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thedandelion-writer · 3 years

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❝sleeping habbits, mondstadt edition❞

Pairings: Diluc x reader, Mona x reader, Kaeya x reader, Jean x reader

A/N: There we go, part 2! Also a modern au :)

<- Liyue edition

Diluc hardly ever sleeps deeply

Some days, he'd even wake at the slightest sound

He feels the most vulnerable when asleep, thus the hyperawareness

You snort and thinks it's funny. Relax Diluc, no one's going to murder you in your sleep!

Right..?

On the days where you would come into bed after he was already turned in, you had to tiptoe around as if you were afraid of disturbing a baby. Even your breathing was silent.

The amount of sound that would wake him up varied. But you weren't sure if today was especially bad, as in footsteps could wake him up bad, or if it was mild, as in even the rustling of the covers would be okay.

It was all going well so far. You've slipped into sleepwear and was just about to settle in, mentally congratulating yourself. But maybe you thought you were in the clear too soon, because as soon as your weight hit the bed, it creaked.

You cringed inwardly, slapping a hand over your eyes as Diluc stirred.

"Don't wake up, love," you skirted over. "It's really late."

"It is really late." Was that an accusing tone you heard?

"Hehe...I was just finishing up some work." You quickly slipped underneath the sheets, body instantly enveloped in warmth. "I'm sorry for waking you."

Diluc shook his head before pulling you in closer.

"It's better with you here," he said. "I wouldn't mind staying up all night to wait."

Or maybe it wasn't the so called assassins who might come to him in the night that he feared. Maybe it was because he was afraid that he wouldn't see you again the next time he awoke.

Diluc doesn't really have a set time in which he'd go to bed

But he goes in relatively early because he also wakes up, relatively early

He was used to sleeping alone for the longest time, but now you've come and spoiled him

It just doesn't feel the same without you next to him anymore

Mona is the type of person who'd keep all her astrology books, trinkets, etc on her bed

Just splayed out and messy because she fell asleep whilst using them last night. And the night before...and the night before that

Never bothered to cleaning it up because it'll end up messy again anyway!

Sometimes you'd roll onto your back and ouch--there'd be a mini telescope or something

"Oww," you groaned, a pain stabbing at your side.

The culprit? It was unsurprisingly yet another one of Mona's astrologer's stuff. What the heck was this even called?

After plucking out the round, metal offender to place on the windowsill, you look over to your sleeping lover.

"Well at least someone's getting a good night sleep," you grumbled.

Somehow Mona always found a way to avoid all the nonsense she laid scattered on your shared bed. You always supported her passions, but this is getting out of hand.

As if sensing someone was talking (or in this case, thinking) about her, Mona stretched a little and curled up tighter into herself. You sighed softly to yourself, not being able to be annoyed for long.

You cleaned up the best you could (even though you already did that before turning in), and laid back down beside her. You'd have to make sure Mona would pay you for the troubles she's caused you tonight. And you only accept payment in cuddles!

The bed has to be beside a window. Always.

If the skies are clear and starry you best believe she'd be staring at them, talking about the things she loved most (other than you of course- ) until the both of you drift off

The girl's a night owl so you have to be able to put up with late night tinkering

Also--awful awful bedhead

But don't ever say it to her face, you will get hit by a pillow (or worse!!)

The guy has absolutely no regard for how freaking cold he keeps his room

It's an eternal winter in there, even when it's blazing hot outside

Worst part? He doesn't even have a proper blanket. That, sir, is a rectangular piece of cloth

If you like the cold? Then sure, let him keep it that way. If not, you would have to make some changes around here.

"You should've told me you lived in a fridge??" You said, half jokingly through chattered teeth.

"You don't like it sweetheart?" He faked hurt, sauntering up behind you to grasp your shoulders as if you were newlyweds inspecting a new house to move into.

"Uhh well, there's literal frost on the edges of your window. And it's not even winter, Kaeya, clearly I'll be a popsicle by morning!"

It was your first night staying with him. And in your head, it was going to be all romantic like you've seen in the novels and shows. Warm cuddles, kisses underneath the blankets (oh my gods that blanket is paper thin), legs and arms entwined and you'd wake up like that.

But archons be damned, this was not what you had imagined.

"You'd make a very good looking popsicle then, love," he had the nerve to laugh so you elbowed him in the ribs.

"Alright alright, I'll make it warmer for you, how does that sound?"

"And I want a new blanket."

"Consider it done," he ruffled your hair to press a kiss onto the crown of your head.

Anything to please his darling.

He also sleep talks

And it's the funniest shit you'll ever hear if you're awake to hear it

One time you recorded it and now you use it as blackmail, threatening to send it to Diluc every time he'd get too cheeky

Her sleeping schedule is messed. up.

Jean would never admit it, but she loses a lot of rest time due to her work

You keep telling her to please get more than 2 and a half hours of shut-eye per day, but she is stubborn as she is lovely

Which worries you a heck of a lot, obviously

Doesn't help the fact that this woman can sleep anywhere. On a chair sitting down, face on a desk, on the bus, against you, the list goes on

Sometimes, when she's worked herself to the limit, you'll find her asleep at the most bizarre of places

Funny story! One time, Jean fell asleep on the train on the way home and missed all her stops

You had to find her in the middle of nowhere

"Darling-" you hurried to embrace your tired looking lover as she ambled her way out of the station.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry you had to come get me in the middle of the night," Jean murmured into the crook of your neck. "I must have worried you too...I apologise."

You held your tongue at all the things you piled up to say on the drive here, but the scolding could wait until tomorrow. Right now, looking at her exhausted complexion, you couldn't bring yourself to tell her anything other than everything's alright, she can rest now.

Jean looked at you with eyes full of appreciation and affection, eyes that never failed to melt you like ice cream on the summer pavement.

Aside from that, she likes to keep the bedroom very neat

If she does sleep in the bed, Jean would constantly put your comfort over hers

You need some warm milk in the middle of the night? She's on it!!

Your pillows feel uncomfortable? Take hers!!

Oh dear you've accidentally rolled too much into her side? It's no problem, she can just move over to yours

Good morning kisses are her thing

But usually she gives it to you because she's almost always out of it first

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niksfics · 3 years

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↬ WHAT COULD NEVER BE PT. 2

↬ PAIRINGS: Atsumu x f!reader (ft Bokuto)

↬ WARNINGS: sad shit, horrible writing (I feel like I botched this) kagehina mention, cheating, alcohol mention, reversed unrequited love. !! UNEDITED!!

↬ SUMMARY: honorable mention goes to @multi-fandom-fanfic for giving me this idea in the comment section of the first part it’s not exactly years later but it’s still some time later

↬ A/N: I totally did not cry while writing this pft

↬ WC: | 1.5K |

↬ TAG(S): @erinoikawa @fromdelos

“What does she have that I don’t” the amount of times that, that sentence had played over in my head was starting to exhaust me. Remembering the desperation in my voice caused my nose to scrunch up in a cringe until I shook the thoughts out of my head. Walking away from bokuto that night had been the second hardest thing I’d ever had to do in my life so far.

Weeks and weeks later I’d still had the ache in my chest the tears still welled up in my eyes whenever I thought about him with her, but these tears never fell. I hadn’t fully cried over him in weeks and I patted myself on the back for that. I could feel myself starting to move on. To forget.

I still cheered for the MSBY Black Jackals, but I had started online college to get my fashion degree. I’d always had a dream to work for a big corporation like vogue. Things in my life were finally starting to look up, and Miya Atsumu had taken the place that bokuto had left open that night.

He was my support system. Coddling me when he could in the weeks following bokutos wedding. I was unaware of his feelings. Oblivious at first. Until I started to notice the lingering touches he left, and although I was worried about hurting him, it excited me.

— — —

Two years had passed since the night I realized I would never feel my best friends embrace they way I craved. Two years, and now I craved a different persons embrace. The person I’d been dating for a year now, and in the second year of the two years I’d spent healing I’d slowly started mending my friendship with Bokuto. Of course I’d spoken to atsumu about it, and he’d shared his concerns but I was serious about the blonde man who’d unexpectedly stolen my heart.

I had been so caught up in Miya Atsumu it was like highschool all over again. He made me feel alive, and I grounded him when he felt like he was drifting away. The separation from his twin took a harder toll on him than he ever would have realized. So being the loving girlfriend I was I’d organized a night out with the Jackals; Kotaro and koyuki, Kiyoomi, Hinata and kageyama me and Atsumu, and Osamu and his girlfriend. It would be the first time we would all be together since the wedding.

I was nervous and this night would be the start of something out of anyone’s control. It started off normal Osamu and Atsumu hugging and exchanging pleasantries before they would start bickering and trying to compete over something stupid during dinner.

Shy kageyama who had been so stiff at the wedding seemed to be in his element with his arm draped over hinata’s shoulders while he whispered in his ear. The ginger smiling lovingly at his fiancé and it got me thinking about marrying Atsumu. It sparked a tsunami of feeling throughout my body and I found myself smiling to myself before, Cadence —osamu’s stunning girlfriend from the states— bumped my shoulder with hers and smirked at me.

“I’m glad you came up with this idea. Samu was starting to get all pissy about not being able to see his brother.” I smiled sheepishly and blushed as I shook my hand, “it was nothing tsumu was getting the same way and I really wanted to meet you so it was a win win.” She smiled and I caught bokuto looking at me from across the table. The chair next to him empty.

I smiled and leaned across the table, “hey bo! Where’s the missus?” His smile faltered slightly and if I wasn’t so good at reading bokuto I would have missed it entirely but I didn’t, “oh she had to stay late in the office tonight so she couldn’t come.” I gave him a sympathetic smile and he shrugged before the waiter came to our table and I turned to Atsumu.

Later on in the night I had gotten pretty tipsy the champagne finally hitting me, and I smiled lazily at Atsumu, adoration in my eyes and he smirked, “s’the alcohol finally getting to ya pretty girl?” He asked and I nodded before putting my forhead on his upper arm and sighing.

He moves to stand up taking a glass and a knife with him, and my eyes widen in horror over what he’s about to do. He clinks the knife on the glass a bit to carelessly and it breaks, “ah!! tsumu ya moron what the hell are ya doin?” Osamu asks standing up abruptly to avoid the liquid as a waiter rushes over to clean up the mess.

Atsumu smiles and turns to the waiter and apologizes before looking over the table at our friends, “well I just wanted ta toast ta my amazing girlfriend who I would not have if it weren’t for that idiot right there,” I facepalm as he points at bokuto and bokuto winces slightly before looking at me pained and I mouth a sorry to him.

“So thank ya buddy cause if ya weren’t oblivious I would never have gotten such an amazing partner who loves me so much that she brought my annoying little brother out here to see me.” I hear Osamu groan and roll his eyes.

“you’re only three minutes older than me ya troll.” Atsumu smiles patronizingly at osamu, “shut yer trap samu yer elder is talkin'.” Everyone laughs at that and he finally sits down before I hit his shoulder and smile at him slightly, “you’re an idiot tsum-tsum” he shrugs, “but I’m yer idiot right y/n?” And then he plants a big sloppy kiss on my cheek and I squeal in disgust.

The amount of happiness and joy coursing through my body had been missed. I was finally over the one person I thought I would need to live, and with the person I was destined for. I finally had what bokuto had. I couldn’t be happier.

After that night things between me and bokuto were tense for awhile. I brushed it off as he thought maybe I was still hung up on him. Oh how I couldn’t have been more wrong. I had no idea the anger and jealousy that was bubbling up under bokutos skin, and the most frustrating part of all of the bullshit that was going on, was he didn’t understand why he felt like this. He was happily married. I mean as happily married as one person could be right?

It only got worse though when two weeks later Miya fucking Atsumu was calling him asking for his help to propose to his best friend. He was annoyed and irritated and his wife was coming home at two in the morning smelling different than when she had left. It was not a happy time for him, but he obliged telling him about how the beach would be the most perfect place, and to make sure that he does it at night.

He also added in that he should create a pathway lit by fairy lights because I would simply die over it, and how I didn’t like diamonds so make sure it wasn’t a cliche ass diamond.

And that’s how I found myself on the beach my heart had completely broke on, a week later in front of the man I love as he kneeled with a gorgeous jeweled ring in a black velvet box in his hands.

“Will you y/n y/l/n make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?” The tears collecting in my eyes were the happiest tears I’d ever cried in my life as I knelt down and hugged him around his neck, “yes yes!! Yes! Of course I will tsumu”

We hadn’t seen bokuto in the distance watching us with tears in his eyes as he realized what he’d lost. As he wished he could go back in time and do it all over. Do things differently.

Maybe he would have let you keep his jacket on in that storage supply closet. Maybe he should have asked you to get boba instead of koyuki, maybe he should have realized sooner he was projecting onto koyuki because he was scared to love his best friend the way he knew you loved him.

So as he stared at the RSVP card in his hands with yours and Atsumu’s names on it in fancy handwriting. He wonders if this is how you felt when you had gotten his card with koyuki, he wonders if you had felt as lost and hopeless, and torn between wanting you to be happy and also wanting you to be with him instead. So as he swallowed the same lump you had swallowed two almost three years ago he realized that this was some kind of sick karma.

He felt partially responsible for the mess that this had become. You and him were never meant to be.

#bokuto #hq angst #bokuto angst #hq bokuto #bokuto fic #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fic #haikyuu oneshot #hq oneshots #unrequited feelings #atsumu x you #atsumu x y/n #atsumu #atsumu fluff #kagehina #miya atsumu

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milkdoie · 3 years

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mark is jealous of yours and jaehyun’s friendship.

requested: Hi can you do a mark imagine where he’s jealous of the friendship y/n and jaehyun have even though he isn’t fully dating her either? Thank you

warnings (edited): mention of food

“jae~ come here!” mark turned away from the screen of his phone and watched you call over jaehyun, the older man plopping himself right in between you two.

the kitchen was too close to the living room and he was still able to see what you two were doing. was this even allowed in broad daylight? this seems illegal.

“hey, y/n! are you hungry?” the feeling of jealousy was slowly eating away at his chest — it was almost painful to watch you guys be so touchy with each other.

“i could eat; do you have anything in mind? there’s this new italian place down the street if you-”

“great! i’ll get your shoes for you!” he beelined to the door and picked up your sneakers, rushing back to wear you and jaehyun had been sitting.

“um, mark, we have to order it first. remember? no dine-in anymore.” jaehyun raised a hand in protest for his friend to calm down, but he couldn’t help feeling bad as he watched mark drop the shoes and trudge over to his phone.

you grabbed a hold of jaehyun’s bicep and rested your head on his shoulder while you both waited for the menu to be pulled up on mark’s phone, sighing at the comfort of his hoodie.

“is it just me or is mark acting weird today?” he nudged your head with his shoulder. you nodded in agreement and looked over at your friend; he was acting a little out of the ordinary.

“no, i think so too. he seems a little agitated, but i’m not sure why.” you pouted at the possibility of something being wrong.

“y/n, you never told me what the restaurant was called.” the palm his chin rested in slapped against the counter. “oh! “l’ultima cena,” mark typed the name into his phone and began navigating where to order.

“‘kay, what do you want?” he walked towards you both from behind the counter and kneeled down to rest his forearms against the coffee table. “i heard their penne is really good.. and their garlic bread.”

“so, you want penne and garlic bread?” you nodded at his confirmation, watching as he punched in his own order. you expected to hear mark ask what jaehyun wanted to eat, but he never said anything after that.

“i’ll have what she’s-” jaehyun awkwardly removed his arm from around your shoulder after realizing mark was staring daggers right at it.

mark got up from the floor before jaehyun finished, “it’ll be here in half an hour.” his voice was deep, surely an octave lower than usual, and he was avoiding eye contact with the two of you at all costs.

“hey mark, are you okay?” you called out to him. “i’m fine.” you couldn’t help but think otherwise; he seemed so irritated today, almost like he was trying not to cringe at the world.

the room was then filled with an awkward silence, but luckily it was able to pass the time seeing as though the doorbell rang. mark rushed over to door and picked up the box of food that was left on the ground before walking back inside.

placing the box of food on the kitchen counter, he left it untouched and waited for you to get off the couch.

you walked into the kitchen from the living room and made your way over to the box of food that held the contents of your lunch. you excitedly pulled out the takeout container of pasta followed by a paper bag filled with mini slices of garlic bread.

trying to hand mark his own food was a challenge; he wouldn’t look back at you, gaze completely focused on the man still sitting comfortably on the couch. jaehyun, noticing his antics once again, walked over and placed a hand on mark’s shoulder.

his first instinct was to deny his touch, attempting to shrug his hand off and walk away, but jaehyun’s strength was underestimated.

he rolled his eyes and pulled him through the hallway and into a room on the left (which was mark’s room, now looking over all the decor). “what’s your problem lately? it’s like you’ve been walking through fire around us.” jaehyun crossed his arms against his chest.

“i’m fine, you know this.” throwing his head back in frustration, mark rubbed his hands up and down his face. “mark, it’s me, you can tell me the truth.” he finally made eye contact with jaehyun.

mark hesitated, his breath shaky as he let out a sigh. “okay... well, uh- i’ve just been having a lot of confusing feelings lately, and... i don’t know how to act on them. there’s this person that i’ve been- well- i’ve been kind of, into them. but, i feel like if i confessed, our friendship will be ruined. i’m sorry if i’ve been mean...”

jaehyun’s lips curled up into a smile, his older brother instincts flaring in. “aw~ markie has a crush~” he stopped himself from ruffling up mark’s fluffy head of hair and kept his hands to himself. “well, yeah! i just told you that.” with a roll of his eyes, mark began finding the interior design incredibly interesting.

“who is it, huh? maybe i can put my wing-man skills to the test?” he sat down on mark’s bed and patted right beside him, indicating mark to follow suit. “i don’t think you’d be up to helping me with this certain person.” he shook his head.

brushing the overgrown hair out of his eyes, mark continued. “you guys seem to be getting really close lately.” a tight lipped smile formed. “oh,” jaehyun couldn’t pinpoint who exactly mark was talking about; they don’t have many mutual friends.

two minutes of silence cleared his thoughts, a quiet gasp leaving his mouth as he finally figured it out, “do you like y/n, by chance?” mark nodded in reply to his question, head hanging low and fingers rubbing at his temple.

“hey! that’s completely fine; is it me you’re annoyed with?” mark nodded again, looking up at the man he saw as an older brother. jaehyun made a sound of acknowledgment, “if i would have known, i wouldn’t have been so touchy-feely. i’m sorry, man.”

he dismissed his apology with a shake of his hand, “no! please don’t apologize, you had no idea i was even feeling like this. i should be the one apologizing to you for being such a dick this whole time.” shame filled his doe-like eyes.

“i understand; crushes are complicated. i can help you all you want, just let me know and i’ll be there.” jaehyun smiled, dimples on full display and he whips an arm over mark’s shoulder.

“thanks, dude, seriously. it’s just- i haven’t felt this way about someone in so long- i don’t even think i’ve felt like this about anyone. just... watching you guys act like that around each other hurt more than i thought it would.”

jaehyun let him go on, letting him rant about his feelings and burn off all that extra steam he seemed to have been holding in all this time. but, if they didn’t leave his room soon, you’d definitely start getting suspicious.

“look, now that i know about how you’re feeling, i won’t be as touchy as i was. as long as i have something to do with it, you guys are going to be dating in no time, yeah? now stop sulking and go eat lunch with your soulmate.” mark let out a laugh at his exaggeration, getting up from his bed and pulling jaehyun with him.

now standing up, mark leaped onto him and embraced him in a hug. “ahhh~ okay, okay, get out!” jaehyun pat his back.

“hey! you okay?” you got up from your seat at the kitchen table and walked over to your two friends. “yeah, i’m fine now; we just had some things to go over.” the way mark was fiddling with his fingers made you look at him suspiciously, but you brushed it off. “okay, well, are you planning on eating anytime soon? it’ll be cold soon.”

mark looked back at jaehyun, now remembering he had nothing to eat. “it’s fine! i should probably get going now, anyways. enjoy your food, lovebirds.” he made sure to say the last part as quietly as possible, but mark was able to hear it.

a bright pink hue crossed over his cheeks as he whipped his head towards him, chuckling out uncomfortably and wiping his clammy palms off on his jeans.

“okay, let’s eat, shall we?” mark ushered you back over to the kitchen, turning around once more to shoot jaehyun a warning look.

holding a hand over his mouth to silence the laugh that was threatening to escape, he grabbed his shoes sitting on the welcome mat in front of the door. quickly tying the laces and turning the knob, he exited the apartment.

he finally let out the laugh he was suppressing, “this will be fun.”

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illumilu · 3 years

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“there’s only one bed” - hisoka morow x reader

a/n: a very stereotypical cliche for fanfics, but, yk what? i roll with cringe. so here, have my drabbling of what would happen if you were to spend an unwanted night in the same hotel bed as the adultrio. i feel like i may have made this a bit too long, but who cares?? i have time, you have time and an incandescent loneliness to fill, so let’s get into it!

summary: you arrive at the hotel with hisoka, but to your horror (wink wink), there’s only one bed. this is part one of a three-part series, with the adultrio. illumi and chrollo will be coming soon!

warnings: no particular trigger warnings, lowercase intended, a lot of fluff! and cuddling! i’m afraid there’s no nsfw here... keep in mind it’s hisoka - i kept it as pg as possible... may be ooc i’m sorry :)

hisoka morow:

- you arrived at your hotel room, tired from the trip there, not quite sure what to expect. you stared at the single bed placed in the middle of the room, aghast. there must have been some kind of mistake. except there wasn’t. the room had been booked out of simplicity, with no specification on the number of beds, or anything else for that matter.

- and, of course, the man you had booked this room with was none other than hisoka morow.

- otherwise known as the most flirtatious man on earth.

- a little bit of backstory; as your strictly professional colleague, hisoka was always taunting you with his charming little phrases, treating you like his little toy whom he could mess around with.

- “oh, y/n! whatever will we do~?”

- you sighed in frustration. out of all the people you could have been stuck with on this trip, it had to be hisoka.

- hisoka sighed and pouted - not from worry or anguish - but, rather, to mock you. you shot him a dirty look.

- “my my, y/n... why so serious? it’s not like i’ll do anything~”

- the playful lilt in his voice suggested otherwise.

- while hisoka went off to take a shower, you busied yourself with your latest objective; making sure he couldn’t pull anything. being inventive as you were, you gathered all the pillows from the bed (which, for some reason, there were many of), and built a wall separating the two sides of the mattress.

- you got changed promptly, and lay on the left side of the bed, waiting for hisoka to come back. however, his shower ran for longer than expected, and soon enough you felt yourself becoming drowsy.

- just as you were about to fall asleep, you heard hisoka’s voice come from the other side of the room.

- he chuckled. “y/n, what do we have here? your latest invention~?” he teased, ridiculing you.

- “i don’t trust you.” you stated plainly, staring up at the ceiling. you couldn’t see him from across the strangely high pillow wall you had made, but you could feel him smirking.

- “...and for good reason, y/n..”

- he extended his arm and lazily ejected his bungee gum to attach to the pillows, knocking them over in an instant. damn. you thought you had made a pretty good structure.

- you rolled over lethargically to see him standing there; what a sight.

- honestly, you didn’t mind hisoka. it was just... he often became... annoying. as much as he irritated you, you had to admit he was quite pretty. striking amber eyes, streaky plum hair that fell across his face, soft lips and an overall impressive facial structure. not to mention his unique fashion sense that somehow accentuated his toned body. porcelain skin, with his childish paint, which was so often called on by you - “hisoka, do you put that on every goddamn morning?” - he was a fine man.

- but, when that bastard opened his mouth.

- what a contrary tale.

- he waltzed closer to the bed and eventually sat down with his legs crossed, like a child in a classroom - except, he was staring down at you, who was scowling at him.

- “hisoka. don’t pull anything. i’m going to sleep.” you ordered, rolling to your other side so you were now facing away from him.

- “oh y/n... but how could i resist you~?” he joked, lying down on his back, unnecessarily close to you. you tensed up.

- “hisoka.” you warned. except you didn’t really sound like you were warning anyone. some undertones in your voice urged you to let things happen - for an uncertain millisecond, thoughts of letting hisoka do what he wanted plagued your mind.

- the millisecond passed soon enough.

- the jester turned to his side, so you were both facing the same direction and began whispering in your ear with a smile. why was his voice so... smooth? so succinct and mellow? that was not the type of person he was. so why did you want to melt into him? he giggled childishly.

- “so... y/n... you wouldn’t mind if i did-”

- “-this!”

- all of a sudden, hisoka was embracing you, cuddling you and shoving his idiotic face into the crook of your neck.

- “HISOKA, YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS TO GET OFF ME.”

- “oh, but if you wanted me off, couldn’t you simply give me a little kick~?”

- bright idea, madman. bright idea.

- you kicked him in the stomach, which invoked no painful reaction, but prompted him to roll to the other side of the bed, letting you escape from his clutches.

- “ah. y/n, that hurt~” he exhaled tiredly, feigning offence; it was more of a hum, which escaped his mouth like golden honey pouring from a dipper.

- “good. don’t come near me again.”

- “if that’s what you want, darling~”

- “don’t call me that, morow.” you glowered.

- “how scary... good night, y/n.”

- despite trying to hide it underneath his complacent ego, hisoka was beginning to worry. the man was attracted to essentially everyone, but something pulled him closer to you especially. you had a certain magnetism about you that he found increasingly attractive. why did he find teasing you so... enjoyable? why did he long for you to reciprocate? thoughts such as these had been swarming his subconscious since the beginning of the trip. he had pushed away such speculation, for it didn’t suit him.

- a man like him, a man who killed so depravedly, a man whom nothing was known about, an enigma of sorts; surely a man like that didn’t deserve to truly love.

- meanwhile, your brain was a motor engine; what had just happened, and why did you let it go on for so long? you had the reflexes of an expert nen user; so why did you let him stay there, nuzzling into you, before socking him in the gut?

- what a conundrum, for the both of you. looks like this cliche is reaching its peak, hm?

- you fell asleep soon enough; after all, the trip had been long and you were tired. not only physically, but also emotionally. hisoka wasn’t helping your case.

- hisoka himself often had trouble sleeping, which many people didn’t know. most nights, he just lay there solemnly, thinking of new card tricks or enticements for new victims.

- lately, however, he had been thinking of you.

- which he didn’t like at all.

- time passed as his mind whirred while he contemplated who you were, and why you made him so impressionable. suddenly, he heard something.

- he had his back turned to you but heard a shuffling of bedsheets. what time was it? 1am? 2am? he couldn’t tell, but he came to the conclusion that you moved around when you slept and left it at that.

- that was, until, he felt someone cling around his back and reach across his chest firmly, wrapping around his waist with their leg.

- that someone was you.

- if only you knew what you were doing, you would be appalled... maybe a little grateful... but for the most part, appalled.

- your soft breath brushed hisoka’s back delicately, making his nerves transform into an quivery yet arrogant smirk. your arm was wrapped around his chest and your leg was draped across his side. you were obviously deeply sleeping. he couldn’t see you from the way you were embracing his back, but he could have easily woken you up at any given moment.

- so, why didn’t he wake you up?

- maybe it was because he could tease you about it in the morning. yeah. that seemed reasonable. that seemed alike to what hisoka would usually do.

- or maybe it was something else, something he didn’t want to come to terms with, something panging within his heart, something festering inside of him, something that was a victim to his ignorance of emotion.

- much like he had done to you earlier, you burrowed into his shoulder, sighing contentedly, blissfully unaware of what was going on.

- blissfully unaware of the way you were ruling over hisoka, the way you were confusing him and making his emotions a tumultuous mess.

- surprisingly, you clinging to him helped him sleep, and within 15 minutes, hisoka was out like a light. though neither of you were conscious enough to experience it, those few hours you spent embracing each other felt tranquil. it almost felt normal, or like something that should have happened long ago, but never did.

- as peaceful as those hours were, the moment you woke up, everything crumbled into chaos. complete and utter mayhem - at least, on your part.

- you woke up calmly enough, as one usually does, without realising where you were or what you were doing. but, as soon as you registered that you weren’t hugging a pillow, but in fact a person, your reflexes triggered and you abruptly let go, jolting backwards and upright.

- oh my god.

- not just a person.

- hisoka morow.

- you stared at him dozing away, like the little jerk he was.

- what had he done to you? had he put you under some spell? no, that wouldn’t make sense. he was a transmuter, not a manipulator. the bastard probably didn’t even know how to manipulate. then, what was it? was it his dumb bungee gum? your mind was racing 100 miles per hour, so you sat on the left side of the bed, sullen and confused.

- your side of the bed. the left side. the side you had so protectively proclaimed as “your side”. yet there you had been, on his side of the bed, cuddling him? what type of sorcery had he used to make you embrace him so passionately?

- facing the wall, you rationalised yourself. hisoka wouldn’t have done anything, right? but neither would you. right? right?

- “awake, are we?”

- hisoka interrupted your disarray of thoughts. you stood up and turned to look at him. he was propped up on the header of the bed, staring at you composedly. with those amber eyes. what was he on? why was he doing this to you?

- “you...” you began accusing him but couldn’t finish. looking at hisoka, he seemed... well-rested for once. did he even know what had happened? was he waiting for you to admit something?

- “i...? i what, y/n? use your words~” he cooed mischievously.

- oh, the jackass. he definitely knew.

- you glared at him, unable to compile your thoughts into words. you watched as he stood up and walked toward you, until he was standing opposite you, gazing into your eyes. he smiled knowingly at you, causing an surge of emotions to rush up your throat, inciting you to say something, to do something, anything.

- “did you...”

- “no, y/n. it was you.” he simpered.

- oh.

- he raised his hand and pat you on the head, a sly and righteous smirk ceasing to wipe off his lips. he left to the bathroom, leaving you standing there, mouth agape, eyebrow twitching in annoyance. or perhaps, better said, in confusion. when did you start clinging to people like that?

- why... did you feel so at home? when you first woke up, something had been different. some sort of warmth had enveloped you, in your heart. it had felt nice to have someone to lie close to.

- in the meantime, hisoka was also seriously mulling over his emotions for you. so many questions invaded his mind, each popping up quicker than the last had been answered.

- sometimes, he felt as if it would be better to keep everything about you tucked away. underneath his charming, intelligent mask was years of emotion and love and hatred and all things deemed merely human, but too human for him to ever “deserve”.

- as the jester stared at his dazed reflection in the cheap hotel mirror, he came to this conclusion; it wasn’t a matter of what he deserved, or his entitlement. he had to confront the obvious truth that had been bugging him for so long.

- he would tell you he loved you, but not for himself. he would do it for you.

- let’s just say this was the start of something new.

hey so i thought it’d also be good to mention that this is my first time writing a fic on here... to be honest, it’s more the format of a drabble, but i hope you enjoyed! the word count was 2084 words, so i’m super sorry for rambling on too much - i feel like i got a little too deep into hisoka’s character at the end there. illumi’s and chrollo’s version will be coming when i have the time!

either way, likes or reblogs or whatever are super appreciated, but don’t feel forced to or anything! either way, i feel like no one’s gonna see this with my reach LMAOO but anyways thank you for reading, if you made it here! feedback and tips for writing on here are always helpful :)

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angellesword · 4 years

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YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (10)

Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It's simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if...Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively:

"A future without you is a world without color."

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

SERIES: CHAPTER 9 | CHAPTER 11

Note: I just wanna dedicate this chapter to @jooniebugg coz your feedback in Your Eyes Tell (09) is <333 and it inspired me to write chapter 10! some lines in this update is my response to your comment heheh :*

You were not in trouble, but Jeongguk was.

"Guk," Jimin let out a breath as he closed his eyes. "Slow down, okay? I can't understand what you're saying."

But Jeongguk couldn't do it. He was sobbing uncontrollably that Jimin literally had to tell him to breathe.

Jeongguk tried to follow the instruction of his best friend's boyfriend. Breathe. It should be easy, right? He only needed to stop thinking about you in able to breathe properly.

Unfortunately, it was difficult to get you out of his mind.

"You good?"

Your soulmate nodded even though Jimin couldn't see his face. They're currently talking over the phone. Jimin called him after finding out what happened during the trial.

It was all over the news. Countless of articles were published online. Most of them were unreliable and full of speculations.

Jimin gave up after reading one sentence. He knew he had to call you to know the truth—or at least the fragments of truth. Jimin wasn't really interested in the case; he was only interested to know what was up with you.

Were you alright?

Jimin found some of your decisions in life questionable, yet he didn't say anything. He remained tight-lipped when you told him about your entangled fate not only with Jeongguk, but also with your assistant and client.

Just like your soulmate, Jimin could not understand why you were trying to defend Kim Seokjin. Their reason was different though. Jeongguk's thoughts were selfish. Jimin, on the contrary, was plain curious.

Why were you so invested in this case?

Was it because of your stubborn nature? Jimin knew that once you set your mind into something, you wouldn't stop until you won.

Jimin only learned to accept your competitive side when he realized that you were raised this way.

You didn't choose to be like this. You were actually forced to be like this. This being the case, Jimin was only able to release an exhausted breath after Jeongguk told him what happened in the courtroom.

Some might say that you pushed too hard, but this didn't give Mrs. Kim the right to hurt you.

"It's my fault, hyung. I wasn't there to protect her." Jeongguk bit the inside of his cheek.

It had been an hour since you locked yourself in your room and Jeongguk wasn't sure whether to comfort you or to just leave you alone.

It felt like you preferred the latter option. Jimin told your soulmate that you weren't answering your phone, an obvious indication that you didn't want to talk to anyone. This was also the reason why Jimin decided to just call Jeongguk to know if you were okay.

You weren't.

It was weird, but Jeongguk was positive he could feel your heart breaking. If this was any other day, he was sure that he would simply ignore this, but something definitely changed. Jeongguk didn't know why, but he had this intense urge to embrace you—to make you feel better.

"But you can protect her now, Guk. It will be hard, but please..." Jimin begged your soulmate. He didn't want to burden Jeongguk; however, the latter was the only person who could comfort you right now.

As much as Jimin wanted to embrace you, he couldn't. He was in Busan, his hometown, at the moment. Jimin was processing some important documents because he's planning to ask Taehyung to marry him.

"W-What can I do to make her feel better?" Jeongguk stammered. He's nervous, but he's decided. He couldn't let you go through this alone. It hadn't even been a day, yet he already missed your goofy side.

"You're a smart boy, Jeon. You'll figure out what she wants."

What do you want?

Jeongguk's heart was recoiling once again. He realized that he never knew what you wanted since you were always catering what others wanted.

You were a people pleaser.

"But if nothing works, just call her parents." This was Jimin's last reminder before ending the call.

Your soulmate didn't understand why Jimin thought it would be a good idea to call your parents. Jeongguk was pretty sure he could bring the smile back on your face without the help of anyone. He just needed to make sure you were not in some kind trouble first.

Jeongguk opened your laptop to send an email to your boss and other clients, telling them that you were taking a break from work.

Jeongguk was tired by the end of the week. Jimin was right. It was difficult to help you get back on your feet, mainly because you weren't trying.

You stayed in bed most of the time, you barely touched your food, and he felt like you didn't even want to live.

You looked so unmotivated that in the end, Jeongguk decided to just message your parents and invite them to your apartment—this was the reason why he was in trouble.

"You can't just do this without consulting me, Jeongguk."

His scowl deepened when you called him using his given name. You only did this when you were serious or mad. In this case, he figured out that you were mad—or at least he thought you were mad. Your voice was rough, similar to the tone you used when you were inside the courtroom.

Jeongguk was scared.

He was scared to upset you again.

"But Jimin-hyung told me to call your parents!" He reasoned out. Blaming your best friend was the only way Jeongguk could think of so that he could finally escape your piercing glare.

It worked.

Your expression softened a bit, though this didn't mean that he wasn't in trouble anymore.

"Jeongguk," this time your voice sounded tired.

"Y-Yes?" He pretended like he was busy sweeping the floor. Everything needed to be perfect because your parents would be here shortly.

You already accepted your tragic fate. It was decided. You were going to meet your mother and father today.

Damn it.

"Why did you block Hoseok's number?"

You saw how Jeongguk froze after hearing your question. No doubt, he was guilty.

"I-I didn't do it!" He lied.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

"You're not a good liar..." Amusement was now dancing in your voice.

Jeongguk had been using your phone to respond to your prospective clients. These people just didn't know how to stop. They kept texting your personal number even though Jeongguk told them that you were on a leave.

Your phone didn't have a passcode that's why he was able to freely access it.

You didn't mind. In fact, you were grateful. He saved your career. If he didn't send a notice of leave to your boss, you were sure you're gonna get fired.

"I'm not lying!" His lips protruded into a sulky pout. "I didn't send those messages!"

"Huh." You arched your brow. "But I only asked why you blocked Hoseok. I didn't say you texted him using my number."

Jeongguk's eyes went wide.

He was instantly busted.

"H-He was spamming you with useless messages!"

"I don't think so," you shook your head as you read the conversation. His excuse just kept on getting worse.

"Wow. You're cold," you could imagine Hoseok's disbelief upon seeing the thumbs up emoji. It was actually apparent by your friend's response.

"Jeongguk..." You called his name again.

"What!?" Why was he getting annoyed?

"You don't want Hoseok to kiss me?"

Jeongguk looked like the emoji he sent to Hoseok.

"And why would I want that!?" His chest was heaving up and down. You couldn't see, but his face was as red as tomatoes.

You suddenly laughed, causing Jeongguk's heart to swell in joy. This was the first time he heard you laugh after weeks of getting used to your impassive face.

Were you finally moving on?

Jeongguk guessed you were. Your expression literally changed the moment your parents arrived.

You looked happy to see them—too happy that Jeongguk felt like he was only imagining your annoyed expression a short while ago.

Didn't you say you hated the fact that he invited your parents to your place?

You did say that. Unfortunately Jeongguk had no idea how much you hated talking to your mom.

You swore you loved her with all of your heart, though her principles were different from what you believed in. It was draining to pretend like you agree with her.

"So how's the case you've been handling, sweetheart?" Your mother's sweet smile made you cringe.

It hadn't been long since she pulled you inside your room to 'talk.'

Your parents had already met Jeongguk. As expected, they loved him. Your soulmate made it very easy to like him. Perhaps it was because of his eyes. Damn those big, doe eyes. It never failed to make your heart melt.

"Good." You walked towards your bedroom door. "Let's go back to the kitchen. I think Jeongguk prepared some desserts."

"Dessert could wait, dear." Your mom offered you another sickening smile. It was the kind of smile that told you to give up. She always had her way of making you follow what she wanted you to do.

"Come on, eomma." You laughed nervously as you told her that your soulmate was excited to let her try his yaksik, a popular dessert that your mom truly loved.

You didn't know how Jeongguk found out your mother's favorite dessert. You just knew that you were willing to eat dozens of yaksik just to get away from your mom. You didn't even care if your stomach was still full after eating the lunch your soulmate had cooked.

Your mom only shrugged her shoulders as if she didn't hear what you said.

"Tell me about the Kim's case." She demanded as she meticulously inspected your wardrobe.

Your heartbeat doubled.

It was easy to simply give into what she desired because you were certain that she wouldn't stop anyway.

Sadly you couldn't speak—not anymore. Not when you knew how all of this would go.

You wanted to move on from this nightmare on your own. All your life, you relied upon what your mother would say.

"You can't be sad over this. It's nothing compared to what I've been through!"

"Stop crying. You just think you're hurt. You're not."

"No. You can't. That shows weakness."

These were some of the things your mother would say whenever you encountered problems in life. She honed you to be this strong person who wasn't allowed to mope.

You remembered her telling you that it was insensitive of you to cry over little things when it was clear that so many people had it worse than you.

This was exactly why you didn't want to meet your mother today. She would force you to stop feeling bad about Seokjin's case since it was petty.

It was funny actually. People admired you for always ignoring the pain you felt.

You found this toxic. It felt like you were expected to be strong—making you feel like you should heal right away and not with your own pace. This was also the reason why you found it hard to open up to people, even if you were really close to that someone.

Your mother made you feel like there would always be some kind of adversary when it came to handling inconveniences in life. Sometimes you wished people would shut up and just listen. You didn't always need advice. What you wanted was for them to stop quantifying pain because people had different tolerance when it came to feeling what's painful and what's not.

"I think I lost," it took everything not to cry in front of her. At the end of the day, you were still afraid to be perceived as weak.

She had that much control over you.

"Why did you lose?" Her voice was stone cold.

Your response was automatic. You told her what happened during the trial in spite of telling yourself that you would never get swayed by her authoritarian nature anymore.

"You don’t have to answer. I know now why you lost." She crossed her arms as she shook her head at you.

"Didn't I tell you? You lost because you didn't acquire enough knowledge." She proceeded to tell you what you already knew.

Your mom always said that knowledge is power, but the word "knowledge" that was delicately tattooed on your Achilles heel said otherwise.

For you, knowledge is downfall. This was why you chose to have that word tattooed on your Achilles heel—a part of your body that symbolized fatal weakness.

You were working as an auditor before you decided to go to law school. You knew this field inside out and it came with a price. You helped a firm conceal fraudulent acts using your knowledge.

It was a dangerous thing. Your mom tolerated your unprofessionalism since she was a major stockholder in the said company. She actually pushed you to continue the misrepresentation; however, you were guilty.

You couldn't do it anymore. You couldn't use the power you acquired to fool people. Law school taught you to uphold justice, but you were blinded once again.

You failed to see the impact of your actions to Soobin, an innocent soul. Maybe your mother was right. You were bound to fail your law career. Maybe you should just go back to the corporate world and help billionaires to achieve their disgusting scheme.

"Sorry," you swallowed hard, looking straight into your mother's eyes. "I'll do better."

"You should be." She gritted her teeth as she continued to invalidate your emotions.

You wondered when the torture would stop. You just wanna lie in bed and sleep the pain away. Luckily Jeongguk came knocking on your door, saving you from your mother's poisonous words.

"Wait," Jeongguk stopped you from following your mom to the living room.

"What's wrong?" He cupped your face; worry was evident in his eyes. You looked like you were in pain.

Did your mother say something to you? Jeongguk wondered.

"Nothing." But you brushed him off before he could ask.

Jeongguk pursed his lips into a thin line. He swore something was wrong, but he didn't want to push it since it was clear that you were not in the mood to talk about it.

But he couldn't stay still knowing that you were bothered. This being the case, he went out of his way just to make you smile.

Jeongguk was being such a good boy. He kept on praising you in front your parents. He was also respectful towards them. His jokes were appropriate and he smiled so kindly at them.

His lingering touch on your wrist, waist, and shoulders didn't go unnoticed by you. It was like he was guarding you from any possible danger.

"What do you think about this, my sweet daughter?" Your father showed you his artwork with a proud smile.

You chuckled.

Jeongguk was teaching your father how to draw.

"You did great, Appa!" You weren't lying. He had done a good job sketching The Hulk.

"Really? What about the color? Do you like it?"

You nodded eagerly. It wouldn't hurt to lie, right?

"I like the shade of green that you used."

You were expecting your father to smile back because of your compliment. Sadly, he only stared at you blankly.

"What?" A nervous giggle escaped your lips.

Your parents and even Jeongguk were making you feel awkward. Why were they looking at you like you were a poor, poor soul?

"This Hulk is color pink." Your father said softly, making your breathing hitch.

He was trying to show contrast. The Hulk was the personification of rage. He colored him pink because in your world, the mentioned color symbolized gentleness. He wanted you to see in his drawing that people should be gentle even though they're angry.

You ruined it.

They probably know by now that you were lying when you said earlier that you could see colors.

Why did you even lie?

Why couldn't you just tell them that Jeongguk wasn't in love with you?

"Ah," you scratched the back of your head. "Is it pink? Sorry, Appa. I'm still trying to learn colors."

Your lie was understandable. You told your parents that you met Jeongguk a few months ago. It was impossible to know all colors in a short period of time.

You knew you weren't a great liar, but damn. When you looked at Jeongguk, he was smiling as he mouthed, "it is okay," to you.

He was saying that you were doing well, that you didn't ruin what your father had been wishing for: he wanted you to be loved by your soulmate.

You felt like Jeongguk loved you.

You couldn't stop staring at your soulmate as he continued to smile brightly at you.

In this moment, you swore you could see the brown in his eyes.

Or so you thought.

You just couldn't have one peaceful day, could you?

"N-No..." Your voice broke, tears falling down on the sheet of paper you were holding.

Your parents already left. Jeongguk was kind enough to drive them back to their hotel.

You were alone in the house.

The paper in your hand was mocking you, telling you that you would forever be alone in this house.

TRANSFER OF OWNERSHIP IN A CONTRACT TO SELL Vendee Jeon Jeongguk of Room 13, Apartment X, Seoul, South Korea—you stopped reading the next words.

You couldn't believe it.

Jeon Jeongguk was going to leave you.

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system-of-a-feather · 3 years

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One of the things about r/fakedisordercringe and similar people specifically that annoys me is how so many of the people there go by the logic of "This person is obviously suffering more, therefore they have to be the only real one"

Or people saying "My experience with the disorder is this and I have horrible communication with parts and this and this and people having 3 seconds of fun with their shitty situation are all cringe fakers and Im real because I suffer more"

I just really can't deal with people in the DID community who try to do the pain olympics

Like first off, we are all suffering a shit ton, fuck off. And second like, its really probably not that good to be stuck constantly like.... being focused on all the bad and none of the good of it all??

I get the negativitiy. We’d be one of the firsts to say we hate having DID, that the disorder is honest to god bullshit, that it makes shit so much more difficult and that god would life be easier without it - given at least that it didn’t innately result in huge destruction considering its a coping mechanism rooted disorder.

Like really, if I spent most of my life thinking about how much this disorder has fucked me up and made me miss out on things, I’d be miserable as fuck. We just choose to kind of embrace it and try to make the best of it because there really isn’t much being upset about it will do to help.

Does that stop us from occasionally cursing the world and go into breakdowns and episodes over how much we hate this disorder and the pain it causes us? No, we do that semi-regularly anyways, but we try our best not to fixate too much on it and to just have some fun with the less problematic aspects of it.

And this isn’t only at r/fakedisordercringe, because I know it exists outside of there as well; just more so that I was looking at how people talk about it and they always go “LOOK AT THIS PERSON WHO IS SUFFERING SO BADLY EVERYONE ELSE MUST BE FAKE” and it just.... More Suffering =/= More Valid.

#alter: riku #actuallydid #discourse #syscourse #discourse tw #fake claiming tw #fakeclaiming #fakeclaiming tw #fakedisordercringe tw

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serenityseventeen · 3 years

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Love & Letter: To The Thirteen Boys I've Loved Before

The Seventh Letter

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

To: Jeon Wonwoo

From: Y/N

Hey, Wonwoo.

Now that I think back on us, we were a romance novel with a bittersweet ending. Every moment I spent with you felt like I was drinking a comforting cup of hot chocolate even if it didn't have any additional toppings. Warm. Sweet. Lovely. Temporary. I guess I finished the cup of hot chocolate now, huh?

Maybe one day I'd get a refill.

But for now, I'm satisfied.

I don't know how to exactly explain this. I'm just grateful. I'm also happy. I'm not happy with the breakup of course, because it's sad and I'm heartbroken too. I'm happy with the memories we made. I'm happy that a warm and sweet guy like you loved me. I'm happy that I got to love an understanding and intelligent guy like you.

I think deciding to become an avid reader may have been one of the best choices in my life, even if our love lasted only about a year. My unfortunate love life has taken a toll on this love as well. I know you'll say it wasn't any of our faults that we broke up. Knowing you, you'd probably say something along the lines of, “We couldn't hide our hearts that's why we dated. We can't change time that's why we have to separate. We didn't have a choice.”

You're always positive like this. I know that sometimes you're hurting and I was hoping that maybe one day you'd tell me about everything; everything that hurt, bothered, or annoyed you. You did tell me a few things that cut deep but I knew, each time that you opened up to me, that there was an even deeper cut in your heart that you didn't dare to tell yet.

Wonwoo, you were always a happy kid in my eyes. I think you wanted to show me only your good side even though you acted as if you could tell me everything. You were able to speak up for me when I couldn't and you even put my friends in their place. Thank you for that.

At that time, we weren't even dating, so I was always asking myself, “Why is he defending me?”

You were just this bookworm I met in the town's book club that I signed up for. You were just this guy who always happened to be reading in the local library. So, why were you defending me?

Well, we both know that answer now. It was because you liked me.

You began seeing me almost every day, at the local library, because I wanted to build a good habit of reading books. You looked like a cold nerd, always reading in that same, dark corner, barely lit by the lamp nearby. Sometimes I would just, while picking out a book to read, wonder what book it was that had you so invested.

Did you notice me staring? Or is it because I always took a long time looking for books? You never told me which of the ones were the reason you approached me. Well, I also never asked but by the time the question crossed my mind again, we had already fallen in love and broken up.

When you approached me with a book in your hand, I can still hear the words you said with your deep, calming, and dreamy voice. “Read this one if you're having a hard time. I already finished it.”

If you're reading this letter, you're probably cringing, right? Such a cheesy line for a first actual meeting. Well, I will admit now that it left quite an impression on me and lingered in my mind for a while. I never told you that though because I thought it was embarrassing.

You were really sweet even before we started dating. I was always wondering why you would leave me yogurt when I wasn't looking or become protective of me when I was alone. You always acted as if it wasn't a big deal but I know you were taking hours to head home because you insisted on seeing me off every time.

Wonwoo, when we began dating naturally, I wasn't convinced I was in love with you yet. I'm sorry if it sounds like I deceived you but the reason this letter is being written is because I loved you. Back then, even if you don't know my heart, I want to tell you that I'm sorry for dating you when I wasn't sure of my feelings. Whenever I dated or liked someone, it didn't end up that happily.

That day when I told you outside the library at night about how loving me felt like a curse, when you kissed me that night and reassured me that I wasn't cursed, that's when I truly fell for you. You were willing to accept me even when I talked so much that night about my past and failed relationships. Your lips... breath... It was all so warm that I didn't want to let go of you.

You didn't mind it when I talked about my ex-boyfriends and you understood me well. Even the next days that followed my breakdown, you treated me the same. You treated me like I was yours. When you wanted me to be close, you'd pull me close with my chair and ask if it was okay. When you wanted to hold hands, you wouldn't hesitate to do it in the most natural way possible.

You were also very romantic, I don't know if you think of yourself that way though, Wonwoo. I hope the things you did to me and my reaction also made your heart flutter; because every little thing you did to me made my heart race. It's memorable. I wanted to do the same things but I lacked the confidence. At least I gave you some good laughs though?

I remember, one time, I accidentally forgot my book at home during the book club and there were no extras. No one knew we were dating then and you suddenly took the seat beside me and slyly slid your arm around my waist and hand in mine before you started reading the chapter. You don't know just how much my heartbeat spiked because of that. I'll also be honest here, I didn't remember anything you read out loud and ended up reading the chapter again at home.

I think we got close because of our many conversations. Soon, I grew attached to you in many ways. You were the reliever of my stress, the lover of my nights, and an inspirational reader of my days. I had you to talk to when things were hard. I had you to talk to when I wanted to flirt and have fun. I had you to talk with about books.

What a boyfriend you were, handling so many jobs just for me. Now that we've broken up, I've realized that I was selfish. I used you for myself and though sometimes I did try to try and get rid of your hardships by listening, I found that you were independent. You thought you'd be able to handle it all so you always told me, “Just seeing you is enough.”

I honestly hope you don't think that way. I want you to be like me. Be a little selfish sometimes and allow yourself to use another person to rant. I want you to be able to let out all that stress you're having, whether it's from school, home, or your part-time job. I want you to be confident and continue being positive without having to hide your scars, but please, don't make the mistake of trusting the wrong person.

Remember the day when I called you crying, whining about how I failed an important test? It was probably almost midnight at that time and you were probably sleeping. I don't exactly remember the details but I remember this much.

You woke up, got out of bed, and ran to me. When you saw me crying on the bench beside a lamppost in the park, you immediately hugged me, not saying a word. Do you know how thankful I am for that?

It wasn't even that big of a deal. I was being a baby over something so trivial but you still ran to me. Your warm embrace filled with love... I could never forget that.

I still always think about that day when you came over to my house with the excuse that you wanted to read together. You ‘fell asleep’ on my couch.

I don't know how you knew I was staring at your handsome features but somehow, you knew. I still don't know how. I was just staring at you while thinking, ‘This guy cares for me... he's really nice... Why does he like me?’

It was like you could hear my thoughts. You turned your head to me and opened your eyes gently then pulled my head closer and kissed me. My heart fluttered so much and even thinking of it now gives me butterflies.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to do it without your consent.”

Seriously, which novel did you learn that line from?

I also know that sometimes when you ask me to hug you, it's because you're having a hard time, not because you missed me. Do you think I wouldn't know that? I can just remember how desperate your grasp was and how weak your breath was. I wished that you would tell me about your problems one day.

Even though you didn't end up telling me about your deepest fears and scars, I'm glad that you wanted hugs from me. That means I was at least some sort of comfort, right? I was also comforted when I hugged you, even though you were the one who asked for hugs.

I can't do anything but compliment you in this letter because our relationship did not have any flaws. Truly, we only have happy memories to reminisce. Like that day when you kissed me in the library, between bookshelves, or that day when you made a poem about me and read it out loud, or when you came over to my house and helped me water the plants but ended up getting both of us wet. When I was with you, I only had smiles and it felt like I could forget everything and just live as if there were only the two of us.

Because of you, I could forget about college for a while, I could stop stressing about schoolwork, I could be happy and live in the moment. I hope it was that way for you too. Your cold face when you're not smiling and your sharp eyes are enough to slice someone in half. You need to smile warmly with that beautiful smile of yours. You have a beautiful smile.

Wonwoo, I know you're a strong guy. Even without me, your ‘healer’, I know you'll be fine. Please don't make me the only one who remembers this love story. If I wanted to, I could write a romance novel about us. You, the male protagonist, and me, your love interest. We had so many lovely moments that I just want to keep it all in a book.

Well, it's a shame that we have to end our relationship like this. Maybe the timing is just never right for me. College is in a few months and long-distance relationships would never work for us, that's why I asked for us to break up. I know you and you usually rather act than talk. I'm sad about it but there's nothing I can do. I need to go to college.

I just have a few more things to say to you in this long letter.

Wonwoo, sometimes you would be straightforward but sometimes your words and actions would be implicit. Sometimes, even though you were my boyfriend, I would find myself failing to understand you. Everyone is complex but you may be the most mysterious man I fell in love with.

What was I to you?

Was I like a warm cup of hot cocoa?

Or a blanket to give you warmth throughout the nights?

To me, you were warmth, reassurance, love, and like the seasons.

You taught me life lessons while being my partner.

Even if sometimes you seem like a stranger, I don't regret it. I think you must've had a hard time but I'm sorry I couldn't do much to help you. Now that we're over, I'm just happy about what we had.

The fact that we loved each other is enough.

Yours truly,

Y/N

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

6/24/21 - 11:42 am

a/n: My baby brother and parents came back so I spent a lot of time with family and didn't get to finish this. + SVT appearing on so many western shows/channels makes me so happy... I'm just happier these days :)

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jaeminzie · 4 years

Text

day ‘n’ nite | l.dh

↳ lee haechan x gender neutral!reader

synopsis: smoke sesh with the dream 00’ liners led to best friend!hyuck feeling a little overly clingy and you were the only one available to fulfill his cuddling needs

genre: fluff

word count: 1,131

warning: mentions of marijuana

a/n: um i’m currently writing this high after eating some edibles lmfaoo so if this sucks or if it has grammar mistakes then pls excuse that,, i probably won’t post this until tmrw when i’m back to normal so i can edit haha... hopefully this doesn’t suck

updated a/n: okay i’m back, n e ways i recommend listening to day ‘n’ nite by kid cudi while reading bc of the title and it’s a good song hehe (it’s not related to the story at all but yk it’s still a good listen lmao)

‘day ‘n’ nite’ by kid cudi

“yo you have to inhale it, dumbass.” hyuck snorted after watching a confused jeno take a hit but only to exhale the smoke out of his pink lips right away.

jeno frowned and wailed his arm up in annoyance, “shut up man. it’s my first time.”

“you don’t say,” renjun muttered underneath his breath but you were all seated so close together forming a circle that everyone could hear everything. “pass it.”

jeno scoffed and handed it to jaemin who inhaled a big hit smoothly but then coughs followed a couples seconds later, passing the blunt to his left— donghyuck. “you know what, whose idea was this?” jeno mumbled, bringing his knees up so he could hug them while watching hyuck taking a satisfying hit. his expression was in awe as he wondered how a person can inhale the drug without coughing nor cringing at the heat and smell.

hyuck sighed contently after inhaling the smoke, letting some extra seep out of his body. “mine.” his eyes slowly closed, letting his whole body relax while passing the blunt to you. “we all need to relax for a bit, jeno.” the name of the boy felt harsh when hyuck spoke it.

as hyuck’s best friend, it definitely wasn’t your first time smoking as he’s the biggest stoner in school so your lungs were used to the burn. yet, you weren’t as greedy as jaemin who took a long hit. you inhaled a good amount but enough to save some for another round in the circle. “damn y/n, why so shy all of a sudden?” hyuck nudged your shoulder snickering at you since he’s seen you at your greediest times during these kinds of situation.

laughing softly, “shut up. just tryna save some.”

jeno cleared his throat, “you guys can have it. i’m done.” the rest of you nodded your heads at his statement, not even trying to get him to change his mind which eased jeno.

the roll only lasted two more rounds but it was enough for you all, leaving jeno to take care of your slump bodies laid on the sleeping mat on his living room floor. he mentally thanked his parents for leaving for a business trip during the weekend, or else he’d be a deadman if his parents saw the condition of their living room.

jeno looked down at the four bodies on the floor and cursed at them before leaving to get a blanket then returning to lay on the couch behind the sleeping mat that his pungent friends were relaxing on. renjun, laying on your left, was humming and tapping his fingertips on the carpet as if he was in his own little world. jaemin who was sprawled out on the other side next to hyuck was fast asleep with his mouth wide open. you and hyuck laid still next to each other, staring at the ceiling like it was a television. super entertaining.

it wasn’t long until jeno and renjun joined jaemin in dreamland, filling the room with snores and deep breathing. “can we cuddle?” hyuck turned his body to face you and pleaded with his sparkling red doe eyes. “you’re really warm. i’m cold.” he pouted.

it took some power to not smile at his words and his puppy face so instead, you extended your arms out for him to enter and embrace your body, leaving you to be the big spoon. hyuck immediately went for your neck to snuggle into, his hair strands tickling your skin but you stayed still for the sake of his comfort. you could feel him smile against your skin as he took in your scent and tangled his legs with yours. “you look pretty with red eyes.”

you waited for an insult to come out of him as that was his favorite term of endearment, but he stayed silent. it wasn’t the first time you two have cuddled obviously since your best friends with hyuck who is, if not the most then, one of the clingiest person in the universe. but it is the first time he’s called you pretty without insulting you afterwards. you assumed it was the drug taking over his system so you tried to swat away the butterflies swarming in your stomach over such a small compliment. though, you couldn’t control your heartbeat and your annoying ‘bestie’ seemed to notice.

“do i make you nervous, y/n?” you could just feel his smirk when he began to play with your hair which made your heartbeat race faster. “don’t be.”

“don’t flatter yourself.” your voice was impressively calm unlike your body that was heating up and forming goosebumps. “you’re making me hot.”

he lifted his head out of your neck to hover over your body. “you’re already hot, sweetheart.” you wanted to slap the smirk right off his face but your palms were sweating excessively and you did not want him to know his effect on you.

“i don’t wanna cuddle, you ruined it.”

hyuck laughed above you, but making sure to stay quiet to avoid waking up the others. “too bad.” he flipped your bodies over so you were the one laying on his chest, his arms trapping you to stay on top of him and his hands began to caress your body softly. “just relax, sweetheart.”

your eyebrows quirked at the petname. “dude what are you on?”

“well, i mean, we did just smoke sooo.” he hummed softly while rubbing circles on your heated cheek with his right hand while the other ran through your hair. “but i was being honest earlier when i called you pretty. sober me would’ve agreed.”

“i know i am,” now you began to draw circles on his chest unconsciously.

his small giggling fit caused his chest to vibrate against your cheek. “you should sleep now.”

you hummed in agreement when you felt your eyelids becoming too heavy to hold. “goodnight hyuck.”

“goodnight, my sweet.” his voice was calm and collected, his tone wasn’t teasing unlike earlier. his fingers continued their movements and he began to quietly hum slow melodies making it easier for you to drift off into your sleep. he made sure that you were asleep before placing a kiss on the top of your head, staying there for a while to inhale the mixtured scent of your floral perfume that he gave you as a birthday gift and the blunt from earlier.

hyuck stayed up for nearly the whole night daydreaming of dating his best friend. although it was just in his head, he felt content inside knowing that you probably have spent sleepless nights thinking of him as well— he was correct. he looked down at your sleeping body and listened to the purrs you made in your deep sleep. looking at you made his body relax under you, a smile never leaving his face when your body cuddled closer to him. it’ll be a long night for hyuck, but he definitely did not mind admiring your pretty face until dawn.

#this was kinda bad i am so sorry lmao #nct #nct 2020 #nct dream #nct 127 #nct drabble #nct dream drabbles #nct dream fanfic #nct dream scenario #nct dream imagine #nct 127 fluff #donghyuck #haechan #haechan fluff #haechan scenarios #haechan imagine #haechan drabbles

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gallavictorious · 3 years

Note

If you’ve touched on this already or don’t want to please ignore!! What are you opinions on people saying Ian wasn’t really into the whole other people idea and only went along with it because Mickey seemed so enthusiastic? I watched the ep and was impressed by the honest conversations but I’ve read some interesting takes on how Mickey takes the lead, Ian wants to leave the party several times and initially says no before saying fine.

Ah, nonnie! Sorry this took me a while: I was very deliberately staying out of the kerfuffle surrounding everything that went down on Ian and Mickey’s friend date in 11x07, but I cannot resist such a polite ask. XD And it seems people have found ways to cope and moved on now and there’s a new episode coming in just a few hours so it should be safe, right? Right? Ah, famous last words…

Basically, while I think it’s very clear that Mickey is having a lot more fun at that party than Ian is, I don’t think Ian feels pressured into participating in the orgy.

To be perfectly honest, I am highly amused by the notion – also championed by @dreamylyfe-x, I believe – that Ian and Mickey are kind of pushing each other the whole day. Mickey decides to be a shit in the morning for no discernable reason and Ian is a little stung and decides that okay fuck you husband you think I should have other friends well then fine but I’m taking you down with me. ‘Cause I think Ian would genuinely enjoy some friends but knows full well that Mickey doesn’t give a shit - but Mickey’s been a prick and as punishment Ian will make him to go out there and be nice and smile and maybe he’ll think twice about making fun of Ian the next time. (He won’t.) Besides, Ian just really likes to hang out with Mickey, you know, and prefers to do pretty much everything, including friend hunting, together. Probably figures Mickey could do with a little gay education, too. Ian is a complex guy and can have a whole bunch of different motives for doing any one thing!

(There’s something interesting and a less amusing about how Ian once more uses his body and sex as leverage, as he does when he goes on a sex strike in 11x02. Now, I want to note that I don’t think his line about “who knows what will happen” a serious threat at all, but I think that whole thing – acting like he can’t be friends with chicks or straight people and can’t hang out alone with gay people without sleeping with them – is designed to get Mickey to come with him. Which succeeds, so one point to Ian! But there’s something uncomfortable but very in character about the means he employ to get there.)

Now Mickey is nothing if not opportunistic, so he characteristically decides to make the most of the outing, grabbing what handjobs, pepperonis and rosé he can. And that’s very Mickey, I feel – why should they leave when they’re being given free stuff?! – but also his own way of evening the score, uh-huh you made me go out and make friends now we gonna make the hell out of these guys how do you like now hm? Because let’s not forget that just as Ian later unsuccessfully pushes for them to leave the party, Mickey pushes for them to just walk away from the two guys buying a duvet, but Ian grabs him by his jacket and signs him up for book signings and hanging out with strangers. (There’s a lovely Swedish expression about cabbage soup drinkers that would apply here but it doesn’t translate well... )

So to me, Ian and Mickey both have very real and characteristic reasons for their behavior in this episode – Ian wouldn’t mind some friends and Mickey does think getting free food and drinks is well worth hanging out with a bunch of people he doesn’t care about for an afternoon – but there’s also an element, and not a small one, of them doing shit to kind of push and one-up one another (thank you, Riss, for help with the vocabulary – English is, as always, my enemy). And I suppose one could think of that as not great and kind of spiteful and dysfunctional but I see it as a very natural and playful dynamic that they both enjoy, even though it means occasionally ending up in situations one is not super into and occasionally being a bit exasperated with one another.

And in spite of this game of I push, you push I very much agree with you about their communication: throughout the episode they continually talk about what they want and don’t want, and for all they take turns being a little dickish they also compromise throughout, letting their partner have what they want. This is not a bad thing, as long as you don’t end up doing things you actively don’t want to do! Having a given and take in a relationship is perfectly normal!

Now, if Ian had genuinely not wanted to participate in the orgy and felt pressured to do so, that would have been very bad. But let it be noted that even though he initially says no – reflexively, like why the hell would we even want to have an orgy with really annoying people?! – he changes his mind very quickly and without Mickey putting any real pressure on him; Mickey just argues his case, Ian is convinced, and there’s nothing to suggest that Mickey would have stayed behind anyway or “forced” Ian to join him if Ian had still said no: I don’t get the same vibe of Mickey pushing just to push here as I do earlier in the episode. He does note that it was Ian who said they didn’t have to be friends with the guys if they fucked them, but I think that’s more to make Ian truly see and accept that the quest for friendship has failed, so they might as well make the most of the evening, rather than a bid to make Ian do something against his will.

Crucially, Ian seems very happy and comfortable with Mickey afterwards, when they return to the house, even though he thinks the day has been a bit of a bust – but remember, Ian wanted friends and they didn’t find that, so that’s why he thinks it a bust, not because he was an unwilling participant in an orgy.

So, sure. Ian was less into it than Mickey was, but that’s because it wasn’t what he wanted to get out of this thing – he was there to make friends and is disappointed that this has failed! – but I don’t think he’s opposed to it, once he has accepted his friendship defeat? In the end, I think he embraces Mickey’s attitude of ‘eh, we might as well get as much out of this as possible’ and has a pretty good time of it (regardless of how much or little they actually fooled around with the other guys).

Personally, I think Mickey refusing to leave the party when Ian, clearly uncomfortable, first asks him to is far less charming and more indicative of Mickey being a little bastard than him arguing the case for an orgy is, but remember that this happens after – as previously noted – Ian completely ignores Mickey’s protests about going there in the first place. Mickey is deliberately being a bastard here, throwing Ian’s earlier words about what might happen in his face. And while that’s dickish, it is part of their normal dynamic, which they are both comfortable with – and the stakes are low. Ian will suffer uncomfortable conversation for a bit while Mickey stuffs his face, but it doesn’t actually hurt Ian – which joining an orgy against his will would, and Mickey damned well knows that. There’s just not a lot of worlds where I think Mickey would do something so genuinely nasty to his husband, you know – and as far as I’m concerned, there are other, more likely (IMO) and far more amusing readings of their interactions in 11x07 available.

I hope this made any sort of sense and answers your question, nonnie. I kind of feel like I should do a detailed conversation analysis to properly make my case but a, this is already long, and b, I don’t want to. 😉 Had a blast thinking about this, though! While there are lines in this episode that does make me cringe, I am just genuinely so delighted by this aspect of their dynamic.

#these dumbass darlings #i do love them #11x07 #gallavich #asks #meta

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years

Text

Satisfied, Part 37

First

~~~

There was silence as she stepped into the warehouse.

Of course there was. She was covered in blood, and it was pretty obvious from the splatter that it wasn’t her own.

She walked over to Joker, her posture stiff, her expression set in a grimace. She felt her grip tighten on the bag and gun.

She practically threw the stolen goods, probably would have if she’d felt strong enough to. Instead, she thrust it into his chest and turned on her heel to leave.

“Where are you going?” Asked Joker.

“Home. I have a day job and this is going to be a pain to get out,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even. Still, she stopped walking. He clearly was implying that she needed his permission to leave and, though she hated it, she desperately needed him to trust her so the Rogues would be able to. She supposed that she could stay for a bit longer. If he trusted her, then she would be allowed out to have some privacy. If he didn’t…

Well, she wouldn’t need to worry about having a breakdown.

“Is all this good enough, sir?”

“Let’s see, shall we?”

The man took his time as he rifled through the bag. She could feel his gaze on the back of her head, scrutinizing her, looking for... something. Whatever answer he got, he sighed.

There was a beat, then the sound of his shoes scraping the floor as he turned around to face the Rogues. “I don’t think she’s dangerous to us.”

There was a collective sigh of relief.

“But I don’t think that she’s cut out for the Wayne operation.”

There was a new silence.

Marinette felt tears threaten to spill over the corners of her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek. She finally turned back around to face everyone. “May I know why?”

“Well, if this is how you’re going to act after one little murder, then how are you going to kill anyone? How did you not catch this, Harls?”

Her eyes found their way to Harley, who looked like she’d been caught. She set down her Skittles and walked over to Marinette, wrapping her arms around her from behind. “Doesn’t matter if she can’t kill anyone, Puddin’. Her powers give us an easy in without alerting security.”

Joker nodded slowly. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned in so close to Marinette that the girl tried to sink into Harley’s embrace.

“Fine. You may go. I need time to think it over.”

She nodded quickly and pulled herself away. With a wave to the Rogues, she opened a portal to her apartment and dropped into her bathtub.

She changed the setting on her comm so she could hear everyone else.

“ -- lled someone!” Hissed Batman.

“Who cares? She can fix it, right?” Asked Red Hood.

Red Robin sighed. “Not without giving herself away as Ladybug she can’t. Anyone who’s done even a minute of research knows she has to be involved in the fight to use the Miraculous Ladybug thing.”

“So the options are to let Mr. Watson die or let the operation fail,” said Nightwing grimly.

“Good! Let it fail!” Yelled Red Hood. “She wasn’t doing well before this! Kid needs a break. She shouldn’t have to sacrifice her mental health for this!”

Robin sighed. “You heard Joker, they’re planning on killing at least one person at the Wayne Gala, probably more.”

“Then we think of a new plan! We have around a month and a half! More security!”

“This is selfish and you know it.”

“Hey, don’t you --!”

“Don’t you guys think I should get a say in this?” Marinette finally chimed in, her voice quiet.

No one said anything.

“I’d like…” Her lip trembled and she took a deep breath. “I’d like some time to think about it.”

After a moment’s pause, Red Robin spoke: “Of course. Would you like someone to go talk to you?”

She rested her head back against the tap. “No, I’m going to call over a friend.” Her eyes widened. “No offense or anything! I just wanted --.”

“It’s fine, kid, we understand. You have a long time before you need to make a decision, go ahead and take some time for yourself.”

She nodded. “Alright, see you on patrols tomorrow.”

She snickered as all the boys chimed in at once to tell her just how bad an idea that was.

“Kidding, guys.”

There was a collective sigh.

“Right, I’m heading out. Bye-bye!”

There was a chorus of ‘bye’s and she turned off her comm and detransformed.

Kaalki collapsed into her hands and Marinette whispered an apology, examining the kwami for damage. They weren’t hurt or anything, they just looked shell-shocked.

She set the kwami down on the edge of her sink and filled it with soap and water (to the horse’s preference, of course, Marinette wasn’t stupid). After a bit of searching she found the cake she’d baked before she left. She set it down on the edge of the sink for Kaalki to eat when she was done ‘bathing’.

Marinette then went to clean herself. She used a mix of cold water and baking soda to get the blood from her clothes and then decided it was about time to get her actual body clean.

She scrubbed her skin as hard as she could. Maybe, somewhere, she understood that she wasn’t helping by rubbing her skin raw but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She felt so… unclean. A sob threatened to escape her throat and she cringed, only rubbing harder.

Red and suds slid down the drain, she only scrubbed. Maybe if she did it enough she could be rid of this body. Become someone new, fresh skin with a fresh start.

Eventually, with pink skin and red-rimmed eyes, she turned off the water and stepped out. She toweled herself off and pulled on some pajamas, then dropped onto her bed.

She knew that the blood was still in her apartment, knew that there was a trail from her tub to her counter and then back again, but she couldn’t bring herself to do anything.

She picked up her phone and scrolled through her messages. Tikki settled down on the pillow next to her. The kwami had been doing better since she and Robin had used Plagg, though she clearly wasn’t at 100% quite yet. A tiny hand rested on her cheek and Marinette gave her a tiny smile.

She didn’t know how she felt about Tikki being around and active again. On the one hand: Tikki was back! Her friend was alive and well! Tikki wasn’t suffering anymore! On the other hand: Tikki was back. And she was getting the little exasperated look she usually got whenever she was about to get a light scolding.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

The answer was no, but she knew what would happen if she said that. She’d get a tired ‘Marinette!’ and a stern look and she’d be forced to fess up anyways. She knew Tikki only wanted the best for Marinette, wanted her to be happy and healthy, but being the god of passion made it hard for her to express these feelings normally.

Not that Marinette could really say anything about that. There was a reason why she’d been paired with the goddess, after all.

She continued scrolling until she found the contact she was looking for.

“I’ll tell you in a minute,” she promised. “I don’t want to have to talk about it twice, though.”

Tikki looked disapproving, but allowed her to do this.

Definitelyforgottosleep: help

She couldn’t help but be nervous when they read her text and didn’t say anything, right up until she heard a knock on her door.

She trudged over and the moment she opened it Chloe rushed inside, first aid box in hand. “What is it this time? Gunshot? Stabbing? Poison?”

Marinette blinked once, her brain scrambling to figure out what was going on, then a quiet laugh bubbled from her throat. She closed the door behind her, shaking her head. “No, no, I didn’t mean like that. I wanted to talk.”

Chloe seemed torn between being annoyed and relieved. “So you want free therapy?”

She looked away, her face reddening. She supposed that was kind of what she was asking for, though the idea of admitting to it was weird. The whole topic of mental health and therapy had been mostly taboo during and after the Hawkmoth situation, because often reliving bad events would evoke negative emotions.

Marinette forced a laugh. “I mean, what would I even say to a therapist? Don’t tell anyone but I’m Ladybug and things are not going well?”

Tikki sighed. “Marinette…” Ah, there it is. A classic.

Chloe gave a small, tense smile. “You really should talk to someone.”

She opened her mouth.

“Someone besides us. A professional.”

Marinette closed her mouth.

While this was probably -- no, definitely -- true that professional help was needed, she didn’t know how she could even start. I killed a guy as revenge for him murdering my friend but I can’t prove this because they’re both actually alive right now so just trust me? I bisected a person with a portal? Sure, that would go over well. She’d either get thrown into an asylum or thrown into jail.

Instead of saying this, though, she gave a small shrug.

The three girls sat on the bed and Marinette chewed on the inside of her cheek as she stared at her hands. How does someone just start talking about the fact that they’ve committed two murders in three days?

But, eventually, the words came to her. She didn’t know when she started crying, but by the end she was curled up with her head on Chloe’s lap as she struggled to explain how she’d killed the clerk through choked sobs.

The two were silent. Tikki nuzzled herself against her cheek comfortingly. Chloe ran her hands through her hair. But they weren’t saying anything.

Marinette closed her eyes tightly. Now that she was done reliving it, it felt a little better than it had been before. Sure, she was nowhere near healed, but she couldn’t help but lean into the touch of her friends. It was nice to talk about her emotions, to actually let herself feel them. To know there were people who supported her despite everything.

Chloe finally spoke up: “So, what do you want to do?”

Marinette looked up. “I was kinda looking for advice…”

“Marinette… this isn’t something we can decide for you. Your mental health is important, but so are other people’s lives. Since we aren’t giving up either, we don’t really have a say,” explained Tikki gently.

“We have what we would do if we were in your situation --.”

“So tell me that!”

Chloe rolled her eyes and continued: “-- but, really, that’s for our own lives with our own morals. This is a question about your life and your morals. We can’t help you.”

She let her eyes fall back to her sheets.

Her decision, huh?

Red Hood had, shockingly, had a point. It wasn’t fair to ask her to give up her own mental wellness for others. Even if she was doing it willingly, she was still giving up a huge part of herself. While in a bad state, mind you, which could impair her judgement.

Still, if she went from a strict numbers point of view, it was one person’s wellness versus the wellness of at least one other person (but likely far more than one). No matter what, at least one person was going to end up suffering. Shouldn’t she just go with the option where there was a guarantee on only one person rather than a chance at hundreds getting hurt?

She knew what ‘Ladybug’ would do… but what about Marinette?

Her mind wandered to the clerk she’d bisected earlier that day. To that look of surprise and fear that would forever be etched on his face. She grit her teeth.

She couldn’t let that happen to anyone else.

~~~

I traumatized ya’ll I’m sorry

I’ll start doing trigger warnings

Listen guys next chapters are fluff I promise I’ll make it up to you --

I spent literal hours yesterday researching hinduism in order to think of what type of food to give Kaalki for one offhand line

And then I made a portal reference

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bumblesimagines · 4 years

Text

The Other Swan

Request: Yes or No

You stared out at the water, earphones in as you watched the waves. You and your father, Charlie, were heading back to the port after spending some time together. Originally, it was supposed to be you, Bella, and Charlie but Bella decided to spend time with her boyfriend rather than her family. Of course, she would. After meeting Edward, Bella was a different person. She practically worshipped him, and if you were totally honest, your relationship with Bella was basically nonexistent, even if you were half-siblings, (having different mothers but the same father), you barely talk or spend time together. You sighed, standing up as the boat slowed down and eventually stopped. You greeted the fishermen, getting on the dock and watching your father.

“Think Bella’s going to join us next time?” Charlie asked, getting his fishing gear. You rolled your eyes. You loved your father but he always talked about Bella. Bella this, Bella that; Bella would like this, Bella would like that; and to be honest, it was quite annoying.

“Bet Eddy Boy would just pull her away for some dumb baseball game or hiking trip.” You said bitterly, helping him with the gear. Charlie sighed. You two headed back to the car, putting the gear inside and going to your seats.

“What should we have for dinner?” Charlie asked, starting the car and looking at you with a little smirk on his face.

“Food.” You said with a grin. Charlie shook his head, chuckling.

“I was thinking... pizza,” Charlie said. You nodded, going on your phone and changing the playlist.

“You think Bella would like that?” He asked softly.

“If she doesn’t, she can cook her own food.” You replied with a huff, a bit coldly. Charlie sighed, hand patting your knee and looking at you with something quite similar to pity in his eyes; you couldn’t place it.

“Maybe you two should have a brother-sister bonding day,” Charlie said. You scoffed and looked at him as if he had grown two heads.

“Why? So Jake or Edward could crash it?” You shook your head, shifting your gaze out the window.

“I’d prefer her with Jake. Edward gives me the creeps.” He said with a frown on his face, ignoring your clear discomfort.

“I’d prefer her in Arizona.” You mumbled still looking at the window.

“(Y/N)...” He said, almost as like this word, your name, was enough to call you out for something that you did.

“What? All she cares about is Edward! She’s obsessed! She needs a hobby.” You huffed, crossing your arms. Charlie pulled into the neighborhood.

“And all you ever cared about is her.” You added quietly. Charlie frowned.

“You know that’s not true, (Y/N).” Charlie said, not denying the accusation.

“It is fucking true, dad. You’re always comparing me to her! You’ve always cared about her more! I bet you always wished that it were me that went away instead of her.” You opened the car door, slamming it shut and heading up the porch. You grabbed your skateboard, ignoring your father’s protests. Bella’s dump of a truck pulled up.

“There she is! Go and embrace your favorite fucking child! Let the one you wished was never born walk away!” You shouted, walking backward down the sidewalk. Bella frowned as she got out of her truck, looking quite confused and maybe annoyed.

“What’s going on?” She asked, glancing between you and your father. You turned around, jogging away. You slid your skateboard down the pavement before hopping on. You turned up the Yungblud song, ignoring the world around you. You skated all the way to the La Push beach, slowing down and picking up your skateboard, heading onto the sand. You found your spot behind some rocks and sat down, bringing your knees up to your chest. You ignored the messages from Bella, Charlie and eventually Jacob. What seemed like a few minutes were actually a couple of hours. You stood up, dusting off your pants and stretching your back, trying to fix your posture.

“Do you know how worried I’ve been?” Some voice asked, making you cringe, you knew this voice too well and didn’t really want to see the owner in that moment.

“Oh, please, Jacob. We both know that you were only ‘worried’ because Bella texted you.” You replied, choosing to not look at him as you stuffed your headphones into your pocket.

“I care about you both.” You rolled your eyes, finally looking him in the eye and damn. You hadn’t seen him in forever so the new look kind of surprised you, and well, you must admit, he looked quite good even without his long hair.

“Who do you care about more? If we were in a situation where you had to save one or the other, who would it be? Me or Bella?” You asked, already knowing the answer to the question.

“You, always you.” Your brows raised at how quick the words tumbled out of his mouth but you brushed it off.

“Right.” You said, not quite believing his words and then glanced at the darkening sky.

“Let me take you home,” Jacob said. You weren’t gonna protest. It would be pitch dark by the time you entered Forks and you wanted to get home in one piece. Even if you hated his motorcycle. You nodded, following him to the parking lot. You got on the bike, right behind him, the skateboard creating a tiny wall between you and Jacob as you sat on the bike. The ride felt tense and part of you wanted to let go, jump off and just run to your house. Once you were safely back in Charlie’s house, you got off the bike, throwing open the front door and heading upstairs.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)!” Charlie stood up from the coffee table, following you but stopping at the bottom of the stairs.

“(Y/N), we need to talk!” He called, getting the slam of your bedroom door as a response. You sighed, rubbing your forehead after tossing your phone on the bed. You took off your hoodie and grabbed your sleepwear off the bed, grabbing your towel and opening the door. Bella stood there, fist up, about to knock.

“Uh, (Y/N)! I-” You brushed past her, entering the bathroom and closing the door. You locked the door, turning on the shower and waiting for the water to grow warm. You sighed softly, hopping into the shower after getting rid of your clothes. As you showered, you had a moment to think. Were you being dramatic? A little bit. Did you have a good reason? Kind of. Years of feeling like the second option and when Bella comes back, she sticks around for a few days then fucks off to spend all her time with the creep from school? It made no sense. You finished showering and dried off, sliding on your pants and shirt before focusing on drying your hair. You opened the bathroom door and went straight to your room, shutting the door with your foot. You collapsed onto the bed, rolling onto your back. You grabbed your phone, plugging it in before pulling the covers up and falling asleep.

You awoke to knocking on your bedroom door. You groggily peered at the clock, blinking a few times so your eyes could focus on the neon green numbers. 10 in the morning. You yawned, sitting up.

“(Y/N), uh… I’m gonna be at work most of the day but if you, uh, need anything just call, text, or stop by the station, okay? I love you and stay safe! Keep your phone on.” Charlie said.

“Okay.” You replied after a few minutes, hearing Charlie’s footsteps head down the stairs. You sighed, getting out of bed and standing. You stretched, hearing a few cracks before leaving your room and heading into the bathroom. After using the toilet and brushing your teeth, you went downstairs and got some eggs and bacon for breakfast. You sat at the table, lifting one of the bacon strips up to your lips as you watched Charlie’s car reverse and drive off. You could hear the toilet flush upstairs before hearing the sound of footsteps going down the stairs. Bella entered the kitchen, grabbing a plate and sitting down across from you.

“Morning.” She said while putting some food on her plate.

“Mhm.” Was your response, not really paying attention to her.

You and Bella ate in silence until Bella sighed.

“Yesterday, you were gone for six hours. You made dad so worried. You can’t run off after an argument-” She began to talk, almost like she had any right to tell you that type of stuff.

“That’s fucking ironic coming from you, Bella. Didn’t you have an argument with Edward and decided to fuck off to Arizona?”

“I had a reason-” She started answer, but you didn’t want to hear her excuses, knowing that she would probably lie.

“A reason?! You left because of a boy!” You scoffed. “At least I didn’t decide to go to a different fucking state.”

“You could’ve texted us! Replied or called and told us you were okay! Dad was ready to go to the station and report you as missing!” Bella began to raise her voice. You pressed your lips into a thin line, eyes drifting over to the window.

“It was selfish-” She said until you cut her in the middle of the phrase.

“Selfish?! I’m seventeen, Bella! I have the right to go on walks to calm down! You probably don’t even know what the disagreement was about.” You scoffed, eyes narrowing as you looked back at her.

“I know it had something to do with me.” She answered while looking directly at your face.

“Yeah, it did. Charlie was excited to spend time you, his daughter, and then you decide to cancel family time to spend it with your dumbass boyfriend, do you know how crushed he was? You don’t spend any time with us! Charlie was excited for the first time in years since your mother left with you when he heard you were coming back. Don’t you get it?! You’re wanted, Bella! You were expected, you weren’t an accident like me!” Bella blinked, staring at you almost looking like a puppy who was yelled at, but you didn’t care, if she wanted to hear what was the argument about, then she would hear it.

“You’re always so fucking down because of Edward that you don’t realize how much dad loves you! And your fucking mother loves you too! She calls you all the time. You’re the one who takes everything for granted. You’re the selfish one! But blame me. Like everyone does. Everyone in this fucking town knows I’m the Sherrif’s son who was an accident and who’s mother never wanted him. I never got a call, a text, a letter, or gift from my mom, Bella! You… You have a mother who cares, friends who love you, dad would die for you, Jake would probably too and you’re willing to lose all of them for Edward? Some guy? There’s millions of other guys in the world who could and would act as weird as him and they wouldn’t keep you from your family and friends. They wouldn’t randomly leave and dump you in the woods! You’re the one who makes Charlie worry all the fucking time cause everytime you come home from hanging out with him, you’re hurt!” You took a deep breath, finishing your breakfast and standing to go to the sink in the kitchen. Bella stayed silent, watching as you washed your plate and headed upstairs.

“Jesus…” You breathed out, grabbing a hoodie and ripped jeans. You slipped them on, grabbing your socks and shoes. You grabbed your skateboard, going down the stairs. Then, you opened the front door, going down the steps. A car pulled up and Edward got out of it. You greeted him with an eye roll.

“How have you-” He started saying with his typical and fake smile, looking almost in pain.

“Fuck off, Dickward.” You barked at him, pulling your hood over your head. You went down the sidewalk, needing to clear your thoughts. You sighed, heading into town and nodding to some people you knew. Your phone vibrated and you looked at the contact, seeing Leah’s name. You blinked. Leah hadn’t been answering your calls and texts in weeks. You let it go, considering her father had passed and everything.

“I’m going to a bonfire tonight, wanna come? Please?”

“Okay. How have you been?” You asked. Leah sighed.

“I-... God, I’ve missed you.” She let out a laugh. Everyone thought that Leah was this mean bitch but she was actually the only person you truly trusted. She acted like a big sister and listened to your problems. There were times where you’d slip up and call her ‘sis’ and call Sue ‘mom’ but they both found it endearing.

“I missed you too, where the hell did you run off to?” You asked.

“I promise I’ll explain everything later, okay? Come to the bonfir-”

“(Y/N)!” You chuckled, hearing Seth’s voice.

“Come to the bonfire, I wanna show you this new magic trick!” You laughed.

“Okay, okay, I will. But it better be good.”

“It is!” You said goodbye to both of them, your mood lifted and a smile on your face. Spending some time with your friends wouldn’t hurt, right?

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mldrgrl · 4 years

Note

Lately I've been all about reconciliation. For some reason, I want all the Mulder-and-Bill-Scully-finding-some-peace fic I can get. I'd love to see your take on this, maybe in the IWTB era? Or even revival era.

One Sorry Sonofabitch

By: mldrgrl Rating: PG Summary: See above - but be advised Mulder and Scully aren’t in this story a whole lot. Please send all complaints to @perplexistan and I’ll be filing a lawsuit shortly for pain and suffering for having to turn Bill Scully into a sympathetic character. (Set post-IWtB)

He holds his tongue to spare his mother what he really thinks when she tells him that Dana and Mr. Mulder will be joining them for Thanksgiving this year. He can’t believe the audacity that man has to show up at a family event. And his sister isn’t much better for what she’s put their mother through over the years. He can’t even remember the last time he saw her. He thinks it might be ten years ago, just before his second son, Michael, was born. Tara squeezes his knee under the table and he musters up a smile and a brief nod.

Now that he’s stationed in North Carolina, it’s a lot easier for him to travel with his family instead of having his mother fly out for the holidays. It’s their first Thanksgiving on the east coast and he’s annoyed at having the happy occasion intruded upon by his selfish sister and her ne’er do well friend. He really can’t believe she still keeps that jackass around.

He loves his sister. He truly does. He just can’t understand the foolish choices she’s made. Starting with joining the FBI, but giving away her child and going on the run with her fugitive partner instead of putting her patriotic duty to uphold the law as her priority is just beyond him. He would never. He had hoped that whatever spell Mr. Mulder had put on her would’ve worn off by now, but alas. And now they’re coming to Thanksgiving.

Tara gives him a look when they hear the car pull up. One that implores him to please behave. His wife has no business being so compassionate, but that’s just the kind of person she is. He hasn’t forgotten how his sister nearly ruined the Christmas that Matthew was born with that strange little girl and her impossible claim to her. It should have been a time of great joy and instead Dana had made it sorrowful and awkward.

“Fox and Dana just drove up,” his mother says, coming out of the kitchen and wiping her hands on a dish rag.

His sons jump up from the game they’re playing in the family room, excited to meet their mythical aunt they’ve heard tales about.

“Don’t run in the house,” he barks at the kids.

“Yes Sir,” they say, stopping short and taking slower steps to reach the door.

Tara is the one that greets them and his mother is just behind her. Bill is the last one to the door and waits for the hugs and excited chatter to die down before he gives his sister a stiff embrace and Mr. Mulder a requisite handshake.

“Mr. Mulder,” Bill says.

“Just Mulder,” Mr. Mulder says.

“Matthew had a growth spurt this year,” Tara prattles, laying a hand on their son’s shoulder. He’s taller than her by an inch, thin and reedy. “As you can see. Can you believe he’ll be thirteen next month!? And we’ve got Michael turning ten in February.”

Matthew’s cheeks darken. He embarrasses easily and his fair skin gets blotchy at the drop of a hat. Both his boys are soft, like their mother. He’d like to toughen them up, but Tara is fiercely protective of them. A regular mother lion. He doesn’t get it. When he was a kid, he idolized his father. Those few weeks or months a year when his dad came home were the best. He was interested in everything his father did and how he did it. His sons don’t express any interest in him and he barely hears more than a ‘yes, sir’ or a ‘no, sir’ out of them on a good day.

“Maureen is napping,” Tara says. “You’ll meet her later.”

His daughter, Maureen, well she’s a different story. She’s only a toddler, but she reminds him of his sister Melissa. She’s headstrong and unafraid, particularly when it comes to her father. She sasses. She rolls her eyes already. She ignores his orders and does what she wants when she wants. She’s also cute as a button and has her brothers wrapped around their little fingers. Tara calls her their little threenager.

“We’ve still got time before dinner,” his mother says. “Why don’t we head to the family room.”

“We brought pies,” Dana says.

“I’ll get them,” Mr. Mulder says. He has his hands on Dana’s shoulders and gives them a squeeze when she looks back up at him. They seem to hold some silent conversation. To Bill, it looks like his sister is begging her friend to please don’t leave him alone in this house. He doesn’t know why she’s here.

They gather in the family room and make small talk. Tara finds the scrapbooks she puts together for his mother every year and shows off all the photos of the kids from their school activities and family vacations. Dana nods and smiles through most of it. Mr. Mulder is more talkative and asks all the questions.

A half hour slips by and finally he hears a cry from upstairs indicating that his daughter is up from her nap. Tara is on her feet in an instant.

“That’ll be the little princess,” Tara says. “I’ll go grab her and get her ready to come down.”

“I’ll help you,” Bill says. Tara looks at him strangely as he follows.

Maureen is jumping up and down in the playpen in their room when they walk in. She smiles brightly and holds her arms up to Tara.

“How’s my girl,” Tara coos. “Let’s get you into the dress Grandma bought you for dinner and then you can meet your Auntie Dana and Uncle Fox.”

“Don’t call him that,” Bill says.

“Oh, Bill.” Tara sighs and stands Maureen on the bed to start undressing her. “You’re going to have to accept him sometime.”

“I most certainly don’t.”

“You know, one of the things I loved the most about you when we were dating was that you always said that family was very important to you.”

“It still is. You know that.”

“I’m just saying that sometimes your actions don’t say a lot about what I know is in your heart. Will you grab me one of the Pull-Ups from her bag?”

“I’ve been cordial. Hell, I shook his hand.”

“Hell is a bad word,” Maureen says. She scrunches her face and shakes her head as Tara tries to pull her red curls into a ponytail. “No hair up, Mama.”

“Listen to your mother, Maureen.”

“No.”

“Hair up or it’ll get washed tonight in the bath,” Tara bargains.

“Okay, hair up.”

“She’s the one that abandoned everything, you know. Not giving a damn about how it would affect our mother. Tara, she gave her own child away for that man.”

“Damn damn damn!” Maureen shouts, jumping up and down on the bed.

Tara gives Bill a weary look. “William Scully Junior, you know better than to use that kind of language.”

Maureen laughs and bounces. “Daddy in trouble. Daddy in trouble.”

“Yes, Daddy was being very naughty. And so are you. Get down.” Tara holds her hands out and helps Maureen off the bed. “Billy, Dana had her reasons, I’m sure. Have you ever even asked her what happened back then?”

“No. Why do you always take the other side of the argument?”

“I don’t know, Billy, why do you like to argue so much?” She smiles and pats him on the chest as she leads Maureen past him out the door. “I’m just putting myself in her shoes and I know that if I were to have to do what she did, there would have to be a very good reason. You saw how attached to she was to that little Emily and how devastated she was. Think about that.”

“Hmph.”

Downstairs, his mother oohs and aahs over Maureen’s green velvet dress and Maureen twirls appropriately, delighted to be the center of attention. His sister smiles warmly and kneels down to introduce herself to her niece and tell her how big she is and how pretty.

“Thank you, I know,” Maureen says.

The women laugh.

“Where are the boys?” Bill asks. “And Mr. Mulder?”

“Outside playing basketball,” his mother answers.

Basketball. They should be playing a real sport like football. The last time he’d tried to teach them how to punt and tackle it had ended in tears. Matthew complained that the roughness might hurt his chances of moving up in his piano lessons and Michael said he preferred to work on his model cars.

Bill lingers in the mudroom, watching surreptitiously and listening to boys play with Mr. Mulder through the open window. There are a lot of high fives and hair tousling. They don’t even seem to be competing, just taking turns with the ball, which seems a little ridiculous.

“Good job, Matt,” Mr. Mulder says, even when Matthew misses a shot that should have been easy. “Loosen that wrist and hold that follow-through.” He takes the boys’ hand and guides it with his own. “That’s it. Let’s try it again.”

Matthew shoots again and they all cheer when the ball makes it in the basket.

“Nice!” Mr. Mulder yells. “Nothing but net.”

Both boys whoop and laugh and jump up and down like monkeys and grab onto Mr. Mulder. He laughs with them and they have another round of high fives and hair tousling.

“How do you know so much about basketball, Uncle Mulder?” Michael asks. Bill cringes.

“I played in high school and I used to be part of a team at my gym.”

“Did you like being part of a team?” Matthew asks.

“Yeah, it was great.”

“I think I want to join the debate team at school next year.” This is news to Bill and he’s surprised. Matthew is notoriously soft-spoken.

“Your Aunt Dana used to be on a debate team when she was in school. You should ask her for some tips.”

“Dad said that you guys used to be FBI agents,” Michael says. “He said it’s like being a glory fried policeman”

“Glorified,” Matthew corrects. “Not glory fried.”

“Glorified, whatever that means. He told Mom before that Aunt Dana should’ve kept being a doctor so she’d be more normal.”

Bill grits his teeth. He doesn’t recall ever saying something like that in front of the boys, but he’s sure he’s said it. He wonders what else they’ve overheard through the years.

“Well, that’s probably true,” Mr. Mulder says. “She’s a great doctor. But, you know what? Your Aunt Dana was the best agent the FBI ever had.”

“How come she quit?” Matthew asks.

“Have you ever done something that made you really happy for awhile and then it just stopped making you happy?”

“I used to like playing MarioKart,” Michael says. “But, now I think it’s boring.”

“It’s kind of like that.”

“My favorite is SimCity. Have you ever played that?”

“No, I can’t say I have.”

“Do you like Guitar Hero?” Matthew asks.

“Yeah, do you like Guitar Hero?” Michael echoes. “We brought our Playstation and we can play.”

“I’m not much of a musician,” Mr. Mulder says. “But I’ll give it a shot.”

“Cool!” Both boys yell.

Bill chooses that moment to emerge from the mudroom and steps out onto the porch. Both boys go instantly quiet and Michael starts dribbling the basketball he’s holding.

“You boys should run and get your jackets on,” Bill says. “It’s getting cold.”

“I’m not cold,” Michael replies.

“Yes, Sir,” Matthew answers and takes Michael’s arm. “Thanks for the lessons, Uncle Mulder.”

“You can keep playing,” Bill says. “I just think you need to get your jackets on.”

“That’s alright, we’ll go help Mom and Grandma in the kitchen. Come on, Mikey.”

Michael reluctantly hands the basketball over to Mr. Mulder. “Thanks, Uncle Mulder,” he says.

Mr. Mulder nods and then it’s just him and Bill outside. Mr. Mulder turns and dribbles the ball a few times before he sinks a basket. He picks it up again and holds it one-handed in Bill’s direction.

“You play?” Mr. Mulder asks.

“I’m more of a football guy,” Bill answers.

“USNA is on a great streak in the Army v Navy games. Think they can keep it up?”

“Wouldn’t be much of a Navy man if I thought otherwise.”

“Were you on the team?”

“No. We won all four years I was there though. Tied one year, actually.”

“I think Scully mentioned that you dad had played one year.”

Bill can’t believe Mr. Mulder is still calling his sister, Scully. It makes no goddamn sense. “1957,” he answers. “14-0, Navy.”

Mr. Mulder nods. The conversation stalls. Mr. Mulder rubs the back of his head for a few moments and then he looks at the door and straightens. Bill turns and sees his sister in the window. She comes outside, pulling her sweater tighter across her waist and crossing her arms as she steps off the porch.

“Mom says there’s about an hour left until the turkey is ready,” she says. “Everything alright?”

“Talking sports,” Mr. Mulder says. Dana stands close to him. He puts a hand on her back.

“It’s good to see you, Dana.”

“You too, Bill.”

The three of them stand in awkward silence. A wind picks up and blows dead leaves across their feet. Bill shoves his hands in his pockets. Dana turns to Mr. Mulder and lays a hand very lightly on his chest.

“Can you give us a minute?” Dana asks.

“Of course,” Mr. Mulder answers. He kisses the corner of Dana’s mouth and Bill’s cheek twitches irritably. He spins the basketball on one finger as he walks away and then tucks it snugly into the corner of the porch before he goes inside.

“I can tell you don’t want us here,” Dana says. Straight to the point. His sister has never been subtle.

“I think it’s you that doesn’t want to be here. You know, every holiday Mom would always bring up the fact that it would be so nice to have all her children at the table. I have to say I agree with her.”

Dana stares at him with a cool gaze. “Are you trying to make me feel guilty?”

“No, I’m just telling you how it’s been.”

“All her children?”

“Alright, we don’t need to fight.”

“I’m not fighting. I’m just wondering if she includes Charlie in that, when she yearns for all her children.”

Bill shifts uncomfortably. “That’s between them. Charles is…”

“Charlie is married. His husband’s name is-”

“Patrick. I know. I do speak with him on occasion.”

Dana gives a brief nod. “Were they invited to Thanksgiving?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry that we didn’t turn out how you wanted.”

“What does that mean?”

“You always wanted to follow in our parents footsteps. Be just like Dad. Have the doting wife, the Navy career, a house full of kids. Everything in ship-shape order. They made it look ideal when we were kids, but it was never ideal.”

“What kind of nonsense has that man been filling your head with?”

Dana snorts. “The irony is, Mulder is a lot like you, Bill. He values the sanctity of family even more than you.”

“Oh yeah, so much so he forced you to give up your only child.”

“Mulder wasn’t even there when I had to give William up.”

“Exactly. Where was he? Not with his family. You can be sure I would-”

“You would, what? Step away from the Navy? Reject a deployment order? What would you do, Bill?”

“It’s my job,” he says, curtly. “It’s what I do to make sure not just my family, but every family in our country is protected. Tara understood that when she married me. The kids understand.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Do you know what losing her grandchild did to Mom? Dad’s namesake, Dana. My namesake. How could you?”

“You sanctimonious sonofabitch,” she hisses. “My son’s name is William Fox Mulder. Named after Mulder’s father. Not you, and not Dad. And you have no idea how difficult it was for me to make that choice. None at all.”

“Then why did you do it? If it was so goddamn hard, why isn’t he here with us now playing with his cousins instead of with strangers?”

Dana looks away and licks the corner of her mouth. She used to do that when she was a kid before letting loose with a temper tantrum. He remembers her red-faced and stomping her feet, licking her lip before she exploded.

“Did you know that my life was in danger for all of my pregnancy?” she asks. “Did you know William was kidnapped twice before he was eight months old? Did you know that I had friends that were almost killed trying to protect him? Did you know that I killed people in order to protect him? Did you know that I made the biggest mistake in my life when I asked Mulder to leave us because I thought he was the one endangering our son? Did you know that my heart felt like it was ripped out of my chest when I thought I had lost both of them forever? Do you know that it took years for me to trust in the fact that Mulder forgave me for what I did?”

Bill feels uncomfortable and clammy. He’s never seen his sister like this, as a child or as an adult. She’s like fire. Hot and terrifying.

“No,” he says. “How could I? Why didn’t you come to me?”

Dana raises her brow at him like he’s said something completely incredulous. “We’re family, Bill, not friends.”

“Do you even have any friend, Dana? Aside from Mr. Mulder?”

“I don’t need or want anyone else in my life except for Mulder.”

“Including your family?”

“Mulder is my family. A fact I don’t ever think you’ll accept.”

“That man has poisoned you against your family.”

“That man is the reason I’m here today. You’re right. It is me that doesn��t want to be here.” She turns and walks away.

“Dana.”

She doesn’t turn back though, just walks up the porch and into the house and Bill is left alone. He doesn’t understand how he could have grown up in the same house as each of his siblings, but how they all turned out so different. He seems to be the only one that appreciates the values his parents instilled in them and not blatantly reject the status quo.

When Bill comes back into the house, he sees Dana and Mr. Mulder in the dining room, having a very low and animated conversation. Her hands are in his and his head is bent towards her. She’s shaking her head and pulling one of her arms free to gesticulate with, but he catches it and clasps their hands gently to his chest.

Bill turns away and heads back to the family room. The boys are on the floor with Maureen, helping her arrange her dolls to her satisfaction. Tara and his mother are on the couch in conversation. He sits down, feeling glum and perturbed. Dana comes into the room, Mr. Mulder behind her with his hands on her shoulders.

“I’m not feeling very well,” she says. “Mulder is going to take me home.”

Tara glances at Bill and he shifts his gaze away from her.

“What is it?” his mother asks. “Do you need to lie down? You can use the spare room.”

“No, I wouldn’t want to disrupt dinner. I think I have a migraine coming on and I have medication at home.”

“But, Dana, it’s been so long since we’ve all been together. Can’t you just…”

“Let Dana do what she wants to do, Mom,” Bill says. “If she wants to go home, let her go home.”

His mother wrings her hands together. He can’t stand the disappointment in her eyes and he doesn’t know how Dana can either. The hugs goodbye are awkward. The kids are confused.

“Uncle Mulder was supposed to play Guitar Hero with us,” Michael says, after they leave.

“Some other time,” Tara tells him. “Go wash up for dinner.”

Dinner is somber. His mother looks like she’s on the verge of tears. Tara tries to compensate by engaging the children in conversation, but the boys unhappily push food around on their plates and Maureen whines to be let loose. Before they’re even done, his mother starts gathering up the dishes and bringing them into the kitchen.

“What happened?” Tara mouths at him from across the table.

Bill shrugs. “Mom, stop. Tara and I will take care of the dishes. Boys, take your sister and...show your grandmother that guitar game.”

The boys looked relieved. Matthew takes Maureen’s hand and they head to the family room. After the leave, the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall sounds immense in the silence.

“Bill…”

Bill raises his hands in surrender. “Dana and I had a talk,” he admits. “It didn’t go well.”

“Is that why she left?”

“She left because she didn’t want to show up at all.”

“This really meant a lot to Mom.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Maybe the only thing you can do is just accept the fact that this is all there is.” Tara gets up, collecting dishes before she makes her way to the kitchen. It takes Bill some time to follow, but he gathers up plates and silverware and goes in after her. She’s got Tupperware spread out on the counter and is trying to match lids.

“I don’t want to accept it, Tara. I can’t. She’s my sister.”

“Then what do you want to do?”

He scratches the back of his head and thinks, watching Tara empty dishes into plastic bowls. “Pack me up enough of those leftovers for two. I’m...going to go out there.”

“You should take the boys with you.”

“Why?”

“It’s unlikely they’d turn the kids away.”

That hurts because it’s probably true. He finishes clearing the dishes for Tara and she neatly packs up leftovers and stacks them on the counter. He grabs a sweatshirt and then goes into the family room. The boys aren’t playing the video game, they look like they’re playing Go Fish with their grandmother and sister.

“Boys, we’re going to take a drive.”

They look at each other and then look at their father. “Are we in trouble?” Michael asks.

“No, son. We’re just going to take a drive.”

He can tell they’re reluctant to get up, but they do. Tara brings them their jackets and loads their arms with the Tupperware and walks them to the car.

“Where are we going?” Matthew asks, buckling his seatbelt.

“We’re going to go see your Aunt Dana and...Uncle Mulder.”

“Really?” Michael asks.

It’s an hour-long drive. Bill can’t think of a time he’s been alone in a car with his sons for that long. They don’t talk and the radio isn’t offering anything decent.

“You know, Matthew, your Aunt Dana was there when you were born?”

“She was?”

“She and your grandma had come out for Christmas that year. They visited you in the hospital and you were only a few hours old. And...your...Uncle Mulder was there too.” Bill shifts a little in his seat and adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. He was a little disgruntled at the time that Mr. Mulder had shown up with Dana at the hospital, but even more so when Tara insisted he have a chance to hold the baby. He knows photos were taken that day, but he’s never seen them.

“Did Aunt Dana and Uncle Mulder visit me too, Dad?” Michael asks.

“No, they were...they weren’t in town at that time.”

“Oh.”

“Have I ever told you the story of when your Aunt Dana won a shooting contest when she was eight?”

“Um, I don’t think we know any stories about Aunt Dana,” Matthew answers. “Except a couple Grandma has told us.”

“I see.”

“I want to hear it,” Michael says. “I want to know the story.”

“Me too,” Matthew adds.

“She learned to shoot pretty young. My Dad had taught us. She was the best out of all of us, even Dad. She just never missed. Some kids in the neighborhood caught wind of it and said there was no way a little girl could beat them. They were older than us, maybe your age, Matthew. Dana said she could beat the pants off of them, just come out to the woods and name the target. She whipped those boys good. Six older boys against one little girl.”

“Did she win a prize?” Michael asks.

Bill thinks back on that day. He’d felt a mixture of pride and anger. He wanted Dana to win, but he also looked up to those boys. Their pride had been injured and therefore he’d tried to convince Dana to throw the competition at one point, pulling her aside and telling her she was hurting their feelings and should let them win. She looked him straight in the eye and told him no way in hell would she lose to a stupid boy just ‘cause. He’d been afraid the boys would retaliate in some way, maybe hurt Dana or even start a fight with him, but they hadn’t.

“Respect,” Bill says. “She won a lot of respect.”

“Sounds like something Maureen would do,” Matthew says. He and Michael chuckle together.

“Maureen is more like your Aunt Melissa. Dana was a real tomboy. She had to do everything me and your Uncle Charles did.”

“How come…?” Matthew starts, and then clams up.

“How come what?”

“I know Aunt Melissa died a long time ago. But, how come we’ve never met Aunt Dana before now? Or Uncle Charles?”

“Is it because Uncle Charles married another boy?” Michael asks.

“Who told you that?” Bill asks.

“Mom said that’s why Grandma doesn’t like to talk about him and we should try to understand that Grandma comes from another time where that wasn’t ok, but that doesn’t mean it’s not ok.”

“She said that?”

“Mmhm. She said that if anyone at church or other kids say it’s not ok, we just don’t listen to them because God doesn’t make mistakes and love is love and God wants us to love each other.”

Bill is quiet. He can’t believe his devout and traditional wife has said something so progressive and even went so far as to instruct his children to go against the church. Good for her, he thinks. Maybe if his mother had thought for herself once in awhile they wouldn’t have such a fractured family. He can’t believe that thought just crosses his mind.

“You boys listen to your mother,” Bill says. “She’s a good woman and I’m glad you’re both more like her than like me.”

“You’re good too, Dad,” Matthew says.

“You think so?”

“Yeah, you do a really hard job and it’s important and you’re in charge of it.”

“And Mom says that’s why we shouldn’t bother you with trivial things,” Michael says. “So you can relax when you’re home.”

Bill is quiet for a few moments and he glances at both boys in the rear view mirror. “I want you boys to know that you’re never a bother to me. Not ever, alright? You can come to me with anything. You understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” they both say.

“And to answer your question, you haven’t met your Aunt Dana or Uncle Charles before because I think...I think it’s hard for them to feel welcome. That’s why I’m taking you out to Dana and Mulder’s house right now so I can make sure they know they’re welcome.”

“Will we get to meet Uncle Charles one day, too?” Michael asks.

“I promise that when we get home I’ll call him and ask him if he wants to come for a visit.”

“Cool,” Matthew says. “Three new uncles and an aunt.”

The roads start to become more rural and desolate. It’s only twilight, but it feels even darker without any streetlamps or other passing cars. Bill turns off onto a dirt road and slowly bumps along the unpaved path.

“I think this is it,” Bill says, pulling up to a gate.

“Do they live on a farm?” Michael asks. “It looks like a farm.”

“I don’t think so.”

Bill is about to call Dana’s phone when he sees Mr. Mulder step out onto the porch, holding what looks like a long-barreled shotgun. He turns on the cab light of the car and then lowers the window and leans out, raising a hand in greeting. Mr. Mulder looks like he’s squinting and then he goes back inside and turns on the porch light. When he comes back out, he’s no longer holding the gun and he jogs down from the porch and down the path behind the gate. Bill sees his sister come out onto the porch a few moments later.

“Bill?” Mr. Mulder asks once he’s close enough to be heard. “What’re you doing out here? Everything alright?”

“The boys and I brought leftovers,” Bill says.

“Uh. Okay. Let me just unlock the gate, just a second.” Mr. Mulder begins to unlock some chains around the gate. “Scully’s been nagging me to put this on a remote, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet. Drive on up, I’ll be right behind you.”

Bill drives slowly down the lane and Mr. Mulder stays in the shadow of his taillight. He parks behind the car in front of the porch and the boys are quick to unlock their belts and scramble out of the car.

“Is this a farm?” Michael asks, running up to Mr. Mulder and taking his hand. “Do you have cows?”

“Sorry, buddy, no cows,” Mr. Mulder answers. “I think there might have been horses here at one time. There are some stalls out in the field behind the house.”

Bill gathers the Tupperware from the floorboards of the passenger seat and Matthew is right behind him to help him get everything out. Dana stands on the porch in a defensive pose, guarding her territory.

“Come in,” Mr. Mulder says. He guides Michael up the stairs ahead of him. Dana gives Mr. Mulder a look, but then smiles at Michael. Tara was a genius to tell him to take the boys.

The interior surprises Bill. It’s cozy, almost cabin-like. There are afghans on the couch and a well-used recliner. They’ve got a wood burning stove and a fire going. His sister is wearing slippers.

Mr. Mulder leads them all to the kitchen and takes the Tupperware from Matthew and from Bill. “Be sure to thank Maggie for us,” he says.

“I will.” There’s a few beats of silence and Bill eyes his sister. “Dana, would you mind if we talked for a few minutes?”

She hesitates and glances at the boys.

“You guys can go on the porch,” Mr. Mulder offers. “Maybe...these guys might like some ice cream?”

“Can we?” Michael asks, turning to Bill.

Bill nods. Never in his life did he expect to feel gratitude towards Mr. Mulder for anything, but he does in this moment. The boys cheer. Dana doesn’t look happy, but she takes her brother out to the porch.

“I’m not here to fight,” Bill says. “I just want you to know that up front.”

“Why are you here?” she asks.

“Because I don’t like the way we left things. I want to start by apologizing for...not giving you the benefit of the doubt. Or supporting you when you needed it.”

Dana looks surprised and a little chagrined. Her eyes water a bit. She wraps her arms across her middle and looks at her feet. “Thank you,” she says. “That means a lot.”

“I was telling the boys on the way over about that time you won the shooting contest when you were a kid.”

She snorts softly. “You were so mad at me.”

“No, I was proud of you. I didn’t tell you that back then, but I probably should have. Maybe it’s because of things like that that you felt you couldn’t talk to me when you were going through a hard time.”

“Maybe.”

“What I’m not going to apologize for, though, is my life or my family.” He pauses while she looks up and opens her mouth, but then she closes it again and nods a little. “I don’t think I’m wrong for wanting to live in the example our parents set for us. They were happily married for almost forty years and, God willing, I’d like to make it to my fiftieth anniversary and still be just as happy.”

“You probably will.”

“I think you might too.”

Dana raises her brow. Bill rubs the back of his neck and exhales, deeply.

“The kids were telling me earlier that love is love,” he says. “And, now that I’ve seen the two of you together, I think that he kind of seems like a decent guy.”

“I wouldn’t be with him if he wasn’t.”

“No, I don’t suppose you would.”

Dana looks at her feet again and rocks back and forth on her heels for a moment. “I would also like to apologize for keeping you in the dark about so many things for so long. I’ve been so accustomed to needing to keep things private, I forget that I can rely on other people. Mulder has to remind me of it at times when I start to shut him out.”

“You were like that as a kid. Tough as nails, wouldn’t show a weakness to save your life.”

“And a quick temper.”

“Yeah, that too.” Bill chuckles. Dana smiles slightly.

“I’m sorry I left like that. I hope Mom wasn’t too upset.”

“I think it might be salvaged if you thought about maybe coming by tomorrow? The boys really seemed to take to...their Uncle Mulder.”

“He’s really great with kids,” Dana whispers and two tears fall down her cheeks. She dips her head once more and puts a hand over her eyes.

Bill steps closer and pulls her in against his chest. She puts her arms around him and he rubs her shoulder a little. “I can’t imagine, Dana. What you must feel.”

“Some days are harder than others.”

“Does he help you through it?”

“Always.”

“Okay.”

After a few moments of silence, Dana sighs and then pulls away and wipes her eyes. Bill stops her before they go back inside.

“One more thing,” he says. “It’s important to me that you know that I don’t agree with Mom on everything. Just because I believe that her issues with Charles are her business, doesn’t mean I think she’s right.”

“You don’t?”

“Hell no. That’s her son. I would never. The thing is, Charles has told me he chooses to limit his contact with both of us so that it won’t cause problems between us and Mom, if she knows that we speak with him.”

“I know.”

“And, thinking about what you said and just...thinking about it in general, tonight, I’ve decided that if Mom can’t handle the fact that I have a relationship with my brother, that’s also her problem. I’m going to invite Charles and Patrick out to North Carolina for Christmas. I want to extend the same invitation to you and Mr. Mulder as well.”

“It’s just Mulder.”

“You guys are so weird about your names.”

“That’s how we like it.”

Bill puts his hands up in surrender. Dana opens the door and he follows. The boys are laughing at something. Mulder gets up from the table when he sees them and Dana walks into his arms. He rubs her back and nods at Bill.

“Can I get you a bowl of ice cream?” Mulder asks.

“Sure.”

“Dad, did you know that Aunt Dana and Uncle Mulder once arrested a man that was half-worm and lived in a sewer?!” Michael exclaims.

“Tried to arrest,” Mulder amends. “We only caught half of him. The tail end, unfortunately.”

“Gross!” the boys cry.

“Really, Mulder?” Bill asks.

Mulder shrugs. Bill sighs.

The End

#i wrote this #xf fanfic #bill scully #I never imagined I would have to get into this dudes head #perplexistan

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pollenat · 3 years

Text

RED VELVET and A secret romance with their gang’s rival

➛ Note: Obviously, gang!au. These scenes are super random and not exactly as long as others, but I had this in my drafts for a while now, didn’t feel like completely discarding the work I’ve already done.

IRENE

Joohyun’s body moves on its own, her mind still asleep. Otherwise she wouldn’t have (or maybe she would) turned and reached for the other side of the bed. The lack of a body disturbs her awake.

She’s not home, though the bedroom is far from alien to her. The contents of shelves, the number of stains on the rug, the location of small holes in the walls - she already knows them by heart. Something she’s proud of, but shouldn’t share with others.

Lonely, perhaps scared of the word’s meaning, she calls for you. Usually, you’re fast to drop everything for her. Whatever it may be, nothing seems as important as Joohyun. This morning you’re not running like crazy to learn her demands. A repeat of your name makes no difference.

An electric shock of nervousness makes her get up after long hesitation. This is a safe haven, somewhere the outside world can’t reach, and yet her mind comes up with only the worst of possibilities. Nude feet stomp down the wooden panels. The floor feels cold against her heels, but Joohyun doesn’t show any sign of discomfort. She makes a stop by her jeans, lazily discarded the previous day. Fingers tighten around the object pulled out of a pocket. The black surface gleams under a ray of sunshine. Its owner has enough experience to always expect the unexpected.

Close to the wall, she slides down the corridor. Quiet and eagle-eyed, she’s ready to notice the abnormalities. Her ears pick up the sound of ragged breathing first. Then she notices a silhouette reflecting in the tiles of a corridor.

“Why are you holding a gun?” You ask her, genuinely confused.

Joohyun scoffs, partially relieved, partially annoyed. It’s 7 a.m. and you’re opening a jar of pickles instead of sleeping in. She drops the weapon on a countertop. The sound that comes from the meeting of hard surfaces makes you cringe.

“I thought something happened. Why are you up and not in bed?” The frown turns into a pout as Joohyun hugs one of your arms.

“I just felt like eating some pickles-” Without another word, she grabs the jar you are struggling to get opened, and easily does what you couldn’t. “Here, open. Now let’s go back to bed!”

“I love it when you unload frustration on objects.”

“Yes, yes. I’m aware.” She doesn’t hand you back the jar. “Pickles will come later. Now, we’re going back to bed. You’ve got a lot of making up to do.”

You may have abandoned the snacks, but something about Joohyun’s strong pulling and a sweet smile tells you there are better things to do.

SEULGI

The night sky is dotted with stars, as if they were its pride - jewels decorating collarbones. Something poets have always described as dark, being light. Although you want to share that thought aloud, you don’t. Not because of embarrassment. Seulgi would never laugh at something you’re serious about. Your choice is led by the dreamy atmosphere of your evening.

The two of you are lying on a blanket, somewhere in the middle of a forest. An hour long ride away from the city. A spot you feel like asking Seulgi about.

In your peripheral vision you can see her face turned towards you. There’s a smile you must’ve somehow caused.

“What?” She hums, hand sneaking under yours. “You’re staring.”

“Can’t I?” Fingers tighten around each other for a moment, before you push yourself up to lean over her.

Seulgi’s smile is still adoring, though now it’s sunken in shy undertones. She’s like that with you only. Otherwise, everyone knows her as the scary right hand woman. Her boss would’ve shot you in the face, had they known how close you were. It’s the sweet adrenaline of forbidden romance for you. Now, smiling, your fingers curl around loose locks of her dark hair.

“So, how many people have you taken on a date here?”

“Believe it or not, you’re the first one.” She brings her hands up to play with laces hanging from your hoodie.

“Then how did you find out about this place?”

“You know, drove by. Was followed, so I hid here and figured its a pretty lovely place.” One of the laces curls around her finger, just like a strand of her hair around yours.

“And you thought of me? Aww, you’re a real romantic.”

She laughs shyly, embarrassed by the conversation. You don’t intend on playing around though. A kiss is enough to silence her laughter. Seulgi hums in enjoyment, her face now covered by the shadow of your silhouette. As you press yourself closer to her, the back of her gun, always pinned to the belt, pokes the inside of your thigh. It’s a strong sensation. One that’s bound to burst a bubble. Yes, you’re used to it, but for some reason it’s not the same as holding the weapon in your two hands.

“What’s wrong?” Seulgi asks, feeling that something’s not right.

“Nothing, just got lost in thoughts for a moment here.” But instead of leaning forward once more, you return to lying on the back.

WENDY

You’re smiling widely in anticipation. The door opens suddenly, but it’s not able to startle you.

“Are you crazy?!” Her voice drips with pure anger, but her eyes scream relief.

Without any second thoughts, you push her inside and cage her little silhouette in a tight embrace. Seungwan does a poor attempt at escaping. She’s aware it’s of no use. She needs the comforting gesture as much as you do.

“You could’ve at least texted me first.”

“I did, but you’ve never answered me.”

When you finally let her go, she pulls out a phone and then gives you a look of pure disbelief. You might’ve written the message on your way to her apartment, but in your defence, Seungwan is the type of person that always has her phone close.

“What if someone was here? What if others saw you? Do you ever stop for a moment to think?” She scoffs at your ridiculing smile.

“Oh come on. What’s life without a little bit of excitement?”

“Umm, a good life?” Seungwan states as a matter of fact, which makes you wanna laugh in her face. But not to spite her. Rather to show her how sweet her whole being seems to you.

Yes, you’re the blunt one in whatever your relationship is. You’re the one to be touchy, clingy, also the one to piss her off with how “little” you care about being caught.

“Babe, you really need to chill. I’ve got it all covered. Of course, unless someone decides to pay you sudden visit, but even if, then that’s not on me!”

Her feet don’t follow you inside the living room. Instead, she’s watching you make yourself comfortable from the hallway. Expression of annoyance still present, it’s only a matter of time before Seungwan joins you.

“Stop being grumpy and come to me! I need a hug!”

She secures the lock first, but eventually does as predicted - joins your side on the couch. There’s still doubt on her face which you’re not at all worried about. These moments with Seungwan are the only way for you to experience normality. It tastes of the woman’s favorite toothpaste, feels like a fluffy rug, sounds like scoffs and occasional laughter.

“The things I do for you.” There’s still anger in her gaze, though much gentler than the one that welcomed you few minutes earlier.

JOY

It lasts a moment. In just a matter of few innocent seconds, she turns from a blonde in over-sized clothes to the Sooyoung you know, but maybe that shouldn’t be said. The passenger side in your ride quickly goes from free to occupied, and you don’t even hesitate before pressing accelerator. A taxi driver you’ve pretty much almost hit, honks. Your ear registers a string of curses thrown at a “senseless fuck”. Unimportant - the window closes.

“So, I suppose it went well?”

Sooyoung is redoing her lips in the mirror. Bright red is stark on the canvas of fair complexion. The corner visible from your point of view turns upwards.

“It did. Your boss is rampaging tonight.”

“Eh.” Indifferent, you wave the image of the closest future away. “When is he not.”

Soonyoung finishes her makeup with a loud pop of lips. She’s no longer the cold Mrs. invisible you saw earlier. Now, she’s the version you’re the most familiar with - the happy-go-lucky girl that happens to be doing shady business on the side.

“Where are we going?” She leans over the armrest to stare at you. Her chin rests on a hand, like a child does when watching movies. “Or wait, don’t tell me! I want it to be a surprise!”

“In a few minutes you’ll change your mind again.” Without missing a beat (this time), you change lanes.

“Yeah, probably. And you won’t tell me either way.”

“That’s just how well we know one another.” Your smiles meet.

Soonyoung returns to her previous position, but leaves her arm behind. An open palm catches your attention. Fingers wiggle in anticipation. Amused, but in no position to reject them, you give in. Soonyoung’s grip is a strong one, full of need and comfort.

The car zooms through the city sunken in the remnants of a sunset. Pedestrians walk by, unaware that someone who should be behind bars is passing them. Same with the drivers. The thought makes your heart flutter from excitement. An overpowering feeling of having the world at your mercy causes you to put more pressure on accelerator. Soonyoung’s thumb caresses the side of your hand. Her red lips are a stable point on the blurry and constantly changing background.

YERI

Funny how the two of you live for the adrenaline.

“Isn’t it a bit risky?” You ask, swiping the corner of her lips with your thumb.

Yerim’s eyes follow, as you put the crimson colored tip in your own mouth. It humors her, and drives crazy at the same time.

“You love risky.” Neither of you address the tension, nor are oblivious to it.

Music may be blasting above you, but right now, here, by the bar, it’s just you two, a pair of bodies pressing at each other’s side without doing much more. Truth be told, the crowd is so busy with itself, you don’t know why you’re too hesitant to follow their lead, and join them with Yerim.

Your eyes meet again. These rendezvous that the two of you have every now and then are a rare occasion. Therefore, you always make an effort to take everything about the notorious Kim Yerim in, starting from the depth of her gaze, ending at the height of her heels. She’s a masterpiece, and your worst (best) rival, but not tonight. Tonight, she’s your alluring date.

Her head moves a little bit closer, pink lips opening to speak.

“Are you sure you don’t want to dance?” Yerim’s brows rise in a manner that could seem innocent to anyone else. But you know what she means, and you want to tease her a bit before eventually giving in.

“Why? Am I boring you with my wine?” Acting indifferent to her hand on your thigh, you grab a glass and sip on it.

She smirks knowingly, but sighs anyway. It’s all just an act to keep you going. Something of a roleplay - faking that you’re not putty in each other’s hands. The truth is much different. Had Yerim’s tone been stricter, you would have been the one to lead her onto dancefloor.

“What’s wrong with it?” Before Yerim gets a chance to respond, she makes a face of surprise, and pulls out her phone.

You don’t have to ask to get a gist of the situation. It’s business. As always.

Yerim meets your gaze with evident sadness. But that’s your line of work, and you’re not the one to keep someone from doing what they have to do.

“Just go.” You smile bitterly. “Before I try to steal your job.”

The kiss she gives you is too short, and too weak for your liking.

“I’ll text you later.”

➛ pollenat’s list of headcanons

➛ pollenat’s list of shorts

➛ pollenat’s list of scenarios

#nobody: ... me: here have this super random collection of random scenes that don't make any sense #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop gang au #kpop au #red velvet fanfic #red velvet scenarios #red velvet imagines #red velvet gang au #red velvet au #rv fanfic #rv scenarios #rv imagines #rv gang au #rv au

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partytilfajr · 4 years

Note

Salaam! My question is that since I'm in my mid-twenties and I'm starting my marriage search soon (I'm a woman) I want to know if i can ask the person I'm getting to know about their previous relationships? If they're a virgin? All of that stuff basically. I read that if they've repented for their sins they don't have to answer these questions or they can just lie and say no since they've repented, but as a potential/future spouse isn't it my right to know?

Wa alykum as-salaam!

So, Dar Al-Ifta Al-Missriyyah has written about this question, extensively, though it must said that the question they are answering is about a man asking about a woman about her status. You can read that answer here.

They write something that is important to note, as I want to underline that many times we fuse the rationale of larger society with the opinion of our Muslim leaders. In the opinion, they write this to conclude:

As for the claim of some men that they have to know if their future wife has fell into a sin or not is a corrupted opinion as it promotes declaring sins, revealing what God concealed, pursuing people’s pitfalls, and thinking ill of people which are all prohibited in Islamic law. As a matter of fact, there is no relationship between the loss of virginity and between adultery as this relationship only existed due to some cultures which do not see any problem when the man commits adultery whereas when the woman commits the same crime she is stained with shame and disgrace.

I just wanted to highlight that this double-standard that exists for women underlines to problems of our societies, and that Islam does not seek to enforce or encourage the hypocrisies that pervade society.

So, in short, yes, you should not be asking people about their status. The only time that people should be disclosing those sorts of things is if it impacts you. So, if someone has an STI, that will impact their partner, and so it should be disclosed.

I am quite aware that the standards for men and women are different, to put it kindly.

Boys expect their future wives to be virgins, while girls hope that their future husbands don’t have something. This is the double standard within our communities (Muslim or not) and it’s exhausting and annoying. I get it.

So Dar Al-Ifta, again, gives you the legal rationale, and again, they are writing about protecting the reputation and the value of a woman, since cultures have used sexism and misogyny to control women’s bodies and to stigmatize women for mistakes that they turn around and applaud men for.

My sense is that we have used this ruling as a way to protect sisters, but that we do not expect to use these same rulings for our brothers. I get why we do that, it’s an Islamic ruling that retorts and slaps away the sexist-fueled obsession with women’s bodies and the double-standards imposed upon women.

If I’m honest, I think most men tend to disclose these sorts of things, and many of them are not aware of this ruling--not anywhere close to the awareness of our sisters. I understand why sisters expect virginity, they’re like “hey, I waited, so should you.” I’d like to underline that there are more brothers that have waited, I’m not going to lie to you, I did not think it would be that high. Which is kinda sad, but I think you get what I’m trying to say.

Now, again, I think most people tend to disclose their pasts, both men and women, and I think they do this out of trust and love for the person they are talking to. I would counsel Muslims to not only take this sort of disclosure as a trust that they should keep to themselves and understand that whatever happens between you two, that you keep that information to yourself. I also think that both men and women tend to write people off for making mistakes.

First of all, we all make mistakes. The issue here is that we only have sympathy for people who sin the way we do. To be a “good Muslim” among Muslims, you don’t drink, don’t smoke, and don’t have a (public) girlfriend/boyfriend, and you’re a good Muslim. Our concern is centralized on discovery, so as long as people don’t know we do these things, we are fine.

We all make mistakes, the thing is, we are not defined by our mistakes, but what we do once we make them. Do we seek to rectify them? Or do we allow them to fester, do we seek help, do we try to fix what we’ve done?

The problem is that we fixate on sins that deal with our concerns vis-a-vis our place in society. The Prophet is reported to have said:

O those who embraced Islam with your tongue and its flow did not reach your heart yet. Don’t inflict harm on Muslims, don’t belittle them and don’t pursue and dig for their pitfalls as whoever digs for the pitfalls of others, God will dig for his own pitfalls and declare it before people… [Tirmidhi]

Now, I know you feel it is your right to ask this question. The ruling I’ve linked above. Just to speak plainly, I tend to believe people disclose this fact, regardless of the ruling--that’s just my sense in dealing with this concern quite often. I’d underline that you treat a brother as a human being here. Our world is filled with prejudices, sexism, misogyny, and all sorts of inequities too innumerable to list here. Of that, there is no doubt. When you are sitting across from another person, they are a human being--and yes different people benefit from these inequities and have various privileges--but I suggest that you treat the person across from you as that: a person.

We cannot abstract human beings. Our boys benefit from double standards--in that they are able to get away with things socially--but those double standards condemn them to facing the reality of their sins. Brothers cry to me about their mistake, it’s not just sisters, and yes, the brothers (if discovered) will face far less than if a sister was discovered, I am not questioning that, nor am I even debating it, I’m saying, just treat the person across from you as a human being.

People are going to ask and people are going to answer, but I ask you to show compassion for someone who is offering you a window of their vulnerability. We often look at potential spouses as products, with check-lists, like we are comparison shopping for a car. They are human beings. I’ve seen the dumb stuff boys write on Twitter, with their dumb jokes, talking about trust issues over a girl wearing makeup or whatever, and yes, they are cringe. I will try and petition Al-Azhar to make corny bro jokes haram, or at least makruh.

You are going to ask regardless of what I write here, and people are going to answer regardless of what they read, because they want to be honest, and it breaks my heart. People just want to be loved. That’s why they are reaching out. It’s why they laugh at dumb jokes. It’s why you stalk people on social media, because you want to reach out to someone else, to have someone love you and accept you, for, well you.

So I get why people respond and answer these questions, I know why people ask them, and I think the Islamic answer is there, and while the central framing of the Islamic answer is to protect women, their honor, and their place in societies that do not treat them with the respect and understanding that they should get for simply being a human, and that disconnect is violently enforced through sexism and misogyny--and Islam seeks to protect women from that human-made reality that contravenes the dictates of Islam. It is a failure of the test by God, on our collective society, that we create these inequities--for God demands justice, and our social norms are reflections of whether we truly believe in God or not, and when women face these barriers and prejudices, it means that our society has failed that test.

After writing this much, I asked myself: ‘why are you writing this much, Osama?’ I think because I have seen such a lack of compassion in our community, and I feel like we have taken religion and twisted it, but we are only aware of our rights and not our obligations, and that creates a very twisted way in dealing with religion and God--and then I thought about how consumerism fuels that self-centered understanding of God, so that religion really only has value as it pertains to our personal desires, rather than in improving our actions, softening our hearts, and in introspection so that we may work to improve society, starting with ourselves.

Anyway. My point is this: regardless of the rulings, you’re probably going to ask, they’re probably going to answer. If you can’t forgive someone because they made a mistake, then ask yourself why.

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favoniuscodex · 3 years

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Hewwo I really love your writing and I want to improve my own to a form similar to yours. If it's okay, can I ask what your writing process is or if you have any writing tips? Sorry if you already answered questions like this. I am not a native speaker by the way, can i also ask about how you built your vocabulary as well? Thank you very much in advance and I hope you're having a great day/night! Drink lots of water and don't forget to eat three meals a day.~

hello, anon! you’re actually the first to ask about something like this and i’m honored you think my writing is good enough for me to give advice on (and honored that you think it’s good enough to take inspiration from!).

i have two different writing methods, which are as follows:

long fics (10k+ words)

i write an outline and have my friends look over it to make sure that the scenes are both impactful and enjoyable, along with being organized. the most important part of writing a long story is making sure the timeline is coherent and that you have proper buildup to the climax of the story.

before i write a scene that contains foreshadowing to a future event, i write down what themes i wish to convey with this scene, along with any future information that will be relevant later in the story. this is helpful because you never write something all at once if it’s this long! you might forget important details, so having notes is always nice.

if i’m hesitant on writing a scene, i’ll talk it out with some of my friends and see if i’m still comfortable with writing it.

one of the biggest things i can recommend is being adaptable! being willing to change your story plans is crucial, because (typically) the first idea you think of isn’t always the best one. in my own experience, i change my ideas a lot as i write something. this is because i will get bored writing otherwise.

this is from my own experience, other writers may disagree, but i NEVER set word count goals for myself. i write when i want to write, otherwise i will get discouraged when i do not meet said goals.

take breaks or you will hit burnout fast!

have a glass of water and set a timer every 15 minutes to relax your eyes from your screen and drink some of it. it gives your mind a chance to soothe itself from the bright lights of a screen and also gives you a short break. and you stay hydrated!

short fics (<10k words)

when i write short fics, i typically don’t have an outline (unless if it’s a series) and i just go with my gut

if i don’t really like where a story’s going and i know it’s short, i finish it anyways because a finished product is better than giving up in my eyes? at least i know what not to do next time!

sorry a lot of these tips don’t pertain to actual writing! they relate more to planning. :( i’ve been writing stories for fun since i was 6 or 7 (i have journals upon journals of my first stories in my basement!) so most of what i do is just... gut instinct at this point? i apologize if that’s not very helpful of me to say. ;.; i don’t think of myself as very talented but like... i wish to say this in case it happens: please don’t compare your writing to mine! i’m sure your writing is lovely in its own right.

now that that’s said, here’s some stuff i can actually help with, which is under the cut because this is getting long:

word choice / vocabulary

first off, the best thing you can do for yourself is read something complex. like... the type of book where you have to pull out your phone and look up what words mean. if you’re not exposing yourself to new words, even if it is annoying to have to pause, you won’t learn new words.

this typically means ditching the fanfics and looking for actual published novels, typically older ones. i love fanfics (i write them lol), but the word choice in fanfics is typically limited to casual conversational language as they are written for fun, not necessarily to challenge the mind.

next, the best thing you can do is use a thesaurus. i personally use thesaurus.com but it’s different for everyone! but this is dangerous. using a thesaurus can be one of the worst things you can do for your writing if you don’t use it properly. you use a thesaurus to get synonyms for words that are commonly used, but may have a lot of other alternatives (i.e. happy, sad, etc.) and NOT super specific words.

ONLY use words listed as synonyms in a thesaurus if you know them and it’s safe to assume your readers likely know them as well! for example, i used the word ‘insouciant’ as a joke in my last fic. however, if i used that seriously, that probably would’ve been bad as it’s a SUPER rare word. nothing will ruin a reader’s experience faster than a story that blatantly uses too many words from a thesaurus and, worst of all, uses them improperly.

let me give an example:

starting text: “she was happy to see that he had returned safely. she could see relief in his eyes that she was safe as well. he smiled happily at her as she ran into his arms.” this is good enough, but it’s rather plain. it’s an easy read, but nothing about it is super engrossing.

good thesaurus example: “she was overjoyed to see that he had returned without harm. she identified relief in his eyes that she had stayed out of harm’s way as well. he smiled enthusiastically at her as she sprinted into his embrace.” it sounds a lot nicer before and definitely more polished, but nothing about this requires someone to whip out their phone in frustration to google a word. the point of typical writing is not to challenge your reader’s intelligence but to entertain them.

bad thesaurus example: “she was jocular to perceive that he had reappeared in an unharmed manner. she prognosticated solace in his blue orbs that she was guarded as well. he smiled jovially at her as she charged into his forelimbs.” this is a bit of an exaggerated example, but this is actually how i feel some authors tend to write. it’s very blatantly using a thesaurus, it uses words incorrectly, and it overcomplicated things to where it feels like the reader has to do a mental exercise to read it.

tl;dr for this section: if you don’t know a word, do not use it. if you are familiar with a word, it’s probably good to use as long as your writing still seems natural. thesauruses are your friend but can be your enemy.

i would like to clarify that i am a native speaker and it’s not necessary to read books forever in order to keep your grammar and word choice up to date. i have not picked up an actual published book within the last 4 years (don’t laugh at me i know this is bad). however, in learning to expand your grammar, reading books is essential.

some miscellaneous writing tips i have include:

you don’t have to take every request that comes within your inbox if you do decide to do tumblr writing. i probably, much to the behest of the people that submit, throw a good chunk of my requests out. write what you’re passionate about and your writing will improve and your followers will be happier.

if someone criticizes your writing, this does not mean they’re trying to criticize you (usually. don’t go on twitter if you want this to remain true). they are providing something most people don’t want to offer: advice. many times you will find yourself surrounded by people who will applaud you for writing nearly anything. this is not good. living in an echo chamber will ensure that your writing never improves. you want to ask people for advice and find those who will give you genuine advice, even if it may hurt to hear.

try to discern what authors you like do with their writing versus authors you don’t like. consciously making these comparisons will allow you to directly apply them to your own writing and help you emulate someone’s style as well.

please don’t write meme references into your work. it will get outdated fast. try to write something you can look back on within a few years and not cringe at. :) this is just my personal opinion lol, someone might disagree.

i do not proofread my writing. it makes me second guess everything. everything on my blog, as you see it, lacks proofreading, aside from inheritance, in which i had a beta reader glance over it. for beginner writers, this is probably shit advice if you’re not used to grammar BUT that’s just how i roll and i wished to share that.

the most important thing i do for my writing is have a good music playlist in the background. NOTHING will make you write better than listening to music that fits the mood of what you’re writing. find a premade youtube playlist or slap together a spotify playlist of songs you think fit the mood and get grooving to it. you’ll find that you’ll write better and you’ll enjoy the process of writing much more with the mental stimulus.

don’t write jokes in which you have to overexplain them. if you have to explain to the reader what the joke is, it won’t be funny. humor is difficult to write, but no jokes involved are better than a bunch of failed ones.

don’t worry about pinpointing fanfic characterization of a specific character perfectly. i get praises for my characterization of diluc and kaeya within inheritance a lot, even though i specifically altered them from canon (??????? this confuses me a lot that i get praised for this but anyways) and haven’t even read the webtoon. as long as it’s within reasonable expectation, you should be fine. zhongli shouldn’t be written as going off the walls crazy with excitement just like venti shouldn’t be written as super serious about frivolous matters. as long as you get the general gist of a character, people will enjoy it.

try to find some writer friends. they don’t necessarily have to be in the fandom, but being able to shoot off ideas with other people is amazing at improving both your plot and your writing overall. (shoutout to @shannara because for as much as i annoy him, he’s always willing to listen to me blab about any story and any idea, even though he doesn’t read reader-inserts nor should he care about my dumb OCs, but he cares about mine because he’s a cool dude)

don’t get discouraged if a fic doesn’t get good reception. in fact, it’s probably better if your first few fics don’t blow up in popularity if you do post them because it’s humbling and you can decide if you’re actually writing because you enjoy it or if you’re just doing it for clout.

i hope this made sense and if you (or any other people reading this!) need any more writing advice, my ask box and DMs are always open. if you ever want me to beta read something, please send a DM and i’ll see if i can as long as it’s like... not super long and i have spare time.

sorry this turned out to be so long but it turns out i had far more to say than i thought! good luck writing and i believe in you!

#long post #mail #advice #i hope this helped? i'm not very good at this sort of thing.#Anonymous

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