#not the best edit cos I did it in like 1 minute then gave up

[aziraphaleandcrowley]

Thank you snow for actually making me want to take photos again...

#robin #photography #nature photography #wildlife #bird #how do you tag photography on tumblr? #can you tell I’m used to insta instead 😅 #but I feel like my insta has to look perfect and therefor I haven’t posted in like a year and don’t want to post this there yet #Rebecca speaks #Rebecca takes photos #not the best edit cos I did it in like 1 minute then gave up #but look at the birb 😍

[siempre-bucky]

I.I.G.Y.M.H.W.Y.T.I.A.M.M.T.H.M.I.T.W?

COWBOY!BUCKY X READER

♡if I gave you my hand would you take it and make me the happiest man in the world?

Summary: Nat and Wanda take the reader post break up to The Stark Ranch, a beautiful little place in the lush green countryside. God she hated it, she didn't want to be here only wanted him back. With one dip of a black cowboy hat and a deep-voiced greeting, the readers brooding would have to wait.

Part 1 of 3

Warnings: light mentions of past abuse,

WC: 3.8k

A/N: there was a tiktok and it was just cowboy Sebastian Stan and this fucking song!! Here's a thing I can't stop thinking about! I edited this the best I could.

In the long, rich history of bad ideas, this had to be the worst idea anyone has ever had. Here she was, squished in between her best friends in the back of an Uber. An old country song from the 60s played on the radio as the two redheads gushed about the small town they were driving through. The most popular restaurant back in Brooklyn probably had more people inside it than this little country town.

"Are you done brooding?" Wanda complains, her Sokovian accent purely intensified the distaste in her tone.

"All I want is John, back," Y/N mutters bitterly, her jaw clenched, sinking lower into the seat. Both women roll their eyes at her comment.

"You haven't stopped mentioning Walker since we got off the plane. It's been 2 months Y/N," Natasha reminds her, checking her watch that was peaking from her black leather jacket. "Don't forget this is why we're here! A getaway is just what you need."

Has it already been 2 months? It only felt like 2 weeks since he left. His last words still sent a chill down her spine "Did you really expect me not to cheat, Y/N? It's New York, get used to it, babe." Y/N shakes her head, trying to get that man's callous words out of her head. She felt like she was already at the acceptance of the grieving process. She clearly wasn't there.

Natasha suddenly gasps, the Stark Ranch coming into view with its black iron gates, its name the biggest thing on it. Y/N looks in Nat's direction, the 4 story red and yellow inn sat in the middle of a long dirt road and was nuzzled in with the saturated green grass and big trees. Y/N thought it was pretty but she would never admit that to her friends.

"Ladies you have a good time out here! I reckon you'll find our little town quite charmin'!" The older man tells them happily as his car comes to a stop in front of the inn. The girls give him their thanks and get out to take a look at the place.

Nat's hand shielded her eyes from the sun as she looked up the place, a confident smile on her face since she picked out this place in the middle of nowhere. Wanda stood in the middle with her hands in her pockets and a relaxed smile. As for Y/N? she might as well have a dark cloud hanging over her. It smelled like grass and horses, her black ankle boots were covered in dust, and worst of all...Natasha blocked John's number. "Relaxation awaits girls!" Nat cheers as she leads her small pack into the front doors of the inn.

The inside was just a cute as the outside, country-style couches placed in the center with a mahogany coffee table littered in doilies. Guests laughed and chatted behind the french doors in the restaurant beside them. "Welcome to Stark Inn!" The front desk lady greets them, her strawberry blonde hair tied in a bun and a glossy smile on her features.

"You go check-in, I'm staying here," Y/N sighs, plopping down onto one of the floral couches, taking out her phone from her back pocket. Nat and Wanda rolled their eyes, pushing their luggage next to their friend before walking over to check-in.

She checked her phone 5 times, 5 different bell-sounding notifications from 5 different apps. Nothing from her former love, of course, not because he's blocked. The next bell sound didn't come from her phone but the front doors of the inn. The ding was followed by two men laughing loudly, one clapping the other on the back. The Y/H/C girl looks up at the source of the ruckus.

One was blonde, wearing a thin blue flannel shirt and dark jeans. He was cute, had a nice ass, and blue eyes a lady could swim in. The other man was a different story, however. A blush crept up her cheeks as she looked at him. His shoulder-length hair was tied up in a low bun, face nearly hidden by his black velvet cowboy hat. Fuck that man looked good in red flannel.

The said man looked down at her. Oh shit, she'd been caught staring at the two cowboys. Before she could look away the one in red smirked at her and dipped his hat "ma'am," he speaks in greeting, his voice was low and raspy, sending butterflies to her stomach and other regions.

"H-hi," Y/n says shyly, like a schoolgirl whose crush finally talked to her. The man turned away and walked away to walk towards the front desk, mud left behind from their boots which they were quickly scolded for.

"Well while you boys are makin' a mess 'round my inn you can take help these girls up to their room," Pepper, the co-owner huffs "307... the nice one." Pepper waves them off, turning to grab the keys to the room.

Natasha eyed the blonde man up and down, resting her back on the front desk, propping her elbows up behind her. "Hi there cowboy," she speaks to him flirtatiously, her pink lips form a smirk. The man ducks his head and laughs.

"Hi there. I'm Steve."

"Natasha."

Y/N rolled her eyes at the flirting, rising from the couch she went to grab the handle of her bag but was met with cold metal. Her eyes flew up to see the man in the back cowboy hat already grabbed a hold of it "I'm assumin' this is yours?" he chuckled with that honey-like voice. Y/N nods and crossed her arms over her chest, her hand still feeling the chill of his hand.

She followed behind them, taking the red-carpeted stairs. She was behind them enough to stare at the broadness of his shoulders, a small smile appeared on her lips thinking about what it would be like to run her hands down his back. No, she quickly erased the image out of her mind. That thought returned as they climbed the second set of stairs, her Y/E/C traveled down his back and landed on his backside as he climbed. A red rag hung out of his back pocket.

The man turned around as they reached the top, catching her stare at him "I'm Bucky," he tells her, breaking her out of her trance. Bucky was 2 for 2 catching her stare at him. The red in her cheeks matched the vibrant red of the rag her eyes were once fixated on.

"Y/N," she responds simply, her voice quiet.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, miss." His words made her skin tingle, small bumps rising to the surface of her clothed skin. Her green jacket covering all the evidence.

"It's nice to meet you too, Bucky," she ponders over his name for a minute "did your parents name you that?"

Bucky laughed, oh God his laugh was precious "No, uh- my name is actually James. Bucky is just a nickname, I like it better," he explains. Y/N moved from the back to his side as they walked up the final set of stairs.

"Both names are nice," Y/n chuckles, "they suit you." They both looked at each other and instantly smiled, she even unfolded her arms and let them linger at her side. She forgot what it was like to be comfortable after all this time. Walking on eggshells for a man who could set off at any moment was what she grew accustomed to. This was nice, even she had to admit that.

The two girls in front couldn't help but give each other a knowing look, Steve even joined in. "He hasn't dated in years," he whispers to Natasha as they approached the room.

"A shell of a man cheated and dumped her," Wanda tells them in a hushed voice.

They reached the white door with a golden plate '307' written in script numbers. "This is the best room at the inn!" Steve starts to gush, placing the bags on the ground.

"Clear view of the stables, horses walking around all the time," Bucky chimes in, his elbow nudging Y/N the arm. he looked up at him with raised eyebrows but he wasn't looking at her this time. Did he do that on purpose? No. Probably not.

"Well... we'll let you ladies get settled in. Don't hesitate to reach out of you need anything." Steve dipped his hat and started to walk away, clapping his friend on the shoulder, turning him to walk in the same direction.

"See you around, Y/N," Bucky told her before walking away. Her eyes lingered on the tall man as he walked away and even he turned around to catch another glance at her. 3 for 3.

"Did someone catch feelings already?" Natasha laughed as he unlocked the room. Y/N eyebrows furrowed in anger, walking in after her friends, roughly brushing past the sassy redhead.

"All I want is John back. I don't know what the hell that was out there," she defended herself, snarling as she sat in the chair by the large windows, her legs hanging off the ledge.

The women hung their heads and began to unpack "You can have the other bedroom," was all Wanda said before the conversation ended. Y/N felt the guilt rise in her heart. She didn't mean to be so blunt and rude to them, in the back of her mind she knew they knew they were trying. She was trying too.

Time had passed and clothes were hung and folded away in their drawers. Nat sat on her laptop looking for places to eat in town while Wanda checked in with her husband and kids back home. Y/N hadn't left the chair since they arrived. Checking her phone for someone who couldn't talk to her.

"Look at this cute little place in town! It's home cooking they call it. We should go," Nat tells the girl happily.

"I'll call the Uber after I talk to Tommy," Wanda joins in.

"I-I don't want to go," Y/N says, her voice softer than before. She turns his attention to the sables below her, a black horse being led by the man in the black hat. "Bucky," she whispers to herself. She watches him, his lips were moving, obviously talking to the beautiful animal. A smile dared to appear on her face while she watched him, she saw her reflection and she sucked in her lips. Her attention went back to her friends.

"We're not going to let you coop yourself up in this room all night, Y/N." Natasha squints her eyes in judgment, closing her computer with a loud thud.

"And I don't want to make this trip miserable for you guys. I just need to be by myself for a while."

"That's what we're afraid of. It took 2 weeks to get you out of your apartment."

"I'm doing better now!" she shouts, realizing what she did she gulped and sat straight up in the chair, placing her feet on the floor "I'm sorry, Nat. Please just go, have fun and I promise we'll do that spa ay like you wanted tomorrow."

"Fine, but give me your phone," Wanda interjected, holding out her hand while her other one placed her phone in her back pocket. Y/N scrunched her nose and shook her head. Wanda's eyebrows lowered, her hand still stretched out as she walked towards her. She cocked her head, striking fear into the Y/H/C. She hated when Wanda did that.

"How are you going to reach me if something bad happens?"

With the phone now in Wanda's hand, Nat said "We'll call the front desk."

The girls had left, telling Y/N to make her time alone useful. She wanted to sit and wallow in her never-ending sadness. She remembered a time like this at a New York lawyers convention when John left her in the room for hours while he partied downstairs. No, no, she didn't want it to be like this even if it was her choice now.

The stables. She walked over to the window and saw the red building empty from what it looked like. Maybe she could get a glimpse of the horse she saw. Bucky didn't even cross her mind then or was that the reason she wanted to go so badly. No, it had to have been the horse she saw. Keep telling yourself that.

Y/N stayed back a bit longer, giving Nat and Wanda enough time to leave the property. They would never let this go after the stable comment Bucky made. She stepped outside, the sun starting to set and a small chilled breeze brushes past her. Lurking around to make sure no one was there she slowly walked into the stable, the horses not paying her any attention.

There she was, the beautiful black mare standing her her stall, her face poking out of the window. Y/N walked over and let the horse sniff the palm of her hand "You're so pretty, my darling," Y/N beams, rubbing her nose. The horse nickered, making the woman laugh "You like compliments don't you."

"She craves attention!" A voice called out from the other side of the barn. Y/N whipped her head to the side, her heart thumping against her chest. Bucky started making his way over, two silver buckets in his strong arms. The sweat on his face didn't go unnoticed by her, she swallowed hard and took a step back from the horse.

"I-I didn't see a stay-out sign, I'm sorry if I'm not all-" her rambling was cut off by his soft chuckle and the clang of the buckets now on the ground.

" I don't mind, doll. Clementine loves the company." I was hoping you'd show up, he kept that to himself of course. "While you're here, do you want to help me brush her? She gets sad if I don't do it before I leave."

Y/N smiles softly and nods at him, her hands folded in her lap. Bucky eagerly opened the stall and allowed her to enter first. He ran around to empty the feed buckets and placing the buckets on the shelf. He pants as he hands her a brush, his awkward smile earning a thank you.

Bucky stood on one side while she stood on the other, brushing the shiny coat of Celmentines's body. The silence was a comfort and the soft brushing noises were music to their ears. She enjoyed the silence and stolen glances at each other. His steel-blue eyes fixated on his favorite horse, she'd never seen someone look that loving towards someone else.

He breaks the silence "So what brings you guys all the way out to our neck of the woods?"

Was she supposed to be honest? Because 'I'm desperately trying to get over a man who ripped my heart out' doesn't scream approachable. She bit her lip and looked at him from the other side of the horse, their searching eyes meeting.

"Fella did me wrong so my friends decided a getaway was the best medicine," she explained, a watered-down version of what the real devastating truth was.

Bucky nods as he listens to her, slowly making his way to her side, brushing Clementine's hip as a cover. He didn't push it any further, now wasn't the time and he remembered her somber appearance when he first met her in the lobby "Where ya from?" He asks instead

"Brooklyn." His ears perk up, he hadn't thought about that city in so long.

"Brooklyn?" he hums, "how's the city these days?"

"Busy," she responds, looking over at him trying not to act surprised that he moved closer. "You've been?"

"Once or twice." 7 years. He frowned and bit the inside of his cheek. Y/N hums and starts to brush the side of her neck. Clementine whinnies, making the woman jump back. "I-It's ok," Bucky tells her kindly, holding out his hand, "she likes that, let me show you." He takes off his hat and tosses it on top of the hay pile behind them.

His flesh arm placed at on her midback, bringing her closer to the horse. His metal arm covers her hand to guide the brush down Clementine's neck. The sound of her own heart was deafening, he was so close she could pick up everything. The smell of hay and horses mixed in wish musk and was the cedar? It was manly...just like him. The stands of loose hair stuck to his forehead, small grey hairs mixed into his stubble.

Her eyes shifted away from his face onto the sight in front of her, his hand over hers, the gold and black metal shining in the overhead light. She wondered if he could feel her. "Your arm?" she questions barely audibly.

"It was a military accident...I fell," he responded, she couldn't tell if there was sorrow in his voice or he was just accustomed to explaining it all the time.

"It's nice! I hope I didn't offend you," she tried to pull away from the situation she created but his flesh arm held her still. He looks down at her and smiles.

"You didn't. It was a long time ago."

His reassurance got her to relax. They eased into small talk about their lives, she learned that he was born here and always helped the Starks on the ranch when they opened it, leading into a job when he got out of school. He was kind and funny, made her heart constantly skip beats when he said something nice. It made her forget John Walker for a while.

The sun went down, the auto light of the stables turned on. Bucky knew he should've clocked out by now, but this was far better. She was sad, he knew that, but when she relaxed she was surprisingly funny with her quick wit, soft smiles, and her newfound love for his favorite girl Clementine.

"Have you ridden before?" he asks as they finish, taking her brush back.

"No," Y/N laughs as she recalls her childhood, "I saw a boy fall off one at summer camp and I swore I'd never do it. I admire from afar."

Bucky joins in on the laugh while he grabs his hat and dusts off the loose straws of hay on his hat. Y/N bits her lip and pats Clemintine one last time before the pair walked towards the door "Watch your step," he warns, holding his metal hand out for her to take. She looks at him for a moment, feeling like her feet were cement. Her eyes flash from his hand to the softness in his eyes.

"Fucking hell Y/N let's go!" John's hand outreached for her, it was shaking, matching his anger. "I'll fucking leave you here. You know, fuck it. Walk home." That hand turned into a fist... she didn't like that fist.

Hesitantly she takes it, her nervous fingers wrapping around his palm as he guided her over the edge of the stall and onto the main ground of the stable. "Thanks for letting me brush her, it was nice," she smiled, still holding his hand. She wasn't the only one who didn't let go.

"Any time, doll. How long are ya here for?"

"5 days," she responds. Not enough time, he frowned and bit the inside of his cheek.

"Well you can come down any time you'd like, Clem would like the company." I would too.

Y/N finally realized she was holding his hand, her eyes went wide and pulled away suddenly, her nervous chuckle ringing in his ears "I-I should go... thank you again Bucky."

She scurries off towards the inn, their hands still tingling. He'd never been this happy to still have nerves in his arm "God bless Wakanda tech," he praised under his breath, clenching and unclenching the hand.

"Y/N! Wait a minute," he shouts stopping her mid way. She turns and see's him standing there in the overhead light of the stable, like he was waiting for her to get there safely.

"Yeah?" she questions, matching the volume of his voice.

"While you're here you should try Happy's Diner! Best coffee in town!"

"I thought this place did?"

"Don't let Pepper convince you!"

Y/N giggles and nods "I will. Goodnight Buck."

"Goodnight, Y/N!" He watches her leave, making sure she was safely inside, she turned to catch one last glance at him making the brunette smile at her and waving her off.

It would be another hour before Natasha and Wanda returned to the room, finding their friend in the same position in the chair by the window. This time her shoes were dustier than before, black hairs visible on her cream-colored shirt. She stared at the cowboy painting on the wall in front of her like her life depended on it "What did you do all day, Y/N?" Wanda asks, tossing Y/N's phone on the bed.

She expected her to run and grab it, feverishly checking the messages John couldn't send. That reaction never came, she didn't flinch when the phone landed on the bed with a soft thud. Her mind was still a blur, Bucky was kind, he held his hand out for her and got her to the other side of the stall...he waited for her.

"This," Y/N remarks, coming out of her thoughts pointing to the chair she was occupying. The spy in the leather jacket didn't buy it, looking at the differences in her clothing and demeanor.

"Sounds like a bore," Nat sighs, deciding to let it go for a moment.

"How was the restaurant?" Y/N yawns, getting up and walking past them. The two redheads sniffed the air as she passed, it smelled like Y/N had been sleeping in a barn. Well, that was almost true.

"What the hell is that smell?" Wanda grimaced, her nose scrunching at the foul smell. Y/N stopped in her tracks and closed her eyes, she wasn't about to tell them about her time in the stable with Bucky. She brought her shirt up to her nose, fuck, it was her.

"Must be the atmosphere," she laughed it off, "I'm going to bed!" She rushes off before the accusations came and she knew they would come.

The door to the adjoining room slams shut and the girls give each other a knowing look "Twenty bucks says she smuggled Walker in here," Wanda bets.

"Nah, it was the guy with Steve. She blushed way too much to have done nothing about it."

"Fair."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #cowboy!bucky #cowboy!bucky x reader #sebastian stan imagine #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky au

[dysfunctionalcrab]

roses

pairing: karl jacobs x reader

pronouns: gender neutral.

description: you think karl has forgotten about your theatre performance.

you currently stood backstage in your costume. biting your lip in anticipation and constantly checking your phone. there’s no way he forgot, right?

this was the biggest performance of yours yet, it was the first time you had ever been cast the leading role, and better yet, one of the biggest directors in the city was coming to watch the play, so everything had to go perfectly.

when you told karl about the play, he was so happy for you. he got all preciously giddy with excitement about how this was going to open so many opportunities for you, and that one day you were going to be a star.

however, it was 5 minutes til curtains rose, and you couldn’t see karl. your mother and father were sitting in the second row, giving you a thumbs up and blowing you a kiss when they spotted your head peeping from behind the red velvet curtain. beside them was an empty seat. karl’s empty seat.

karl works incredibly hard, everybody knows that. from streaming, to editing his youtube videos, to participating in videos with mr beast. he barely had any time to himself, but you still couldn’t help but feel extremely disappointed that he couldn’t make it. you glanced over at all your co-stars getting their finishing touches, and then heard your phone buzz from the table. you rushed to it immediately, but it was just a notification from instagram. your heart dropped again.

“1 minute!” you heard somebody yell.

right. you thought. it was time you pushed all your thoughts aside and decided you had to focus on one thing only: absolutely owning the play.

finally, the curtains started to rise, and you stopped yourself from fiddling with your fingers, a habit of yours that happened whenever you were feeling nervous. you spotted the director in the audience, you switched on your serious face. you were going to act your ass off.

-

act 1 scene 1, went smoothly. you were very happy with your performance, your mother had her video camera out the entire time despite complaints from the other people. you didn’t forget any of your lines or stutter over any of your words. you felt a sense of pride as you noticed the directors face, he looked like he was enjoying it so far.

you were backstage again, and you weren’t back on until act 1, scene 3, so you had some time to go over and revise some of your lines to make sure they were properly secured in your mind. you couldn’t check your phone again in case karl had messaged you because everyone had to switch off their phones and hand them in.

it was a fairly short scene, and soon enough, it was time you were needed back on.

you had given up all hope that karl was going to be arriving any time soon. your mind started to drift from karl as your character was halfway through an emotional scene in act 1, scene 4. you were speaking behind your fake tears, letting out occasional sobs. and then some mumbling and muttering was heard from the audience.

without breaking character. you shifted your eyes to the left to catch a glimpse of what was making all the noise.

it was karl.

and he was slowly pushing his way past the other audience members to make his way to his seat. he was wearing a black suit and a white collared shirt. his hair was slightly untamed but did that even matter? he made it. he took his seat next to your parents who gave him a quick greeting.

it took everything in you not to break character to run up to him and tackle him.

-

it was about an hour and a half later, the play finally finished, all the cast held hands and took one giant bow together. your mum was crying tears of joy and your dad and karl had the same look of delight on their faces.

the curtains came down. everybody was elated with their performances. andrew, who was the producer of the play, gave a giant speech about how proud he was of everyone.

as you were listening to him ramble on about how thrilled he was with the performance. you felt a tap on your shoulder. in one swift motion you turned around. karl was standing there with a giant grin spread across his face

“baby!” you half whispered, not wanting to disturb the speech that was still going on. you jumped into his arms and he gladly wrapped his own arms around your back. he showered your face in kisses.

“that was incredible. i am so proud of you,” he whispered in your ear. you smiled at him lovingly.

“thank you, baby, i just really hope that director liked me, i was so nervous,” you revealed.

karl pulled away from the hug and grabbed both your hands, his thumbs gently running over the top of your knuckles.

“he would be stupid not to like you, you were the best one on stage,” he reassured you. slowly, he brought your right hand to his lips, kissing it gently.

“i’m so sorry for arriving late,” he said guiltily. “i couldn’t find my white shirt and i was stuck in traffic for so long, i promise you i didn’t forget,” he apologised

“i don’t even care,” you stated. “you made it, that’s all that matters,”. his face beamed with happiness as he became aware you weren’t in any way angry at him.

“oh- and before i forget,” karl remembered. he hurriedly ran out the room and entered it again 10 seconds later, but holding a box of chocolates and a big bouquet of roses.

“i got these for you,” he passed you the box of chocolates. “and i didn’t know if you liked the red roses or the white ones so i just counted the number of flowers in each bouquet in the shop and just got you the one with the most, it took me some time but this one had 23 flowers while the rest had about 15 or 16, and the usual chocolates that you like were sold out so i-“

you interrupted his rambling by (almost literally) smashing your lips to his. so taken aback he nearly dropped the bouquet. you kissed him with so much love and passion that you didn’t even know was contained within you. he melted into your touch and his arms tied behind your waist. your heart leapt in your chest as you thought about how how much effort he put in just to get you a simple gift. you began to pull away slowly as you started running out of breath. though your foreheads were still connecting. you loved this cute boy so goddamn much. he was way too good for you

“i. love. you. so. much,” you said. kissing his lips behind each pause. “what the honk did i do to deserve you?” you asked, locking your eyes with his beautiful blue ones. his face flushed red

“oh please, i’m the one who doesn’t deserve you, [y/n]” he murmered. he rose a hand to your cheek and gently caressed it, before pulling you back into another long loving kiss.

———

masterlist

#mcyt #mcyt x reader #karl jacobs #karl jacobs imagine #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs imagines

[dottielovegood]

ASMR - chapter 2

Elriel fanfiction

About this fic:

Azriel can’t sleep Elain has an ASMR channel Match made in heaven (or you know, on youtube..)

______________________________

Since a few people seemed to enjoy the first chapter, I decided to continue this story.  You can find the first chapter here And you can read the story on AO3 here.

_______________________________

CHAPTER 2

Flower Girl ASMR 1 day ago I am so happy that I could help you sleep, @Shadowsinger <3 ASMR stands for Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response. It is that tingly feeling you might get from certain sounds. You can also have visual triggers. Supposedly, if you find the right triggers, they will help you relax and they can even help you sleep.  I hope that sleep treats you with kindness from now on.

Azriel stared at his screen. She had responded. She had actually responded to his message. He had scrolled through her comment section again to see if she replied to all her messages, but she didn’t. She liked most comments, but she only replied to a few. It made him feel special, which was absurd. Why did he feel special because some girl on the internet had replied to his comment? She had probably already forgotten about it.

But Azriel carried it with him for the rest of the day.

He also carried with him the annoyance of some of the comments he had seen. This girl really needed to learn how to block some words. Especially: boobs, nudes, cock, jerk off, and cum. Azriel made a disgusted face when he thought about it. If they knew each other, he would help her with that.

But they didn’t know each other, so Azriel didn’t have to think about it. Those comments shouldn’t affect Azriel in the slightest. He had read way nastier things on the internet and never cared.

What was it about this girl?

Azriel was sitting at his desk. He was working at Velaris Times – a web-based newspaper that his best friend Rhysand had started a few years ago. He hired Azriel to work in IT and their other friend, Cassian, as a photographer. It was a pretty small newspaper, so they all felt like family there.

Azriel was feeling naturally energized for the first time in his life. He didn’t even need to down his usual three cups of coffee this morning. Cassian was sitting next to him, editing some photos for an article that their co-worker Mor had written.

“You wanna grab some lunch later?” Cassian asked.

Azriel’s eyes didn’t leave his computer, but he nodded in agreement. “Sure. Should we invite Rhys?”

Cassian snorted. “Nah, he’s on that weird health-cleanse, remember? Feyre probably packed him a kale juice and some broccoli.”

Azriel chuckled. Feyre was Rhys’s wife and since they decided to get pregnant, she had been all about healthy eating, to Rhysand’s dismay. He wasn’t even allowed coffee - it was all about the green tea! Some days, Cassian and Azriel ate their lunches at the office which always lead to Rhys staring longingly at their food. It felt like having a dog begging for scraps underneath the dinner table.

“So that’s still going on, huh? I thought he would have given up by now. There’s only that much kale you can eat,” Azriel said.

“Yeah, but he’s whipped. Remember when they first started dating and she served him soup from a can and he ate it like it was a gourmet meal.”

“Fair enough.”

“You know that I can hear you, assholes?” Rhys called from his office. They had been very aware of this fact. Rhys strode out of his office, wearing his usual uniform of a dark suit and a crisp white shirt. Azriel was happy that he worked in IT so he could get away with just wearing black jeans and a black t-shirt - and maybe a hoodie on cold days.

“Are you telling me that Nesta doesn’t have you wrapped around her little finger?” Rhys smirked and leaned against the doorframe.

Cassians ears turned red. “She could never get me to drink kale-smoothies every day.”

Rhys shook his head. “You were pining for her for two years before she even agreed to go on a date with you. She could probably tie you to your bed and get you to call her mistress if she wanted to.”

Cassian leaned back in his chair and gave Rhys a purely male grin. “It wouldn’t be the first time,” he said and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh for fucks sake,” Azriel groaned. “Too much information, Cass.”

Cassian shrugged. “Don’t be so sensitive, Az.”

Azriel glared at him. “I’m not sensitive just because I don’t want to hear about your sex life.”

“That’s because you don’t have a sex life,” Cassian muttered under his breath, which elicited a burst of laughter that sounded more like a snort from Rhys.

Azriel shook his head and tried to concentrate on his work, which was almost impossible when his two friends were still staring at him. He could almost feel them scheming.

“Hey, Az. How’s the dating going?” Rhys asked.

Azriel didn’t answer, mostly because the answer would be that it  didn’t. He didn’t date. He was tired of going on dates with people he didn’t know. He wasn’t very talkative, so dates were basically his nightmare. And it was even worse when he agreed to download Tinder on a drunken night a few months ago. Dating like that just wasn’t for him. He didn’t want to meet someone on the internet like that.

“You want me to set you up on a blind date?” Cassian asked, and Azriel pretended not to hear him.

“Nesta has some great friends,” he continued. “What about Gwyn?”

Rhys nodded. “Yeah, Gwyn is a nice girl.”

Azriel stared at his friends. “I’ve met Gwyn.”

“So?”

“If I’ve already met her, it’s not a blind date.”

Cassian thought about it for a second and shrugged. “Eh, semantics. Should I tell Nesta to give her a call?”

“No. She’s not my type.”

Truthfully, Gwyn was a very sweet girl. She was cute and funny and determined, but she just wasn’t for Azriel. They had met a few times but there had been no attraction - no sparks. Azriel wanted to feel something from the start. He didn’t want to be in a relationship just to avoid being lonely.

“So, what is your type exactly?” Rhys asked.

An image popped into Azriel’s head. Usually, he couldn’t imagine what his type would be, but now, he saw someone in his mind. She had golden hair and cute little freckles on her nose. She was gentle, kind and calm.

It was Flower Girl ASMR.

Azriel closed his eyes, trying to get the picture of her out of his head. What was wrong with him? He didn’t want to date someone he had only seen in a few videos. That made him as creepy as those assholes in her comment section. He didn’t even know her. He didn’t even know her name.

“I don’t know,” Azriel muttered. “Could you please let me get back to my work?”

And after a few more suggestions of people they could set him up with (he kindly, but firmly, declined), they finally let him work.

That night, Flower Girl ASMR was hosting a livestream on YouTube. Azriel wondered if they might live in the same time zone since the live stream seemed to coincide with a reasonable bedtime for him.

Azriel joined the livestream just a few minutes after it had started.  A few hundred people were already logged in. Flower Girl ASMR was sitting in front of a background that looked like the night sky; dark blue and full of fairy lights. Her hair hung in waves around her face and she was wearing a pink top that matched her complexion. Not that Azriel noticed such things, why would he?

She was brushing her camera with a make-up brush, making it look as if she was brushing his face. “I am so happy that you all could join me here tonight,” she whispered into her microphone. “As promised, I was going to host my first livestream when we reached one hundred thousand subscribers, which we did last week.” She smiled at the camera, one of those smiles that reached her eyes. Azriel could feel himself smile back. Which was stupid. She couldn’t see him. “Tonight, you can make requests or ask questions in the comments, and I will answer a few of your questions,” she continued. She was still moving the brush over the screen. The combination of her whispering voice and the visual trigger of the brush made Azriel tingle all over.

Most comments were very nice; telling her that she helped them sleep, or wanting her to say hello to them. People asked her about her favorite color and if she had any pets (lilac and no). One person asked her to do something called hand sounds, and Azriel had never in his life appreciated hands rubbing together as much as he did at that very moment. Maybe it was something with the setting on her microphone, but the sound was like a wave of pleasure in his brain.

He could feel himself relax. But then, of course, the nasty comments started.

HybernCoolKid Show a little skin babyyyy. Those tits look perky af

MortalGraysen Trying to look so innocent when you’re a fucking slut

Amarantha_utm I would honestly rather watch paint dry

Azriel could feel his blood boil. He recognized the names from the video he had watched last night. Why didn’t she just block them? On the screen, he could tell that Flower Girl had seen the messages; her face fell for just a second. And one second was all it took for Azriel to suddenly feel very protective. He was just about to go tell them to go fuck themselves when he saw that he wasn’t the only one with that idea. The comment section was flooded with love for her and in just a matter of moments, the mean comments were drowned in a sea of heart emojis. Flower Girl smiled at the screen, silently thanking all of her followers for the love. But she didn’t address the hate. She just kept going as if nothing had happened. There were a few more nasty comments during the livestream, but the same thing happened every time; her followers love-bombed her. Azriel was happy to see that most people seemed decent enough, but god, she really needed to learn how to block people.

Before he could think about it, he clicked the link in her description that led to her Instagram. Her username was the same on that app, and it was mainly used to tell her followers when a new video was uploaded. Azriel quickly looked at his own feed, making sure that there was nothing embarrassing. There wasn’t. He didn’t post very often, and when he did he usually posted pictures of food.

He clicked the button for her DMs, and before he could talk himself out of it, he wrote her a message.

Shadowsinger Hey! I just watched your livestream (it was great!) but I couldn’t help but notice some really rude comments. I hope you don’t find this weird, but have you tried blocking them? If you don’t know how, I could send you a link that will describe how to do it. God, this is weird, isn’t it? If this message makes you uncomfortable, just delete it. I’m sorry. But if you need help with blocking those douchebags, please tell me.

He sent it without even reading it and as soon as it was out in cyberspace, he groaned. What the fuck was he doing? She wasn’t his friend. She wasn’t his anything. Yet, there was something that drew him to her. Maybe it was the fact that she helped him sleep? Yes, that had to be it. It was either that or witchcraft, and Azriel didn’t believe in the occult.

Azriel was just about to put his phone in another room and go die from embarrassment when he saw that she had answered his DM. He was afraid to open it. What if she told him to fuck off? He would never be able to watch her videos again, and then he would never again feel rested.

FlowerGirlAsmr Hello! I recognized your username from one of my videos! I’m happy that you enjoyed the livestream :) I have blocked them multiple times, but they keep coming back. But thank you for offering to help me. That is very sweet!  Ps: The lasagna on your feed looks delicious.

Azriel stared at the message dumbfounded. She had answered him. And she didn’t tell him to fuck off. She had remembered his username. And she thought that his food looked delicious. He didn’t understand why he suddenly felt so nervous. Should he tell her that after watching her video he had the best night’s sleep of his life?

Probably not. That might sound creepy.

Shadowsinger Yeah, I commented last night. Have you tried blocking words from appearing in your comments? If you did that, you might not have to endure such nasty comments.  (Yes, the lasagna was very delicious)

He was staring at his message. Did he sound stupid?

Yeah, he definitely sounded stupid.  The lasagna was very delicious ? Why did he add that?

Stupid, stupid, stupid

But despite his stupidity, she answered.

FlowerGirlASMR You can do that?? I had no idea! I am not very good at computers. Honestly, I have to google every single thing about YouTube because I understand nothing, haha. How do I block words?

Shadowsinger I’ll send you a link that describes the process!

He sent her the link and waited for a few minutes, feeling happy to help her.

FlowerGirlASMR I hope you don’t think I’m stupid, but I understood absolutely nothing :( Is there a link for dummies?

Azriel laughed at the last part of her message.

Shadowsinger Unfortunately not. But if you want, I could help you.

She didn’t answer him for a while after that. Azriel was staring at his phone, trying to will a message to appear. Did he cross a line?

FlowerGirlASMR I won’t give you the details to my account. We don’t know each other.

Oh god. She thought that he was trying to scam her or something. Fuck.

Shadowsinger I don’t need to log into your account.

He sent the message quickly.

Shadowsinger I could guide you if you like? I work in IT so I’m used to just guiding people through these things.

FlowerGirlASMR How could we do that? I’m not very good at understanding instructions when they are written…

Azriel had an idea and it was both brilliant and idiotic. He typed quickly before the logical part of his brain told him to stop helping this girl he didn’t know.

Shadowsinger I could give you my number and guide you through the phone? I could share my screen with you so you could follow along like that if you are more of a visual learner. You could call me with a hidden number.

He added the last sentence to make her feel safer. And because he didn’t trust himself to have access to her number.

Again, he had to wait for a small eternity before her message popped up.

FlowerGirlASMR That would be great! Could I call you tomorrow at 10.00?

He didn’t even check his schedule before typing “Yes.”

She answered with a smiley.

Azriel sent her his number and she said that she would call, and that was that.

“What the fuck am I doing?” Azriel muttered to himself and got back to bed.

He opened the youtube app, and one of her videos was the first one he saw. His finger hovered above the video. Would it be weird to watch her now that they had messaged each other? He decided to click another ASMR video instead. And then another. And then another.

After 2 hours, he realized that all ASMR was not equal.

So he gave in and clicked on one of her videos. Flower Girl ASMR’s face filled his screen. “Hello my lovelies, lovelies, lovelies,” she whispered, and Azriel thought that she was the loveliest person he had ever seen.

Five minutes later, he was fast asleep.

#elriel fanfic #azriel x elain #elriel #elain archeron #azriel #acotar #acotar fanfiction

[writerofthecourt]

beautiful illusionist

pairing: suna rintarou x reader

summary: you are living a dream right now. it’s about time that you wake up

warning: slight time skip spoilers, some swearing, suggestive material, cheating, toxic relationship

a/n: for you, suna anon. this is a lot more mature and dark(?) than what i’ve written so far, but i hope you guys still enjoy!

EDIT: the series’ masterlist can be found here

“[Y/N], this is Suna!” Atsumu said as he dragged you along, Osamu following close behind.

“Suna, this is [Y/N],” Atsumu proudly introduced, gesturing to your form as you timidly peeked out from his back. “She’s me and ‘Samu’s cousin.”

You nervously glanced at the intimidating male in front of you. He looked tall, even taller than Atsumu or Osamu if he decided to straighten out his posture.

His eyes were narrowed, glaring at you with suspicion before he scowled and said, “Oh god. There’s three of you now.”

You blinked in confusion, not expecting such a unique response. As Atsumu began to berate Suna for his lack of manners, you felt the beginnings of a giggle bubble up in your throat.

Your giggles were soon transformed into uncontrollable laughter as you genuinely laughed for the first time in weeks.

You were depressed about the move. Having moved halfway across the country to Hyogo for your dad’s job promotion, you were forced to say goodbye to your precious Tokyo, your friends, and the life that you had grown accustomed to.

You were nervous about starting high school, but starting high school in a totally different prefecture where you couldn’t even understand the dialect? That was a whole extra hurdle you needed to overcome. However, if this Suna character was the worst that this place had to offer, then you had a feeling that you would be just fine.

“Hi, I’m Miya [Y/N],” you said after you finished laughing, stepping away from your hiding spot with a grin. “I just moved here from Tokyo.”

Suna stared at you with a confused look before he shrugged his shoulders and introduced himself as well. “Suna Rintarou. Welcome to Hyogo.”

You smiled fondly as the memory came to an end. Staring down at your left hand, you curled your fingers around your engagement ring as you began to play with the beautiful piece of jewelry.

Letting out a weary sigh, you glanced at the clock and you watched as its hands ticked away, your hopes diminishing with every passing minute that Suna wasn’t home.

The perfectly cooked dinner had gone cold hours ago, but you still held out hope that you would be able to see Suna tonight, even if it was only to wish him goodnight before heading off to bed yourself.

Sitting alone at the dining room table and dressed in one of Suna’s old shirts, you hugged your legs and brought the shirt up to your nose, finding comfort in the smell of fabric softener mixed in with Suna’s faint scent. If you just closed your eyes, you could pretend that Suna was there and hugging you after a long day of practice.

As his fiancée, you took great pride in the fact that Suna was able to live his dream as a professional volleyball player on a Division 1 team. You were his biggest fan and supporter, but you were also human.

Suna’s busy schedule left you lonely on most days, with his demanding practices requiring him to stay late at the gym on most nights. As for your own job, the long commute to work often left you scrambling in the morning, only having enough time to peck Suna on the cheek before rushing out the door. So while this deadly combination left the two of you with little opportunity to see each other during the course of the week, you still made it work.

Picking up on the faint sound of keys, your head lifted when you heard the front door open, followed by quiet footsteps and the thump of a heavy bag.

“Rin!” you exclaimed as you excitedly ran to the genkan to hug your fiancé. “Welcome home! I missed you so much! Are you hungry? I can quickly reheat dinner for you.”

“I already ate before coming home,” Suna explained as he gently pushed you away. After hanging up his jacket and stepping out of his shoes, Suna picked up his gym bag and walked off towards the bedroom.

“Oh. How about a bath?” you suggested as you followed after him. “You must be tired after practice. I can run you a hot bath-”

“[Y/N],” Suna interrupted as he searched through the closet for some clean clothes. “I’m tired. I’m just going to take a shower and go to sleep. Speaking of which, why are you still up?”

“I was waiting for you,” you lamely explained, nervously fidgeting with your fingers.

“Well, I’m home now, so go to sleep,” he sighed with exasperation.

“A-all right,” you conceded, no longer having the courage to look at Suna. “I’ll just finish cleaning up the dining room…”

“Good,” Suna said plainly before approaching you and lifting up your chin with his fingers. You smiled as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead before heading off towards the bathroom.

You ignored how he smelled like sweet vanilla.

Like another woman’s perfume.

“You’re sure working hard today,” your co-worker remarked as you tapped away at your keyboard.

“Mhmhm,” you nodded excitedly. “Rintarou has a game today. If I can just finish this report in the next thirty minutes, I can still make it!”

Your co-worker smiled in amusement, watching as you typed in the last few numbers into your spreadsheet before sending it off to your supervisor with a dramatic flourish.

“And—done!” you exclaimed as you quickly grabbed your coat and purse after turning off your computer. “Sir, I’ll be leaving now.”

“All right. Be safe, Miya-kun,” your supervisor said once he received your report.

Bidding everyone at your office goodbye, you rushed to hail a taxi, quickly telling the driver where you wanted to go before settling down into the leather seats. As soon as you reached your destination, you quickly paid for your fare and ran off to make it to Suna’s game.

“Rintarou!” you happily shouted once you made it to your seat, waving to Suna as he began to turn red from your very enthusiastic display of affection.

Some of the audience members chuckled, while others glared at you in annoyance. Suna, on the other hand, simply looked away as his teammates started to tease him, elbowing him in the arms while they all laughed at his misery and embarrassment.

Letting out a small laugh yourself, you leaned back against your chair and merrily watched the game, loudly cheering whenever Suna managed to successfully block the opponents’ attacks.

When the game was finally over, you went down to the main entrance of the venue, waiting for Suna to finish up with his post-game meeting before the two of you could go home together.

Humming to yourself, you gently swayed as you observed the various people lounging around, chatting with one another and having a good time. Spotting a familiar figure, you were about to call out to Suna, but stopped once you saw the woman walking next to him. They seemed to be exchanging some words before she noticed you and indicated for Suna to follow her as she sauntered towards your idling form.

“[Y/N],” Suna called out. “Come and meet Minami.”

Meeting the pair halfway, you stopped right in front of the now noticeably beautiful woman. Her hair was a midnight black, complementing the emerald green of her eyes. Despite being dressed in a frumpy tracksuit, the outfit did nothing to take away from natural beauty and killer body.

“Uh, hi. Miya [Y/N],” you greeted before politely bowing. You were beginning to wonder if there was a requirement for everybody in the world of professional volleyball to be this good looking.

The woman said nothing, scrutinizing you up and down before she smirked once she realized that there was nothing remarkable about you. Tossing a lock of black hair over her shoulder, she introduced herself.

“Minami Sayaka,” she said with a haughty look on her face. “EJP Raijin’s new athletic trainer. You’re lucky to have Suna-kun.”

You tilted your head at her choice of words before nodding with a small smile. “Yeah, Rin’s the best.”

As you circled your arms around Suna’s waist and beamed up at him, the tall male could only look away with an unreadable expression painted on his face.

“Right,” Minami said, smirking as she passed you and Suna to make it to the exit. “I’ll see you later, Suna-kun.”

As she brushed past you, you caught the ends of a familiar, sweet scent. Calling out to Minami, she turned around and gave you a confused look as Suna did the same.

“I like your perfume,” you complimented with a grin. “What is it?”

“Oh? It’s french vanilla.”

“Rin, pay attention to me,” you pouted as the male continued to lie there against the headboard of the bed, mindlessly tapping and swiping away on his phone.

It was one of Suna’s rare break days, and you wanted to do something with your beloved. However, the lazy middle blocker seemed to prefer lounging around the house and doing nothing all day.

“We can watch a movie? Or go shopping?” you mindlessly listed off out loud. “Oh, maybe even a dinner date? We haven’t had one of those in a while.”

Suna only grunted, half-listening to your suggestions as he proceeded to type something on his phone, showing more interest in whoever he was texting than you.

Crawling onto Suna’s lap, you tried to peek over the top of his phone to see who he was texting. Unfortunately, Suna noticed your movements and angled the phone away from your curious eyes.

“Who are you talking to?” you asked with an innocent smile.

“Just some guys from the team. They want to work on a new strategy next week,” Suna mumbled as his thumb expertly moved across the phone screen.

“Well, can you talk to them later? You’ve been ignoring me for nearly thirty minutes,” you frowned with your arms crossed.

Humming in response, Suna continued to tap away at his phone, unaware that your annoyance had finally reached its tipping point. Fed up with his behaviour, you made a grab for Suna’s phone. However, your efforts were in vain, as Suna used his superior reflexes to grab you arms and flip you onto the bed.

Pinning you down with your arms above your head, you tried to shrink back from Suna’s heated glare as he practically grounded out his next words. “Never do that again.”

You felt your eyes beginning to tear up, annoyed and angry with Suna’s indignant treatment, but more so by his lack of care and tenderness after nearly a week of not regularly seeing each other.

Turning your head away, your voice trembled as you tried not to cry. “I-I just wanted you to pay attention to me…”

Seeing your forlorn expression, Suna sighed as he released your arms, proceeding to quickly type something on his phone before shutting it off. Placing the phone on the bedside table, Suna situated both of his hands next to your head, effectively caging you against the mattress.

“You really are a troublesome woman, did you know that?” Suna asked harshly as he narrowed his eyes into a glare. “Fine, I’ll play with you.”

Before you could even say anything, Suna began to attack your neck with aggressive bites and kisses, his hands wandering down to roughly grope at your chest. After a few moments of airy moans and heated touches, Suna’s mouth left your neck, his head leaning back to proudly admire the new painting across the canvas of your skin.

Diving back down to bite on a particularly sensitive part of your neck, Suna couldn’t help but chuckle when he saw how hard your hands were clenched around the bed sheets, trying to find something—anything—to keep you grounded.

“Is this what you wanted?” Suna whispered as his hands began to rub down the sides of your body, his thumbs making small circles against your skin once he reached your waist. You could do nothing but nod, letting out soft moans of pleasure while Suna simply revelled in the adorable little noises you made.

Reaching for your shorts, Suna deft fingers quickly removed your bottom layers before throwing your legs over his shoulders, darkly smirking when you gazed down at him with glassy eyes.

“Let me hear you scream,” was all he said before shoving his face between your legs.

The other subway passengers looked at you strangely as you swayed in your seat without a care in the world. You were happily smiling to yourself, and in your lap was a bag full of streamers, balloons, and other decorations needed to celebrate this wonderful occasion.

It was a perfectly normal day at the office when you suddenly had a dizzy spell while delivering some papers. Fearing for the health of one of his best employees, your supervisor allowed you to take the rest of the day off to head home and recuperate. Rather than going home, you instead went to confirm your suspicions regarding your recent bouts of sickness, and now you couldn’t be any more happy for your symptoms.

When the subway announcer finally named your stop, you happily exited the subway and made your way upstairs, beginning the fifteen minute walk from the station to your house.

As you walked up the pathway leading to the front door, you started to hum the tune of a catchy pop song that your co-worker had recently introduced to you. It wasn’t your usual cup of tea, but you couldn’t deny that it was a good song.

Silently closing the front door behind you, you slipped off your heels and hitched up your purse higher onto your shoulder before making your way into the kitchen for a glass of water. Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you stopped dead in your tracks as you noticed an unfamiliar pair of heels thrown across the genkan. It was quite strange, considering that they didn’t seem to be in your shoe size.

Your confusion only increased when you saw random articles of female clothing, along with Suna’s own clothes, carelessly strewn around the house, all leading towards the bedroom. Following the series of abandoned clothes, you stopped right in front of the bedroom door, clutching your bag of decorations tightly against your chest as you heard the muffled sounds of pleasure coming from behind it.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

“S-Suna-kun, more!”

“God, you’re so tight!”

You felt your body tremble as you brought a hand up to your mouth, being careful not to make any noise as you slowly backed away from the door. Returning to the living room, you took a seat on the couch, suddenly feeling suffocated and nauseous from all of the walls surrounding you and the accursed scent of french vanilla floating throughout the house. The initial shock and sadness soon faded into acceptance as you wiped away the remaining tears from your face.

Rifling through your bag of decorations, you pushed past the colourful streamers and star-shaped balloons to retrieve an even smaller lavender bag. Inside of this particular bag, you pulled out a miniature pair of knitted wool socks, soft and fuzzy to the touch. They were meant to be shown to Suna as a surprise, but now…

Finding comfort in the texture of the material, you began to wonder if Suna would have been just as happy as you were when you had found out about your condition. Perhaps not, considering…

Bringing a hand to your stomach, you smiled in resolution, knowing what you had to do. Picking up your bags, you quickly put back on your heels and quietly left the house.

You knew that you were making the right decision. It was time you stopped lying to yourself.

It was an all too familiar scene, your lone figure sitting at the dining room table, waiting for Suna to come home. This time, however, you were fully dressed, with two packed suitcases standing beside you. It wasn’t everything, just the essentials: your purse, phone, keys, wallet, some clothing, toiletries, and your important documents. Everything else could be left behind.

Hearing the familiar sound of clinking keys, you steeled yourself as the front door opened. Soon, Suna’s towering form walked into the living room before he stopped in his tracks to stare at you.

“What are you doing?” Suna questioned, gesturing to your current outfit and suitcases.

“I think it’d be best if we part ways,” you simply stated with a small smile.

Suna continued to stare at you before breaking off his gaze with a frown. “So you finally figured it out, huh?”

“I’ve actually known for a long time,” you admitted as you stood up from your seat, dragging your suitcases with you to where Suna was standing.

“Then why didn’t you leave?” Suna snapped, finding himself getting annoyed at your seemingly unperturbed attitude. “Why trap yourself in this loveless relationship?”

“I stayed because I wanted to believe that you would change,” you responded sadly as you removed your engagement ring, an item that once brought you immense joy at the very sight of it. It was a sign of Suna’s love for you, but now it only served as a cold reminder of what could have been.

Taking Suna’s hand, you gently placed the ring onto his open palm.

“Then you’re just an idiot,” Suna glared as he clenched his fist around the piece of jewelry.

“I don’t regret it,” you replied with your usual cheery grin. “This relationship, I mean. If anything, you taught me that I should learn to love myself first before loving anyone else.”

Gently bowing your head to Suna, you internally thanked him for all the times you two had shared together. You weren’t bitter or resentful, only glad to have known him.

Sending him one last smile, you bid him farewell. “Goodbye, Suna-san.”

With those last words, you took your belongings and slipped on your shoes, quickly exiting the place that you once called home. As soon as the door closed behind you, you let the tears begin to fall as you walked away.

Inside the house, Suna sighed and ruffled his hair, suddenly feeling even more exhausted than when he had initially left practice. Narrowing his eyes, he spotted a suspicious lavender bag sitting on the kitchen counter. Making his way over to the bag and peeking inside, Suna’s eyes widened as he took out a pair of adorable knitted wool socks, too small for anyone but a new born child to wear.

Looking back at the door, Suna didn’t have the strength to chase after you as the guilt and regret soon began to settle in his heart.

#suna rintarou x reader #suna x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu x reader #suna rintarou #miya osamu #miya atsumu #cheating #angst

[milkybonya]

sticky situation

warnings: food mentions

Pairing: office worker!Doyoung x neighbour/co-worker!(gender neutral)reader

word count: 1-2k ?

Summary: you have a crush on Doyoung, your neighbour who lives three floors above you, but you’re too shy to confront him, so you leave sticky notes on his door. Desperate to find out who’s been leaving notes on his door but not wanting to approach you in case you don’t want him to, Doyoung patiently waits until you step forward first. With the help of Jungwoo, your co-worker and best friend (who sadly has a one-sided crush on you), you’re able to get out of this sticky situation.

what i listened to while writing: We Still (Be With U) - Astro

[a/n]: the synopsis is long and this is a mess and the ending is in need of a part 2 but i had fun writing this so i hope you’ll enjoy -- this is not properly edited because i’m sleepy but wanted to post this asap so pls forgive me ily

When you first saw him at the office, you didn’t think much other than wow, this guy is kind of handsome. After that, you moved on and continued with your day. It was when you saw him moving into your complex when you started to think that maybe this was fate. 

The way he looked so neat at work with his hair parted comma style, his suit well-ironed and his watch glistening under the florescent lights perfectly contrasted with the way he looked when he moved in: hair a fluffy mess, baggy sweater sitting awkwardly on top of his sweatpants, mismatched socks peeking out of his sneakers.

He was so cute. He was so perfect. And you didn’t even know his name... until you read it from his office ID card but still... you had fallen for an almost-stranger and you were feeling helpless..

“You know those messages written in marker on the bathroom stalls? Do you ever just wonder who writes those?” your friend, Jungwoo, asked, bending down to sit in the chair across from you.

“Why?” you asked, sipping your drink through your reusable straw.

“There were just a bunch of those in the bathroom and it made me wonder... who brings a marker to the washroom and who writes those things?”

You felt like a lightbulb went off in your head, and it was probably visible in your expression.

“What’s up?” Jungwoo asked, being the one to take a sip from their drink this time.

“I’ve got an idea...”

Doyoung left the house each morning at 7:45am sharp. You knew this because you happened to be outside of your unit, watering some of your hanging plants in the morning when Doyoung would rush by with a quiet “excuse me”.

He returned home at around 6:30pm each evening. This routine would happen each day except for the weekends. On Saturdays he would go for an early morning run at 7am, and on Sundays, he wouldn’t leave the house until 5pm to go for another run.

You had his timetable memorized, which means you knew when to place the sticky notes on his door while avoiding being caught by him.

Did I mention that your plan was to place sticky notes on his door?

Your friend’s thoughts about bathroom stalls made you think that even if you couldn’t confess your feelings to Doyoung directly or even befriend him in any way because of how shy you were, you could at least leave messages on his door to brighten his day.

When you went home, you went through the stationary you had and picked out your favourite sticky notes and a pen that you would only use for this purpose.

“good evening! enjoy your evening run~” you wrote, since it was 4pm on a Sunday and you knew that he would soon leave for his run.

You quickly got up with the sticky note in your hand and crept up the stairs to the third floor where Doyoung lived. Looking left then right and confirming that no one could see you, you gently pressed the sticky note against his front door, rubbing it with your thumb to make sure it wouldn’t fall off.

Standing back to make sure it would be at his eye level, you then ran downstairs to your floor and peeked up through the space in-between the stairs. A few minutes later, the door to Doyoung’s unit opened and he stepped out, turning to close and lock the door behind him. He paused, though, reading your note on his door.

Looking around, he tried to find who had placed it there, but there was no one on his floor. So he gently removed it, folded it and placed it in his pocket, not wanting to lose it. When he started to jog down the stairs, you quickly opened the door to your own unit and went inside, not wanting to get caught. Through the peephole, you watched Doyoung run past with the trace of a smile on his face, and it made you happy.

You considered going up to place another sticky note on his door for him to see when he got back, but you thought that would be too much, so you decided to just leave it at that for today.

-

The next day, you rolled out of bed at seven and despite not being able to see clearly since your face was puffy, you walked to your desk to pick up your sticky notes and pen.

Thinking of what to write, you decided on a simple "have a nice day and a good start to the week!" except because you were so sleepy, you wrote 'day' as 'daay' and 'week' as 'weak' so the sticky note was a bit messy.

Not wanting Doyoung to think you couldn't spell or were too lazy to try again, you scrapped that note and rewrote it on another sheet.

Pulling on a hoodie, you quickly washed your face before stumbling upstairs to stick it on his door. You then managed to eat breakfast before it was 7:45am and you snuck outside to see Doyoung's reaction to the sticky note this time.

When he walked out, you fell back against the door seeing his neatly styled hair and his freshly ironed suit hanging off his frame. His skin was glowing under the early rays of the sun, and his smile when he looked at your note was enough to make you grasp at your fastly beating heart for dear life.

Again, he folded the note and placed it in his pocket before he rushed downstairs and you had to quickly enter your unit to avoid being caught.

-

At work, your manager asked you to take some documents down to the PR team. When your Jungwoo, who worked at the office with you, overhead this, he texted you.

[y/n]!!! Doyoung works for the PR team! use this chance to do something!

You had told your friend about your crush on Doyoung and boy were you grateful that you did.

Taking the documents from your manager, you walked out into the hallway and stopped there to think.

Did he like coffee? You'd never seen him leave with one in his hand when he left his house.. Maybe he bought one at work? Would it be okay for you to buy one and leave it at his desk?

You decided to text Jungwoo for help.

does Doyoung like coffee?? would it be ok if i got him some?

everyone in this crappy office likes coffee! it's the only way we can survive!

With that, you set off to the company café to buy a drink for Doyoung. Then, in the elevator on the way to his floor, you took out a pack of sticky notes which you had stashed in your pockets and a pen to write a message.

"do you like coffee? i hope you do.. enjoy this and have a good day!" you wrote, sticking it onto the side of the cup.

You stared at it in satisfaction before the silver elevator doors opened and you left to find the PR room. When you found it, you decided you were going to drop off Doyoung's coffee first, but there was just one problem.

You had no clue where his spot was. And Doyoung was nowhere to be seen.

And what would people think when they saw you drop off a coffee for him after asking where he sat? Would they think you're his s/o? Would they ask him about it? Just the thought of Doyoung being bothered by people asking questions because of your mistake made you--your phone vibrated in your pocket. You unlocked it to find an unread message from Jungwoo.

psst. he sits in front of the manager, on the manager's left side. ur welcome.

Thank heavens for sticky notes and best friends.

After finding the manager, which was easy just by the way they sat and the mood that everyone around them showed on their faces, you casually walked towards them while dropping Doyoung's coffee off on his desk and facing the sticky note side towards his computer so no one could see or read it.

Then you gave the manager the documents and got the hell out of there.

On your way out and in your hurry, you brushed shoulders against someone and immediately turned to apologize.

"It's okay," Doyoung said with a smile, continuing to walk off to his spot.

You had just brushed shoulders with Doyoung... Doyoung?!

You ran to the elevators before he would have any chance of discovering that you left the coffee at his desk.

-

Once he was at his desk, Doyoung sat down with a sigh, stretching out his limbs before sitting tall and straight again. His hands moved to his keyboard to begin typing, but froze after seeing a cup of coffee in front of him.

Had he told someone that he had been craving an Americano?

He didn't recall doing this.

Who had placed it there? He looked around but no one made any eye contact.

After asking the person working next to him about it, who said they had no clue, he just decided to drink it.

As he did, his fingers felt a piece of paper on the cup. Turning it around in his hand, he found a sticky note with a cheerful message written on it.

"do you like coffee? i hope you do.. enjoy this and have a good day!"

What was this familiar tone of writing? Could it be..

He pulled out the folded note from his pocket that had been on his front door that morning, unfolded it and held it next to the note on the cup.

The handwriting was a perfect match.

-

6pm, the time read. You moved your fingers faster against your keyboard. You only had half an hour before Doyoung would get home and you were still cooped up in the office. It had been your own fault -- you kept imagining what Doyoung's reaction to the coffee had been. Did he hate it and throw it out? Did it make him feel sick because he has a coffee allergy?

"[y/n]."

You hummed as you looked up from your desk to face Jungwoo.

"Go home. I'll finish up the rest of our task for the both of us," Jungwoo said with a small smile.

"Really?" you asked in disbelief.

"Yeah!"

"I owe you!" you replied, grabbing your coat before leaving the office.

"Big time," Jungwoo said.

-

6:25pm, you made it home. You were wet from the rain and dried off your hands so you could write the next note.

"how was your monday? i hope it was productive and not too tiring. enjoy a good rest!"

As you were about to peel it off, you noticed a bag of candy that you had left on your desk. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to leave one for Doyoung..

In the few minutes that you had left, you taped a candy to the note and left your unit in a rush to tape the note to Doyoung's door. You made it downstairs and into your unit just as Doyoung entered the complex and began to walk upstairs.

When he passed your unit, you quietly stepped out so you could see his reaction. He smiled immediately when he saw the familiar writing on his door, and turned the candy around in his hand before unwrapping it and popping it into his mouth. He closed his eyes and savoured the flavour, and your heart bursted into a million butterflies just watching him smile from above you.

He pocketed the note and looked around then down. He would've seen you if you hadn't been quick-witted and quickly hidden yourself.

"Whoever you are, if you're still nearby, I just wanted to say thank you.." Doyoung said quietly before opening the door to his unit. It beeped as it locked behind him.

-

Since that day, you left a note on Doyoung's door twice a day, even on weekends. Each time, Doyoung would pocket the note with a smile, and you were beginning to wonder what he did with them afterwards.

You started to leave little gifts for him along with the notes by taping flowers or candy to his door. Seeing his reaction made you happy, and the times he'd adorably walk up to the door with his eyes squeezed shut as he wondered if a new note would be awaiting to then open his eyes and grin as he saw it there... it all filled your days with so much happiness.

You were just an office worker before Doyoung, living every day like the rest. Now, you were so happy. Your secret admirer persona made you happy.. until you weren't so secret anymore.

Doyoung was desperate to find out who you were.

He had found himself getting excited from your notes, his heart fluttering as he traced the lettering with his fingers despite not having the slightest clue about who left these notes. He felt like he was pathetic for feeling this way.

Doyoung had figured out your routine and what times you would place the notes on his door, so he decided he would head out to work just a little earlier one morning. As he crept towards the metal railing across from his unit to peek down at the stairs, he saw you leave your unit and walk upstairs.

Did this mean you were the person leaving notes at his door? Or were you just coming upstairs for a different reason?

He purposely stomped around upstairs, making noise to see what your reaction would be. You froze in response, looked up to see the door to Doyoung's unit open, and fled back to your own unit.

Doyoung had a feeling that he had found you.

You waited for exactly ten minutes before deciding that it was safe to leave. Perhaps Doyoung just felt the need to get some air a little earlier this morning.

When you closed your door behind you, your hand brushed against a thing piece of paper that felt to the ground after you touched it. After you picked it up, you notice there was writing on it.

"have i found the source of my daily happiness? thank you for leaving notes for me.."

You were so in awe that you had to read it a few times over to understand that it was real. Your crush. Had called you 'the source of his daily happiness'. You. A source of happiness.

It made you so happy that you jumped up, stomping your feet against the ground. Doyoung, who was quietly watching from upstairs, smiled to himself seeing your reaction.

Don't worry, Doyoung still didn't know what you looked like. All he could see was the top of your head and your back, and he purposely kept it that way because he had a feeling you didn't want him to find out who you were. I mean, the anonymous sticky notes kind of gave that away.

But now he knew where your door was, and nothing could stop him from leaving notes for you, too.

Doyoung would always leave a note on your door before you left one on his. In the mornings, he'd sometimes even leave you sandwiches or snacks, writing that he'd had some extra breakfast foods lying around snd wanted to share some.

He was lying, though.

He'd gone out of his way, googling the most popular breakfast snacks and attempting to make the sandwich three times before he got it to look just right.

At work, the two of you never saw each other, and if you ever saw Doyoung walking towards you, you'd immediately hide out of sight. Doyoung still didn't know you worked in the same place as him. He only knew you as a neighbour, and you preferred it that way.

What if he'd think lowly of you when he discovered that you were still just an intern almost reaching the end of your internship and unsure if you would actually be hired? You couldn't risk it.

This sticky note situation continued on for weeks until your friend, Jungwoo, decided he'd had enough.

"[y/n], this needs to stop."

"What needs to stop?" you asked him, washing the dishes in your kitchen while Jungwoo sat on your couch.

"This secret admirer thing. It's been weeks and he clearly likes you."

"Clearly? Where? How?" you asked, throwing down the dish towel and turning around to face him.

"He's been leaving notes for you, too. He knows all your favourite snacks now and always buys them for you. Would just a friend do any of this?"

"Yeah, you," you said, sticking your tongue out at him.

"I also have a crush on you, you dummy, so I'd know how people with crushes on you act," Jungwoo muttered.

"What?" you asked, walking towards where he was sitting.

"Nothing. I said I've heard the rumours circulating around Doyoung and his coworkers that Doyoung likes someone and I'm pretty sure it's you," Jungwoo said, laying back and placing his hands behind his head.

"How are you so sure it's me?" you asked, sitting next to him.

"Because as I was grabbing coffee from the break room on their floor, I heard it all. One of Doyoung's coworkers was talking about how Doyoung has gone insane and has fallen for someone who sticks hand written notes on his door. He doesn't even know what this person looks like but he talks about them in the office during breaks all the time."

"You heard this? Actually?" you ask. You can feel the blood in your body rushing to your face as your heart pumps quickly. Doyoung... in love.. with you?

"I swear I heard this. I'm your friend, why would I lie?" Jungwoo pointed out, spitting out the word friend as though it was poison.

"So what do I do?"

"Set up a date and meet him!"

"Just...like that?"

"Yes."

"I can't," you sighed, burying your face in your hands.

"I haven't spoken to him. Just imagining it makes me want to hide under my bed... Me... speaking to Doyoung while on a date? Us looking at each other and..."

"[y/n]! Come on! You are going on a date with Doyoung and that's that. And I'll be here to help you."

You smiled at Jungwoo who smiled back, feeling a bittersweet ache in his heart.

-

The next morning, after reading Doyoung’s sticky note on your door which wished you a good day, you walked up to his unit with a special sticky note in your hand. Taking a deep breath, you stuck it to his door and rushed down. This time, you didn’t stand outside and wait to see his reaction. You headed in and pressed your back against the door.

Your heart was racing.

“i hope you also have a wonderful day, Doyoung! this day will come to an end soon, but there is still tomorrow~ would you like to spend your tomorrow with me? you can knock on my door whenever you’re ready. if you don’t knock, i’ll understand that you’re busy or didn’t want to come :)”

This note was scandalous in your mind, but Jungwoo insisted that you write it like that. To you, it sounded like you were cornering Doyoung into spending a day with you, because he’d pretty much be the bad guy if he said no to this.

Your stomach felt like a black hole, and slowly slid down to the floor. Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you decided that you would call in sick. You did not want to go to work today.

Okay, let’s use this day to prepare for tomorrow. What are we even going to do? What will I wear?

Like the adorable soul you are, you searched google for the top places to take someone on a date near you. Some cool things showed up like museums, art galleries, but you decided that they wouldn’t be so good. In places like that, your focus would move to the art, and you wouldn’t want Doyoung to feel left out. So instead, you found a cute café.

Though your heart was already racing at the thought of talking to Doyoung face to face, you decided that was what you had to do. You have to get to know him. That’s what Jungwoo told you.

Next, you moved to the closet to pick out some clothes. Nothing too tight that would make you feel more anxious than you already were, but not something too casual. Once you found what you were looking for, you laid it out on your couch.

For the rest of the day, you binged romance dramas and movies in hopes that you would be inspired and learn a thing or too. Whether or not they’d work, you’d find out tomorrow.

Once Doyoung stepped out of his unit and reached for the familiar sticky note left on his door, he was preparing himself for another message of good luck, something short and sweet to give him energy to start his day with.

He was not expecting to be asked out on a date in such a cute way.

Despite the air being slightly frosty, he felt his face getting warm and he crouched down out of excitement. How was he going to work today knowing that he was going to meet you tomorrow? This wouldn’t work. He had to call in sick.

When Jungwoo found out that both you and Doyoung had called in sick that day, he knew that your plan was going to be a success.

-

Somehow, you made it to the next day. You had barely slept, your heart had been racing for the past 24 hours and you were not ready. 

Your phone vibrated.

[y/n], this is a once in a lifetime chance. even if it doesn’t go well, at least u will have gone on a date with Doyoung!!!

Jungwoo’s message was enough to get you out of bed and in the bathroom to wash up. You changed into your outfit for the day, got some breakfast in you and waited.

Waited.

This was the worst part.

Maybe you should have given Doyoung a time, but you didn’t want to bother him in case he was sleeping in on this Saturday morning. Just in case, even though you already knew his daily shedule.

Doyoung had not slept a wink last night either. He got up early and headed for a local flower shop to pick something up for you. He wasn’t even sure you liked flowers, but assumed you did, since you often taped flowers to your sticky notes when you left them on his door.

“May I ask what occasion this is for?” the worker asked Doyoung.

“Ah... a first date?” Doyoung croaked out shyly.

“Do you know this person or is it the first time?”

“I guess you could say... I know them.”

Doyoung laughed nervously.

Once he purchased the flowers, he happily walked to your shared complex and up to his unit where he made sure he looked okay, grabbed everything he needed, and then stepped outside.

This was it. 

He was going to see you for the first time. Finally he would be able to put a face to all of those cute sticky notes.

His legs were shaking as he walked downstairs to your floor and he almost dropped the flowers. Taking a deep breath, he walked up to your door and carefully knocked.

As soon as you heard those knocks, you jumped up and ran to the door. Then you waited a few seconds, not wanting to make it seem as though you were desperately waiting for him (even though you kind of were). 

Clearing your throat and standing up straight, you slowly opened the door.

You were kind of freaking out. Only kind of. Just a little bit.

This man had showed up to your doorstep with flowers in his hands. Your crush. Doyoung. Was at your door. With flowers in his hands.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Doyoung said, holding out the flowers to you.

“Nice... to meet you too. I’m [y/n],” you said, taking the flowers from him.

Doyoung nervously rubbed his palms against his thighs, looking around.

“I always wondered how you knew my name but I didn’t know yours,” he said with a laugh.

“Ah, we work in the same building! I’ve seen you with your ID card around your neck-”

Oh no. Did you just sound like a creep? 

You covered your mouth and quietly apologized, but Doyoung shook his head and grinned.

“Don’t apologize, I’m upset I didn’t notice you sooner! We work in the same company and I didn’t know? How disappointing... I’m glad I know now, though.”

Your heart melted more with each second that he was smiling. At you.

The two of you stood there quietly for a few moments, avoiding eye contact until Doyoung asked you what your plans for the day were.

“Hm? Oh! I’m sorry, I completely forgot. I was thinking we could go to a café, would that be okay?” you asked. Doyoung nodded.

“Let me put these flowers in my house so they won’t get ruined, give me one second,” you told him, quickly rushing inside to place them on your coffee table before rushing back.

“Let’s go!” Doyoung said cheerfully, letting you lead the way.

“It’s only a five-minute walk, so it shouldn’t be too far!” you said, walking down the steps to the main street.

“That sounds good! It’s nice to get some fresh air sinceI’m usually indoors,” Doyoung says.

“Same.”

“Right, since we both work in the office,” Doyoung said with a quiet laugh.

As you approached the café, you started to feel less and less nervous. Doyoung was able to keep the conversation flowing naturally, despite him also being anxious that he might mess things up. You learned that he was actually a person who liked liked to sleep in all the time but after being late to work several times and being scolded for it, he decided to set up a strict schedule for himself.

“Ah, here’s the café!” you said, pointing to the bright yellow and blue building.

“Wow, it’s so colourful,” Doyoung exclaimed, holding the door open for you.

When you stepped inside, the place was buzzing with people. It seemed like you’d found a hot spot.

“So do you always know where the good places are?” Doyoung asked, walking to the bright pink, glittery counter with you.

“No, I just happened to find this place!” you admitted.

Doyoung ordered a caramel coffee, which was apparently his favourite, with a mango dessert. After you also ordered, you found a cozy spot back in the corner of the café which wasn’t as loud.

The two of you talked for two hours there and time flew by. You learned about Doyoung’s love for singing, and as he practically serenaded you in that corner, you melted just like the whipped topping of your drink.

As he walked you home, Doyoung felt himself itching to hold your hand. It had only been the first date, but the two of you had clicked so well. He held himself back though, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. 

Once he had safely dropped you off at your unit, he practically flew up the steps with how giddy he was feeling. He decided that he would walk with you to work from now on, share his lunch breaks with you and get to know you better. Maybe you’d even join him on his weekend runs?

#doyoung imagines #doyoung scenarios #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #doyoung fluff #doyoung x reader #office worker!doyoung #office worker!doyoung x reader #doyoung au #neighbour!doyoung #neighbour!doyoung x reader #doyoung neighbour au #nct fluff #nct 127 fluff #doyoung #nct #nct 127 #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #doyoung x you #kpop au

[a-cupof-jo]

Set Up My Heart Pt. 8

PT. 7 – PT. 8 – PT.9

College volleyball player!Johnny Suh x reader

Rivals-to-lovers

Fluff and angst

Synopsis: Ever since that fateful day Sophomore year of high school, Johnny Suh had been an insufferable thorn in your side. Once you made it to college you thought the two of you would never have to see each other again. That is, until a sudden school transfer has the entire university buzzing

~~

We’ve been seeing Y/n’s story in college, but how did she and Johnny become so combative with each other? Will Johnny’s high school story tell all?

First part to Johnny’s side of the story.

~~

Johnny looked up as the door swung open, “There’s no way that the team will win.” Two girls walked in front of his seat as the bell ran for the start of class, “They haven’t done anything decent in 5 years.”

“Isn’t there that new girl on the team,” the second girl asked. “I heard someone say that she transferred here from across town. What was her name?”

“Class,” the teacher stood from behind his desk. Johnny noticed a girl standing next to him. Her eyes were slightly narrowed and her shoulders were pulled back tight. He recognized her immediately. Y/n L/n, recent transfer from RVHS, sophomore who was the youngest starter for RVHS’s volleyball team and who had helped bring her previous team to a state championship. Based on what he had seen, she was full of herself too and reports from her former teammates stated that she claimed all the glory for herself. Johnny didn’t get along well with people who weren’t team players, “I’d like you all to meet your new peer, Y/n.”

Johnny watched as the girl gave a slight wave the small smile on her face disappearing as she looked into blank eyes and empty faces. Johnny gave a light scoff. She couldn’t have expected to be welcomed with a parade. While she may have been a big deal at RVHS, nobody cared at SJHS. She didn’t get to parade in here as if she was going to make a difference in the high school.

“Okay,” the science teacher coughed. “Why don’t you go sit by Mr. Suh?” Johnny startled as the teacher motioned to the empty seat next to him. Johnny frowned as he pulled his backpack off the seat. There were plenty of other tables for Y/n to sit at. Why did he have to give up his empty seat? He watched as she set her bag under the table and moved to sit on the raised chair.

His eyes widened as he watched the chair slide back and she gasped. Next thing he knew she was on the ground, the chair she had been sitting on lay in pieces. He heard a mocking gasp before small laughs echoed around the room. He glanced at the two girls from earlier laughing and pointing to the now splintered wood. “Are you okay?” he extended an arm towards her.

“I’m fine,” Y/n said curtly, embarrassment heating up her cheeks. She ignored his hand pushing to stand. The hand she had held to her chest came down and wiped dust off her pants. She scowled with a glance around the classroom. Laughs had turned into titters and pointing fingers turned to grab pencils.

Mr. Byun stood hands hanging by his side. He coughed, “Well, just leave that for now.” He motioned to a chair on the other side of the classroom. “You can sit by Mr. Nakamoto instead.” Yuta didn’t look up from the playbook in his lap. Soccer season was starting soon and he was already preparing. “Okay,” Byun clapped his hands as he turned back to the board. “Let’s get started. Can anyone tell me what noble gases are?”

Johnny leaned his head on his hand zoning the teacher out. He caught her eye as she glanced worriedly back at the broken chair. The intimidating look on her face from earlier had turned into a concerned, almost sad, look. Johnny raised an eyebrow at Y/n. He wondered why she kept looking back here. The chair wasn’t going anywhere. Maybe she was scared the school was going to make her pay for it. Which is ridiculous when they have probably close to 100 sitting in storage that haven’t seen the light of day in 40 years. He watched as she turned toward him again. This time her eyes narrowed and glared at him. Johnny was confused to say the least. What was with the sudden hostility? Johnny shrugged, his chin jutting out.  She rolled her eyes before looking forward again.  He let his eyes slide away from her and back over to the front of the classroom, Byun had moved on to explaining the periodic table.

“Under extreme pressure these gases will not react well,” Byun pointed out on the table. “Which is why we must be cautious. If we aren’t careful, these gases will turn against us and once they do that, they are not very forgiving.” Johnny rolled his eyes. He barely caught the look Y/n sent him. He sighed as he looked to the clock, only 20 minutes had passed.

~~

The camera shutter clicked before Johnny pulled it down to his chest. “I heard there’s a new girl on the volleyball team,” a boy sitting across from him slightly twisted the lens on his camera. “She’s supposed to be good too. I heard one of the seniors talking about her though. They said that she’s not very personable.”

Kun sat next to Johnny, his hands clanking away on a keyboard, “So she’s not meshing well.” He hummed as he continued to stare at the screen. As a co-editor for the school newspaper Kun tried to stay in the know about all school affairs. “She will eventually. They still have a couple of weeks before the first tournament of the season. That’s really gonna help us know whether or not Y/n’s addition to the team is going to be beneficial or not.”

Johnny fiddled with his camera again. Obviously, Y/n had left a big enough impact on the local sports community that everyone knew about her. How could they not? Last year she started out on varsity as a Freshman. Her team had gone to the State Championships and won. She was the prodigy child, but that doesn’t answer Johnny’s biggest question. Why did she come here? RVHS had a respectable sports program and academics, SJHS’s girls volleyball team was less than respectable. “I don’t know. Y/n is a good player. We can see that from her stats, but if she can’t get along with the team then they’re going to have problems.”

“It’s her first week,” Kun gave a kind grin. “Give her some slack. We won’t come to a consensus about the team until we can watch them actually play.” He turned back to the screen he was editing. Kun was right. Johnny knew this, but he couldn’t help but remember her glare at him as she sat next to Yuta in Chemistry that morning. Can’t she get along with anybody? He didn’t even move, but she was acting like the chair breaking was his fault.

“I wouldn’t be optimistic,” Johnny shrugged and stood from his chair. Kun gave him a confused look. “I have some pictures to take. I’ll be back before class ends.” Escaping the classroom and the questioning looks of his peers, Johnny sighed before wandering away from the journalism room.

~~

To be fair, he probably should have been paying attention in class, but all he could think about was the bomb Kun dropped on him. How was he supposed to know that Kun was going to want him to go with him to the girls volleyball team to their first tournament? They had never done that before.

“We want to be able to track how the team is doing with their new superstar,” Kun had told him. Apparently, Kun was trying to feed into all of the school drama surrounding, Y/n L/n. “You’re the best person for the job. Think of it as a resume booster, Traveling Reporter.” Johnny had rolled his eyes at Kun, but ultimately agreed, if he wanted to be editor next year, he was going to have to make some sacrifices.

“Mr. Suh, can you please tell me the answer to question 2,” Mr. Byun had a hand resting on the whiteboard and an eyebrow raised. Johnny had glanced down to the textbook. Calorimetry. Great, he spaced out on one of the most important lectures of Chemistry.

Johnny glared at the page. “Umm 8.23 to the power of 10.”

The teacher shook his head, a disappointed look on his face, “Please be paying attention, Johnny. Y/n?”

“8.314 J mol -1 K -1,” Y/n glanced up, her voice pitched in a panic.

“Correct,” Byun scribbled on the board. “Next, we are going to see if-”

Johnny couldn’t help but send a small glare to the back of her head. He didn’t understand how she could continually have no self confidence in the classroom, but be cocky and egotistical outside of that. He scoffed lightly rolling his eyes as he watched her smile at Yuta.

She turned slightly towards him. Glancing at him from the corner of her eye she gave Johnny a sour look. Johnny tried to ignore her as the class continued on, and succeeded, until a group of guys from the boy’s volleyball team met him at the door. They all spoke to each other as they tried to get closer to Johnny. “Hey guys,” he grinned as they walked out of the doorway. He glanced away from the group to see Y/n running into an open locker door as she tried to push around the group. He tried to stifle a laugh as he saw her apologize to a kid and rub the growing spot on her forehead. Johnny watched as she sent a withering look to the group before moving on to her next class.

~~

He had to admit, albeit begrudgingly, that this year’s girl’s volleyball team was good, shockingly good. It took two tournaments for Johnny to decide that Y/n was a vital part of the team and their success.

Now he watched as Y/n passed the ball up to the setter and the team made a kill. SJHS was in the lead. They had won the first set and the third set, now, all they needed to do was lock in the 4th and they would be on to the state championships. How they got there? Johnny had no good answer except that Y/n were on the team.

While his admiration for her on the court had grown, he could not say the same for in the classroom. Week after week he watched as she floundered through Chemistry and supposedly thrived in the rest of her classes. Not only that, but Y/n seemed to have a clumsy streak. It seemed like every time Johnny saw her, she was running into lockers, doors, or shelves. He could still picture the look on her face when an ice cream she was eating for lunch flew out of her hand and landed on the shirt of the girl sitting across from her.

“Game point,” the up referee called before motioning for SJHS to serve. Johnny took out his notepad jotting down the server and the point difference. 24-21, not a bad lead, but if the team messed up here their chances for state champion finals could be over. The server sent the ball floating over the net. Johnny knew that the libero’s float serve would throw any team. It was an almost surefire way of winning. Almost. The ball bounced off a hand laying flat on the court. SJHS cannot allow them to make a play off the ball. Johnny watched as the opposing them was able to get the ball to the middle hitter. His breath caught as you dived for the ball screaming toward the floor. Y/n scooped it up and gave it to the setter. The opposite side rushed to the net and before Johnny knew it the ball hit the floor on the other side of the net. SJHS had taken the point and were now on their way to the State Championship game tomorrow.

He stepped down the bleachers as the team made their way back to the locker room. His notepad crinkled as he stood down the hall from the room he watched the team go into. He needed to speak with a few members for a post he was going to write on tonight’s game and, if he’s optimistic, the state championship game. Johnny looked up as the door swung open and several of the team members came out. Y/n came into his view first, hair hanging down by her shoulders and a smile on her face.

“Hey,” he greeted the group. “Could I get a quick comment from a couple of you about tonight’s game?”

“Sure,” the girl he recognized as the varsity setter grinned a hand resting on her hip. “But please make it short and if you need a picture get my good side.”

Johnny snorted as she turned to the left, “I don’t think I want a sweaty volleyball player as the picture for my article.” He laughed as the girl swatted at him. “Great I need, you,” he pointed to the setter. “J. Lim, and.” He glanced around the group, his eyes settled on Y/n’s, “and M. Lee.” Y/n rolled her eyes and he raised an eyebrow at her, “and this should just take a few minutes. We’ll worry about longer comments after you win the state champs tomorrow.”

~~

tag list: @beyond-gethsemane , @lanadreamie , @michplusb @qianinterprises @jaxminskale @stayctday @nanascupid

~~

*Reposted from previous blog*

#johnny fluff #johnny angst #nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #johnny x reader #johnny suh

[meetmeatthecoda]

I absolutely ♥️ADORE♥️ Scripted and would love to read your director’s commentary for it!

Oh, anon!! 😍 I'm SO THRILLED that you loved Scripted so much, that makes me so happy!! 🥰 Especially that you loved it enough to want to read my "director's commentary" (that phrase makes me laugh, you'd think I created a feature length film all by myself 🤣), so I think I'll skim through the fic - it's been a while since I re-read it - & make a bullet-point list of any special BTS info I can think of 😊 Anddd I'll also put it under a read more cause you know me, I never use one word when one hundred will do 😂

So, the fic itself was inspired by the ending of 5.08 where Liz wakes from her coma to Red reading to her in an armchair as he had been for the past 10 months, it's fine, I'm fine but she still has a ventilator in so she can't talk & instead has to write "how long?" on a piece of paper & her handwriting is super shake-y bc her muscles are so weak (I think Red even helps her hold the pen? It's clearly been a while since I re-watched the ep whoops but ugh, be still my heart.) For some reason, I just latched onto the idea of a mute Liz, really suffering with the implications of everything she went through (since her recovery was so glossed over in the show boo) & Red 1000% being there for her. Mostly, I just wanted to dive into the dynamic of Liz letting Red care for her the way he's always wanted to (without Tom & Agnes btw) to the point where their relationship is unhealthy in its reliance, but neither can see it bc Liz is blocking things out (& unknowingly falling in love with him) & Red is just so thrilled to be able to love & care for her (while already deeply in love with her obvi). So yeah, that was the kind of dynamic & closeness I wanted to explore between them & it was... really fun 😊

The idea of the coma providing the perspective Liz needed to see that Red has always had her best interests at heart & clearly loves her (in addition to the fact that he never left her side or gave up during those 10 months lol peak romance tbh) seemed very organic & logical to me.

I liked the idea of Red & Liz playing board games as a way to pass the time & get to know each other better. It's the kind of casual interaction we were never gifted with in the show & I think they're both competitive in the right circumstances, even if its playfully so.

I liked the idea of Liz being urged to learn ASL, as I'm deaf in one ear & would dearly love to learn it at some point.

The detail of Red sleeping on a cot close enough to Liz's hospital bed that they can hold hands in their sleep was a total guilty pleasure addition & I'm not sorry.

I loved the scene in the beginning where Red is talking to Dembe on the phone in the hallway & Liz is practicing her letters. She's purely doing it so Red doesn't worry & I loved the idea of her being apathetic to everything except Red's concerns, plus I added in the parenthetical of (Red sometimes squints at her k's.) bc I thought it represented that well, but also bc it was just cute af. I also added the little detail of him waving at her through the window at the last minute bc I thought the scene needed something else & once I pictured that, it was too adorable to leave out.

Red handling all the details of Liz's care & transportation without asking (bc he instinctively knew that's what Liz wanted) only to turn around & panic about excluding her seemed like a very RED thing to do & I like how it emphasizes his well-meaning intentions, respect for her preferences, & desire to see her happy, even if she did actually want to leave him lol as if.

I liked the visual of Liz stumbling into Red's arms as she stands from her hospital bed to leave with him (sets a precedent for later) & I also loved the visual of a pen in her ponytail & of course Red using it to flirt a little bc come on.

I remember struggling to write the car ride transition to the lake house. I usually get ideas & visions for specific scenes, moments, or bits of dialogue, so those kind of transition moments are hard for me sometimes. But I liked that I settled on Red helping to ground Liz through touch (again, sets a precedent for later).

Red & Liz playing hangman in the car with Red using the word "fedora" & drawing a suited hangman made me giggle.

I can see the lake house very clearly in my mind, complete with the willow tree, bench, & tiny house (included bc I desperately want a tiny house in real life) & I really enjoyed describing the interior & imagining the joy Red would get out of decorating it with Liz in mind.

Their first night in the house where Liz has her nightmare & Red comforts her - that was a scene I had in mind very early on & I love how it turned out, especially with Liz mouthing "stay with me" into Red's neck, that part gave me All The Feels™.

The "morning after" scene where Liz realizes on some level that she's too dependent on Red is an important moment in the fic & the off-hand detail that at least "she's not going around murdering people & calling it therapy" was a bit of shade to Ruin (which I don't think I ever saw bc I was kind of appalled with the idea lol) I think I posted Scripted after Ruin aired... if not, I guess I'm psychic?? LOL

The breakfast scene - & the fact that Red is preparing every breakfast food known to man bc he's nervous too - is near & dear to my heart. I think that's a pretty pivotal scene since they kind of reach an unspoken agreement & peace &... "things settle after that first breakfast."

I liked the teeny little parenthetical section that comes next as well, which acts as a sort of middle point for the fic.

The next large chunk of the fic was pure indulgence for me. I LOVED writing about all the different things they would do together when it was just the two of them, it was basically a collection of Lizzington headcanons & that's how I sketched them out LOL Here's some notes on them:

I came up with the jigsaw puzzle headcanon (that Liz is bored by them bc they're easy for her bc she's a trained psychologist & easily sees patterns in things) late in the editing process but loved it so much that I included it.

Liz's sandwich preference is actually mine LOL

The Monopoly banter was fun af to write bc I love that game.

The love notes Liz leaves around the house for Red is still an all-time favorite headcanon of mine.

I loved the idea of Red reading to Liz in a foreign language, holding the book only for looks, but not actually reading from it at all & instead professing his love for her. I think I've even used that headcanon in another fic LOL

Their movie nights were also something I was dying to include, especially since they include snacks & cuddles.

Their co-sleeping habits were also something I wanted to include & Liz's newly tactile nature is both a symptom of her dependence on Red & also a guilty pleasure thing for me bc we all wanted more of Red & Liz touching on screen, plus I felt obligated to explain through Red that it wasn't sexual in nature (though if I ever get around to writing part 2, that will change 😉)

Dembe being the one to observe & interfere in their situation was an early scene I imagined as well, that was always going to be the climax of the fic (or at least part 1). I so enjoyed writing about Red & Liz's relationship through his eyes bc he just loves them both & only wants to help them.

Another pivotal scene I imagined early on was Liz having a panic attack with Dembe when she discovers Red has left & that was super engaging to write, as well as the reunion between them which... I pretty much wrote the whole fic with the goal of getting to that lovely angst LOL

Red's resolve to finally urge Liz to speak was heart-breaking to write (so naturally I loved it lol what's wrong with me) & in particular the detail of them eating fruit for lunch before he broaches the topic with her & the parenthetical about it being "a sign from the cosmos that they are meant to be together just because they don't eat each other's favorite fruit" made my heart happy even tho it's stupid LOL & when Red asks her if she would ever try to speak again & she responds with a simple written "Why?" that was a huge moment that I loved the angst of, of course. As well as the absolutely gutting: "Lizzie, I miss your voice."

I liked that Liz needs some time to think & accept everything Red forces her to realize at the end, that was super important to me in the resolution of the fic/part 1 & I tried really hard to include both their mentalities there at the end.

The fact that Red hasn't had a drink since he started caring for Liz also made my shipping heart happy.

And - lastly - the fact that the only thing Liz actually says in the whole fic is Red's name? Yeah 🥲🥲🥲

Welp, there you go, anon, I'm not sure if that was interesting to you at all, but I certainly hope so!! I know that was a lot but... it's a long fic, my longest ever, so I figure it's warranted, right?? 😂 Anyway, thank you so much, both for the compliment of loving Scripted AND for wanting to read more about it, anon, you are so sweet!! 🥰 I hope you enjoyed this & much, much love to you, my friend!! ❤️

Fanfic Writers: Director's Cut

#The Blacklist #Lizzington #fanfic #Scripted #ask game #fanfic writers: director's cut #mine #ask #anon #thank you so much for this my friend!! #:D #i hope you enjoyed this #:) #much much love to you!! #<3

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

U N P L A N N E D, part 1

There was one other time when you found yourself like this. Just once. 

In a bathroom stall in your college dorm room, your roommate on the other side with bated breath. What’s it say? She had asked, her voice echoing off the beige tiles that spilled into the messy living room, littered with solo cups and stale tortilla chips.

This time you were alone. No roommate on the other side of the door, no beige tile. Instead, a clean, white bathroom nestled on the third floor of the Los Angeles Facebook office. 

The white plastic stick in your hand, this time, showed a tiny plus sign. A light pink symbol of what was usually happiness. But alone in the bathroom at work didn’t feel like a happy place. 

You stared down at it, wondering if the tears in your eyes were responsible for the blurring of the result. You shook it, wiped at your eyes, and checked again. Still positive. 

So you capped it and tossed it into the top drawer of your desk a few minutes later, more than happy to pretend that it wasn’t a looming disaster. A life-changing, career-altering disaster. 

When it burned a hole in your drawer, begging you to open it and pray that the plus sign had changed, you decided to text Lexi. 

Y/N L/N (3:34pm): Broke down and took a test. 

You put your phone face down, hoping that an impending text from your roommate wouldn’t create a higher heart rate than what was already pounding in your ears. You tried to take a few breaths. 

This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t the way you pictured life and it certainly wasn’t the way you pictured your summer. When the phone buzzed next to your mouse, you grabbed it so quickly you almost dropped it to the floor. 

Lexi MacMillan (3:35pm): And??

Y/N L/N (3:35pm): Positive.

You stared at the screen, watched as the three dots appeared, disappeared, appeared again, and then vanished. You imagined Lexi sitting on set, maybe in her dressing room or maybe right beside her co-star, typing and erasing, typing and erasing. 

You ignored the email that came through on your computer, likely a request from a team member to edit one of your last images, this marketing campaign is due at 5pm! This marketing campaign was also the furthest thing from your mind right now. 

Your phone started buzzing in your hand, a picture of Lexi with big white sunglasses splashed itself across the screen. You answered it quickly, holding a hand up to your mouth to keep your voice low and your words private.

“Hi,” you said, heading back for the bathroom that was around the corner from your office. 

“What the actual fuck, dude? Are you serious?”

“Yes--why would I lie about that? Do you think I’m that twisted?!”

She let out a noise of exasperation. “No, I just--I don’t know--I thought you were being paranoid or some shit! I didn’t think it was actually possible!”

“Me neither,” you said, shutting the door behind you and leaning against the cool metal. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s alright. People get false positives all the time, right?”

Her voice was suddenly more relaxed than it had been, like she realized how serious this was and how fucked you were. 

“I think people get false negatives,” you replied, defeated.

“Okay, well, you can take another test tonight.”

“Okay.”

“And then if it’s still positive, you have to go to the doctor. That’s the first thing.”

“Right.”

“They’ll do another test there,” she informed you. 

“Uh huh.”

You thought back to your most recent sexual encounter, half drunk and giggly, white linens and sneaking out when he was asleep on top a memory foam pillow. Lexi already made it home, she was high on the couch with a bag of pretzels when you sauntered in at 4am. You made pizza bagels and laughed until sunrise about the fact that you hadn’t gotten laid in what felt like ages. 

I don’t know how you made it that long, she said. You must have an extremely low sex drive. 

Or you just have a high one, you laughed. You’re always horny. 

You didn’t think about it again for weeks. Okay, that was a lie. The drinks were good and the sex had been even better. Lexi had dragged you along to the party even though you knew all the players. You had deadlines for days coming up and a Sunday night didn’t seem like a good time to end up drunk somewhere near Laurel Canyon. But you went anyway.

The first time you realized something might be off was when you were a day late. It never happened. You lived your life on schedule and your period followed the rules--it was no exception. It typically came in the morning, and by bedtime, you were only a bit concerned. You went to sleep with confidence that you’d wake up to it. 

The second day came and went, too. Lexi put on her OBGYN hat and assured you that it was nothing to worry about. Women are late all the time, uteruses have a mind of their own, really. 

Days three and four were busy at work. Five and six were spent finalizing ideas for a new commercial campaign for a product launch, dinner with Lexi and Glenne. It wasn’t until the seventh day, when the light purple app on your phone gave a gentle nudge. Be sure to log your period! 

There was no way you’d miss it altogether. You’d been careful and you watched him toss the condom into a garbage bin in the bathroom through tired eyes. He fell asleep beside you while he traced a circle on your skin--you were sure you’d never hear from him. 

So you slipped out in the early morning light and took an Uber home, knowing that while it might not mean anything, it was at least a story to tell your close friends and to keep tucked away in your mind. 

“Okay--I have to go,” Lexi said suddenly. “Derek’s being a dumbass today and can’t get his fucking lines right, so, I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay,” you said, voice small, blurry-eyed again. You let yourself slump down to the floor, at least thankful that this time, the tile wasn’t beige. 

You did your best to make it through the rest of the day, playing Lexi’s words over and over in your head. People get false positives all the time! You weren’t so sure, but telling yourself that seemed to quell the nausea. 

Traffic was heavy on the way home, sunglasses pushed up on your face and radio high enough to drown out your thoughts. You parked your car on the same leaf-littered street in Century City, walked the block to your apartment, and dropped your bag on the floor before heading for the bathroom. 

Lexi keyed in right after you sat down, water on to induce the stream of urine that you had prayed for the whole way home. 

“Hi,” she said, pushing her sunglasses off of her face and dropping her keys on the kitchen counter. She let out a small laugh at the sight of you: pants around your ankles, hair up in a scrunchie, pink plastic cap in your mouth as you held the second stick between your legs. 

The afternoon sunshine danced through the window, a breeze from the open sliding door felt like sweet relief in your stuffy first floor apartment.

“Hi,” you breathed out, flushing and pulling up your pants before capping the test and putting it on the counter. 

She took a few steps towards you, her eyes wider than usual. “How long does it take to show up?” 

“I don’t know--a minute or two, maybe? The first one was quick.”

She came over and stood beside you, her eyes on the tiny window where the result would appear. She crossed her arms and leaned over, letting her shoulder bump into yours. 

There was one line forming, like fog fading in the early morning, the other came into view as the two of you stood side by side. You let out a shaky breath--tears in your eyes again when she turned to see you. 

“It’s okay,” she said. “It’s not the end of the world.”

You didn’t say anything in response, but a few sobs escaped through your lips when she wrapped her arms around you. She smoothed your hair with her hand and eventually brought you back to the kitchen, pulling two beers out of the fridge and setting them on the counter as she rummaged through a drawer for a bottle opener.

“I can’t have that!” You said, pointing at it like it was poison, mascara smudged beneath your eyes.

“Oh fuck,” she said, a small laugh from her mouth pulled one from yours, too. “Damn--sorry, it just--felt like a good option.”

“It would be,” you said. “Typically.”

She was quiet for a second. “Is it his?”

You shrugged, staring at the shade of dark red polish on your nails. “Has to be, right?”

“You haven’t had sex with anyone else?” 

She asked as if she didn’t know. You shook your head. 

She sighed. “That, uh, that makes it a bigger deal.”

“I know--I don’t even--what am I supposed to do? Call him up and tell him? I don’t even have his number.”

“Maybe we should call Glenne.”

“No!” You said quickly, shaking your head with force. “Don’t bring her into it yet. She’ll just tell Jeff and I need to figure shit out first.”

Lexi bit her lip, torn between the two options. She’d known Glenne since they were kids, they grew up down the street from each other in Sherman Oaks and when they got drunk enough, they tried to remember the super secret handshake they’d made up in the 8th grade. 

You’d met Glenne plenty of times in college, especially after Lexi became a more permanent fixture in your life. You’d met Lexi at resident assistant training the fall of your sophomore year, but you still had no clue how adults trusted her to be in charge of eighteen students each semester. 

The party was at Glenne’s house--the one she shared with her boyfriend Jeff. You’d met him a handful of times, too, but you typically opted out of the dinner parties or cocktail hours that Lexi invited you to. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t like her friends. They’d always been nice and welcoming, but being the one person not involved in the entertainment industry normally left you feeling like the odd man out. 

What's the latest at Facebook? They’d ask, gathered around a table with wine glasses in hand. 

You’d give them the update, tell them about whatever marketing campaign you’d been working on or whatever new feature you’d helped with, but the conversation always made it’s way back to music or acting or something in between. 

Glenne worked for Apple Music in artist relations, her boyfriend for a prominent artist management firm. Lexi MacMillan, a self-proclaimed B-list actress in a new Netflix series, fit right into their world of Teslas and hedge fund investments. 

She never liked to admit that she came from money, and she was more than humble about the uneven split in your rent or the fact that she often paid for groceries. Your salary at Facebook was good--more than a lot of your other friends who had graphic design and marketing degrees, but it was small in comparison to the type of money the rest of them were pulling in. 

“Well she’s gonna be the easiest way to get in touch with him.”

“I know,” you waved a hand and took a seat at the island. “Just, not yet. I mean, don’t you think I’ll need proof? I can’t just show up on his doorstep and say: ‘hey, remember me? I’m your manager’s girlfriend’s friend’s friend and we had sex one time at your house in late April and now I’m pregnant?’”

She stifled a laugh, nodding as if it was a good idea, her tone completely serious. “I mean personally I would love to see you do that.”

“Well, I’m not,” you said firmly. “There must be rules for this type of shit. I don’t know the etiquette.”

“You mean the baby mamma etiquette?”

You shot her a look, narrowed eyes before you let your forehead rest on the counter, a groan from your lips. “My life is over, Lexi--this is seriously the worse thing that can happen.”

She brought the beer bottle up to her lips to take a swig. “Which is why we should call Glenne.”

“I have to go to the doctor first, okay? That way we don’t stir up any shit without really knowing if they’re right or not.” You motioned over your shoulder to the test you’d left behind on the bathroom counter. The other, from earlier, was still in the side pocket of your work bag. 

Lexi nodded, brown eyes with a new shade of sympathy. 

**

A woman bounced her baby on her knee, big blue eyes looked up at the two of you, nervous and caving inward in the waiting room chairs. 

“Do they all stare like that?” Lexi leaned over and whispered, her gaze fixed on the tiny human beside you. 

“I don’t know,” you said quickly, hoping she wouldn’t make any other remarks. She didn’t--quickly distracted by the nurse who called your name and greeted you both with a smile.

“Y/N?” 

You stood, walked forward and ignored the nervousness in your stomach. Lexi was following behind, she’d been positive and upbeat in the car as if heading over to the gynecologist for what you’d both been referring to as a legit test was a typical Wednesday morning errand. 

“Are you her partner?” The nurse smiled over at her when she pointed at a chair in the hallway for you to sit in. She wrapped the blood pressure cuff around your arm when Lexi pulled her head back. 

“No, just her roommate.”

“Just my roommate,” you nodded, repeating her words as if that’d ease the tension in your muscles. 

The nurse smiled, scribbled a few numbers on a post-it and before handing you a small, plastic cup. You disappeared into the bathroom and realized you’d never thought so much about pee in your entire life. When you were done, you walked back to the small room that the same nurse pointed you towards to find Lexi in the small visitor’s chair beside the paper-lined exam table.

She looked up quickly, a life-like plastic uterus was in her hands. “I maybe broke it.”

“Put it down,” you ordered, rolling your eyes at her childlike curiosity. “Let’s just get in and get out, okay?”

“Knock knock!” A voice from the doorway, Laura Weston, red hair and blue eyes. Her white coat covered a pink blouse, one that matched the color of blush on her cheeks. “Good to see you, Y/N--who’s this?”

Lexi extended her hand and smiled. “Lexi MacMillan, roommate and moral support, nice to meet you.”

“So I hear there’s a possibility of pregnancy?” Dr. Weston sat down on a rolling stool, picked up the chart on the counter and flipped through some pages. She closed it, waited a second, and offered a smile when you didn’t answer. “How are you doing?”

You nodded, licked at your lips, and then met her gaze. “Been better.”

You’d been seeing Dr. Weston for a while--you found her card in the health services building on campus during your Freshman year. Now, a whole seven years later, her smile was a calming presence in a moment of fear and uncertainty. 

“Well, note says you’ve taken two tests, and they were both positive?”

You nodded again. “Just a drugstore brand, though. I don’t know how accurate they are.”

She tilted her head side to side, lifted her shoulders a bit when she rolled towards the counter. “They’re good enough--we’re running the urine sample now and that’ll give a good idea, too. Would you like to do a blood test to be sure?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Let’s do that.”

“Okay,” she nodded, “I’ll have Justine order that for the lab downstairs.” She produced a paper wheel diagram, the colors of the rainbow seemed to distinguish different parts of a typical menstrual cycle. “When was your last period?”

Lexi handed over your phone. “April, the middle of the month. I was due eight days ago.” You pulled up the app that now seemed like less of a friend and more of a source of shame. You were proud of how well you knew your cycle. You could typically tell when you were ovulating, knew enough about your PMS symptoms to know what to expect. 

“And do you know when the possible date of conception was?”

“April 18th,” a tinge of red on your cheeks. “That’s the only possibility.”

So sure, maybe you weren’t the most sexually active human on the planet. Maybe you were slightly embarrassed that the first time you had sex in a good eleven months resulted in a possible pregnancy. 

She scribbled something on a piece of paper, just like the nurse had. A knock on the door that Dr. Weston had shut behind her. The same nurse delivered another post-it note. Pink this time, not blue like before. Dr. Weston took it in her hands and then looked up at you, an unreadable look on her face when the nurse quietly left the room.

“That urine sample read positive, too.”

You didn’t mean to do it again, but another shaky breath left your mouth and Lexi was on her feet, a hand rubbing your back in an attempt to comfort. You wiped at your face, feeling guilty for the outburst of emotion. 

Plenty of people wished and hoped and prayed for this moment. They dreamed about it and tried for years to have this moment. And you’d been stupid enough to stumble your way into it. Ahead of schedule, unprepared, and unplanned. 

“I’ll order the bloodwork and you can do that on your way out--just to be sure. But take some time and when that result comes back we can talk about some options.”

You nodded--her words were a jumble of sounds that you couldn’t really comprehend. She offered a smile and left the two of you alone, Lexi still standing beside you.

“Let’s go do the bloodwork, okay? We can get ice cream when we’re finished!” 

You nodded, wiping your cheeks again before hopping down from the table. You knew she’d keep her word. 

**

The sunny California sky and a cone of soft-serve from McDonald’s made the afternoon somewhat better. You worked from home and went to bed exhausted, almost feeling detached from reality. 

You talked with Lexi that night about having Glenne over for dinner. It’d been a few weeks since you’d seen her, drinks after work one night to celebrate Lexi’s show getting signed for a second season. So when she knocked on the door of your apartment the next evening, Lexi opened it with a big smile. 

“Hi, hi,” she said, opening her arms in greeting. “Look at your beautiful face,” she pinched Glenne’s cheek between her thumb and forefinger. 

Glenne laughed and pushed her hand away, leaning around Lexi’s shoulder to see you in the kitchen. “She’s high already?”

“No,” you laughed, “she just loves you.”

Glenne made her way past her friend, offering you a hug before she set her purse on the counter. She’d always been so poised--perfect, clear skin, hair that was always flawlessly colored and cut. She took a seat on one of the stools and put her chin in her hands, “please tell me you have margarita mix.”

Lexi laughed, rounding the kitchen counter and heading for the fridge. “Oh, do we!”

“Tacos are on the way,” you said, reaching for glasses from above the sink. 

Mexican was always the go-to. You’d moved in with Lexi after college, and when Glenne ended up living only a short drive away, take-out became a regular reason for a get together. 

“How’s life?” Glenne stared up at you. “I’ve been so busy which is why I had to cancel on that movie last week. But--what have you been up to?”

Her question was pointed at you. While you and Glenne were definitely friends, you trusted that she communicated with Lexi a lot more regularly about life updates. 

You cleared your throat, ignored the awkward glance that Lexi shot in your direction when she reached for the tequila above the fridge. “Same old, you know. Just work, and stuff.”

Okay, so lying wasn’t a strong suit. You forced a smile and turned to Lexi, hoping she’d jump in with a hilarious story or funny remark. She was too busy lining up the cups, ready to distribute the liquor. 

You looked back to Glenne. “Uh, I wanted to talk to you actually.”

That got Lexi to turn around. Her eyes were wide, lips parted as if she was thinking oh, you’re doing it right now? 

“Remember in April, at that party--” You trailed off, referencing it as if it was ages ago. 

“The album wrap?”

“Yeah, when I, you know, got laid for the first time in a while?”

She laughed, looking up at you with an amused smile. “Yeah?”

Glenne had been the most excited about your rendezvous that evening. When she’d first introduced you the two of you, she made your promise you wouldn’t get all weird around him. Apparently people did that. You laughed it off and tried to ignore him at the other end of the dinner table--an Italian restaurant in Studio City for her birthday last fall. He showed up twenty minutes late.

Lexi was still now, tequila on the counter, she wore nothing but a pair of shorts and a tube top in the afternoon heat. Glenne was impatient, the smile fading from her face when you broke eye contact with her for a second. 

She tilted her head to the side. “What? You’re freaking me out.”

“I’m, uh, I’m actually pregnant.”

Quiet. Outside the windows, the setting sun illuminated a hazy Los Angeles dusk. Kids swam in a pool at the house next door, their laughter was muffled through the sliding door out to your patio. It felt strange to say it like that. Up until this morning, the word possibly had been sprinkled in, a safe and reassuring disclaimer. 

“You’re joking,” she said, readjusting in her seat, the color drained from her tan skin.

You swallowed. “I’m not.”

She looked over to Lexi, then brought her gaze back to you. “And you’re saying it’s his?”

You rolled your eyes a little. “He’s literally the only person I’ve had sex with in the last year.” Lexi came over to the counter to stand beside you. She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the smooth granite. Glenne just stared at you, still in disbelief.

“I took two home tests on Tuesday and went to the doctor yesterday.” 

What you didn’t tell her is that you cried this morning when the email came through, new test results available from Dr. Weston’s office! Positive. Both the urine and the blood test. There was no denying it now--even if you wanted to. 

“Holy fuck,” she said. “Holy fucking shit. This is not good, you guys.”

“Don’t, Glenne,” Lexi stood back up and shook her head, making a face at her friend. “She’s already freaked the fuck out and she won’t stop fucking crying, okay? She doesn’t need you to add to that.”

You tried to swallow the emotion now, heat to your cheeks when Glenne rolled her eyes.

“I’m not trying to add to it--I’m just--I have no clue how they’ll take that.”

You knew who she was referring to. His team. The people around him who’d made sure, for all this time, that something like this never happened. 

She let out a sigh and looked up at you again. She stood from her seat and rounded the counter. “I’m sorry--I just--are you okay? How are you feeling?” She hugged you, it felt more obligatory than genuine. “You haven’t told him, have you? Does he know?! Jeff doesn’t know!”

“No--you two are the only people who know. I haven’t even told my mom.”

Glenne’s arms still encircled you, Lexi stepped over and hugged you both, a kitchen group hug. “This means more tequila for us, Glenney.”

“You’re fucked up,” she laughed in response, pulling away and looking at Lexi. 

It was quiet for a second, that was Lexi’s cue to make them both a margarita. Glenne went to sit back down, immediately going into business mode when she clasped her hands on top of the counter.

She took a deep breath, you were unsure if that was for your benefit or her own. “So--okay. Where are you at with it all?”

“Are you asking if I’m, like, excited? I am not excited. This is not how my life is supposed to go.”

“Oh enough with the plan, will you?” Lexi rolled her eyes and poured the liquor into two matching glasses, nonchalance lacing her voice. 

“Well forgive me for ideally wanting to find a partner before having a baby,” you shot back at her. 

“That’s not what I mean,” she turned around. “It’s just--I dunno, dude, you’re always so hard on yourself if something doesn’t go according to the plan. I get it--this is a big one, but, stressing over your plan isn’t gonna help.”

Glenne nodded, almost reluctant to side with Lexi. “I’ve heard about the plan. You are obsessed with the plan.”

“I’m not obsessed with it,” you retorted. “I just have a good sense of how I want my life to go.”

Had. You changed the verb tense in your mind. You had a good sense, until now. 

“Well, are you...gonna keep it?” Glenne’s question was innocent, her eyes searched your face as soon as the words left her mouth, she looked nervous, like she didn’t know if it was okay to ask.

A tired voice. “I don’t know,” you shook your head. “I haven’t even thought that far.”

She nodded. “You have to tell him. Have you even talked to him at all since then?”

“No,” you laughed. “It was only, like, a month ago.”

“He didn’t text or call?” she pulled her head back in surprise.

You shrugged. “No. I wasn’t expecting that. Why? Did he mention me?”

“It came up once or twice, yeah.”

“With who?”

“With me and Jeff--and Lexi.”

You turned to your roommate, narrowed eyes when she delivered the drinks. You knew she’d seem him once since then--a brunch one morning before Glenne left town for business. 

“I told you about it--he just said you were nice and that we should all hang out,” she mimicked his accent, earning a laugh from Glenne.

“That wasn’t the first time you met him, though, right?” Glenne pulled the glass to her lips, took a sip and then made a face. “Jesus, strong enough?”

“I figured you might need it since your boyfriend is about to be hella upset.”

“Thank you, thanks for that,” you made a face at her. “But no--” you turned back to Glenne to answer her question. “I met him at your birthday party last year--in Studio City.”

“Right,” she nodded. The doorbell rang and Lexi went to greet the delivery person, or, more so, the tacos. 

“But listen, you can’t tell anyone, okay? I don’t even know what I’m gonna do yet.”

She closed her eyes, made a face that told you it was going to be hard to keep her mouth shut. You leaned forward and lowered your voice, hoping to convey how serious this was. “Give me a few days to just--to talk to him first.”

She dropped your gaze, bit at her lip. You knew it was a big ask. Don’t tell your boyfriend something that is about to make his life a living hell. 

“Please, Glenne.”

She let out a long sigh, one that sounded like it was slowly deflating her lungs, tired and unsure. “Fine,” she said. “But you’ve got to get in touch with him then--like, soon.”

You nodded, Lexi reappeared from the front door with a box in her hands and a smile on her face. “Okay--two for each of us and plenty of guac to go around.”

“So,” Glenne pursed her lips. “Need his phone number?”

**

It felt like one of those dreams you couldn’t wake up from. Like a cloud that looms over the city when everyone is dying for a sunny day. 

You ignored the two phone calls from your mom you got in the span of three days--quick to text her some excuse about work or being busy with something at home. It felt too soon to tell her. You didn’t even know what he’d say or what he’d think or do or feel and the last thing you wanted to do was get a bunch of people involved in this before you even knew what to expect. 

There were a few options, in terms of what his response might be. Glenne had continued to prep you that night in your kitchen, the more margaritas in her the more she accepted that she was now complicit. In moments it felt normal, laughing and talking and then watching a stupid youtube video of some kid falling off of skateboard. 

But when you went to bed and then woke up, realizing that no amount of sleep would change the current predicament, you decided that maybe it was time to get in touch with him. 

You had no clue when or how or where. Over text? On the phone? Lexi agreed that was too impersonal. Out to dinner? Too public. In person? Terrifying, and possibly not an option. 

The truth was that you didn’t know him. He was someone who happened to be friends with your friend. Nothing more, nothing less. At least, that’s what you told yourself when you saw a billboard on the side of the 405 with his face on it. 

So you didn’t know if he’d even want to see you--he might consider you an acquaintance or even a stranger and maybe he had no desire to ever speak to you again.

You went about work and life as if everything was normal. You showered and brushed your teeth and took solace in knowing that whatever form of life was inside you was so tiny that it could just as well be a blip on the radar. 

A story in the future of hey, remember that time, when you were, and then it...

Plenty of people got pregnant and lost it, not even knowing until it was too late. You weren’t sure if you were wishing for that, in all honesty, but you knew that the alternative felt too overwhelming to think of right now. 

But when you found yourself sitting outside in the courtyard on your lunch break, a search typed into the app store for pregnancy tracker, you figured that maybe it was time to bite the bullet. If you were starting to think in terms of what size fruit a baby is at any given stage, maybe it was time to loop him in. 

You pulled up your text thread with Glenne--scrolled up past a meme and a recipe she’d sent you, until you found his name and number. You clicked it once, create new message. 

You stared at the blank bubble. A thousand words and a thousand choices of what to say and how to say it. With a rush of adrenaline, you exited out. Clicked the number again, call now. 

It rang. Three times. Then voicemail. A deep breath, you stood from the bench and started to pace. 

Beep. “Hey, uh, this is Y/N--uh, Y/N L/N. Lexi MacMillan’s roommate. I hope you’ve been well since I saw you, and, yeah--maybe we could get dinner or something soon. My number is--the one I’m calling on, so, I know you’re probably really busy right now, that’s fine. Just, uh, yeah, would love to talk with you. Okay, bye.”

You pulled the phone away from your face and wanted to throw it into the bushes. Would love to talk with you? That didn’t exactly do it justice. 

You let out a breath and clicked it to sleep, hoping that maybe it’d get lost in translation and you’d never have to talk to him or see him or think of him ever again. 

Something told you that wasn’t very likely. 

You went back inside and finished up the day of work, thankful for distraction from Aarav when he found you in the lounge. 

“Did you see the request that Carson sent?” He dropped his laptop on the coffee table and headed for the vending machine nearby. “Not to sound like a dick, but, he’s out of touch with reality. I’m concerned about him at this point.”

“Why?” You laughed, “cause he doesn’t understand that we can’t deliver a whole project with only two hours to do it?”

“Exactly,” he leaned down to reach for the bag of popcorn it spit out. “Hopefully he just fucking leaves and goes to fucking Tinder--he could even go to the Instagram department, for all I care.”

“Levi hates him anyway--pretty sure he regrets hiring him.”

He came to sit next to you and then opened the bag, putting his feet up on the glass table in front of you. “Yeah, well, Levi’s out of here as soon as he gets something with Apple.”

You smirked over at your favorite coworker, knowing exactly what was coming out of his mouth next. 

“And then you’ll get promoted. Much deserved, the queen of saving my ass.”

You brushed your hair off your shoulder playfully. “You’re welcome.”

He cleared his throat, opened up his laptop. “Levi’s great--but if you’re my boss, I’m working remotely two days a week instead of one.”

“We’ll see about that,” you said, giving him the side eye when you looked back to your screen.

You fell into comfortable silence--grateful for the change of scenery from your office that was far enough away from Aarav and Simone, the two people who made work feel like fun. So you got back to the project, sent your designs to Carson when you finished, and prayed that he wouldn’t have a fit over the fact that you didn’t take his advice on using the Aileron font instead of Arimo.

He emailed you, eventually, but you didn’t have time to read it. As soon as it opened on your screen, your phone rang--a Los Angeles area code appeared on the screen and you felt your stomach drop to the floor. You looked over at Aarav. “Sorry--I, uh, I have to get this.”

You stepped away, leaving him on the sofa with your laptop, hand still deep in his bag of popcorn. You swiped across the screen, brought the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hi, uh, Y/N? It’s Harry.”

__

table of contents | talk to me + join the tag list

author’s note: Y’ALL. I’m back. As if starting a new story literally DAYS after I finish one isn’t crazy, here I am. Come talk to me and let me know your thoughts or your theories because THIS ONE is gonna be a wild ride. 

tag list: @stepping-into-the-light @thurhomish @afterstylesmadeit @iconicharry @stylesfics-xx @harryspirate @mellamolayla @harryinsweatersandbandanas @stylesfantasy @clorenafila

#unplanned #harry styles fic #harry styles fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles story #one direction fanfic #one direction fanfiction #1dff #harry styles writing #idkthisisjustforfanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles drabble #harry styles smut

[certifiedceraunophile]

KLAROLINE FALL BINGO PREVIEW.

@eliliyah @klarolinefallbingo

Prompt: Dias De Muertos

Honestly the relevancy of the prompt comes far to late in the story but it’s there, kinda. But hey it’s there.

MASQUERADES

(CinemaAU)

Sometimes all she needed was to take a breather. A single moment. One pause.

Breathe in.

To collect her thoughts and emotions. To steady her bearings.

To state in a repetitive loop all the reasons why punching one Niklaus Mikaelson in the balls would be a marginally bad idea.

And breathe out.

Forgive her, but The man was infuriating. Okay?

And unashamedly so. Not a whit of genuine compunction behind that facade of ‘Inescapable Charisma and Unadulterated Allure.’

Definitely not her words.

Nope. No sir.

These were the words of a certain Greta Martin, editor-in-chief for the first October issue of People Magazine.

With one Mega-frustrating arrogant blonde blue-eyed dimpled asshat demon going by the name Klaus slapped to the front of said issue.

And Nope if anyone asks,

No, she did not literally just shred -In a shredding machine no less, because efficiency, thank you very much- the first copy of the magazine she bought, after reading the beginning eight lines on his exclusive, recounting what a ‘delightfully satisfying and marvellous experience the entire three months of shooting turned out to be.’

Ok one Black-hole sized pause right there please.

Thank you.

A single beat.

And....

The Absolute Fuck?!

She’s sorry. Marvellous experience?

Excuse her, but say what?

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Beg pardon but What?

Excuse her.

But Marvellous experience, as in, aggressive quotation marks scratching the air “Marvellous experience” is NOT how she remembers it.

The slap in the face obvious discrepancy to both their stories is definitely not blind to her.

He called 84 re-takes that lasted four whole hours for one eight minute long single-shot single-angle scene, Marvellous.

He called having ice-cold Whiteclaw thrown square on his face by a Absolutely-done-with-wild-gust-of-agitated-Blonde-Fury on the eighth day of set, Marvellous.

He called having two separate make-up artists downright quit after being unable to touch up her makeup every thirteen seconds because she ran her hand down her face in unbridled aggravation every time her eyes landed on him, Marvellous.

He called the same experience where, she had to literally rush out of a set, under the ruse of a bathroom break, Twice in the course of three months, so that she can peacefully go through the motions of a rage-fueled emotional meltdown, complete with angry frustrated tears and a relentlessly colourful diatribe, cursing every man in her life who bore even a sliver of resemblance to the stormy-blue-eyed spawn of satan that was her co-actor, Marvellous.

God. How the hell did he possibly think he could get away with this,

How did he think he was going to smooth over the transparent inconsistencies between her interviews and his, without raising at least a few confused questions from bloodthirsty intuitive fans and the Press in general.

Given how her talk-show interviews and magazine exclusives gave the steady image, that

1. Klaus Mikaelson is a dick and a half, with an overgrown ego so ginormous that even the entirety of Tinseltown is ‘plainly restricting of his nonpareil talent in histrionic execution.’

2. Klaus Mikaelson is an arrogant narcissistic asshole that Hast pronounc'd upon his brethren yond this day f'rth that gent shalt with ev'ry smidgen of purpose in his life striveth to be the Unrivalled Bane of Caroline Forbes’ Existence.

3. The process of Creating the undeniable tour de force Masterpiece that was ‘100 years of solitude.’ The newest Christopher Nolan Direction and Production in theatres right now, that already has definite Academy Awards Nomination in the talks, was anything but Marvellous. She admits, It was so so gratifying and made her heart full with a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction, that left her giddy with such lighthearted contentment for days, after the phenomenal response it garnered post-premiering, Yes. But that does not capsulate how frustratingly tiresome and emotionally debilitating the entire creation process was. Hell it was downright painful at times.

4. Would she voluntarily take another movie with Klaus Mikaelson as a Co-star alongside her? You can get back to her when the sun starts to rise from the west and the answer would still be a definitive NO.

Now of course she wasn’t this brazen with her claims she knows how to be cute and classy and concise.

But she definitely did not mitigate the truth of her statement, she’s had enough training with her PR department to know what to say and how to say it but she’s sure that nobody had been able to overlook her less than companionable remarks about Klaus.

For example

The Stephen Colbert Show:

Stephen: “So Caroline tell us about the process, the Making of it, how everything fell into place like tiny puzzle pieces to reveal at last this grand, Grand Picture.”

“The process? Well the process was certainly not...pretty...but after every time we finished a scene, however small or inconsequential it may have seemed to the plot, there was this immense sense of ‘there-Done it. And done it well.’ ”

Jimmy Kimmel Live:

“Klaus Mikaelson, well my Co-star is um....eccentric at best.....”

Jimmy: “and at worst?”

“Well..... I guess” -hellish, heinously intolerable, a cruel mean bastard- “....Unyielding...?”

The Ellen Show:

“Well Klaus was a..... demanding partner and it took Herculean efforts to meet his exacting standards, but I can understand how that paid off so well on screen. The end result when I saw it for the first time, it damn well paid off.”

Ellen: “so he is absolved of his admittedly ‘uphill’ personality then?”

She laughs awkwardly,

“Ye-ah....No.”

followed by more laughter dissolving the painstaking grimace she’s trying to tamper down.

Oh and the worst.

The Late Late show with James Cordon:

During the ‘Fill Your Guts or Spill Your Guts’ segment

James: “So....I’m going to give you, let’s see, Ah there, the Bird Saliva.”

Caroline: “James!.... Damn it, you are so not making it into my good books, and....God. That’s just disconcerting I mean, How do they even, I don’t know... collect it?”

James: “Well there’s a whole process of harvesting it from the salivary glands and—“

Caroline: “Never mind! Nope. No need for the details, please, James, a lady’s delicate sensibilities are at stake. And unless the question is ‘what is your social security number?’ I’m not drinking this poison.”

James: “Now Caroline you wound me, I can assure you everything on this table is edible albeit being marginally unpalatable—“

Caroline: “Marginally?!”

James: “You should try the Cow’s tongue. It’s delectable.” Followed by a sagely nod.

Caroline: “Now I’m just intensely bothered. You’ve definitely lost all claim for a spot in my good books.”

James: “Ah well, speaking of staying in your good graces, here’s a question that will have you downing that Saliva in seconds.”

Caroline: “Hit me.”

James: “Well then, ‘Name Any one CO-star with whom you have worked with in the past that you would never volunteer to work with again.’”

Pause.

And the audience descended.

“Like I said, speaking about staying in your good books.”

Amidst the raucous screams, whistles and laughter, it didn’t even bother Caroline, the clarity and speed with which the name

‘Klaus Mikaelson’ flashed in the front of her mind, like a large Neon LED sign from a typical Vegas Nightlife scene.

It took her a total of three seconds to know that she was going to answer with his name because, well just look at that drink in front of her,

Sure if you bend over real low and squint in the right light it may look like a harmless Daiquiri, but a Daiquiri it was not.

No. This was Bird Freaking Saliva,

Come on, you can’t possibly ask her to put that in her goddamn mouth.

Like NO.

Just no.

So sue her for protecting her taste buds that are yet to experience many more exotic flavours and textures of food from all around the world.

But then again she can’t possibly outright just say “Oh that’s easy, Klaus Mikaelson.”

That’s exactly the kinda PR trouble she wants to stay above and definitely didn’t need to be wrung out dry by her Spitfire Mistress-of-Hell Publicist Katherine Pierce for.

(Who also alternates as her BFF, occasionally, mind you.)

So she puts on a good show, dropped her head in her hands, gave a healthy long groan, looked up and gave James her best wounded Puppy Dog eyes, to which he was clearly not immune to, judging by how he looked a touch chagrined, but the game was just as much as beyond his hands as it were hers,

She looked to the audience “You guys are so mean, it’s not even funny.”

And grumbled a bit more till everyone was laughing and pitching forward and back on their seat amused by the poor Blonde’s Dilemma.

So she looked up to the heavens as if to ask for some unknown deity for deliverance and guidance, and poised herself to drink,

Only to put the glass back down in the last second in a begrudgingly weak show of caving in, and blurted out reluctantly,

(She’s a glorious actor, she’s aware.)

“You know what, Nope. He’s just gotta deal with it, okay?.”

Deep breath

Or was it the audience taking a deep breath and holding it in,

“ItsKlausMikaelson,PleaseDontKillMe.”

Pause again.

And the auditorium transcended.

Well,

she handled that, pretty well, if she does say so herself you know.

Apparently Kat Disagrees.

Apparently She Blew It.

She blew it so hard she could’ve knocked down the third little pig’s brick house.

Ironic since she always envisioned Klaus as the Big Bad Wolf who huffs and puffs and just generally blows.

Apparently her little admission was a PR disaster.

And Kat was furious.

The two minute edited clip that encompassed the question, the reluctant grumbling and finally the confession was apparently now a viral video on all social networking platforms.

They were trending on twitter under the hashtag

#KlarolineUnrequitedLoveIsABitch.

But her admission to being generally averted on taking up Klaus as a colleague again was apparently only one half of the video,

The other half....

Well the other other half was Klaus with his personal confession.

God, it wasn’t even a confession,

it was a—a Mockery, yes that’s it, a Mockery,

Of Her, no less

Basically Here’s the run down of the second insidious half of the video,

Klaus sitting in front of Graham Norton, in all their British glory, going live on The Graham Norton Show,

when asked about Caroline Forbes, his “partner” on scene has the audacity to let out this evil little amused huff and say:

“Caroline?” Another amused huff. “Well Caroline, Christ, where do I start? She’s an absolutely glorious presence on set. Her energy....it’s infectious, She hits you like a blonde hurricane of sunshine and snark and you’re just left staring up at the sun thinking, ‘you need to catch up mate, if you want to be half as bright and burning as her.’”

And Caroline thinks maybe this is the feeling of your brain imploding within the confines of the skull.

TBC

#klarolinefallbingo #Klaroline fall bingo #klaroline drabbles #klaroline fic #klaroline fanfiction #otp: Caroline I’m not you’re British muffin #otp: I shot him and now he thinks we’re engaged #otp: Caroline my love #klaroline event #vampire diaries #and the klaroline is perfect #klaroline forever #klaus mikaelson #caroline forbes #actors #enemies to lovers #Paris Rome Tokyo #actors in love #cinemaAU #AH/AU #strong ageless fearless

[hyper-super-clover]

Trouble in Devildom Town, Part 1/3

In this short story, our dear Leviathan is back with another one of his “hey I teleport you Normies into a game world”- kinda games. What will the happen inside the world of the game “Trouble in Terrorist Town”??

This story contains two OCs/ MCs, so if you´d like to know more about the girls Violet and Clover, you can check out their character designs & descriptions on my blog :D

Hope you´ll have fun on this three-parted adventure!

 Approximate reading time: 10~15 minutes

Words: 3.156 words

 It was a calm, neat Saturday evening, when a new message hit the "House of Lamentation" group chat...

 Leviathan:

OMGGGGGG

GUYS (and girls LOL)

YOU NEED TO COME OVER TO MY ROOM ASAP

 Satan:

?

 Mammon:

To your room? Seriously?!

 Asmodeus:

I can't remember having Levi calling us over ever before... What's going on??

 Leviathan:

LESS TALKING, MORE COMING OVER.

 Lucifer:

I do hope for you this matter is worth the ruckus...

 Clover:

We'll be there in a sec!

  And so, the whole mansion's population found themselves in the third-born's room a few minutes later.

"Levi..." Being the last one to step inside the crowded room, Belphegor was rubbing his eyes in a tired manner. "Would you tell us what's going on now...?"

However, Leviathan wasn't really going to answer any of their questions.

Instead, he was prompting his guests to close the door, his gaze drifting over all of them.

Lucifer crossed his arms.

"This maniac expression on your face is highly worrying, Levi," Lucifer said.

Levi turned towards his computer, hectically mashing his keyboard, clicking on several pop-ups that appeared on his monitors, before finally turning around to properly face them.

He wore a crazy smile.

"Dammit, Levi," Mammon burst out, "I'm not in the mood for your weird shi-"

Ignoring him, Levi spoke in his best terrifying voice.

"I welcome you..."

Before anyone could react, he pressed a last key, then the monitors emitted such a strong light that all of them had to close their eyes.

  Slowly able to see again, the nine of them suddenly found themselves in a little shack.

"What... What happened...?" Violet was the first one to take a proper look around. "Where are we?!"

Leviathan's laugh pulled them out of their confusion. He spread his arms triumphantly.

"Welllcome tooo....

Trouble in Terrorist Town, the special, virtual reality but actually it's true reality -edition!!"

"Trouble in... What?" Mammon asked.

"Wait..." Clover was searching for Levi's attention. "I know this game, I've played TTT before. But why are we... really here?"

Satan shot his otaku brother a glare.

"Is this one of your real life games that you are only allowed to leave when you win??"

"Kind of," Levi laughed. "Don't worry though, if you die here, you don't die for real. You'll get kicked into a spectator lobby and we'll all respawn together once the round is over."

The oldest brother gave a stressed sigh.

"Really, now..." Lucifer rubbed his temples in distress. "Why do you always force us into playing your games without asking first...?"

"Well... I feared all of you would say no if I did" Levi responded, actually in a slightly sad tone.

When Lucifer breathed another sigh, they heard Asmo giving a weird squeal.

"Look at our outfits tho~!" he hummed.

He was standing in front of a partly broken mirror, posing while blowing his reflection some hot kisses.

"A simple black, military look, slightly armoured just at the right places... And oh my, tight clothes just show all those curves and perfections of my astonishing body..."

As he was looking around to find someone who would agree with him, his eyes landed on Clover.

"Isn't that right, darling~?"

The girl didn't even look at him.

Instead, she was staring at somebody else with a heavy blush covering her face.

"Y-yeah... Curves and... Perf... Perfection..."

Asmo wouldn't need to, but nonetheless he followed her gaze to find the sixth-born.

Of course, Beelzebub noticed this piercing glare that laid on him, but (fortunately for the girl), he was too pure to correctly interpret the thirst behind it.

"Huh? Clover? Are you not feeling well? You look like you have a fever..."

He hurried over to check that her face was truly burning hot, and of course only getting warmer now that he was this close, in this soldier like, perfect, absolutely stunning uniform that just-

"GUYS!!"

Thankfully, Leviathan saved the girl from passing out.

"The game is about to start soon and you don't even know the rules!!"

With a little frown, Violet leaned against the wooden wall that Satan was already rested against.

"So we're really going to play this crazy game...?" she mumbled so only the blond could hear.

She gained a chuckle.

"I guess so..." Satan whispered. "Although I must say, weird and extreme as they may be, but Levi's games can be quite amusing if you just go with the flow."

She mustered him, then a smile spread on her face as well.

"Well, I guess we should take all the opportunities we can to do crazy stuff while Clover and I are here in the Devildom."

Before Satan could answer, Levi threw a pebble at them.

"You listen as well, Normie!!"

Then, he finally went to explain the rules...

  "In our group of nine, there are three that are not like the rest...

They are traitors.

They work as a trio, trying to kill all the other players in order to win the game.

But who are they, you ask yourself?

Well, that is a thing only they know, and THE thing the innocent one's have to find out.

To their guidance is the almighty detective.

Unlike the traitors, the detective can, or should, reveal his role so that the remaining players, called the 'innocents', can protect him better.

Then, logically, the innocents' and detective's goal is to find the three traitors and eliminate them.

When the game starts, we may run out of this shack and will have additional two minutes to spread over the map. Keep in mind that in those two minutes it is impossible to harm your co-players, but after that, it's time for war.

The map is covered with all sorts of weapons that may help you in the epic fights we will have.

But behold!

Both, the traitors and the detective, have access to special weapon shops, where they can, any time, any place, trade achievement points for super cool, limited items to grant their victory!

On your wrists, a health bar will appear, but you can only see your own. Once your life points reach zero, you will be put into said spectator lobby and may follow the game like ghosties in the sky! Then you will also see who has which role."

 Levi took a look around after having finished.

"Any other questions?"

Belphie raised his hand.

"Do the traitors know who the other traitors are? Or can they kill each other?"

"Very good questions! They know of each other, but they may also kill each other if it gives any tactical advantages. Their goal is to have at least one traitor alive at the end of the game while the rest is dead.

Ah, I forgot to say...! If an innocent person or the detective kills another innocent one, they will die as well, as a penalty."

After a round of silence, everyone looked as if they were ready.

"Good to go?" Levi checked one last time.

Gaining nods as an answer, a big smile grew on Levi's face.

"Alright!!! Then...

Let's begin!!!"

  The players were just about all out of the shack when the game officially started.

A giant countdown manifested in the bright sky of day that, judging by the bright sunlight, must have been the sky of the human world.

Two minutes were slowly ticking down.

Levi was pointing up at the clock...

"After this preparation time starts the overall time of one hour. If that time is over, the innocents will win as well. But for every person the traitors kill, they gain five minutes to add to the counter."

... And then he pointed down on his arm.

"You should all see a role written on here. And the traitors will see two other player's names on here as well."

He gained a round of hesitant nods.

"Our player names are displayed above our heads. Be careful, they might reveal your position if you're not hiding well enough."

They heard Belphie snort with laughter.

He pointed above Mammon's head.

"'StupidMammon'? I like that name, it's better than your real one!"

"Huh?!" Mammon looked up to see it himself. "WhAT?! Levi, did you give me this shitty name AGAIN?!??"

"Lolololol, sorry Mammon, I had to."

Kind of automatically, everyone needed to check their names before doing anything else.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow.

"Most of our names are normal, though... We have Beel, Belphie, I am 'Lucifer' as usual..."

"Yep! I am Levi-chan, and the Normies are Violet-chan and Clover-chan."

"What an honour to have a naming scheme fitting your name," Violet smiled.

"Well, I felt kind today. Don't push your luck, or I'll change it into Normie #1 and Normie #2 for the next round."

O moment later, Satan gave a sigh.

"... Why am I called 'Stan'?"

Levi looked at his name.

"... Oh. Must be a typo lololol"

The others laughed a little, while the Avatar of Wrath tried to contain his displease, but out of all, Asmo seemed to find it the most amusing.

Which was weird, because he was completely ignoring the fact that his nickname wasn't normal either, but there was an extra fat "Ass-mo" written above his head...

 After a round of getting used to the sensation of being inside a video game, Violet clasped her hands to finally get things started.

"Could we get going? There's only less then a minute left before the friendly fire wears off."

Very grateful for helping to get the game going, Levi was about to dismiss everyone, when he remembered one important detail.

"WAIT!!" he screamed.

"What?! I wanna go already...!" Asmo whined.

Levi looked around.

"The most important role!! Who's the detective?!"

Everybody shot each other glances, then, finally, a little "ah!" caught their attention.

Their gazes landed on Mammon.

"There's 'detective' written on my left arm, so I guess it's me?"

"WHAT?!" Levi pressed out. "OH, MAN....! Why does it have to be MAMMON?!"

"Well, I guess the innocents are on their own, then," Satan agreed to Levi's resignation.

"With Mammon as the most powerful innocent, the traitors have a clear advantage," Lucifer agreed, too.

"Aw, maaan, and I was hoping for an exciting first round..." Asmo pouted, of course, in agreement.

The white haired male gave a growl.

"H-hey!!! Don't be like this, I'll kill those traitor bitches in no time!!"

But no one was listening.

In a collective sigh, all the others automatically started to move, not a single soul feeling the need to stick to the one person they knew was one of the good ones.

"Hey!!" Mammon called out again. "Aren't ya innocents s'posed to guard me?! Where are y'all going?!?!"

... But no one was listening.

"Grr... Just you wait...! I'll slay this game!!"

And with that, he turned to follow behind Lucifer and Violet, whining and screaming at them to wait for him, only to see how Lucifer was fastening his step.

   Walking through the deserted village and onto a wide, open area, Clover soon felt her fear of being chased kick in.

Somehow, she had ended up all by herself, but that only made stumbling about so much worse.

But now, as she turned her head to check if someone was following her, she saw how Satan had been trying to follow her in silence.

As they locked eyes, however, he greeted her with a smile and went up to her as if nothing had happened.

"... Hi," Clover mumbled carefully.

"Please don't mind my behaviour," the blond said while gesturing to continue walking together. "I still have to figure out how to properly behave in this situation. I mean, it's not every day that we suddenly face each other as maybe allies, maybe enemies... right?"

The girl shot him a sceptical glance.

"Well, that's true... But if your goal is to not appear suspicious, then... Don't to that again. Just a friendly little piece of advice."

Satan laughed.

"Yes, my apologies. You see, you have mentioned you know this game, so I found it best to stick to you."

They halted as they found a pistol laying on a boulder nearby, a package of ammunition right next to it.

Both of them were hesitating, then Satan turned around to continue.

"You take it," he said, obviously trusting that Clover wouldn't shoot his back right this instant.

Well this, or he was already bearing a weapon...

"I've seen people play this game lots," Clover continued the conversation. "I know how everything works, but I'm afraid I'm pretty bad at all the aiming stuff..."

The two reached a weird cliff that parted the land in a huge gap, no ground to be seen in the huge depths. One of those super unstable-looking wooden bridges was leading to the other side.

The platform on the other side was rather small, with only a few buildings in the middle of it.

Satan held his chin in a contemplative manner.

"I bet there must be some rare items waiting for those who would go that far and cross the bridge..."

Clover gave a nod.

"Probably... Welp, you can get the stuff, I have terrible fear of heights, so I'm not going over that wobbly bridge thingy."

The girl was about to leave again, but the male got hold of her wrist.

"No, you're coming with me."

"What?! Why?"

He searched for her eyes.

"Look. I trust that you're innocent, and I ask you to trust me, too. I could have already killed you if I wanted to, when you were all alone. But we need to work together if we want to stand a chance against the traitors and whatever special weapons they might have."

He made a little pause while the girl fought with herself to make up her mind.

"Please," he said again.

Finally, Clover gave an annoyed grunt.

"Fiiiine..." she grumbled. So, she pointed at the bridge. "But you go first... Mister Stan."

She stressed his nickname in a manner to mock him.

Satan looked at her for a moment, dazzled, then he turned around and could only give a breathy laugh.

"See, now you can be sure that I am innocent. Because if I was allowed to kill you just now, I definitely would have."

  "Oooh, Leviii!"

Asmo was nearly doing little jumps while trotting alongside the third-born. His excitement was visible, but very odd, and of course Leviathan noticed that his brother was acting strange.

"Asmo, for Lord Diavolo's sake, what's wrong with you?!"

Putting on his best puppy eyes, Asmo looked at him all innocent.

"Eeh? Shouldn't you be happy that somebody actually enjoys your weird games for once?"

Levi growled in response, moving through the deserted village with such care, as if death could be waiting behind every next corner.

... Well, it could, yes, but his super secret agent act was just... a little too much...

"Sure, but... You're almost TOO excited about this. A little shady, if you ask me... Like, out of all games, why would one where we kill each other be one to wake your interest?!"

He gained a dramatic rolling-of-eyes.

"Oh, please, Levi! It's not the killing or tactical contemplation that gets me excited... But think about the potential that this scenario bears!"

They peeked inside one of the empty houses.

There were two weapons inside, a crowbar and a shotgun without ammunition.

Breaking the nearest window, Levi climbed inside to pick them up, and was kind enough to give Asmo the crowbar even though he hasn't done anything worth gaining it (as Asmo had even been too scared to get a cut from climbing through the broken window so he didn't move an inch).

"What potential, exactly?" Levi asked, more because he felt like Asmo would pressure him into asking that anyway.

Glad that he could continue his speech, Asmo placed a dramatic hand on his forehead.

"The potential for drama, Levi!! Just imagine... us lonely wolves lumbering through the streets, and our maidens Violet and Clover shivering in fear!"

He changed his pose, wrapping his arms around himself as if hugging someone.

"Oh, whom should they trust?? Their hearts, their minds, or just nobody at all?!"

Then, he suddenly grabbed Levi by his shoulders, getting pretty close to his face.

"Love blooms in times of war, Levi! And I will take every chance I can to see those flowers in their full beauty!"

Silence.

Then, Levi gave an exhausted sigh.

"... Can you please go away...?"

And Asmo let go of him.

"Tsk. Okay, if you're not mentally able to understand the depth of my words, then I shall find a better place to fulfill my tasks...!"

  "Sooo, Beel, where you wanna go?"

The twins were already out of town, kind of heading towards the edge of a nearby forest.

The taller one seemed to be searching for something.

Then, he held his stomach.

"I'm... Hungr-"

"No, don't even say it" Belphie sighed. "Are you, really? Even inside a game?"

Beel only gave a pout, so Belphie continued after a while.

"Well, if we must secure you won't go on a rampage and destroy the whole game, then the forest might be the best place to find something for you."

And so, Belphie continued heading straight towards the green.

After a while, however, Belphie noticed how his brother wasn't following any more.

Turning around, Beel had stopped completely and was looking off into the distance behind them.

When Belphegor asked him what was wrong, the other male slowly shook his head.

"Where did everyone run off to?" Beel asked. "I can't see any of the other players..."

"Hm... I saw Violet, Lucifer and Mammon go into the forest as well... Asmo and Levi seemed to have stayed near the village... And I don't know where Satan has gone."

Now Beel turned his head.

"And Clover?"

"Uhm... She went somewhere... there, I think. I heard her talk with Levi when we left, but it seemed like she wasn't going to stay with him."

"So she's all alone right now?"

Belphie got a little confused over Beel's worried expression.

"Well, maybe. But she could be a traitor, so why are you so worried about her?"

Beelzebub's gaze drifted away again.

"I just... Don't like that thought." He snapped back at his smaller brother. "And by the way, you could be a traitor as well."

Belphie leaned back in a carefree manner.

"Yeah, but I told you I'm not. You don't believe me? I believe you're innocent, too!"

Beel gave a little sigh.

"But you can read me like a book, even if I tried lying to you..."

They kept standing there in a little silence.

Then, without further ado, Beel grabbed his brother by his arm, turned around, and kept going into a different direction.

"Beel, what are you...?! Weren't you hungry?! What about the forest??"

"... I sense food over there. Don't worry, and let's get going."

#obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me shall we date #obeyme #obey me oc #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #violet #clover #fanfic #trouble in terrorist town

[joon-ipersgirl]

O5 - “the coveted client”

genre: mafia!au, angst, fluff, slow burn, mystery-thriller

pairing: namjoon x reader (f)

word count: 4.6k

warnings: cursing

summary: charismatic. beautiful. fearless without question. the ambitious team of seven young men in charge of spiral, downtown district's hottest new club, go above and beyond to provide 100% satisfaction to their clients.

after an eventful night out, you have no choice but to join the team for property damages greater than your intern salary. challenging a series of events that can no longer be left to coincidence, secrets threaten to burst at the seams as your professional and private life collide, and another - more sinister - debt is added to your total.

how far are you willing to go to pay back your pound of flesh? remember nothing is ever as it seems...

a/n: hello friends. here is part 5. leave a comment on how you're feeling about this story. i'm debating on discontinuing it from tumblr. thank you vi for reading as always. enjoy everyone :)

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

Training tonight @ 6pm. Don’t be late. You read the incoming text with a grin. Even in text, Suga is straight to the point. Shoving your phone back into your pants pocket, you leave the small kitchenette and head back to your small desk with a fresh cup of coffee in hand. You can still remember the looks of horror on the boys’ faces after Suga announced your immediate hire and it’s been two weeks since then. Was it wrong to take pleasure in their discomfort? Probably. Would you stop? Never.

“Is that a smile I spy on Miss Y/N Y/L/N’s face? The Devil must be here to collect his wife,” Paul exclaims as you sit back down. You laugh and prop your chin on your hand as you stare at him over your desktop screen.

“Can a woman not just be happy, Paul? Why does it have to come at the expense of a man?” you ask, a fake feign of hurt in your voice.

“Of course women can. Just not you,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. You shake your head, your smile still present on your face. Paul would not ruin your good mood.

“Ouch. That one might have hurt if I actually gave a fuck about your opinion of me,” you say while reorganizing the folders Manager Kim had dropped onto your desk from the day before.

“Y/N! Language!” Laura chides as she walks into your cramped office space. You roll your eyes and flip through the countless papers on your desk to order them in order of priority.

It’s honestly a miracle that none of you manage to murder each other while you work though it’s crossed your mind several times. JM Events and Affairs is a lucrative event planning company, but apparently could not afford to at least place its clerks in a room larger than 500 sq ft. Being entry level is a struggle most days, but eventually it would all pay off and you would become a successful event planning guru. For now though, you’re stuck here with the imbeciles you had to call co-workers.

“Manager Kim wants to see us in her office,” James says as he pokes his head around the wall of the cubicle, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. “Now,” he emphasised. He doesn’t wait for you to follow.

Paul shoots you and Laura a raised brow of confusion as you grab your notepads and file down the long corridor to Manager Kim’s well decorated office. She’s an older woman who’s been in the business longer than you’ve been alive. She credits her success to always staying ahead of the trend even if she didn’t create it, though most times she did. Her style is impeccable and she is meticulous as she is jovial. She’s, quite simply, a genius.

James has already taken a seat in one of the two plush grey chairs in front of her large, industrial sized desk. Rows of colorful binders are organized on her desk - no doubt detailing the new events the company is planning on hosting. Manager Kim enjoys the arts and it’s evident from the variety of paintings that hang on the wall. Today, she’s dressed in a powder blue knit sweater that matches whatever shade of nail polish she wears tucked into a pair of belted, high waisted wide leg pants. Her matching steel toe boots peek from underneath.

“Ah, good. You’re all here,” she begins as she sits behind her desk. You gesture for Laura to take the other available seat as you stand behind James and Paul stands next to you.

“We have a new client considering the company for an event. He’s very important for future networking opportunities so I expect the very best work from you.” Manger Kim usually wasted no time getting straight to the point and today is no different. “In fact, I’ve been monitoring your work very closely because I knew a client like this would be coming very soon,” she stands from her desk, navy blue binder in hand.

“What kind of event is he planning on having?” James inquires, his pen ready to take notes.

“He didn’t give specific details, but I’m sure if we can book him for this minor event, he’ll give us the main one. I’m quite sure of it.” Manager Kim snaps the binder shut and smiles at you all. Her white blonde bob is immaculate, not a single strand out of place.

“Should we start drafting ideas now?” Laura asks.

“Yes, I need several drafts from each of you by 4pm this afternoon. Please have them -”

“Are we just supposed to forget about the other events we have coming up? This guy didn’t even give us any major details for effective planning!” Paul interrupts. Manager Kim turns to look at him.

“Well Paul, if this client is of no importance to you -” Paul tries to backtrack, but to no avail as Manager Kim continues on “- I will not need your drafts or your portfolio.” She beams at him and Paul blanches. You grimace.

“As I was saying. Please have your portfolios and 4 drafts submitted to me by 4pm today. They should be in priority order and include everything from food to colors, entertainment and venues. Remember, the customers knows best -”

“- but finesse, finesse, finesse,” you, Paul, James, and Laura finish. Manager Kim should have that framed and put on her wall.

“Lovely. Goodbye,” she waves no longer looking at you, already lost in her grueling event editing process. You knew better than to loiter and the four of you head back to your small workspace.

“You really fucked up there Paul,” you say as you sit down at your desk.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Paul deadpans. He drops his head quite heavily on his desk. Laura winces.

“It’s okay, Paul. Maybe you can still show her something and -” she starts.

“You know Manager Kim isn’t the forgiving kind,” James interrupts. “There’s nothing more he can do,” he finishes nonchalantly.

“I hate to agree -” you begin.

“No you don’t,” Paul cuts in.

“- but James is right. Manager Kim is all about quick thinking and Paul failed that test. He’ll have another time to redeem himself, but he has to sit this one out. You should be happy, Laura. Less competition,” you say with a shrug and flip open your notepad to start drafting.

“Do you even have an empathetic bone in your body, Y/N?!” Laura hisses as she walks over to rest a hand on Paul’s shoulder.

“Sometimes,” you reply. “But everyone has to eat and I refuse to go to sleep on an empty stomach.”

Laura looks disgusted at your answer and she goes back to consoling Paul. James had left the conversation a long time ago and you admired his ability to ignore almost everyone around him. His coldness and detachment made him ruthless in an unsuspecting way and you’d learned the hard way not to underestimate him. Laura would learn eventually that while people thought it was the strong who survived, it was really those who were able to adapt to any environment that really thrived.

It’s after lunch that you receive an email from Manager Kim requesting for you to meet her in the lobby in fifteen minutes without any further explanation. You ask no questions and sit in the lobby, counting the people that come out of the elevator that were not Manager Kim. It’s already 1:24 pm and you’ve just started your third draft. Creating on a time crunch with no real guidance is no walk in the park and you try to keep your frustrations under control as you run through possible color combinations for the event.

“Y/N! There you are! Let’s go,” Manager Kim calls as she exits the building without checking to see if you follow.

You scramble to grab your purse and notepad, scurrying across the lobby in the high heels she insists you wear. Manager Kim is already seated in a company car as you yank the passenger side door open and fall into the seat.

“Very good,” she says and wastes no time pulling into traffic. You awkwardly try to secure your seatbelt as she zips through the small spaces between cars. Gods protect you from this woman and her hazardous driving.

“Where are we going?” you ask after you manage to situate your purse, coat, and notepad in your lap comfortably.

“Downtown. We’re meeting with the client.”

“We?!” you repeat, surprised.

“That’s what I said isn’t it? We’re also late,” she says as she makes a sharp right turn onto Matthews St. You barely miss hitting a cyclist and you send up another small prayer for you to make it to your destination safely.

“What about the drafts and portfolios? Aren’t you going to review -”

“Did I say I wasn’t?” She glances over at you from the corner of her eye and you close your mouth. You would not fail this test.

Manager Kim pulls over into an impossibly tight space in front of a large corporate building that reads Hastings and Lewis. A well established law firm if you remember correctly. It has to be at least 14 stories high and exudes the architect’s vision of simple modern design with large windows and exposed steel structural support. You both exit the car and you align your steps with hers, your heels clicking in time against the marble flooring as you enter the building. You say good afternoon to the doorman who simply nods at you in greeting.

“Hello. How can I help you?” the receptionist asks behind the raised desk, her head barely visible.

“Yes, hello. My name is Madeline Kim. I have an appointment to speak with Mr. Cavallero at 2:15pm.” You glance at the clock behind the receptionist. 1:53pm. You bite your lip to hold your outburst. To be early is to be on time, you could hear her say.

The receptionist smiles and nods as she searches her computer for the appointment. “Yes, here it is. Please have a seat. Someone will come and get you shortly.”

Manager Kim nods and perches in one of the available seats. You shake your head as you take a seat next to her, ignoring the itching in your palm to pull out your notepad and finish your drafts. You can tell by the way Manager Kim is sitting, not scrolling through her various binders or the calendar on her phone, this is a formal interview and you would not be the one to fuck it up. There would be time to finish the drafts. You would make sure of it.

“Ms. Kim?” A young man in a sharp, black suit stands in the center of the room smiling at you. 2:05pm. Right on time. “If you could follow me this way, please.” He turns towards the golden elevators and you follow behind him. “My name is Lewis Carlisle and I am the assistant to Mr. Cavallero,” he tells you as he pushes the button for the 10th floor. He sticks his hand out for each of you to shake.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Carlisle. Thank you for having us. This is my assistant, Ms. Amani Jung.” A lie, but you go with it.

“A pleasure to meet you,” you say with a bright smile and a firm handshake. He returns a smile of his own.

The elevator doors open and you follow Mr. Carlisle through the open workspace plan. This is the kind of place that promoted collaboration and teamwork. How could it not when the light airy feeling made you want to turn to your neighbor and ask them what they thought about a particular problem? JM Events and Affairs should have hired their interior designer. Maybe some of their employees wouldn’t struggle as much to meet their deadlines.

“Mr. Cavellero unfortunately will not be able to meet with you in person today -” Manager Kim’s smile tightens at his words “- but he did relay all of his expectations for the company brunch,” Lewis says as he holds open the door to a small meeting room. It’s in the center of the floor and the walls are made of pure plexiglass. It screamed expensive.

“How wonderful,” Manager Kim comments as she sits down and sets her purse down on the ground.

“Would either of you like something to drink? Water? A Coke?”

“ A water with light ice will do, thank you,” she says.

“I’ll take a bottle of water, please,” you reply and sit down beside Madeline. You discreetly pull out your design notepad along with your actual note-taking pad. Lewis nods and promises to return quickly with your drinks as well as the file containing the event details.

“You seem upset,” you comment while scribbling down the words brunch and law firm onto a new blank sheet for your fourth and final draft, your brain already conjuring up ideas.

“What makes you think that?” she asks, turning to you slightly as she too sets up her own note-taking station.

“Your smile failed to meet your eyes,” you say nonchalantly. From the corner of your eye, you see her break into a grin as Lewis enters the room, a cup of water in one hand, a bottle in the other, and a slim manilla folder tucked underneath his arm.

“Thank you again, Mr. Carlisle,” Manager Kim says with another bright smile, her hand in his as they shake hands again.

“You’re very welcome. I’m sure Mr. Cavallero will love what you put together for brunch,” he replies.

The meeting seems to be a success and you’d gained some much needed insight for your fourth draft while being Madeline’s “assistant”. You’re no longer paying attention as you exit the meeting room and head back towards the main elevator, Madeline and Lewis making polite conversation. You run over all of your drafts as you check the time discreetly. It’s 3:20pm. You would still have enough time to review your plans and work on the others files Manager Kim had assigned. You grin in victory.

“Mr. Cavallero!” Lewis exclaims as the elevator doors open.

The man is an older gentleman with neatly groomed hair and warm brown eyes. His coal grey suit is neatly pressed, a sharp crease present in the center of his pant leg. Definitely high quality and only dry-cleaned. His smile displays a set of perfect of white teeth. As he steps out of the elevator, holding it open so it wouldn’t close, the Armani Exchange watch glitters under the artificial lights.

“Mr. Carlisle. I assume this must be our event coordinators. I’m sorry I couldn’t meet with you. An emergency meeting was called for a major case,” he apologizes.

“I understand, Mr. Cavallero. Things are sometimes out of our control. No need to explain,” Madeline says with a smile as she enters the elevator. You follow behind her. “Mr. Carlisle was quite capable. I will have Miss Y/L/N send over the final details for the event by Friday for your approval.”

Mr. Cavallero’s eyes shift over to you and he smiles. “I look forward to it. Enjoy the rest of your day, ladies.” He let the doors go as Lewis tells you goodbye, the doors closing off the last of his words.

Manager Kim’s shoulders visibly relax as you descend to the lobby, but you make no comment. Though their conversation was brief, something had clearly transpired between them. Madeline seems to have noticed you watching her as she inhales and fixes her posture. She was back to business.

“I assume I don’t have to tell you not to say anything about this meeting?” she asks as she nods her thanks to the doorman, your steps once more in sync as you exit the high rise building.

“What meeting?” You say with a grin as you wait for her to unlock the company car.

The heat of the staircase in Spiral welcomes you again like a familiar friend after not seeing them for a long time. There is still the hustle and bustle of vendors dropping off boxes as the final details of the new designs are being put into place. People couldn’t wait to see how Spiral had fared after the robbery - which you still didn’t believe was actually what happened - and it seems like Friday’s opening night couldn’t come soon enough. Even Paul and Laura were considering stopping by after all of the shit they talked before.

You enter the main space and glance around, looking for one of the boys. Your purse bag is heavy from the event files and you head over to set it on top of the bar while resting your aching feet. Paul, Laura, and James could not believe you’d managed to turn in your drafts and portfolio at exactly 3:57pm after being gone so long; they would eventually learn to not underestimate you. You glance around again and notice a group of people sitting in one of the newly upholstered booths quietly chatting to one another across the way. Were these the new employees?

“Already lounging on the first day of the job, Y/L/N?”

You look to your left as you shrug off your heavy overcoat and see Honcho coming around the bar, a pile of clothes in his hands.

“Of course not. I just wasn’t sure who to report to,” you say with a shrug.

“Well, you’re looking at him,” he replies with a grin. You have to stop your mouth from falling open. Of all people, it had to be him? “What? Are you disappointed?” he asks as he continues across the room to the small group. You grab your stuff and walk over after him.

“No, I just thought -”

“Thought it would be Suga? As much as you like to charge in and demand shit sweetheart, Suga is a very busy man and doesn’t have the time to appease you all the time. Sit,” he commands with a jerk of his head. You narrow your eyes at him, but obey. It’s only then that you notice the other five persons staring at you in confusion as you bickered. You swallow the urge to huff in annoyance as Honcho begins speaking.

“Thank you all for being on time. Congratulations on being hired. I’m Honcho and I’ll be your manager at Spiral. You’ll meet the rest of the guys later. These are your uniforms. We have a strict adherence uniform policy, so please do your best to be dressed in your proper attire. If you have long hair, it will be tied up or back in a bun or ponytail. Ladies, we ask that you wear red lipstick to match our colors. We’ve also given you options for bottoms: a skirt or pants.” Honcho holds up a pair of each for demonstration. “Whatever you decide to wear is up to you. We only ask that all your shoes are closed toed and we would prefer no sneakers; we’re trying to sell a vibe here. Any questions?” He doesn’t wait for anyone to speak up. “No? Great. If you could introduce yourselves to each other, that’d be fantastic.” He looks over to the boy on the other side of the booth.

“Uh, hi. My name is Micah. I’m 21 and recently graduated from college.” He tosses up a small wave before pushing his glasses further up his nose. He’s narrow shouldered and naturally blonde. Cute, if you will. They would chew him up and eat him alive if he continued to be so timid.

“Hey, I’m Luca. I’m 23 and a graduate student at Oberman.” Luca definitely fit the vibe Spiral os going for with his dark hair and dark eyes. He would have no problem wooing the numerous women who would walk through the door. A great business move in your opinion.

“Hey y’all, Savannah here. I’m 22 and working part time while in school.” Another blonde hair, blue-eyed coworker. How fun. The bubbles in champagne had nothing on her as she beams at the rest of you around the table.

“I’m Jack. I’m 24 and I guess I’m here to save up for a new car? Need some extra cash,” he finishes with a bashful grin. The girl next to you snorts. Jack is a big man with broad shoulders and you would assume he was hired as additional security based on his size. Imagine a man as big as him bringing over your strawberry mojito? Exactly.

“Giselle. 21. Law student. Loans have to pay themself off somehow right?” Luca laughs and Giselle smiles. Yuck. If you weren’t already sick of the office romance - if you could call it that - between Laura and Paul at JM, you were going to have to endure another one here? Gods be with you.

“Y/N Y/L/N. I’m 22 and an event planner,” you say nonchalantly and turn to Honcho, waiting for his next instructions.

“Not going to tell us the reason you’re here?” he smirks and you roll your eyes.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“I’d like a lot of things, Y/L/N. In fact, I can think of a few -”

“Gross,” you say, interrupting him, your face turned down in disgust. He laughs.

“Always think someone wants something from you, huh?” He shakes his head, still chuckling. “Everyone, go get changed and I’ll explain your duties to you once you get back.”

The six of you ease out of the booth, grabbing your uniforms as you head to the restrooms to get changed. As you follow Savannah and Giselle, you can’t help but scan the hallway for anything you could have missed as the memory of your second night here flashed across your mind. There had to be something that you were missing.

“I hope these uniforms are cute,” Giselle grumbles as she steps into an empty stall.

“I’m sure it’ll look great,” Savannah chirps.

You step into your own individual stall and drop your stuff on the floor. Slipping out of your heels, you step out of your slacks and tug off your blouse. You hold up the uniform shirt. It’s a plain black t-shirt with the letters in red spelling out Spiral in a spiral formation. The pants are made of a faux leather shiny material. They look tight and the sides have cut outs with strings laced in them from hip to ankle. The skirt is exactly the same. You sigh. This was really the vibe?

You dress quickly and tug on your Doc Martens. Honcho would have to wait for the lipstick. Exiting the stall, you see Savannah trying to adjust the strings on her pants while chewing her lip.

“Is it supposed to be this exposed?” she asks, checking herself out in the mirror.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” Giselle says exiting the stall and tugging down the hem of her skirt.

“So much for equality in the workplace huh?” you say. The two of them laugh.

The three of you return to the main space, Micah, Luca, and Jack already back at the booth with Honcho. Their eyes widen when they see you.

“Looking good ladies,” Honcho calls with his traditional large grin. Of course he would comment.

“Yeah, yeah. What’s next?” Giselle asks as she wiggles her way back into the booth, trying to cover her modesty.

“We’re going to take a tour of the facilities, get you acquainted with the space, and fill out the last pieces of paperwork. We’ll also have you help with some of the decorations; don’t worry, you’re going to get paid for this session. Then, we’ll see you on Friday for your shifts,” he replies. “Alright, let’s go.”

Again, he doesn’t wait for you to follow. As you’re setting your belongings down to catch up with the rest of the group, you spot Jin heading towards the bar. Just the man who you needed to see.

“Are you coming Y/N?” Savannah calls to you as the group heads up to the second level.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there!” you lie, knowing damn well you’re going to ambush Jin. You pretend to search for something in your purse as you double-check the group is far enough on the second level to not notice you not following before you head over to Jin.

“Well hello Jin,” you say as you wiggle your way onto a bar stool.

“Y/N,” he says with a chuckle. “What can I do for you?”

“Just answer a few simple questions.” you smile as you rest your chin on your palm.

“Alright,” he replied skeptically.

“Where’d you move the body?” The bottle of Aperol nearly slips out of his grip as he turns to look at you.

“Excuse me?” There’s no laughter in his voice.

“The body of the man in the bathroom,” you clarify. “How’d you get it to disappear like that?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replies, busying himself with stocking up the bottles of alcohol under the shelf. He won’t meet your eyes. You know he’s lying; his body language says it all.

“Oh come on, Jin. You can tell me. It’s not like I’m going to go to the cops or anything,” you say nonchalantly. “Clearly they didn’t seem to care since they weren’t that thorough with their questions.”

“Y/N, I really don’t know what you’re talking about. You were concussed remember? Maybe you imagined whoever you’re talking about.” He glances up at you. You roll your eyes.

“Really Jin? You’re going to use the concussion line on me? You knew that I shot him; I told you that. I just want to know where you put him and why there were no reports of a missing man from the incident on the news at all,” you say with a shrug. He finally turns to face you.

“Maybe nobody reported him missing. Maybe he slipped out after you ducked behind the bar. What does it matter? Look, it was a traumatic night. For all of us. I don’t know anything about whatever or whoever you’re talking about. Hell, you probably don’t know either. Please, don’t make this working relationship anymore difficult for yourself than it already is. Just come in, keep your head down, and head out.” His hands are splayed out on the bar and the distance between you has closed significantly from when he’d started talking as he stares you down. “Worry about the things that concern you, like repaying your debt.” His tone is sharp and final. There’s no friendliness in his face either.

“Y/L/N! You’re not getting paid to sit on that pretty little ass of yours. Get up here now!” Honcho yelles down to you over the railing of the second floor balcony.

Ignoring Honcho, you cock your head and look at Jin again, thinking. “Okay Jin. Heard you loud and clear.”

You hop off the bar stool and adjust your skirt. You say nothing further as you head upstairs. It seems as though Jin would be of no help to you, but honestly, it didn’t matter. If it didn’t concern you, why was Jin lying about knowing what man you were talking about? Why had Suga tried to discreetly cover up that paper in his office the other day? What was really going on at Spiral? You’re determined to figure it, even if you have to work extra hours to do it. What happens in the dark must eventually come to light.

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

joon-ipersgirl, 2020

#bts fanfiction #bts mafia au #namjoon x reader #namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #fic: double entendre

[thcllslnrd]

Strange Love

!! EDIT !!: So this is like kjdfhsk from June? I’m just posting it cause it’s still not bad and I don’t wanna get rid of it, but I’m not gonna finish it since I’ve now finished all 7 seasons and I know these characters totally don’t fit the way I assigned them here anymore. Vampire Bill is...not the guy he was in season 1 lmao. I just wanted to post smth while I’m in the middle of other things, so have an unfinished Parksborn AU!!

---

I started watching True Blood recently and even though I've only seen season one so far, the idea of a AU for Parksborn won't leave my head. I mean, a southern Peter with telepathy and vampire Harry? Mmm yes please.

Summary:  “In a society where humans and vampires co-exist, Peter Parker  may have found the perfect boyfriend. Peter is clairvoyant and constantly hears people's thoughts, which makes dating a bit difficult. When vampire Harry Osborn walks into the bar where he works as a waiter, Peter realizes that he can't `hear' what he's thinking and he is immediately attracted.” (Aka the first episode of True Blood written as a Parksbron AU)

Character assignments: Peter as Sookie, Harry as Bill, Flash as Jason, Gwen as Sam, MJ as Arlene, and Miles as Lafayette.

Peter couldn't help when people's thoughts became his own.

He always tried his best to shut everyone out when waiting tables at Stacy's or walking through town, but sometimes it was too much. Took too much energy to shut too many people out. It wasn't like he could control whatever this was, either! But it made the waiters job hard some days.

Tonight was one of the harder days at Stacy's, the local bar getting busy with the usual crowd of people and then some. Only a handful of the customers weren't drunk yet, but it was only 11 p.m. and Peter had no doubt everyone would be hammered in no time. It was a Saturday night so he knew it was bound to end up like this, but he hated busy nights. Busy, drunk, loud nights always meant people's minds were busy, drunk, and loud.

Jesus, how the hell are Parker and Thompson even close to brothers? They're so fucking different, I jus-

How the hell am I gonna pay my rent after all this! Goddamn I don't wanna have to go to that bar and dance around again....

That woman seriously needs to lay off the burgers, I can see them dragging down her face.

Please Jesus, give me just this one whiskey. It's all I want, just a little bit, I know you'll give me the strength to not want shot number two.

Shit, Flash's one hell of a looker. To bad he's always hanging around with his brothers best friend, I'd love a piece of that a-

Peter slammed the two pitchers of Bud onto the table of 4 townsfolk, biting his tongue to keep his mouth shut in front of them.

"My brother can do however he pleases, thank you very much," The brunette mumbled, walking back towards the plate shelf.

Miles, as always, was working hard in the kitchen between stirring something in a two foot tall pot and flipping fresh made burger patties on the flat grill. For as long as Peter's been working at this bar, the other man's been wearing an apron in that kitchen and keeping everyone company. He was funny, gave good advice, and was all around good company.

As he sat down the spatula to the right of the flat grill, Miles started shaking spices into a separate bowl.

"I need'a order of fries. And if you dropped a handful on the floor for me that would be just wonderful." Peter sighed, resting his arms against the cold metal.

"You got it, hun," The darker man finally turned to the waiter, seeing his uniform and overall look for the day. "Goddamn, Petey! What're you doin' with that tight shirt and fluffed up mob'a hair...D'you have a date tonight?"

"No, but when I wear fittin' close I get more tips."

"You got that right. These hillbillies are suck'as for good packagin'."

"And if I act like I don't have'a brain in my skull the tips are even bigger. If I do, there'all a sudden scared a'me." Miles just laughed, looking up from his bowl and pointing to the other with a handful of spice shakers.

"You got it wrong, hun. They ain't scared a'you, they're scared of them leeegs-"

"Miles Morales! I don't wanna hear that from you tonight!" Peter huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Miles just kept laughing as a bright red-haired girl walked up next to him, putting one plate in each hand. That was Mary Jane, or MJ, and she'd only been working at Stacy two or three years when Peter started. She was sweet, helped him out a lot when he just started serving and taking orders. She had strong opinions, and not the greatest taste in men, but she was always happy and fun to talk to.

"What in the blue hell are you two talkin' 'bout?" Miles turned to the woman with a grin, keeping his hands busy with the food.

"Oh, the usual, Parker's legs an' how everyone wants a hunk outta him." Peter was quick to roll his eyes, looking between the man in the kitchen and the waitress next to him.

"Well, I'm sure he'll figure it all out one day, Miles." MJ took a quick glance between the two before winking and walking off, hands full with paid food to serve.

Peter just bit his lip and walked off with another sigh, knowing the fries would take another minute. He had other orders to attend to, so he went to the bar and grabbed a tray to carry drinks before locking eyes with the bartender, Gwen Stacy.

Gwen was the owner of this bar, which used to belong to her father's before he passed away. They've been friends for years too, met their senior year of high school and have been fairly close since. Peter had always been the loner type anyway but Gwen was a good change of pace. She got along with everyone of all gender, sexuality, color, and opinion (even if she didn't always agree). It made her a good bartender since she had to deal with pretty much everyone in town on the regular, and most importantly a good friend. It did make it strange for her to become his boss after so many years of being friends too, but it left out any awkward 'co-worker and boss' interactions. For the most part.

"How's your night goin', Parker?"

Peter pushed a smile. "I've had better, but it's not'a total wreck."

"Well, is there anythin' I can do to improve it for ya'?"

Peter ran a hand back through his hair, eyebrows knit close in thought. At first he was actually thinking on something to improve his night like an extra break or maybe a free drink, but something changed in the room. He wasn't sure how obvious it was to everyone else in the bar, the sudden silence, but he felt like he could breathe again. No more thoughts about food, beer, liquor, drugs, men, women, sex, all of it was gone. Peter quickly realized it wasn't only everyone's thoughts but everyone in the bar had done dead silent. The whole bar was quick as lightening to end their private conversations. But...why? The hell was everyone so quiet and alarmed by?

Peter didn't see why until he turned around.

Someone new, entirely unfamiliar had walked into Stacy's tonight. It wasn't that new faces weren't welcome here, but there was something clear as day about this new guy. He was tall, but couldn't be more than half a foot taller than Peter, and paler than a piece of printer paper with dark red hair and chocolate brown eyes. There was no question about who he was or what he'd order tonight.

Peter turned back towards the bar and Gwen before him and the redheaded stranger could lock eyes. "My god, I think Stacy's just got its first vampire!"

"Yeah, I think you're right."

"Can you even believe that!? Right here in little ol' Bon Temps? I don't think I've ever been so excited to meet one since they came outta the coffin two years ago!" Peter kept a hold of his tray and pulled his order pad and pen out of his shirt pocket.

He wasn't sure how or why, but when the brunette turned to to serve the vampire, he was already looking right at him. It might have been weird but it was even weirder that Peter was excited, interested to do this. Vampires have been living alongside humans for a solid two years now, but for what he knew, he's never met one before. Especially not in the workplace. Besides, in a small town like this, you rarely got something this exciting.

The brunette walked his way up to the vampire, a smile clad on his face. "Hi, welcome to Stacy's! And what can I get for you tonight?"

The man in the booth was quiet, almost as if he knew everyone was still watching out of the corner of their eyes and thinking about his presence alone. The conversations had picked back up, but if he didn't drown out all the thoughts, they all had something to do with this new vampire.

"Do you guys have any of that bottled, synthetic blood?" Peter bit his lip, already knowing the answer.

"No, I'm really sorry. Gwen got some a last year, but no one ordered it and she had'ta dump it all out after it went bad." He stopped for a second before talking again, trying to fill the silence. "You're our first vampire. Small town."

"Yeah, I think that woman over there's on to me."

"Oh, that's Gwen! She's cool, trust me." Peter kept his smile after looking back to Gwen, unsure why she was watching him so closely.

"Am I...that obvious?"

"A-A little? I mean, I noticed the moment I saw you, but I don't know about everyone else." Peter lied, because he shouldn't be able to know what everyone else thought.

"Well...if you don't have any blood, then I'll just take a glass of red wine. Gives me a reason to stay."

"Oh...o-okay, I can do that for you! Whatever the reason, I'm glad you're staying." Peter smiled, tapping the end of his pen to the notepad.

His smile started to twitch when the woman sitting in the next booth leaned back, pressing her head close to the vampires but keeping her eyes locked on Peter.

"Oh, don't mind Peter. He's craz'r than'a ol' mad dog." There was a real badly spoken tone of seduction in her voice, and if that was her say of trying to flirt or lead on either one of them, she wasn't doing very well.

Peter couldn't help but make a slightly irritated face at her, waiting until he turned away to roll his eyes and huff. He saw the fries waiting at the kitchen window and quickly delivered those and a side of ranch to a different table before getting a glass of red wine from the blonde bartender. He held it, the only thing in one hand, and placed it on the table right in front of the vampire.

"You're reason to stay," Peter smiled, even though noticing the woman from the other booth was in now in the same booth as the redhead.

He clearly seemed to be annoyed, uninterested, but she had her hands all over his shoulder and arm, pressed close. He already felt bad for the vampire having to deal with this woman, until her thoughts were all he could hear, loud in her head. She was doing quick and fairly complicated math as she looked the vampire up and down (as if she was gonna bite him instead), raving about the money she'd get for selling all his blood. When the other woman gave him a weird look, unaware that Peter was even able to listen in on her intentions, he quickly snapped out of it and mouthed a sorry! out before rushing back to the bar.

Well shit.

"Gwen, we've gotta problem, Sarahlee is planning on drainin' that vampire clean and sellin' his blood!" Gwen raised an eyebrow at the man, busying her hands with cleaning a glass.

"Wait, you listened in on her and heard all that?" Peter sighed, knowing it shouldn't have to be much of a question. All of his close friends and family knew of his skill, proved it one way or another until they understood, and what fool would talk about draining a vampire for their blood right next to them?

"Yes! Clear as day!"

"I'm sure he'll make it out okay! Besides, he's a vampire, right? He should be able to handle himself just fine."

Peter turned back to check in on the undead red head, see if the glass of wine had been touched, but no one was in the booth anymore. Not the vampire, or the touchy woman clinging to his arm. His eyes went eyes, frozen for a split second before moving quick and sudden.

"Damn! Gwen, cover me!"

He wasn't quite yelling but he was still talking too loud, dropping his note pad on the middle of the floor and busting through the front door. The hot air hit his skin all too quickly but Peter couldn't even take it in, running down the small set of front steps and out into the parking lot. He had to stop, close his eyes, and focus, of all hopes of finding and trying to help this vampire were blown away. He did just that, clearing his mind and waiting until he got the hint of her thoughts, an echo.

Damn needle...should I keep...worth the wait...

Peter ran as quietly as possible towards the thoughts, stopping dead in his tracks after a few steps to only now realize he was totally defenseless. He knew how to fight with his hands, but considering this woman was handling a vampire all by herself, tonight wasn't the night to take chances. Taking a quick glance around all of the cars, he found a thick link of chain in the open bed of a truck, taking it out and wincing at the sound of metal on metal. If was a quieter carry though, which was good for while she got closer to the vampire and his kidnapper.

For a split second the brunette thought what if Gwen was right? What if the vampires already got his escape planned and he only gets in the way? What if he only makes things worse? Her words were starting to get to him, convincing him to start backing away while he had the chance, until he saw that he was entirely right.

The redheaded vampire from before was now laid out on the ground, needles and wraps all tied and poked into his left arm as the other woman was starting in on his right. She was struggling, and Peter didn't know if it was finding the vein or getting the needle through his skin or what. He was quiet, dead silent but taking a few more steps from behind the struggling woman. The vampire noticed him after awhile, squinting like he was confused or couldn't make out who he was, but the brunette just raised a single finger to his lips in signal for him to keep as he is.

Once Peter was only a yard or so behind the kidnapper, he took a deep breath in before holding the chain with both hands and swinging it against the woman like a baseball bat. She let out a loud gasp as she fell on her stomach, coughing a few times and turning her head to see Peter, still holding the chain and fully prepared to use it again if needed.

"Oh you prissy son of a bitch!" Sarahlee hissed, either from the pain or anger, and pulled a curved blade out from her back pocket. She held the knife out in front of her, just as prepared to use her weapon as he was, but missed on the first swing.

"Step back from him, you low-rent, roadkill eatin, white trash." Peter warned her as harshly as he could, he other woman just laughing and pointing her blade.

"You have no idea who the fuck you're messing with, motherfucker. So just keep your pretty little hands away from me and this vamp, before you get on my bad side."

"Oh please, at this point I'm already sure you don't have any other side."

#parksborn #parksborn fanfiction #fanfic #peter parker #harry osborn #true blood #true blood au #au fanfic #unfinished #sookie stackhouse #bill compton #thcllslnrd #thcllslnrd fanfic

[makeste]

why Kaminari Denki is not the U.A. traitor (and why the traitor is actually Hagakure)

thank you, anon! okay first off, my opinion of the Kaminari Traitor Theory is: nah, he ain’t. but as requested, I will break this down and refute the various arguments point by point.

this is a big compilation of various “Kaminari is the traitor” posts from 4chan (general warning btw for 4chan being 4chan), which I got from this reddit thread. some of these are clearly shitposts, but on the whole it seems fairly comprehensive, so I’m gonna use this as my primary source for theory arguments. if there are any major arguments for this theory that I missed please let me know.

also! a huge part of the reason why I don’t subscribe to this theory is that I am 1000% sure that Hagakure is the actual traitor. so the second half of this post will consist of a detailed explanation as to why I’m all-in on that theory to the point of dismissing any and all other theories. I feel like that’s worth clarifying a bit more.

so! here goes.

“his proto design is that of a villain”

lol I’m trying to think of how to put this diplomatically. this is something I see a lot, people using Horikoshi’s prototype sketches and notes as evidence for various theories. the thing is, this is shaky ground at best. there’s a reason why these are proto designs and not the final product. Deku’s proto design had emo kid hair, and proto!Katsuki was an obnoxious prep school kid lol. plans change, and thank fucking god for that tbh.

but that aside, “he looks like a villain” is not in any way a solid argument to begin with. Horikoshi has made a point in the actual story of showing that people’s preconceived notions of what heroes and villains “should” look and behave like doesn’t always line up with reality. and in this case we’re not even basing it on behavior, but solely on how he looks, which is really kind of discriminatory. by that logic, one could look at, say, Shouji, and be all, “well he’s clearly the traitor.” just because someone looks scary at first glance doesn’t mean they actually are. all in all, I don’t buy it.

“Kaminari is the only one who could have told the villains where the camping trip was being held since he’s pretty much a walking GPS”

I present to you a panel from chapter 83:

literally any one of the students could have used their phone’s GPS to pinpoint their location and send it to the villains. they weren’t on any kind of communications lockdown, and even if they were, there was no practical way to enforce it. so this argument doesn’t really hold water for me. even if Kami’s quirk did work that way, which we don’t really have evidence of aside from one weird line in the USJ arc that has never since been expanded on, that doesn’t really work as evidence of him being the traitor when there are 39 other kids who could have done the exact same thing without a quirk.

“his dumbness is fake”

this is honestly the one aspect of this theory that I least understand. the thing is, this isn’t a theory. this is a what-if. it’s as if it occurred to someone one day, “lol what if he was just faking” and then this entire elaborate conspiracy headcanon was built up around that and eventually evolved into what we have today. this just doesn’t make sense to me at all. is there any evidence of him actually faking it? I feel like people just went “omg that would be such a cool twist” and then started arguing why it could be canon.

anyways I personally think Kaminari is 100% certified organic dumbass, and frankly I love him for that. where is the respect for the dumbasses of the world. Kaminari is still a great character even if he’s not secretly a JUST AS PLANNED double agent. you don’t need to make him evil for him to be interesting.

“look at his sneering face here, though”

okay yeah but hear me out: he’s a little shithead, lol. I mean, do you also think Bakugou is the traitor or.

“I edited this picture to make him look more evil, look”

okay??? lol, what. I think we can just move right along from this one.

“he didn’t bother with a costume, this must mean he doesn’t need help controlling his ability”

this I don’t get at all. a lot of the kids went into hero school not having a clear idea of what kind of costume features would best suit their quirks. that’s only natural; they’re still inexperienced. it is in no way any kind of indicator of any deception on their part. Kaminari is extremely powerful, but until recently he hasn’t had the guidance he needed to help him figure out how to harness that power better. and seeing as he has now made several modifications to his costume since starting at U.A., this argument is out of date.

“it’s scary how much traitor kaminari would make sense”

a lot of these really are just shitposts, huh? maybe I should have picked a better source. but just, like. what even is the logic here? “if he’s actually not stupid THEN HE MUST BE EVIL”? I really am trying to give this theory a fair shake you guys, even though it probably doesn’t seem that way. but this is just leap after leap. I keep thinking that I must have missed something crucial but as far as I can tell this is it.

“Monoma’s gonna copy his quirk and figure it out”

I do want to see Monoma copy his quirk, but only because seeing him go all “wheeeey” would be absolutely amazing tbh.

“reminder that kaminari thought stain was cool”

this one is actually a reasonable point. but listen, you have to keep in mind that Kaminari is a sixteen-year-old boy who gets easily swept up in the latest crazes and memes and fads. he’s naturally curious, and very open-minded and accepting, even when he perhaps shouldn’t be. but it’s as much a strength as it is a weakness, if not more so. those same traits make him the friendliest member of class 1-A (with the possible exception of Kirishima), allowing him to get along well even with a sentient cactus like Bakugou, and to stubbornly befriend Shinsou all of fifteen minutes after Shinsou announced that he wasn’t there to make friends lmao. he’s very unprejudiced, and when you put that together with how excitable he is, you can see how that might make him a bit more susceptible to getting caught up in stuff like the Stain hype train. it doesn’t make him evil. hell, even Deku had a kind of begrudging respect for Stain. I personally can’t stand Stain at all so I don’t get it myself lol, but it seems to be canon that he had a real charisma which many people were swayed by even if they didn’t agree with his ideals.

“>hanging wrist watches on the wall  - Who the hell does this”

you know what that’s a fair point too.

“his room is tacky and shows no personality”

okay in seriousness this is barely worth addressing because it’s so far of a reach, but fine. the thing is, Kaminari’s core personality is that of a typical teenage boy. that’s his role in the class. he’s just a normal guy, because you need to have some normal people around to balance out this cast of extravagant weirdos. and anyways, if we’re accusing people of being evil simply because their rooms lack personality, Ojiro and Shouji’s rooms are right. there. I’m just saying.

“he was in remedial too [on the school trip]. avoiding combat”

so were Sero, Kirishima, Mina, Satou, and Monoma. what’s more, they didn’t know that the remedial kids were going to be barred from participating in the test of courage. most of them were devastated to realize that lol. anyways so yeah this isn’t really proof of anything.

“[the night] before the attack Kaminari is clearly missing”

this is referring to this panel from chapter 75:

however, there’s actually a whole chapter in the second light novel about Iida going around in the middle of the night checking on his sleeping classmates (which is actually very sweet) while also trying to find his glasses, and said chapter establishes that Iida is in fact the one missing in this scene. because he’s wandering around tucking people in and shit. Kaminari is actually the one under the pile of pillows.

anyways, this is getting long and I haven’t even gotten into the real meat of this post yet, so I’ll just address a couple of the remaining arguments real quick.

but if he’s really that stupid how did he get into U.A.” - he studied!!! also he’s not really that stupid! he can be very bright, he’s just easily distracted.

L pose – as others have pointed out, this...

...is very likely just a variation of his finger gun pose, as seen here:

but even if it’s not, my rebuttal for the Stain argument applies here as well. my boy loves his memes. this would have been right in the midst of all the Deika City coverage, and the PLF probably took the opportunity to throw a few poses in there. it’s probably the trendy thing on Instagram right now. in any case, what it is not is proof that Kaminari is the person who broke into the U.A. offices and stole the staff schedule in order to facilitate the League’s planned invasion of USJ. nor is it proof of Kaminari being the one who gave away the training camp’s location. 

and segueing into the second part of this post now, this, IMO, is what so many of these traitor theories are missing. if you’re trying to identify who the U.A. traitor is, these are the two incidents you need to look at. I feel like a lot of people get swept up in what-if speculation, and forget what sparked this whole notion of there being a mole at U.A. in the first place. it’s specifically because of these two attacks, which could not have been planned without the assistance of an inside person providing information to the League from within UA. therefore, if we’re trying to identify who the traitor is, these are the only two questions we actually have to answer:

who, if anyone, had the opportunity to steal the staff schedule during Shigaraki’s break-in in chapter 12, and

who was it that gave away the training camp’s location and allowed Dabi and co. to invade and kidnap Bakugou?

that’s it. this, IMO, is what the focus should be on. and here’s the thing: while we still don’t have a definitive answer for the second question, we do have an answer for the first, and Horikoshi gave it to us all the way back in that same chapter.

but before I get to that, let’s back up and revisit that memorable incident. recall, if you will, the events that took place on the day of the break-in. class 1-A voted on a class president, and afterwards, during their lunch period, the security alarm went off as a result of Tomura doing this to the door and allowing the press to swarm the school:

initially, Rat Principal speculates as to whether a villain might have taken the opportunity to sneak in. but given the later incident at the training camp, as Present Mic rightly points out, it’s far more likely that there is a traitor in their midst instead. someone who had both the means and opportunity to take advantage of the chaos caused by the press, and somehow steal a copy of the staff schedule from right under U.A.’s nose.

given that this same person is almost certainly the one who later on gave the training camp info to the villains as well, this narrows down the field of potential suspects to either one of the teachers, or a student from class 1-A or 1-B. obviously if it’s a teacher then it could be any one of them, so there’s really no point in trying to narrow it down. the same goes for 1-B since we’re not even introduced to them until the following arc and we have no idea what they were doing during this incident. so for now, the question becomes: which, if any of the class 1-A kids had the opportunity to steal the schedule during chapter 12?

and for the answer, we need only revisit the class president voting records:

incidentally, this is something I can’t take credit for, because it was Viz’s translator Caleb Cook who originally pointed it out on his Twitter. but anyways. just in case this isn’t clear, the results are as following: 

3 votes - Deku (himself, Ochako, and Iida)

2 votes - Yaomomo (herself, and Shouto)

1 vote - Jirou, Tsuyu, Ojiro, Kaminari, Bakugou, Sero, Kirishima, Tokoyami, Mineta, Satou, Kouda, Mina, Shouji, and Aoyama

for anyone doing the math, that is... nineteen votes.

curious, for a class consisting of twenty kids. and downright suspicious given the events that take place less than an hour later. assuming that each student voted for him or herself as implied, what this means is that every kid in class 1-A is accounted for on the day of the break-in, except one. and it’s not Kaminari.

it’s Hagakure.

Hagakure is not featured in any of the panels before or after the vote, either. true, she’s invisible, but she should still be wearing her uniform at the very least. but she is very distinctively the sole 1-A student unaccounted for during this chapter. Hagakure, whose quirk is invisibility. Hagakure, who could have easily slipped into the teacher’s office during the press onslaught and taken a copy of the schedule unnoticed. Hagakure, who is also one of only two people (the other being Aoyama) whose whereabouts are also unverified during the subsequent attack:

now this is where it gets really interesting. why would Hagakure’s location be deliberately withheld? especially since later on she says that she was actually with Todoroki the whole time:

unlike Aoyama, whose whereabouts remain a mystery because He Is Just Like That, Hagakure freely discloses her own whereabouts. the thing is though, if it wasn’t actually a secret, then why did Horikoshi go out of his way to omit it in the first place? there are other characters whose locations we only know because Horikoshi put them on the map. specifically Tokoyami and Kouda, who are never actually shown battling once they get warped away (at least not in the manga). yet despite this, their whereabouts aren’t a secret. it’s a deliberate choice by Horikoshi to not confirm where Hagakure actually is, and coming on the heels of her also being conspicuously MIA in chapter 12, this IMO is a huge red flag.

anyway, so now let’s fast forward to the training camp arc. now here, we do know where Hagakure ends up. specifically, she gets KOed by the gas along with Jirou. this makes her one of only two U.A. students who are not actually involved in the fighting either at the forest, or back at the lodge with Vlad. at first glance, that might appear to make her less suspicious. and it’s true that unlike the USJ arc, there is no evidence here that directly ties Hagakure to this particular invasion (though the same is true for pretty much everyone else as well). however, there are two things I would like to point out. the first is Hagakure and Jirou’s position in the test of courage lineup:

directly behind Todoroki and Bakugou (a.k.a. the League’s target). this would have put her in a good position to signal to the League when to attack. note that the attack didn’t commence until Baku and Todo had reached the midpoint of the trail, which results in their decision to press forward through the forest rather than turning back toward the start.

this is suspiciously good timing on the League’s part. it’s not confirmed they knew exactly when to strike -- they could have just gotten lucky -- but it’s something worth taking note of. 

and the second thing is that being so close to the League’s target would have made it difficult for Hagakure to escape without having to fight the League. and since she wasn’t alone, she couldn’t just run off and hide like during USJ. so it may be that she made the deliberate choice to let the poison gas take the two of them out instead, especially if she knew in advance that it wouldn’t actually be lethal. this gives her an alibi for the attack without putting her in the awkward position of potentially having to fight her own allies. all in all it’s making the best of a tricky situation.

lastly, here’s the thing that really clinches the whole theory for me, and it takes place a couple of days later. now remember, the purpose of this whole attack was for the League to kidnap Bakugou. they go to all that trouble, even losing three of their own members in the process. and what happens afterwards, barely two days later? the heroes track down the villains using Momo’s homing device and Naomasa’s fortuitous tip, and are able to get Bakugou back, albeit at great cost. all of that meticulous planning, only for the League to end up on the run, and with Tomura’s mentor taken captive to boot.

this seems like a huge oversight on behalf of the U.A. traitor if they knew about the heroes’ attack and didn’t think to warn the League. and the thing is, we know for a fact that every single member of class 1-A did know in advance, thanks to Kirishima and Shouto. every member that is, except two.

hmmm.

so, to reiterate. Hagakure Tooru:

has no alibi for the incident in chapter 12 during which someone stole the staff schedule as confirmed by Kurogiri in chapter 13

has no confirmed alibi for the USJ invasion

had the means and opportunity to pass along the training camp location to the villains, assuming she had a phone with GPS

is one of only two 1-A students who did not know that the heroes had tracked the villains’ location, and thus would not have been able to pass along that vital bit of info. we know that the villains were caught unawares by the heroes’ raid, so this is huge

so that’s three incidents (not counting the training camp location which admittedly anyone could have done) in which Hagakure is singled out as one of only a handful of people with no alibi during a critical moment. now granted, there are a handful of other candidates who could possibly fall under suspicion for same reasons. Aoyama’s whereabouts are also unknown during the USJ invasion, and Jirou was also knocked out during the training camp attack. however, Hagakure is the only one who lacks an alibi for all three incidents. and, crucially, she is the sole 1-A student who did not vote in the class president election, something which is never explained or even brought up but which is hidden in plain sight.

for these reasons, I pretty much have to conclude that Hagakure is the U.A. traitor. it just lines up. and for me, the difference between the Hagakure theory and the Kaminari theory is that the evidence for the former is based on actual events in the canon, whereas the Kami theory seems to mostly just be speculation about whether or not he’s secretly evil. and look, I have no idea whether or not Hagakure is evil. I have no clue why she’d be doing this. she seems nice (although it’s worth pointing out that we have no idea what she actually looks like, who her family is, or even how old she really is for that matter. her quirk is awfully convenient for being a spy). motive is definitely a big question mark here. but the fact remains that all of the evidence we have thus far points to one candidate, and that’s her.

anyways! so that’s the end of my post about the Kaminari traitor theory, I guess! basically, he is not the traitor for many reasons, but the most compelling one is that the actual traitor has already been confirmed in my book. anyhoo, this plot has more or less been on hold since chapter 98, so it’s been quite a while since we’ve had much to speak of in terms of new evidence. but as of 242 it looks like things may finally be on the move again, so that’s exciting. regardless of my opinion on the Kami theory, I’m excited that people are talking about this again, and I really can’t wait to see how things develop from here.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #kaminari denki #hagakure tooru #bnha meta #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks #anon asks #bnha theory #u.a. traitor #traitor!hagakure #hagakure traitor theory

[shipaholic]

Omens Universe, Chapter 6 Part 1

Phew! After a short break, we are back. I have had a successful day’s NaNo-ing, and this entire chapter is queued up and ready to go, so let’s do it.

This is largely based on the unfilmed episode 3 bookshop scene, set in 1800, that is available in the script book. A lot of the dialogue is taken from there, although there are some twists!

Also, I did some minor edits to the last two parts, because I set up a subplot and then ground to a halt trying to write it, so I’ve taken it out for now.

Warning for a couple paragraphs of homophobia via analogy.

Link to the next part at the end.

(From the beginning)

(last part)

(chrono)

---

Chapter 6

AD 1800

A.Z. Fell & Co. stood before him on the street corner like an unwrapped chocolate box.

The door handles were polished bronze. A placard in the front declared that the grand opening was the coming Friday. He already had some marvellous ideas about opening hours.

He pushed open his front doors and strolled inside his new shop.

It was perfect. Just a few little jobs here and there. He summoned a stepladder and picked up the nearest armful of books. This, he would do without miracles. His shelving system would be both gratifying to himself and utterly incomprehensible to customers.

While he worked, the shop bell dinged.

“I’m afraid the shop will not be open until Friday, good people,” he called down. “But we will be having a grand opening immediately after lunch.”

The voice of the Archangel Gabriel said:

“We aren’t here to buy books, Azir -”

He broke off.

Zadkiel froze.

The hardback in his hands almost toppled to the floor. He shoved it into place and jammed his right hand in his pocket, hiding the gem on his finger from view. Luckily, his sideburns concealed the serpent-shaped gem under his ear.

He aimed a smile at his visitors. Gabriel was not alone. He and Sandalphon blinked up at him. Gabriel was impeccable in dove grey, Sandalphon frumpy in beige.

“Gentlemen,” he trilled. “A pleasure to already receive some interest. Mr. Fell will be delighted.”

“Uh. Good.” Gabriel eyed him like he was a woodland creature that had turned up somewhere unexpected. “Who are you?”

“Ezra Crawleigh. I’m Mr. Fell’s assistant. How do you do?” Zadkiel held out his right hand without thinking. He yelped, grabbed the nearest shelf, and toppled off the stepladder, which broke his fall in the loosest possible sense.

“Are humans normally that size?” Sandalphon asked Gabriel in a carrying whisper.

Zadkiel leapt to his feet, dusting off splinters. Sandalphon gaped. It was possible he’d just forgotten to close his mouth.

Gabriel coughed. “Sir, we are here to speak with... Mr. Fell, was it? Is he about?”

“He’s in the back. Please, make yourselves at home. Not that at home,” Zadkiel said sharply as Sandalphon picked up a book and sniffed it.

Both angels stared at him.

“Sorry! Everything’s new, that’s all. It’s like Christmas morning, you know, before the kids start screaming and the wrapping gets everywhere. It’s great that you’re here.” His smile probably looked a bit nauseous at this point. “Just a moment...”

He edged towards the back.

“Oh, Mister Fell! You have esteemed guests!”

He tried to stroll to the back room. Definitely no running. Nope, none of that.

“That human’s a bit… off,” said Sandalphon.

Gabriel agreed. The man had a very strange walk. It was sort of… swingy.

Also, his angelic senses all agreed that the man didn’t really feel human. There was nothing celestial or infernal coming off him, which would normally indicate a human, or possibly an animal, Gabriel wasn’t the best at identifying those. But the lack of an unearthly aura didn’t feel exactly neutral. It wasn’t as if that quality was lacking, more like it was… canceling itself out, somehow. Like opposites laid on top of one another. But that wasn’t possible.

Gabriel put it out of his mind. Impossible things were, well, impossible, and thus not worth acknowledging. As an Archangel, he didn’t believe in unknown unknowns.

Zadkiel, meanwhile, made it to the door to the back room, fell through it and split apart while saying “Aaaagh,” as loudly as he could get away with.

Crowley stared at Aziraphale, wide-eyed. He flapped his arms and mouthed, “Get out there!”

“Where will you go?” Aziraphale mouthed back.

“I’ll hide! Keep them talking!”

“Pardon? Didn’t catch that?”

“Talking, Christ, Aziraphale - oh, blehhh -”

Aziraphale reappeared in the shop as if given a shove in the back. He waved to the men-shaped beings across the room.

“Gabriel - hello. Sandalphon - it’s certainly been a while.” He picked his way towards them. “Listen, if it’s about that business in Paris, um, it wasn’t my miracle…”

Sandalphon still looked baffled, but he usually did, so there was no reason to panic on that account. Gabriel frowned.

“I have no idea whereof you speak, oh Angel of the Eastern Gate.” The frown lifted slightly. “We are here with good news.”

“Oh! How lovely.” Aziraphale came to a halt. A tiny round table piled with books separated him from the two angels. Some good news would go down a treat after the scare he’d just had.

“We’re bringing you home.”

Aziraphale stared.

“Promoting you back upstairs,” Sandalphon added, helpfully.

Something wrenching and painful happened to Aziraphale. Hopes he had never voiced, even to himself, burst and shrivelled up like sickly pods under the glare of the sun.

“I’m opening this bookshop on Friday,” he said, small-voiced. “If Mr. Hatchard can make a go of it, then I think I can really…”

“It’s an excellent idea.” Gabriel clapped his hands together. “Whoever replaces you down here can use it as a base of operations.”

“Use my bookshop?”

Gabriel’s smile turned flinty. “You’re being promoted. You get to come home.”

“I can’t imagine why anyone would want to spend five minutes longer in this world that they had to,” Sandalphon said.

“Aziraphale has been here for almost six thousand years. We must applaud such devotion to duty.”

There was a box in Gabriel’s hands.

“And it hasn’t gone unnoticed.”

The box opened to reveal a medal.

“I don’t want a medal,” Aziraphale said.

“That’s very noble of you.”

Aziraphale swallowed and met Gabriel’s eyes. The diamond was hard and searching and reflected nothing back at him.

Gabriel knew. He probably didn’t know what he knew, but that didn’t matter. Aziraphale had strayed, and he was being gently, lovingly forced back into the flock, where they could keep an eye on him. His lips felt numb. For some reason, they were still moving.

“But only I can properly thwart the wiles of the demon Crowley.”

Why. Why did he have to mention Crowley? Nothing he could have said would be worse.

Gabriel’s eye widened. “I do not doubt that whoever replaces you will be as good an enemy to Crowley as you are. Michael, perhaps.”

Aziraphale thought a very faint noise came from the back room. He hoped to God he had imagined it.

“Crowley’s been down here just as long as I have.”

Through flood and cave and lakes of wine. Through three thousand years of silence. Through everything.

“And he’s wily, and cunning, and brilliant, and…”

My other half.

For an instant, his heart stopped entirely.

Gabriel waited for the pause to become sufficiently uncomfortable. “It almost sounds like you like him.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth and tried to pull something up. A deflection, a lie. Nothing came. He stood sweating in the silence.

Gabriel crossed his arms. His expression was not triumphant, only terribly knowing.

“Where is your assistant?”

“Pardon?”

“The man with the walk. Is he still around?”

“Erm. He’s gone to lunch.”

“It’s eight a.m.”

Aziraphale’s mind swore loudly and then erased the memory of having done so.

“He keeps strange mealtimes. He’s a very… singular man.”

Gabriel leaned towards him. He looked oddly conspiratorial.

“Can I have a private word? In your back room, perhaps?”

This was it. Gabriel knew about Zadkiel. He knew Crowley was in the back. Maybe if he and Crowley ganged up, they could take him down… and then what, impersonate him to Sandalphon? What was wrong with him, he was an angel, angels didn’t attack their bosses, not unless they wanted to plummet into a lake of boiling sulphur at any rate -

Gabriel swept past him and headed for the back without permission. Aziraphale bobbed along behind him.

The little stockroom was empty. Aziraphale wanted to cast an eye around for Crowley, but held himself in. He stood to attention before Gabriel.

Gabriel looked down at him. He snapped his fingers. Aziraphale almost flinched. Then he realised Gabriel had performed a miracle to soundproof the room.

“Listen. Aziraphale. Can we talk?”

Aziraphale gave a squeak.

“Here’s the thing. I’m concerned for you. Six thousand years - that’s a stretch. It’s bound to have an effect on an angel. Maybe they’d start to get… overly attached? To someone on Earth that they shouldn’t?”

Aziraphale’s heart rate reached a fever pitch.

“Your assistant,” Gabriel said.

“Oh!”

He gaped at Gabriel.

“Now, obviously it’s happened before,” Gabriel went on. “The whole Nephilim thing, you remember that, you were there. Of course we made sure that no offspring would ever again be possible between our kind and humans, and not a moment too soon. Wow, was that ever disgusting! But, I suppose, if one were that way inclined, it would still be possible to develop certain feelings, a preference for one human in particular, say? And I need to make it plain that that is totally and one-hundred percent not allowed. Under any circumstances.”

Aziraphale’s mouth made a few shapes.

“Right you are?” he managed.

“Any. Circumstances.”

The diamond shone, menacingly.

Aziraphale fought down an urge to laugh hysterically.

“Yes,” he choked. “Yes. I - I see. Well. Thank goodness you arrived and - and set me straight. Not a moment too soon! Of course, I would never - but if I had - I would certainly feel my, er, preference dissipating.”

Gabriel clapped him painfully on the arm.

“Good man. So, you can just tidy up down here, and then come back to Heaven with me and Sandalphon.”

The air of giddy relief evaporated on the spot.

“We’re… going right now?”

Gabriel screwed up his face.

“Well, you know what? I might squeeze in a visit to my tailor first. Give us a couple of hours.”

Aziraphale nodded mutely. Gabriel waved.

“Catch you later.”

He swept out of the room. Soon after, the shop door slammed.

Aziraphale tiptoed to the door and checked they had both gone. He could feel no pulse of celestial energy in his shop. No angels here.

He closed the door and sagged against it.

A tiny black snake crept out from behind a shelf. It turned back into a full-sized Crowley. He dusted his coat off, frown lines deep between his hat and sunglasses.

“Well, then.”

“I could use something strong,” Aziraphale muttered.

“No time. You’re about to be press ganged back Upstairs.”

“So it appears.” Things were dire if Crowley’s first reaction to hearing bad news was to skip the drinking. “And replaced by Michael, apparently.”

Crowley shook his head vehemently. “No chance. Michael’s a wanker. Sit tight, angel. I’ve got a plan.”

Before Aziraphale could react, he snapped his fingers and vanished.

---

(link to next part)

#omens universe fic #omens universe #good omens #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #steven universe #yeah neil gaiman gets credit for most of these lines #'but why bother to include a scene that's mostly a retelling of (almost) canon?' #WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO KNOW *ominous laughter* #look Gabriel's always fun to hate #don't read too much into it

[willmelon]

i don’t usually do this but i feel Compelled to do a liveblog/review of Mouth Dreams so here goes

Please don’t read this if you haven’t heard the album yet as it’ll spoil Everything

(i’ll admit the idea came to me After i listened to Just a Baby so these first ones are gonna be relistened reviews)

first we got Yahoo. what can i say about this song? neil starts off Strong with incredibly sustained notes and just one phrase, in typical neil style. and he makes it work in so many different ways! honestly didn’t expect myself to get so attached so fast but that’s just the way his magic works ig. when the hoooooooos harmonise it almost brings tears to the eyes. i would love to see a group of choristers singing this with another guy on an electric keyboard. what a cold open. 9/10

of course then we go on to the titular track, the dimension of sound, the dimension of imagination, the dimension of doors. rod serling narrates the intro in his traditional monotone as the warbling twilight zone theme plays in the background. i tell ya i was actually Screaming when the track finished and he dropped the title! it may not be a song per se, sort of like Blockbuster from Mouth Moods, a ‘filler track’ if you will, but the effort in those fifty seconds cannot be ignored. it just goes to show once again how Good he is at what he does. 6.5/10

oh lawd, my favourite so far, Spongerock. reading the title i had absolutely No idea what to expect. the goofy goober song from the movie? winner takes all from band geeks? i was pleasantly surprised to find myself tapping out queen’s distinctive boom boom CLAP as the song progressed, and i was in complete Hysterics the whole way through, chanting along with the kids as the pirate encouraged me to sing louder. it’s such a beautiful fit the way they mesh together, and it’s one of those mashups that you listen to and think ‘why has nobody done this before?’ but neil is on a higher plane of existence than us and Knows where it’s at. you’re never the same after you’ve listened to Spongerock. 7.5/10

Just a Baby, where i stopped to begin this thing, is a melancholy song, which i’m not usually a fan of. i admit i don’t know the original song so i kept quiet until the last chorus or two. it’s the yang to the yin of Wow Wow from Moods, another sentence-mixer that was like a full Bop and barely gave you time to catch your breath. in Just a Baby you begin to empathise with the singer as he regales confusing times of his constant youth, including the time his mother (a train) shot a man in cold blood. it’s a powerful ballad, and it’s got a tasteful amount of justin bieber adding backing vocals to the chorus. i may have to deduct a few points cos the lyrics are gonna be hard af to remember. 7/10

ok next up we got Superkiller. this one’s totally blind! i’m. ehhhhh okay not diggin this one very much. ok that say something once line being repeated was comedy gold but talking heads are just like. kinda tuneless tbh. i’m glad he’s trying to lassoo it together with u can’t touch this but it’s kinda falling short tbh. i wouldn’t skip it but it’s not as memorable as the previous ones. 5/10

starting Get Happy. i’m not gonna lie i think i Know what this is, there are only so many options after all. i predict it’s a mix of “get dancin’” by disco-tex and the sex-o-lettes and “happy” by bahrrel williams, and i really hope that ain’t the case cos i Love the first one but despise the latter. oh well let’s see if he can pull it off. sounds like village green by the kinks so far lol uhhhh i have no idea what to make of this. okay i feel like i’m gonna like this after all. hey it’s got memorable lyrics at least! is it gonna get faster? or just more bassy? yknow maybe i was too critical at the start, but i had no idea what to expect. this is a feel-good pop song and it’s definitely making me feel happier than i was when i was listening to Superkiller. 7/10

Ribs? wtf do i expect from a song called Ribs lmao another song i’ve never heard of IH IT’S EVERYBODY WANTS TO RULE TH WORLD OH YEEEEEEEEES omg i Love this song i sing it to myself when i’m walkin my dog cos his little paws click-clack on the pavement to the exact rhythm of the song omg i’m in Love! another one with odd lyrics but i think after a Lot of repeat listening i’ll be able to properly croon along to this one omg! it reminds me of Best from Mouth Silence in that they’re both about products, only instead of folgers in your cup it’s about chili’s baby back ribs omg neil you’re Perfect! how come more advertisers haven’t contacted you for a product placement deal?? 7.5/10

next we got My Mouth. welcome to? who knows let’s hit play. ooooh minor key. is this a real song? it sounds like oney singing a cover of something. oh That’s the gimmick? 2:30 long i hope there’s something else tbh cos otherwise it’s gonna get pretty thin pretty fast. mm not a fan. the weakest so far imo especially after Ribs blew me away. definitely a bad dream. 3.5/10

Aerolong don’t fail me now! okay see This is how you do a mashup. I DON’T MISS YOU BABAY AND I DO WANNA MISS A THING THAT’S GOLD!! this is just a song about saying bye to your ex lmao i love it. wish it was longer though. 6/10

Sleepin’ here we go! ok in the youtube version the first half of this song is just silence so that wasn’t fun. gee this one’s only moderately better than My Mouth i’m feeling very shortchanged. 4/10

what to expect from Aamoorree? hopefully this one’s another jam but...okay i’m likin this one. it’s Fun and isn’t trying too hard! it’s just a drunk dean martin singing about pizza pie on karaoke night, what more could you ask for lol. 6/10

Where Is My Mom? by the p-p-p-pooo-oo-ooo-oooool of course. i don’t recognise the other song but it’s decent. i’ve listened to slowed-down songs before (the sludgefest chipmunks albums lately) and this one’s kinda ok. not a fan of the ending but points for effort ig. 5.5/10

Fredhammer ay? might there be some peter gabriel in there? undoubtedly. yup there it is lol ok now bring in the flintstones? oh ig that’s fred durst? mm not totally feeling it so far but censoring he** was funny lmao HEY THERE’S SEINFELD i’m wheezin that was a good way to end a song, well done neil. 6.5/10

here goes Limp Wicket. i’m on the edge of my seat. and Again i’m disappointed. is this a bunch of ewoks singing some kind of star wars song? or is it jarjar? either way this is Not a good song. it probably wasn’t before he mashed it up but this wasn’t an improvement. bringing in Fredhammer didn’t help this song much at all, in fact i think it brought both songs down actually. last one was a 7/10 but i Have to dock it points now that it’s a two-parter. as for this one? i’m being generous cos the limp bizkit song was good. 1/10

Cannibals runs for 4 minutes. PLEASE don’t let this be a repeat of the last one. i get that miners can’t dig up gold every time but don’t just show up with a bunch of rocks and iron pyrites yknow i’m just gonna start. i don’t want to be angry at this album. i recognise that sound in the bg! from a cyriak vid i think. thx comin in. loooooooong drone. ugh UGH there are Too many lucid dreams on this album. starting to regret liveblogging this cos i Loved the other three mouth albums. this one’s just falling flat again and again. 3/10

here comes The Outsiders. there is NOTHING to say about this. 1.5/10

come on Johnny. okay that got a laugh out of me, not many songs start with a booing crowd like that, is that meta? wouldn’t put it past him tbh. ah i’ll give it a 5/10, for a kinda filler song it wasn’t too bad.

Closerflies, this has gotta be gold. PLEASE. intro’s goin on for a little too long...mm having never heard the original version of closer i gotta admit i thought it’d be faster, like the one used in Rollercloser in Silence. this version seems very sloppy and sluggish, especially the bassline. 3/10

Nightmovin’ i’m not expecting much OH good intro oh YES now here we go. this is a good one, it’s got clear lyrics and a catchy tune, i’m liking this one more and more by the second. cuts off weird but it’s going into the next one. so i’m gonna leave the rating out of this one and see how it is after the next one.

Whitehouse i’m holding my breath. mm it’s Good but not great tbh. criminal that the last one was half as long as this one. think i’m gonna give both of these songs a 5/10 i doubt they’ll be anyone’s favourites. the title is a nice little joke too i respect that.

Wah! what’s neil’s obsession with using wannabe as a source lmao! it’s another decent one but nothing memorable again. 5/10

Pee Wee Inc i’m expecting big things. good intro I’M IN LOVE okay this is Much better than i imagined it’d be. did he use the radio edit of feel good inc? this is a heck of a way to bring it back to the gold stuff and i wouldn’t be surprised if this is what neil’s head sounds like all the time. 7/10

on to 10,000 Spoons. not sure what to expect from the title. okay this is a Nice one i think. throwback to the likes of Just a Baby with the two songs and the sentence mixing and it’s Good. and really 10,000 spoons is So ironic anyway, don’t you think? 7/10

oh another song called Mouth Dreams? an extro? that was Weird lol ok the intro i wasn’t too keen on, def not as much as the intro, but i got to appreciate it as it went on. like Rlly appreciate it i was beginning to reflect on what a journey i’d been through tonight, especially writing it all down. felt very poetic. and then WHAM, out of nowhere, after being gone for 23 songs, all-star came Back and How! gotta give this one a 7.5/10

keep the train rolling Brithoven! i can hear faint bits of instruments in britney’s song in the back of her audio which sound like a mistake but knowing neil.......yah lmao. this song’s kinda like Promenade (Satellite Pictures at an Exhibition) from Mouth Sounds, i liked what i heard. very nice. 6.5/10

the final song. we’re gonna be hit one more time for Ain’t! and i have NO idea what i’m in for! in the hall of the mountain king eh? is this like a way of looping around to the first song of the first album with classical music? ok the snoring’s a nod to Bustin i’m sure lmao funny anyway. i thought i heard a hey now in there but i must be going nuts. wouldn’t call it a grand finale but it is what it is. 5/10

now the question that must be asked - was Mouth Dreams trying to make a point? was there a reasons so many songs were of lower-quality than previous albums? perhaps it’s just a matter of taste, or perhaps it’s as rod said back on track two, that this album is a doorway into another dimension, and the further you progress, the more mind-rattling, brain-melting concepts you come across. the album gets an average of 5.5 which is kinda disappointing. don’t think i’ll be listening to the whole thing again. thanks for reading!

#mouth dreams #neil cicierega #liveblog #review