eyes to look out the window. “I didn’t even know him that well, you know? And then my mom calls me crying and tells me that he died because of a drunk driver.” He takes a deep breath. “I guess I just thought one of these days, when I’m older, I’ll finally get to know why he never bothered to stay around when I was growing up. That I’ll be able to tell him how well I’m doing despite how little he was around, and he’ll tell me that he’s sorry.” Jisung chuckles, shaking his head. He can feel tears start to well behind his eyes. “If you had known him, you would know that’s so unrealistic. Just a fantasy.”

Your face softens, and you nod your head. “That’s not a dumb thing to wish for. I don’t blame you for wanting your dad to show that he loves you.”

He nods, biting his lip. “All my life, I’ve never thought of myself as lacking. My mom was all I needed, and I didn’t need a man to teach me how to be one. But now that he’s dead, it just hurts. And I don’t know why it hurts, and I think that’s why I feel as upset as I do.”

Jisung looks at you with what he can only imagine are pleading eyes. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, he just hopes you have it.

“I’ll be honest, Jisung, I don’t know what to say. Both my parents were as loving as they could have been, despite being gone a lot. If I had to guess, though, it hurts because even if you weren’t close with your dad, he’s still half of you. He was also in your life every day.”

Jisung nods his head once before tipping his head back. Just yesterday, if you asked him about his dad, he wouldn’t have hesitated to say said he didn’t want to talk about it. He wouldn’t even feel bad saying he was a jerk.

Now that he’s dead, he doesn’t know what he can say. Of course, he isn’t going to lie and say he was a great dad, but something feels unresolved.

“I think I feel guilty,” he admits, bringing his eyes back to focus on you.

“About what?”

“I feel guilty that he died, maybe thinking I hated him.” He shuts his eyes as a few tears escape his eyes, and he quickly wipes them. “I don’t hate him.”

A silence sets over you two, and Jisung suddenly realizes how unfair it is of him to suddenly dump this on you.

“I’m sorry-“

“I didn’t know your dad,” you say, cutting him off, “so I can’t say for sure what he thought. Even if I had met him, I wouldn’t be able to say. But unless he was completely delusional, then he was able to see what a good kid you are. If he saw that, then he’d know you didn’t hate him. You should talk to your mom about it. She knows your dad better than anyone—I mean, assuming you’re not close to his parents.”

“Yeah, okay. Would you-would you come with me? When I go back home later today?”

You nod your head. “My last class ends at 2:30 pm. Can you wait until then?”

Jisung nods his head. He’s stopped crying, but he can imagine his eyes look glossed over. “Yeah. I’m not going today so I can meet you outside your class. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, let me just send you the classroom number so you remember where it is,” you respond, pulling out your phone. His eyes are drawn to your wrist and to the black line drawn across it.

He’s noticed that recently you have stopped hiding it. Before, you used to wear long sleeves or cover it with make-up. It was weird seeing the initials of his ex-girlfriend written in black across your skin. Next to the black line is the scar with Jaemin’s initials.

“I’m sorry.”

You tilt your head to the side, setting your phone on the table in front of you. “Oh, I don’t mind. I’m happy to come back with you and be there for you. You’re someone I really care about.”

“No, not that. I don’t know why I wasn’t more specific about that. I just mean, I’m sorry about the scar on your arm. From me.”

You raise your hand, twisting it around to look at the scar on the inside of your wrist. “You can’t help who you fall in love with,” you whisper, dropping your wrist. Taking a deep breath, you smile at him, hoping to show that it doesn’t bother you as much anymore. “It’s okay. The actual scar didn’t hurt for long.”

“Yeah, but I wish I weren’t this way. I mean, if I were normal, I wouldn’t draw attention to myself, and you wouldn’t have that scar on your wrist.”

“What do you mean ‘draw attention to yourself?'”

Jisung sighs, looking away from you. “I loved Jaemin, and I liked Gaewon. That’s different than normal. And since I’m that way, I’ll have to tell people, and then they’ll have it in the back of their mind whenever they talk to me that I like both men and women. That I’m bisexual.” He whispers the last part, not even wanting to say the word bisexual.

He’s never said the words “I’m bisexual” out loud before, and he never knew words could be so hard to say. He remembered when he finally decided on a label; he was so happy he almost cried. Here was this label that perfectly described what he felt, and here was this community of people who were telling the same story he was living.

After a few days, however, he found the joy slowly start to seep away. He identifies with the label, yes, but he hates it. Since he found out, he would go through different periods where he was okay with who he was and periods where he hated his label. His whole life, he has never wanted to stand out. Now though, he’ll stand out to anyone who knows. Which, right now, is one too many.

“If it’s any consolation, I’ve known about this side of you for as long as I’ve known we’re soulmates, and I’ve never thought of you any different because of it. You’re the same Park Jisung that spilled coffee on me. If I ever thought about you loving Jaemin, it was never thoughts of disgust or judgment. Maybe jealousy, but never judgment.”

He looks at you, watching your face for any hints of dishonesty. He sighs, averting his eyes. “Thank you y/n. I didn’t mean to talk about this today; I guess I got carried away on the emotion train. But I’ll see you at 2:30?”

You nod your head, smiling softly at him. “Yeah, sounds good. Call me or Jaemin if you need anything else.”

---

You glance over to the boy sitting next to you, nervously bouncing his leg. He seemed different than when you met him that morning; more nervous.

“Is everything okay?”

He glances over at you before returning his gaze to look out the subway window across from your seats. “I just haven’t been back in a long time. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mother very much. It was just too weird with him there. But it will still be just as weird. On top of that, I’m coming back home with my soulmate who I haven’t told her is my soulmate, and I feel bad lying to her. I just feel like if I tell her, there will be some kind of pressure on us to act like traditional soulmates. Which I know is something you want, so then I circle back to feeling this pressure that isn’t even there. Now I’m stress rambling.”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “You’re okay, Jisung. Let’s take that apart point by point. No matter what you do, going back right now is going to be weird. But if you go now, it won’t be as stressful in the future; and that is something to look forward to. Now about us being soulmates. You don’t need to tell her if you don’t want to, but if you feel bad lying, just tell her the truth. And the truth is that we’re waiting for our relationship to develop more before we do anything else. You don’t need to feel bad about jumping straight into a relationship with me because you think that’s what I want to do. What I want to do is whatever you want to do.”

He sighs, ruffling his hair in what you assume to be stress. “But I’m worried you’re just saying that because you know that’s what I want to hear. You can be honest with me. I can take it.”

“I am being honest!” you laugh. “Trust me, Jisung, if I were the type of person to try and force you into a relationship, you’d know.”

He smiles. “Yeah, okay, I’m sorry. I’m letting the stress get to me.”

“Yes, yes you are.” You pat his knee.

---

“This is it,” Jisung whispers as you come to a stop outside an apartment door.

You turn your head to look at him, rubbing his arm in comfort. He sighs, shakily pressing in the code. He rests his hand on the handle, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open. “Mom, I’m back. I brought a friend with me too.”

“Jisung!” his mom laughs. She walks around the corner, wiping her eyes. “You should have told me you were bringing someone! I would’ve cleaned myself up a bit. Hi, I’m Jisung’s mom.”

You smile, bowing in greeting. “Don’t worry about it, Mrs. Park. You look just fine. My name is y/n.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you. But you don’t have to lie.” She smiles briefly before turning to Jisung. Her eyes start to water as soon as they meet his, and you move out of the way so she can hug him. “It’s been so long.”

“I know, mom,” he says, hugging her back. “I’m sorry it took me so long to come back.”

She pulls back, giving him an adoring smile. “Are you guys hungry? It’s around lunchtime, isn't it? Want me to make you something?”

“No, mom,” he shakes his head. “Let’s go out to eat. I imagine you need to get out of the house.”

“No, no, I’m okay,” her voice breaks, and a few more tears escape from her eyes. “Really. I’m okay.”

Your heart breaks, and you smile softly. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Park, that’s on my part. I told Jisung I wanted to take you out to eat since it’s my first time meeting you.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that.” She dabs at her eyes.

“But I want to! Your son and his friend are the only close friends I have, and I want to show you my gratitude for bringing him into this world. He really is an important person to me, and it’s important to tell people that you’re grateful for them.”

She blinks at you a few times, more tears streaming from her eyes. “That’s—thank you for saying that. As a mother, that is the best thing I could ever hear.”

You smile softly. “So you’ll let me take you and your son out to eat?”

She smiles, sniffling. “Yes, of course, I will. Let me go freshen up, and then we can go! Jisung, show our guest to the living room.”

He nods his head. “Yeah, right this way.”

You send his mom a smile before following him to the living room. He sits down on the blue couch across from the tv, patting the spot next to him.

“Thank you for covering for me. I didn’t know how I was going to come back from that,” he says softly, staring blankly ahead.

“No problem. And I meant what I said. I’ve been trying to let people know when I’m grateful for them, and I’d say I’m grateful you’re alive. It’s the least I can do, especially after her loss.”  

“That’s all?”

You tilt your head to the side, laughing at the silly question. "What do you mean ‘that’s all?' What other reason could there be?”

He smiles, shaking his head. “Nothing, never mind.”

“Okay, weirdo.”

“You know, when I was in high school, my mom and I used to watch TV here every night while we ate dinner.”

You smile softly, looking around the room. “Really? That sounds nice.”

He nods his head. “It was. She said she wished we could do family dinners, but they made her feel awkward because it was never something her family did.”

“I get that. As someone who had family dinners whenever both my parents were home, there could be some awkward dinners. Especially after a fight.”

“Yeah, I can imagine,” he sighs. “We’ve always been so close, y/n, so why am I having such a hard time coming up with things to say to her?”

“Because this is an extremely hard thing to deal with,” you answer. “I don’t know what I’m going to say to one of my parents when the other one dies other than that I’m here for them. But I won’t be in the situation you’re in now. You have to figure out how to ask your mom about your dad. My parents may not have been around a lot either, but I know they loved me and I know the type of people they are.”

He leans his body against the couch, sliding down so his head is resetting against the top of the cushion. “When should I ask? Is right now too soon?”

“I don’t know, Jisung. Maybe you should spend some time with her and see where she’s at? But I don’t think waiting is going to help anything either. If you can spend the night, I would do that. Then you don’t have to feel like there’s any type of rush.”

"Would you,” he hesitates, turning his head to look at you. His eyes look so tired. “Would you be able to stay with me?”

You open your mouth, ready to tell him you have work early in the morning and would only make it if you left before they work up. But the longer you look at his eyes, the more you can tell he needs you. You smile softly, nodding your head. “You’re lucky tomorrow is Saturday. Let me just call into work and tell them a family member passed away.”

His eyes widen, and he pushes himself back into a sitting position. “No, you don’t have to do that for me.”

“Nonsense. You’re my family, so therefore he was my family. I’d do the same for Chenle or Jaemin, assuming they didn’t ask someone else. Well, I’d do it for Chenle whether he asks or not, I’m afraid I love him too much.”

He smiles, not breaking eye contact. You try to give him what you hope is a comforting smile, finding it hard not to let it turn into a shy smile. There wasn’t anything different about the way he was smiling at you—it always made your heart skip a beat.

Ever since Jisung told you he would be willing to take it slow with you, you have found that his smiles are more heart-fluttering, and his normal characteristics are more charming. For the first time in your life, you understand what it means to have a crush on someone.

"Okay, I'm ready to go!" Mrs. Park announces, walking into the room, digging around in her purse for something. "Where were you thinking of going?"

"Wherever your favorite restaurant is," you answer, pushing yourself off the couch.

She laughs. "Okay, how about we go to your favorite restaurant, Jisung? The Italian one?"

"Yeah!" Jisung answers, and you jump slightly at how unexpectedly close he was. "I haven't been there in forever."

"Italian it is then! Let's go."

--

Jisung doesn’t know what to feel.

He didn’t think he’d be able to sleep tonight. After he got the call from his mother about his dad’s death, he knew he was going to be up all night thinking about their time together and how unnecessarily mean he had been at times. Because of you, however, he had the strength to ask his mom questions he otherwise would have never asked. Because of you, he was able to hear that his father loved him the best way he knew how. That his mother had known him for a very long time, had seen his relationships with other people, and knew that his dad loved him more than anyone in the world. She showed him a box of memories his father had been saving for when he turned 21. Inside were photos of him from when he was younger.

She told him she thought he was a very sad man. She thinks he wanted to love her, but he couldn’t. She doesn’t know why, and when he asked what made her think such a thing, she just shrugged.

“I know how it looked, Jisung-ah,” she had said. “He did stay out late, he sometimes stayed out for days on end, and he felt distant from us. I know sometimes it felt like he was just this person instead of a father. Believe me, sometimes it didn’t even feel like I was married. I can’t explain it exactly, but I just got the feeling he wanted to love us but couldn’t. Maybe it was the box he made me promise to never tell you about or the new toys that would sometimes appear out of nowhere when you were a kid or the gifts that would be mailed to my office on our wedding anniversary or my birthday that makes me think this. I think he knew what was right, but he just didn’t feel those things, and I think that made it hard for him to be around us.”

While that didn’t make the past better, and he still holds a little resentment towards his dad for treating his mother so poorly, he thinks he might be able to better come to terms with his death. Even though he doesn’t know if he can say his dad was a good dad, he might be able to say he did his best.

In the end, his mom thinks his dad loved him. When he had tearfully asked her if she thought his dad thought he hated him, she told him that she doubted the thought had ever crossed his mind.

So when he set off to bed tonight, even though he wasn’t excited to share a bed with his mother—he had found out at a pretty young age that he hated sharing a bed with people—he thought he would be able to sleep tonight. That because the thoughts of his father weren’t taking up as much space in his mind as they used to, he would be okay. The thoughts of you, however, are loud enough to keep him up.

He has told himself that there can never be anything between you two because you’re soulmates. He had planned to let this continue until the end of college, where you would both go your separate ways, and he would try and let you down in a way that didn’t make you completely hate him. But lately, you’ve been turning his plan upside down.

He isn’t sure when exactly the plan started to go astray, but he does know that today was the wake-up call he needed to see things weren’t going how he planned. Maybe it was because of how emotional today was that he is suddenly feeling a strong pull towards you. He just knows that the way you helped him with his mom, the way you dropped everything to stay the night with him, and the way you constantly made him feel loved makes him want to spend every second of the day with you.  

“Shit,” he whispers, quickly covering his mouth and turning his head to see if he woke his mother up.

Falling for someone has never scared him before. Granted, he doesn’t have that much experience, the two times he had done it hadn’t scared him. Sure, falling for Jaemin had been worrying at times, but it never scared him. This—you—terrified him.

He wasn’t supposed to catch feelings for you. Hell, he wasn’t even supposed to meet you. Jisung sighs, flipping onto his other side and hugging the blanket closer to himself. He focuses on the warmth of his mother next to him and on trying to hear her breathing. He’ll deal with this tomorrow.

---

“Good morning dear, y/n made breakfast.”

Jisung freezes in place, looking between you and his mom sat at the small dining table.

“There’s some food in the pan on the stove. Grab a bowl and come join us,” his mom suggests, pulling out the chair between you two and smiling up at him.

He slowly nods his head, looking between you both once again before turning around towards the pan. “What is it?”

“It’s eggs and tomato. It’s one of Chenle’s favorite dishes, and I learned how to make it the other day,” you answer. “I was told I wasn’t allowed to leave until I got the recipe down. So since I had to deal with Chenle lovingly criticizing my every move, I thought, why not try it out on you two.”  

“Chenle, that’s an interesting name. Are they your soulmate?”

“No, he’s just their friend,” Jisung answers, staring down as he sets his plate on the table and takes the seat next to his mom.

He looks up as he scoots his chair closer to the table, quickly averting his eyes as he makes eye contact with you. He doesn’t miss the strange look you give him.

“Oh, okay. Sorry I assumed. I just thought that because you knew his favorite food, you must be soulmates. But thinking about it now, he could’ve also been your sibling,” his mom laughs.

“It’s okay, Mrs. Park. He and I are very compatible—sometimes it surprises me that we aren’t soulmates.”

She laughs, reaching over to pat your hand. “Well, I’m glad to hear that you have such a good friend. Jisung here has never bothered to bring the infamous Jaemin over. I have no way of knowing if my Jisung is in good hands.”

Jisung looks at his mother, holding her stare as she smiles at him. He knows she’s trying to embarrass him; she never talks like this. He squints slightly at her—he isn’t going to let her win.

You laugh, and he breaks eye contact with his mom to look over at you.

“Having met Jaemin, I can assure you he and Jisung are just as compatible as me and Chenle. He’s a great match for Jisung.”

“Well, if you’re any indication in his choice of friends, then I’m sure he’s great. It’s been a joy getting to know you, and I really appreciate you being here for my son. Speaking of,” she turns her attention away from you and looks at him, her eyes changing from teasing to sad. “I think I’m going to spend a few weeks with my mom. It’s—” she pauses, looking around the room. “It’s too hard being here.”

Jisung tilts his head to the side, setting his spoon down. “Of course, mom. Do you need me and y/n to help you pack some stuff?”

She shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. I only ask that you stay here with me until I’m done packing. I’m used to the house being quiet, but this is too much.”

You nod your head. “Yeah, of course. When you sleep in someone’s room, you get a sense of who they really are. And I have some questions for your son.”

Jisung scrunches his nose, and before he can respond in some sarcastic way, his mother interrupts him.

“I think that’s a great idea. You guys hang out, Jisung, show your friend the photo album, and then we can all leave together!”

He nods his head, smiling softly at his mom. “Okay, yeah, that’s a good idea.”

She smiles at you two before she pushes back the chair and walks to her room. Jisung lets a silence settle between you two for a second before he takes a deep breath and picks up his bowl. “Ready to go?”

You nod your head, pushing back your chair and following him to his room.

“Was the bed comfortable?”

“Yeah, thanks again for letting me take your bed.”

He nods his head, turning the knob and pushing open the door. “No problem. You’re already doing me a huge favor by staying here with me. The least I can do is let you sleep in an actual bed. Now have a seat on the bed. There was something I wanted to show you, so this is a good chance to show you.”

You nod your head, taking a seat on his bed and crossing your legs. He sets his bowl on the ground before walking over to his dresser and pulling out a photo book from the bottom drawer. He takes a seat next to you on the bed, setting the book between you two before bending forward to pick his bowl back up.

“This is my own photo album. I don’t think my mom even knows about this one.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Why doesn’t she know about it?”

He shrugs, taking a bite of his food. “I started it as a way for me to have my own album. When I was younger, I loved looking through my mom’s photo albums, and I wanted to start one for my future kids. One day, I was going through photos with her, and she threw away some photos she didn’t like. But those photos were important to me, so when she left the room, I took them from the trash and kept them here.”

“That’s sweet, Jisung.”

He shrugs. “You can look through it.”

Jisung hasn’t looked through this album in forever. Granted, when he was younger, he only ever looked through it when adding a new photo—which wasn’t often. This time, however, until this morning, he forgot he even had this album. He watches as you flip through the album, smiling at the photos of his first cat and some photos when he went to camp.

He lets his eyes drift from the album up to you. You’re smiling down at the album, commenting on how cute he was as a kid. Sitting here with you feels like something from a movie. He is sitting with you, on his bed, him finishing his breakfast and you wearing one of his shirts and pajama pants—they were technically his dad’s, but they had been put in his room a long time ago, and he never bothered to give them back—and he’s showing you something he’s never shown anyone. It feels surreal.

He puts the spoon in his mouth without any food and lets it hang there, hand still holding onto the handle. His thoughts from last night suddenly come rushing back, and he feels slightly anxious. He's falling for you, and he is slowly accepting that. But now that he's starting to accept that, he feels anxious not telling you. At the same time, the idea of telling you makes him anxious. He inwardly sighs, why is life so hard?

“Hey, Jisung,” you say, lightly touching his arm. “Is the spoon better than the food?”

He shakes his head and takes the spoon out of his mouth. “Hum? What do you mean?”

You laugh softly. “I asked you a question, and you didn’t answer. So I looked up, and you were just sitting there with a spoon in your mouth. I tried to make a joke, but I’m not very funny.”

“Oh, no, sorry. The food was great, all of Chenle’s loving nagging paid off. It’s just a thing I do when I finish my food, and I guess I got lost in thought. What was your question?”

“I was just asking who this was,” you answer, pointing to a photo.

“Oh, that’s Eunseong, one of my mom’s old friends.” He smiles down at the photo. It was a photo of him, his mom, and Eunseong looking for a Christmas tree. “He lived with us for a while.”

“Can I ask why?”

“When I was in fifth grade, my dad got transferred down to Busan for a year. Not that my dad helped all that much, but mom thought she needed more help so she invited Eunseong to live with us for a year. I think she just wanted to have someone you know? This was one of the photos she threw out.”

“What? Even though it is none of my business, why did she do that? You all look so happy.”

“Well, he felt like I did about my dad and wanted my mom to leave him. His soulmate had died, and I think he had feelings for her. Anyways, I remember there being this argument where he said that if she didn’t leave my dad, then he was done with us. They thought I was asleep, it was like five am so I was supposed to be. I remember her crying and nothing else. But the next few days he was still there and I thought it would be okay. Then, like a week before my dad came home, they got into another fight. I’m not sure what this one was about, but it was really bad. He yelled at her, and then he just left. He just left her, crouched on the floor and bawling her eyes out. I didn’t know what to say, so I just sat there with her. I decided then that I wouldn’t miss him. He came back the next day while I was at school, grabbed his stuff, and left.”

A silence settles over you two once again, eyes never leaving the photo.

“I’m sorry,” you finally say. “That sounds hard. But why would you want to keep this photo?”

“He was still part of my life. He was only with us for one year, but he actually ate with us on the couch. And while I’ve never thought I needed a constant father figure in my life, he was the closest thing I had to one. I remember that year when we were making gifts for our parents on parents day, I told the teacher I had two dads—one stepdad and one dad,” He shakes his head, trying to get his thoughts back on track, “Anyway, the point of the story was to say that while I may not have liked him at the end, he was still an important part of my life. And I think it’s important to remember him.”

“I agree with you. I think it’s important to remember even the hurtful memories. They help us grow.”

He nods his head in agreement. “I even have some of my parents' wedding photos; despite my mother hating how she looks in them. Of course, she still has some in her albums, but none of them are out to see. I think she looks beautiful in them.”

He turns the page and finds the photo of his mom and dad at their wedding. The photo he has is one of his favorites; one where his mom and dad are standing next to their parents. He always loved this photo because his mother looked so radiant. Aside from that, the idea that there was once a time his mom and dad were happy is something he’s always dreamed about. He knew, however, that the smiles in the photos weren’t one hundred percent genuine on his mother’s part. She always mentioned how stressed she was when planning it and that she was glad she never had to do it again.

“She is beautiful,” you agree.

“My dad looks so young,” he comments quietly.

“He’s very handsome. I guess you take after him.”

“No, I don’t look like either of my parents. My mom says I have his eyes, but I’ve never been able to see it.”

“Okay, be that as it may, I was just trying to compliment you on your looks and you should take the compliment.”

You laugh softly, and normally, Jisung would’ve laughed with you. This time, he just looks at you. The more he thinks about it, the more you and Jaemin have similar characteristics. You both care for him, you both have that teasing attitude (although Jaemin is more… aggressive with his actions), and you both mean the world to him. He thought that once he found out you were his soulmate, he would realize how incompatible you two are; how unfit you two are to be a couple.

Being here with you, watching as you cared for him and his mother in little ways, has made him realize how close to perfect you two could be.

“Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry if I did.”

“No, it’s not that. I just think—”

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” his mom says, poking her head into the room. “but I think I should let you two know I’ll be ready to leave soon so if you want to leave with me you might want to change now. Of course, you guys can stay after I leave, I just thought I’d let you two know.”

“Are you okay with leaving with her or do you want some more time to get ready?” He asks turning his attention back to you.

“We can leave with you, Mrs. Park. Let me just go get changed, I’ll do the dishes, and then I’ll be ready to go.”

“Oh you don’t have to do the dishes,” Jisung says.

“Nonsense. I’m the one who made the mess in a house that isn’t mine, I should be the one to clean it up,” you answer pushing yourself off the bed.

“Really, I don’t mind. You cooked us food. Plus you’re my guest, what kind of a host would I be if I let you do more than you already have?”

“Park Jisung,” you say, not turning to look at him as you bend to pick up your folded pile of clothes. “If you don’t let me do these dishes, I will get your roommate to lock you out of your dorm for a week, leaving you cold and sad.”

“You do that and I’ll get Jaemin Hyung to—”

“Oh, you’ll get him to do what?”  

“Well, if you’d let me finish, I’d be able to tell you now wouldn’t I?”

“Like you have it in your heart to hurt me.”

He rolls his eyes, a small smile breaking out. “Okay one, I never said I’d hurt you. And two, right now it isn’t hard to imagine causing you a small inconvenience.”

“Did you hear that Mrs. Park? Your son is threatening me,” you walk towards his mom, stopping once you’re next to her.

His mom laughs, shaking her head slightly. “My my Jisung, how college has changed you. That is no way to treat a friend.”

“That’s low l/n, telling on me to my mom.”

You wink at him over your shoulder. “I’m here to win, Park.”

Before he can get another word in, you’re already walking towards the bathroom.

“I’m glad you have a friend like that,” his mom says softly.

“Yeah, me too.” He turns his attention away from the last place you where to his mother. “Hey mom?”

“Yeah hun?”

“I- uh,” he starts hesitantly, rubbing his hands together nervously. “Can you come here a sec? And could you close the door? I want to talk to you privately.”

“Yeah, of course,” she answers, quickly closing the door and taking your spot on the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing’s wrong. I just—I just want to thank you. You’ve always been there for me, and I want you to know that I appreciate it.”

“You don’t need to thank me, I’m just doing my job as a mother. Is that all you needed to talk to me about?” She asks, worry lacing her tone.

“No, not exactly. I, um, I met my soulmate.”

He looks up from his hands in time to see his mother’s eyes widen and she excitedly pulls him into a hug. “Oh my gosh Jisung! That’s great, I’m so excited for you.”

He hugs her “Yeah, it’s been something.”

His mom pulls away, a bright smile spread across her face. “I always thought you didn’t know what your mark was; what’s your mark? Tell me about her.”

“It’s the tally mark one. See?” He turns his wrist out so she can see the black tally mark spread across his skin. She grabs his wrist, lightly tracing over the black line.  “But before I tell you about my soulmate, I have a few things I want to talk about.”

“Sure, go for it.”

“If I— if my—” he takes a deep breath, “Sorry, I’m kind of nervous.”

“No it’s okay baby, take your time. But I am kind of worried, is there anything wrong?”

“No no, nothing is wrong. Well, hopefully not anyways. If my soulmate were a... if they were a boy how would you feel?”

His mom freezes, and he quickly averts his eyes to his hands. I can’t believe I said that, I should have waited to tell her. God, what am I thinking?

“Is your soulmate a boy?” She asks hesitantly.

“I—just if they were, what would you feel? If I dated someone or liked someone who was a man, what would you say?”

“I don’t know Jisung, I’ve never thought about it,” she takes a deep breath, and he can tell she isn’t any less relaxed. “If I’m being honest, because you know how I feel about beating around the bush, it would make me slightly uncomfortable. But it’s not because I have anything against your soulmate being a man, I would prefer them to be a woman, it’s just because it’s different. Different is hard. But who you date or who your soulmate is won’t change the fact that you’re my son and I love you with my whole heart. I would die for you, Jisung, and while I might find it uncomfortable at first I could get over it.”

Jisung looks up at his mom, feeling his eyes well with tears. “Do you mean that? You really wouldn’t care?”

She nods her head self-assured. “Like I said, I would prefer it if it were a woman, but we can’t help who our soulmates are. If they just so happen to be a man, I’ll get over my hesitance towards it. But I don’t want you to worry about what I think, Jisung. You just need to live your life however that is.”

He feels a few tears escape his eyes. “I—thank you. Thank you.”

Jisung never knew how much of a weight this question had been bearing on him. While the answer isn’t exactly an ideal answer, it is still better than what he feared she would say. The fact that his mother is willing to change for him is good enough.

“Now,” his mom smiles, patting his knee. “Why don’t you go get changed and then we can leave together? It was an emotional day yesterday, and I think we both need to leave this house.”

Jisung nods his head, smiling weakly at his mother as she walks out the room. Jisung spent a lot of time in the house alone, so he is used to the house being quiet. His mom is right, though, now that his father is dead, the house is too quiet. He hasn’t been left alone since he got here, but now that he’s sitting alone in his room he understands what his mother was talking about. Even though his dad wasn’t around much, it still felt weird being in the house knowing his dad wasn’t going to be coming through the door ever again, no matter how late.

Taking a deep breath, he pushes himself off the bed and walks towards the closet. Pulling open the middle drawer, he looks down at the cloths inside. He hasn’t worn these clothes since he left for college. They are mostly the clothes his father had given him before he left.

It was when he had been away on a business trip for a week in Buyeo and he came home with three pairs of jeans and two shirts. It is the proudest he can remember his dad being of him. Even if he had tried to pass it off as his mom had told him that Jisung was running out of good clothes to wear and if he passed any clothing stores to get something. The fact that he even got him a congratulatory gift for getting into college had made Jisung falter.

“The one nice thing I know he actually did for me, and I never even showed him I appreciated it,” he whispers, smiling sadly as he pulls one of the shirts and one of the pants out of the drawer.

“I really want to thank you,” he hears his mom say as he leaves his room. “It means a lot to me that you’re here for my son.”

“Jisung is someone really important to me, Mrs. Park. You did a good job with him.”

“I don’t know what Jisung has told you about my husband, but he helped a little too. I think him being as… absent as he was really helped shape him into the person he is today.”

He leans against his door, listening to his mom talk. They have never really talked about his dad much, other than the few times he asked his mom why she stayed. It was new hearing her talk about him like this.

“Well, you and Mr. Park did an amazing job raising your son. Like I said, he’s an amazing person and someone who means a lot to me and Jaemin.”

“Yeah, yeah we did a good job didn’t we?”

---

“Will you come get some coffee or something with me?” Jisung asks, nervously messing with his hands behind his back.

“Sure! So long as it isn’t the place I work. I’m supposed to be grieving with family,” you answer, smiling brightly at him.

“Before we met you, there was a favorite place me and Jaemin Hyung loved to go. Let’s go there!”

You nod once, linking your arm with his and following him as he leads you down the street.

Jisung feels his heart skip a beat and he smiles to himself. After his talk with his mom, he feels like he can do anything. He had plans to talk to you today no matter what, but knowing his mom was accepting of who he was helped him feel more confident. As Jaemin would remind him constantly, confidence is key.

It didn’t take long for you to get to the shop from the bus station. When he enters the shop, he looks around in wonder. It had been a year since he had been here and it still looks the same. Along with his mom accepting him, it helped to be in a place he was comfortable with.

“What do you want to drink? I’m paying,” he offers as you’re both staring at the menu.

“You don’t have to do that Jisung,” you answer slowly, still reading the menu. “I can pay for myself.”

“Nonsense, you paid for our dinner last night, this is on me.”

“If you’re sure,” you answer hesitantly. “I’ll order, and then I’ll go get us a table.”

“It’s nice out, why don’t we sit outside?”.

You raise your hand to flash him an okay sign before walking up to the register and ordering. He watches as you smile at the cashier, nodding your head once before you turn towards the left and out the side door towards the outside seating.

“God, today feels so long,” you sigh, leaning over the back of the chair and stretching your arms out.

Jisung chuckles. “Yeah, and it’s only one in the afternoon.”  

“When I get back to my dorm, I’m just going to lounge.”

“That sounds like a good plan. Hey y/n,”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Yeah?”

“I’m feeling really good right now. Well, let me rephrase that. It’s been an emotional few days. And in those few days, you have been there for me. These past few days, my dad has died, I talked to my mom to try and figure out the mess that is my relationship with my father, and then I talked to my mother about her feelings on me dating a man. So overall, I’ve been all over the place the past two days.” He laughs and you laugh nervously with him. “My point is, you’ve been there for me. You’ve been there for me despite how complicated I made our relationship, however many weeks ago.”

You awkwardly laugh, and Jisung worries he’s made you uncomfortable. “You don’t need to thank me, Jisung. That’s what friends are for.”

“Um yeah, but we’re not friends. We’re soulmates.”

Your face drops. “I tried to take things slow. I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I’ve been trying to keep things normal. I’m so sorry.”

“Are you done?” Jisung asks, trying to smile comfortingly despite how much he was freaking out on the inside.

“Yeah, yeah I’m done. Just know that I’m so sorry if I forced this whole soulmate thing on you.”

“Okay, first of all, you should be able to see that I’m trying to tell you how grateful I am for you. Did you miss the part at the beginning where I told you how you’ve been there for me?”

“I thought that was a way of you saying ‘you overstepped your boundaries as my soulmate being just a friend’ and that you needed space from me,” you answer quietly.

“You shouldn’t think so much,” he chuckles. “I said what I said to show you that I’m thankful for what you’ve done for me and my family.”

“Oh, well like I said, it’s what friends are for.”

“And like I said, we’re not friends; we’re soulmates.”

“See, that right there,” you point a finger at him, shaking it slightly, “This is what confused me. What is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, we’re soulmates. That’s what the tally marks on our wrist mean.”

You blink at him. “I’m aware of that, Jisung.”

“And you’ll have to forgive me, because I know I’ve been going about this all wrong but I’m really nervous right now.” He clears his throat, smiling nervously. “What I was trying to say is that you’ve been there for me the past two days. Had this happened five months ago, Jaemin Hyung would have been the one in your place. I’ll be honest, at first, I wasn’t sure why I even called you. I mean yeah, things with Hyung haven’t been the easiest since he found his soulmate, but he’s still someone I find comfort in; he’s my best friend. But since I spent this time with you, you have shown me how much you love me. Let me just say, it’s nice knowing someone loves me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted; someone besides my mom to love me unconditionally.”

“How do you know I love you unconditionally?” You joke, but he can see it in your eyes that you’re nervous.

“Well I guess you never said those words specifically. But you said you’ve loved me since you were a kid, and that just makes me feel warm inside. I think I should chase that feeling.”

“Jisung I’m still not understanding.”

“I’m saying, I think I want to try being soulmates.”

Your eyes widen, and he can tell you’re fighting back a smile. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to be caught up in everything that’s happened and just tell me what you think I want to hear. I don’t want you to regret this.”

“I won’t regret this, y/n. The only reason I didn’t ask you sooner is because you’re my soulmate. I held you to this standard that we would be an unfit match together, and thankfully you failed to meet that standard. I think we would be a good fit.”

Jisung watches a wide smile spread across your face. “Jisung I promise you you’re not going to regret this. We’ll go as slow as you want to and you let me know anytime I make you uncomfortable. This—thank you Jisung, thank you so much.”

He mirrors your smile. He knew you were going to agree to this, but there was still that underlying fear that you’d reject him. “I know, trust me I know. I want to thank you once again for being patient with me. I know I’ve probably been taking this slower that you would’ve liked, but you have been so understanding of me. Even when I was being selfish.”

“Well, all you needed was for me to point out your self centeredness and you snapped right out of it,” you respond, leaning back in your chair.

He smiles, nodding in agreement. “Yeah yeah, you were right. But look where we are now! We’re able to sit here and have a nice cup of drink.”

You laugh loudly, a sweet smile still spread across your face. “Yes, we are having a nice cup of drink. Nicely put Park.”

“Thank you thank you, Korean is my first language” he tips his head slightly as a bow.  “You know,” he starts slowly, averting his eyes to look down at his cup he has yet to take a drink from. “If you are having a good time, this could be our first date?”  

When you don’t answer right away, he looks up at you. “Or, don’t be afraid to say no. I didn’t even ask you. Not that it has to be me who asks for the first date, I just thought that since we’re waiting on me to be ready, I should be the one to ask.”

Laughing, you cover your mouth with your hand. “I am so happy right now even your rambling is cute.”

“You should move your hand away from your mouth when you speak, it isn’t very polite.”

“Awww, look at you,” you coo, leaning forward onto the table. “You’re embarrassed. You're clenching and unclenching your fist and you won’t look me in the eye. You’re so cute.”

“I can take back my offer, you know. I’m not afraid to take back my offer, and leave you here,” he threatens. He knows you don’t take him seriously, based on the euphoric smile plastered on your face. That, and the fact his words hold no truth to them. You have him pegged.

“Oh come on,” you whine. “The date has already started, you can’t back out now Park.”

“Oh, so you are agreeing to this being a date?” He cringes slightly at how excited his voice sounds.

“Of course I am! Jisung, I’ve been waiting for this moment since I was little. So sitting here, with my wonderful soulmate who bought me a nice cup of drink, why wouldn’t I say yes?”

He nods his head once, smiling widely. “I um, wow I’ll be honest I thought you were going to say no. I had plans to take you to dinner or something.”

“You can still take me to dinner, can’t say I’d complain.”

“Yeah, but I have to keep the bar low. If I start at the top,” he brings his right hand up a few inches above the table, “then I can only go down. But if I start here,” he brings his left hand up and dramatically sets it on the table, almost spilling his drink, “then I can only go up.”

“Ah, good plan, good plan. Do tell, what comes next from here?”

“I’m thinking a few convenience store runs, maybe a trip to the zoo or something. We got to slowly build our way up, you know?”

You nod your head thoughtfully. “Yeah okay, that sounds smart. I mean, it’s not like we’re soulmates or anything so why try and impress me right?”

He snaps his fingers, pointing at you. “See, look at you go, you smart little thing.”

You roll your eyes, picking up your drink and blowing softly on it. He shakes his head, smiling softly.

“Hey y/n?”

“Hm?” you hum, finally taking a sip of your drink.

“I think we’re going to be really happy.”

You bite your lip, smiling as you set your cup down. “Yeah, yeah I think so too.”

---

Okay! Sorry for how weird this was posted, I’m the slowest reader alive so it took me forever to do the final read through. Thank you yo @jiwvnie for reading more than I told her she had to, I truly appreciate her. I have always wanted to write a soulmate au so I would love to know what you thought of this. 

Have a great day/night!!

Masterlist

#nct-writers #nct jisung #park jisung x reader #nct dream x gender neutral reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream x reader #na jaemin #NCT #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios