#so many thoughts and things to say about all classes but this is priority im going insane

[collecting--stardust]

Okay I'm back so now pls tell me why cele suddenly drop to p15 after setting the fastest lap (which was immediately beaten by Sam but you got the point) because I don't think I can sleep until I know why

#I THOUGHT THEY ARE GOING TO SHOW WHY BUT THEY DIDNT #so many thoughts and things to say about all classes but this is priority im going insane #the way he has a huge gap back to alcoba too right after that like did he run off to the gravel? huh??? #gutted he got passed by alcoba but p12 is still so good so proud of him 😭😭😭 #but i need to know why he got pace today i was quite sad about that hhh

[princess-of-the-corner]

Random Fanfic Qutoes!

I forget which fics these are from, but they make me laugh!

He didn’t need to look up to know Tsunagu was smiling at him. Which was good, because Katsuki’s eyes were never going to leave the floor. It was a very interesting floor, and he was going to stare at it until it conceded to his will and swallowed him whole. Any second now.

*

barry benson: i’m pan actually

barry benson: i swing all ways

barry benson: violently

*

Loaded: Oh I adore Izuku and he has some of the best support item analysis I have ever seen 

Loaded: I also adore Hatsume and would fight god for her 

Loaded: I would rather stab myself with a hot poker than be the only adult in a room with them again 

*

Spiderman: My guy 

Spiderman: My homie in whatever eldritch being Izuku summoned this week 

Spiderman: One of my four platonic soul mates 

Spiderman: You are the loudest mother fucker I have ever met and you have bombs for hands

*

Katsuki: Regarding yesterday’s shit show

Katsuki: Because shit shows are apparently just an everyday thing now

Katsuki: Like a goddamn las vegas attraction

Katsuki: But you know, my actual life 

*

I sawed this boat in half: -Lemony Snicket voice- the word ‘poison’ here can mean many things. 'Poison’ may literally refer to the presence of an unwashed llama in a stream from which a nearby village likely collects its drinking water. Likewise, it may figuratively refer to the effect of greed and isolation on the priorities of a young ruler, or the machinations of a villainous got an advisor on the health and wellbeing of said young ruler. In this case, however, 'poison’ most literally refers to the poison. The poison for Kuzco, the poison chosen especially to kill Kuzco, Kuzco’s poison…. that poison.

*

Homochromia: I’m not lying on the floor physically but I am lying on the floor spiritually

*

ura-ra-ah-ah-ah: ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ :honey_pot: help him get his honey

Ridley: ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ he has been a naughty bear… no honey

ura-ra-ah-ah-ah: :gun: ʕ•̀ᴥ•́ ʔ do you think this is a game

*

Dwayne Johnson: mina enters the kitchen

Dwayne Johnson: oven: on

Dwayne Johnson: water: boiling

Dwayne Johnson: pasta pot: in the oven

Dwayne Johnson: she is forcibly removed from the kitchen

*

Aux cord: im going to eviscerate you and hang your guts over the school gates

KarateKid: no thank you

I sawed this boat in half: remember kids, if someone tries to maim you, just say no. they legally cannot maim you without your consent

*

ura-ra-ah-ah-ah: how are you the younger brother

sanic: My brother left all his braincells in the womb so I absorbed them

*

Walking phone charger: YOULL NEVER FIND ME

Walking phone charger: I HAVE THE HEART OF A LION

Walking phone charger: AND A LIFETIME BAN FROM MUSUTAFU ZOO

 *

Walking phone charger: how this conversation began: lol we keep accidentally predicting shit how wack is that

Walking phone charger: us like an hour later: hey have you ever thought about the implications of the government employing kids to fight adult criminals who might kill them

*

all might simp: presiding judge who 100% has dealt with nezu before: im gonna have to ask you to be respectful

all might simp: nezu: i will politely decline

*

This thing where you say you’re “fine” when you’re clearly not has gotten out of hand. I’m making a Fine Jar. Every time you say you’re fine and you’re not, you have to pay the jar. No exceptions. (Mental health is applicable.)

*

Aizawa: Bakugou - it has come to my attention that you held a laundry seminar with the whole class on the third weekend after move-in when you realized that no one knew what they were doing, so thank you.

-

These are all great I love them

#submission

[dolphin1812]

I love how this visitor confuses the Thénardiers so much in relation to his social class that we see the full scale of how they treat people. We know that they’re dishonest overall, but we also know that they’re trying to be hospitable here, so the distinctions in their address are all technically polite, but they’re the different levels of politeness expected for different classes. We see this in the distinction between, for instance, “good man” and “monsieur,” but we also see it in how he’s denied a room. It would be rude to cast him out (and being rude is bad for business), but saying “there’s no room” is a perfectly acceptable excuse. Charging him extra to see if that drives him away serves the same purpose; it’s immoral, but the Thénardiers’ ultimate concern is avoiding having a guest who both can’t pay them and makes their inn look less fancy because he looks poor. Of course, we know that there is space, and the comparative luxury they end up offering this guest in case he’s secretly of a higher class demonstrates their interest in flattering wealthy guests. The speech about the decorations may be made-up, but that kind of attention is part of being a good host, which is important to the job in general but is even more of a priority for someone with money. It makes the Thénardiers seem invested in their guest and as if they are more “elevated” class-wise themselves (from, for example, owning fine bonnets). The fact that they need this man’s money again emphasizes that this is normal treatment and isn’t something specific to their moral failings (even if the dramatic contrasts may stem from that). Class was just that big a factor in how people were treated, down to the address used for them.

We learn more about the contrast between Cosette and the Thénardier girls here as well. Everything about Cosette radiates “fear” and suffering; she’s visibly malnourished and abused, poorly dressed, and melancholy. The other girls are warmly clothed and cheerful, likely because they’re well-fed and loved. They’re not wealthy, either; even they don’t have a very nice doll and have to play with an old and broken one. But they do have a doll, and they also are clothed properly for the weather. It’s a quick way of indicating that yes, the Thénardiers seem wealthy because they’re in a relatively poor village and have the contrast of Cosette right there, but they still can’t afford to spend that much on luxuries like dolls. It reminds me of the difference between how Fantine and Cosette were dressed when she left her in the Thénardiers’ care. Fantine had sold all of her nice clothes and was thus dressed very plainly, but her love for Cosette led her to save all her beautiful things for her daughter. Similarly, the Thénardiers prioritize their daughters’ appearance by buying them nice “bourgeois” clothes, but they don’t actually have the money to cover all the characteristics of that lifestyle.

I love watching the children play with the dolls (and the cat). Éponine and Azelma felt realistically young (and like an older and younger sibling) in how they approached the cat (which I hope got away from them quickly!), and watching Cosette stare at Catherine was both heartbreaking and cute (although seeing her rock the toy she made and tell it that her mother died was so sad). I want to be upset about Hugo’s Thoughts on Women, but in this case, I actually find them ironic in the context of the rest of the novel? The very first woman we were introduced to was Mlle Baptistine, who never married or had children. Hugo points out that this limits the amount of respect she’s given in society, but doesn’t add much more aside from some notes on her devotion to her brother. After that, we continue to meet women who are unmarried and/or childless, and while many of the most notable ones are nuns (like Sister Simplice) and may be gendered by different standards as a consequence of that, it’s so bizarre for Hugo to now say that a woman without children is “impossible.” I think Hugo does see a difference between “womanhood” and “woman who never marries or has kids, but it’s OK because she’s holy in some way,” so perhaps the irony stems merely from the overlap in terms? The whole thing is infuriating, but it’s also just strange.

#les mis letters #lm 2.3.8 #cosette #jean valjean #thénardier #éponine #azelma

[yaeran]

+ show up will you?

kamisato ayato

ah he won’t show up again you assume. still, how many times has this happened it’s almost as if he asks you out on dates just to not go. all for fun, his entertainment. you should’ve expected it from a guy of high class like him. he probably just has you for convenience however he was also your childhood friend he wouldn’t treat you like this. sometimes he had good reasons for not showing up anyways.

that was how you felt on the 7th date he missed. you couldn’t blame him tho especially when it wasn’t even a bad relationship. it was amazingly fun and its great when you’re both together but his priorities were shit. why ask you out when he doesn’t have the damn time. did he just want to claim you cause you were available?

“why are we even dating” you thought and your heart stopped for a moment. were doing so well tho. i did not just think that. right?

your phone buzzed,

ayato: cant make it, sorry. i love you so much lets meet tomorrow.

but you were already sitting at the restaurant. you had to order something but you hated eating alone. you ran your hands through your hair and sighed.

+

“im tired of it.”

the man finally showed up one date but you decided it was gonna be your last. he was slurping his noodles but paused, his eyes directed onto you. “what?”

“i don’t wanna do this anymore,” you fiddle with your utensils on your food.

he bit the noodles and swallowed, “yn, what are you talking about?”

“what’s the point of fucking dating anymore? you never show up to dates, sure we spend time together but its like for a few hours only,” you slightly yell catching the attention of others around you.

ayato was pretty lost. he placed down his utensils, “you dont think i give you enough, is that it?”

“no— no i just need more than just seeing you for 2 hours 4 times a week.”

“i can’t change that? you try handling even half of my work?”

“excuse me? its not wrong to have work its just that i want more time and if you cant grant me that then we should just part ways,” you say without looking at him in the eyes.

but it was all silent. you faced him and found tears in his eyes.

you don’t think you’ve ever seen him cry. he’s only ever cried at the funeral of his parents.

you did mean a lot to him and though he’d hate to say it, he also thought he was holding you back.

“very well,” he wiped his mouth with a tissue.

you nodded while you gathered your things to leave. as you stood up he clearly had more to say.

grabbing your arm he spoke, “im sorry i couldn’t grant you the love you wanted but i truly love you.”

he gently lets go.

you walked out the restaurant, you knew you’d regret and change your mind if you looked back. the blue haired man was hoping you would do exactly that. unfortunately for him, you have great resilience bit it was one of the many things he loved about you.

as you walked back home, he was drowning in sorrows in the restaurant, head on the table and whispered “say i love you back. please.”

#ong righg person wrong time amirite #+new spice for you! #genshin impact #kamisato ayato #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin #genshin x you #ayato #ayato kamisato imagines #kamisato #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x you

[alectology-archive]

omg bff why do you not like brandon sanderson's books? (im asking both bc im curious and also in hopes that you will rant your heart out)

I let my thoughts cool for a while before answering this sjdhwifhskf because his books just make me so mad. I've tried to organise my thoughts but I haven't really succeeded so it's mostly a compilation of all my annoyances with him. This is partly a me-problem in the sense that writers who’re only good at plot (which is mostly the case with him) just do not work for me at all. In my list of priorities good plot is ranked a lot lower than interesting thematic explorations and good prose (but he also sucks at characterisations - most of his characters are carbon copies of one another with slight differences, which means I don’t really end up liking any of them).

I’m going to put the rest of the rant under the cut because this turned out longer than I expected although I was typing this on my phone during class today-

His writing style is just really brash and lacking elegance or nuance - plus he has the most boring prose I've ever come across, maybe? I very much think he needs to step back and stop publishing so many books with such large wordcounts when most of his exposition turns out to be pretty useless. I just HAVE to drop a couple of quotes because some of them are such an eyesore, full of nonsense fragments and repetitions. 

He stared northward.

At the black and silver clouds.

He’d never seen their like before. They blanketed the entire horizon to the north, high in the sky. They weren’t gray. They were black and silver. Dark, rumbling thunderheads, as dark as a root cellar at midnight. With striking silver light breaking between them, flashes of lightning that gave off no sound.

LIKE.

War had come to Andor in the still of night. The approaching refugees would soon discover that they’d been marching toward danger. It was not surprising. Danger was in all directions. The only way to avoid walking toward it would be to stand still.

Me when I’m trying to desperately say something #deep (he does manage to write thoughtful stuff. But he also fails a lot of the time and he needs a better editor.)

Outside the palace, the Asha’man line was finally weakening. They’d given him the better part of an hour, blasting back wave after wave of Trollocs in an awesome display of Power.

When I talk about him prioritising Drama and Plot over thematic importance, this is what I mean, essentially? One of the main themes RJ’s books deal with is that war is a tragedy, but instead of trying to maintain the spirit of that, he delves into how Cool the asha’man look killing the enemy’s armies and dedicates a whole book - a memory of light - to endless war sequences that I don’t quite understand the need for... at all.

I've only read mistborn, his WoT instalments and parts of the way of kings so I can only speak for them, but mistborn was generic-YA-bad and the way of kings reads like a person who doesn't know how to write trying to desperately write fantasy so I had to drop it early on (I'm still trying to read it, but college has been keeping me very busy, unfortunately so I'm trying to prioritise Good Writers instead because I can tell that reading his WoT instalments has rotted my brain and ruined my prose. ugh). I've also seen people describing the experience of reading his books as interacting with a textual translation of video games (in a not-good way) and I agree, honestly!

What I hate MOST is that he specifically instructs readers how to feel about characters doing certain things instead of trying to steer them towards those conclusions. He lets you know that you’re supposed to hate x character and sympathise with y character instead of letting you decide yourself based on their prior motivations/actions in the story. I hate it when an author tries to spoon-feed everything to me and tries to force me to feel about certain stuff in a way that they specifically want me to - such writing also means they’re probably a bad writer if they feel the need to clarify to the T why I’m supposed to feel a certain way. 

Again, mistborn is one of his earlier books and I don't know if he's improved since, but there's also a bunch of fridging in his books, a sense of female caregivers being put on a pedestal, and female characters undergoing a character arc to embrace their femininity (while they previously rejected it) which means I have a harder time trying to believe he actually enjoys writing female characters. The 'how dare the oppressed subclass hate it's oppressors' thing he keeps pulling repeatedly in his books will never stop infuriating me either.

Also he is not funny and I wish he'd stop trying to be funny because I feel like throwing my book against a wall whenever I read what is supposed to be a ‘humorous’ passage. Shallan Davar bless you, the fandom loves you but I may never just because you get the brunt of his ‘funny’ dialogue:

“Well,” Shallan said to the captain, blushing but still eager to speak, “I was just thinking this: You say that my beauty coaxed the winds to deliver us to Kharbranth with haste. But wouldn’t that imply that on other trips, my lack of beauty was to blame for us arriving late?”

“Well…er…”

“So in reality,” Shallan said, “you’re telling me I’m beautiful precisely one-sixth of the time.”

“Nonsense! Young miss, you’re like a morning sunrise, you are!”

“Like a sunrise? By that you mean entirely too crimson”—she pulled at her long red hair—“and prone to making men grouchy when they see me?”

He laughed, and several of the sailors nearby joined in. “All right then,” Captain Tozbek said, “you’re like a flower.”

She grimaced. “I’m allergic to flowers.”

I’m sighing for a thousand years.

#it's also the homophobia thing and the mormon thing mostly #see I have my own beef with grrm but he knows to Write at least lol #I can't say the same for BS - he just doesn't read like a person who really knows how to write #sure he's creative. but he's not translating it well into a written medium. #asks #willowycreatures #text #brandon #<- I know I have a lot of his fans following me at this point so you're welcome to filter my rant tag #sanderson critical

[presdestigatto]

Hey how long have you been following f1? I started following in 2023 and I honestly got so shocked about lewis coming to ferrari. I didn't even thought this would be a real possibility.

It made me pretty upset in general, because I kind of feel charles was cheated lmao. He is there working hard to make them succeed and now they just bring Lewis out of nowhere, paying huge amounts of money to him and making him the ambassador of ferrari.

And like I saw in some of your posts now everyone is already giving lewis the credit for all the changes. I even saw someone on twitter say that maybe they brought Vasseur already thinking on bringing Lewis, since they also worked together in the past. Like Oh of course who cares about chuck. In their minds its like these.

So even if ferrari gets better in the next years everything will be attributed to him.

This is why I kind of hope he doesn't win the wdc. Honestly, maybe its because i'm new in f1 but I don't understand the hype about him getting the 8?? Like he already have 7!!! Thats a lot. I would much rather see the young generarion getting titles. I know he wants to break Schumacher records, but it doesnt seem like such an important think to me? Feels more like an ego trip. And even if you break the record, its not like Schumacher its going to be less than an icon. Senna, Proust, Lauda nobody cares if they have less championships, they are icons. And who knows, a few years later another driver might break this record, so then what? (Kind of hope for max to be the one breaking just for the funsies, since he doesn't seem to care that much about status)

So yeah I think i'm a bit angry with this lol. Like Lewis got his time in dominant mercedes winning titles with Bottas as second driver. Max is having this right now with Checo as second. I wish charles could have this, not have another first driver fighting for priority in the team. And who knows if they're going to develop the car more to his liking than charles. Since they're giving him such a fortune

anon you come into my inbox with such bold and controversial words you are going to get me cancelled /j

i started following f1 in 2023 as well actually!! i was similarly shocked, but i’m chronically online and have family members who were in this longer than me so hopefully im caught up enough to respond to this properly. i don’t quite agree with the parts on Lewis and i’ll explain more below the cut

first, honestly i think its very fair to be upset for charles. in terms of public perception, the move does not currently reflect well on him and i’ve seen incredible amounts of slander, though that’s also on me for not blocking and muting enough, lol. the timing, after we all assumed the first driver war was over with the 4lyfe contract extension could actually not be worse and i believe that’s a big reason for the dismayed response. there are like ten thousand opinions on whether this is good or bad, im more inclined towards it being beneficial eventually because i believe charles can beat a 40yo lewis. i doubt i can add something that hasn’t already been said by countless others haha, this piece here is especially good. ultimately, the team dynamics of a ferrari 1644 pairing will be decided with their on track performance, so it comes down to having faith in Charles’ ability.

now onto Lewis, i’m actually quite invested in him getting his eighth, which is why i, personally, wanted to cry when i first heard the news. as for why fans want that eighth title for him so desperately- uhm. AD21.

additionally, we’ve talked a lot about the ferrari mythos, but Lewis’ personal brand also cannot be understated. for many, many people, Lewis himself is a dream. a black man from a working class background who uses his platform and prestige to advance inclusivity, having his name etched in history as the most successful f1 driver of all time is to me the best thing to ever come out of this racing series. i know its irritating to see Charles be dismissed like his past 5 years at ferrari is nothing, but that’s a fan response, likely not what’s happening behind the scenes, and it’s honestly very difficult to begrudge fans of a driver for wanting their driver to win more titles.

tbh, the hype toward Lewis’ move is in large part because of how successful his sudden jump to mercedes in 2013 was. there’s a belief that he can spot a competitive package before it presents itself, and i believe in it too. this also is a good thing for Charles. i think recency bias with regards to his bad luck and the frankly bizarre media favouritism shown to Carlos has made most people who don’t follow Charles like we do underestimate him.

lastly, no comments for the redbull situation and Max lol, but historically it isn’t true that a championship winning team needs to have a strong first driver and weaker second. one example would be Seb and Mark Webber in redbull. Mark Webber gets overshadowed a lot because of the 2010-2013 Seb dominance but he was a strong driver who helped redbull dominate those years. the other examples are actually all Lewis pairings, i think it’s recency bias again driving this narrative that Lewis had an easy time with his teammates. Lewis’ teammates have been like, incredibly stacked? let’s not engage in Nico Rosberg erasure even though he’s currently pretending like he has absolutely no stake in what’s probably the biggest move in Lewis’ career. there’s this post going around about how 1644 isn’t even a top3 Lewis pairing and unfortunately until Charlie wins that championship with ferrari i am objectively unable to disagree. before Lewis got Valterri as a teammate he was partnered with Alonso, Jenson Button and Nico R. he pretty much had incredible teammates for his first decade in f1. and we all know he rates Charles highly, so all respect to him for deciding to throw himself into a new challenge w ferrari.

i think actually the fact that pundits and reporters are suggesting this could be a all time great pairing is a sign of how highly Charles is rated even though he’s not a world champion yet.

at the end of this Lewis and Charles would have shared the rare experience of having multiple, multiple wdcs as teammates and that’s incredible. let’s not forget that Lewis named Charles as the young driver he sees the most of himself in. honestly, if i had to pick a world champ for Charles’ career to resemble, i’d rather it be Lewis who has come out on top of so many strong teammates than Max.

#so yeah #rationally i think its a good move tho emotionally im still in turmoil i think that’s the case widely #do iw lewis to win w ferrari? yes but charles has to beat him to it for my sanity as a charles fan and for the sanctity of seb’s legacy #lewis is actually one of my favs and i can blab about him a lot sorry this is long #asks #lewis ferrari saga #ik many of my moots have been following for ages so if i got anyth wrong lmklmk

[zololacan]

What's your opinion on how modern communists movements should go about social justice? From what I've seen online I'm concerned that movements in the USA may not be putting enough focus on class. While tackling things like racism is v. important, class is the unifying issue. Living in Oregon of the USA has also influenced my thoughts on this, as in Portland there's probably more Black Lives Matter signs than actual black people. I feel like some Twitter progressives become so focused on racism to the point where they forget that, at the end of the day, there isn't much more you can do to fight racism in one's daily life than simply treat others with respect.

As a side tangent, what do you think are some of the top priorities for the left in the west and USA? Personally I think attacking the mainstream media might just be the most important work right now, given how much power it has. With how it's promoted anti-communism, imperialism, anti homeless rhetoric, etc. I'd say it's public enemy number 1.

What's my opinion on the modern communist movement, i rephrase your question as many like to think that there are multiple movements going on at once this is a false conciousness that has been persistent in the left in the united states since the Secret speech by Khruschev in 1956. the Communst movement as it stands in america you will find all sorts of people claiming to be Communists, many of them have taken up this label because they like how viscerally disgusted conservative americans are by Communism, socialism, and the strawmen that Fox news has attached to these sort of labels. this is a juvenile unserious behavior that we must overcome. if i may im going to make a comparison to something you see in Sexual dynamics and parental dynamics just to illustrate this point its the dichotomy of a bratty submissive saying something delibretlly to piss off there dominant partner or parent for attention. yes it can perhaps be entertaining in a sense for the person caught within this dynamic but it is not someone who is determined to overthrow the current order of things its that of one who is content to dwell within being the novel exception than rather be the hegemonic force that is dominatig over society

My plan is to Join the CPUSA and make it a party that is not a vanguard for the democrats as it currently Is it is the communist party of the united states i almost call myself a 'catholic communist' in a sense what i mean by this is that like i said earlier a big problem with the communist movement in america is the endless splinterring which is why i say there is only ONE communist party in america and that is CPUSA it represents the heritage of communism in the united states no matter the mistakes its made.

yeah twitter progressives are some crazy people thats for sure anyway thats my plan

[yourbleedingh3art]

Ok so basically i was so scared i dropped the ball and all my teachers hated me cuz they thought i was super engaged the first week but instsntly i started showing up to class late/turning assignments in late so i was like fuck theyre gonna think i was just catfishing them like im actually a dedicated student ive just been really struggling w balance and adjustment in the context of mental health struggles in a relatively new environment im still deciding my place in... so i was like fuck theyre gonna be so disappointed in me i already set them up to expect great things from me Im so teachers pet Im trying to be that student u remmeber , that student that literally makes teaching class easier cuz u know u have an engaged mind and a listening ear and a feeling heart dedicated to what ur saying, a student driven by natural curiosity like i want them to know i dont do school for fucking grades i dont even check my grades grades only matter as the teacher's parameter of course success and i care about doing well on a test not for the grade but to show the teacher i CARE about succeeding in your course because i CARE what youre teaching about It brings a tear to my eye you would share your intellectual property with me Because i do so much research in my own time, but with teachers i just get to sit back and learn and its truly a privilege not to teach yourself, it truly is, like when i cook for myself all the time then i get to go to a restuarant and its like. u didnt have to grocery shop u didnt have to mean plan u didnt have to ingredient prep or chop u didnt have to do dishes u didnt have to put away the dishes once theyre dry u didnt have to box up leftovers and u dont have to wash the tupperware the leftovers are in like I Love Saving time i fucking love saving time Im conscious of how i spend my time bc every moment of my day Imtrying to jampack w intention and its such a priority to me to foster my own natural curiosities so i give so many fucks about school i give so many fucks about learning AND I WAS SCARED THEY WERE GONNA THINK I DIDNT! THAT I WAS LAZY AND APATHETIC. REALLY ITS JUST BEEN MENTALLY TUFF BUT NO I HAVE CARED THIS ENTIRE TIME. EVERy time i showed up late to class i was raking myself over the coals i truly was. I already have blisters on my feet from how much i walk but when i am late to class I pound each step into the sidewalk so fast, and i can physically feel the friction worsening my blisters, but its more important to me not to be late Yo i fucking care. I care. And it paid off. Im really about to cry right now and it paid off. I was like caring isnt enough. Yeah i care but i have been so shit. "people who care dont turn in assignments late so " this negative ass inner demon. I CARED IVE JUST BEEN USIN SO MUCH ENERGY FIGHTING U! U NEGATIVITY DEMON! AND I WAS SCARED I WAS SO BUSY FIGHTING THAT SCHOOL WAS JUST GONNA HAVE TO TAKE A BACKSEAT. LIKE. FUCK. My teachers are just gonna get what they get. Im tryin yall. And then . And then and then. I have my head screwed on tighter this week and im all refreshed and ready to learn and i check my grades and its like. YOU HAVE BEEN LEARNING THIS WHOLE TIME. YOU HAVE BEEN LEARNING THIS WHOLE TIME. U HAVE BEEN SO CONCERNED W MENTAL PREOCCUPATIONS BUT YOU HAVE NOT BEEN ON AUTOPILOT. YOU ARE CONSCIOUS EVEN WHEN YOURE UNCONSCIOUS OF IT. YOU NOTICE THINGS YOU DID NOT REALIZE YOU NOTICED TILL YOU ARE APPLYING WHAT YOUVE OBSERVED/LEARNED! I THOUGHT the past two weeks that i was on autopilot, that a stand-in dummy was walking around in my body but my mind, the way i want my mind to be, the way my mind is on its best day (bright and fast moving and so curious and so loving and so trusting yet intuitive and creative), i was like That isnt here right now. Bc my emotions were so big they took up all the space. but that was just another illusory emotion! I WAS SUCCEEDING EVEN WHEN I THOUGHT I WAS FAILING. I THOUGHT I DID SO SHITTY THESE LAST TWO WEEKS OF SCHOOL, BUT REALLY, I GOT MY FIRST PERFECT 100 PROJECT GRADE IN COLLEGE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#THAT TAKES HARD WORK IT DIDNT JUST HAPPEN BY ACCIDENT #ive been working hard as shit #blog post #diary post #reflecting #reflection

[sonianvmd]

thh characters with a crush on you

warnings: none, maybe some swearing but otherwise nothing major

oH and mentions of murder and death but this is danganronpa so im going to assume u expected as much

a/n: so we kickin this blog off with a bang, writing for LITERALLY THE ENTIRE TRIGGER HAPPY HAVOC CAST LMFAOAOAOAO (excluding hifumi, yasuhiro, and the two despairs doe bc i’ve already made that clear)

also some character’s sections are shorter than others im sorry i just couldnt think of as many bullet points for them *tiktok cry emoji*

edit: I FORGOT CELSESTE FU K SORRY

spoilers under the cut!!

★ 彡 ★ ミ ★ 彡 ★ ミ ★

makoto naegi

when he realizes he likes you, he doesn’t necessarily panic or anything, but he does get nervous

nervous around you, that is

y’all saw how he was with sayaka

if he says anything that might sound intimate then he’ll immediately rephrase it or reassure he didn’t mean anything by it

he really only does have good intentions but his wording just kinda flops sometimes

he appreciates how you listen to him and value what he says

you don't make him feel dumb or inferior compared to a bunch of ultimates with actual talents

he’ll muster up the courage to tell you eventually

let’s hope his luck comes through 😁

byakuya togami

now when THIS man realizes he likes you, he a bitch nigga bout it 😐

he can't believe he fell for a common plebeian such as you

but it was hard not to

the way you preferred to get to the point

the way you were aware of your situation and didn't sugarcoat how you felt about it, although you certainly were nicer with it than him

he's ruthless

anyways

you knew your priorities and spent no time trying to use your resources

he noticed how much you had in common; in you, he saw himself

and we all know how this mf feels about himself 😐

he’ll be quick to defend you in class trials

he won’t realize he’s doing it but he just subconsciously protects you

but just because he doesn't notice it, don't mean the rest of the class brushes past it as well

yeah they on his ass LMFAOO

kyoko kirigiri

kyoko is very good at keeping her composure so she won’t be very obvious

she’ll probably just hang around you more

she’ll also defend you in class trials, calmly

“oh, it couldn’t have been [name]. i remember seeing them in their dorm around the time the murder took place.”

hifumi probably finna say some dumb shit like “aye what was you doin in their dorm doe” but anyways

she finds you respectable

if you have anything to contribute, she’ll let you take the floor

when she tells you, she’s very composed, but also very indirect LMFAO

she’s not too sure on how to express her interest in you but maybe she’ll go about it like “well, [name], now we’ve made it here, would you like to step back into the world with me?” or somethin else along those lines idk

take her hand

pls

toko fukawa

y’all know her whole “master togami” shtick

yeah so 😁😁😁😁

no but fr, toko ofc still has her borderline stalkerish 🧍🏾‍♀️ tendencies

she’ll often find herself staring at you, either in the library or in the morning meetings everyday at breakfast

but she isn’t as straight forward as she is with byakuya

i actually think she’d be mad shy and non confrontational

the whole thing she kept up with him ? yeah, never again

if you approach her first then she’ll be able to get a few words out but for most of the conversation, she’ll just nervously play with her braids

you’ll most likely put two and two together

unless ur a makoto kinnie bc then you’ll have to wait till someone else puts it in place for u but anyways

if you decide to approach her about it, you’ll kinda be backing her into a corner bc she’s just bad at deflecting things lmao

she’ll eventually confess (begrudgingly but hey i mean its better than nothing)

expect much stuttering and a gesture like giving you a small gift

and not to be that writer that uses japanese terms in english writing but toko seems like a tsundere but not really if that makes sense?? so she’d probably shove it in your hands and if you try to say something then she’ll just try to play it off as not a big deal lol

calls u a baka 😍😍

aoi asahina

i know y’all all see how she is with sakura

yeah.

aoi is the kind of person who’d like to spend time with their crush rather than shy away from them

she values you and your friendship very much

bring her donuts

just trust me bring her donuts

she doesn’t really realize she’s into you like that for a while but believe me, she is, the whole time

and yeah i think she’d be nervous to tell you bc that’s just natural but ultimately she’d be cool about it

uh oh looks like we goin for a swim

sakura ogami

similar to kyoko, she’s very calm

despite her big and bad appearance, she really is a sweet girl

she cares for you and your well-being very much

will indeed go on x games mode for you

the way she tells you is very sincere and well spoken

kith her

naow

im sorry this is like the shortest one i couldn’t think of much for her 😔😔

leon kuwata

flirtatious ass mf

and he’s lightskin

so this just cannot go well

y’all know that bit where it’s like the guy yawns and stretches his arms up and then wraps one around your shoulder

yeah that’s literally him LMFAOO

he’s very confident

he was fairly well known with the ladies at his old school so you know he’s rhockin wit it ‼️

but

you feel.. different than usual ??

those girls were just lil flings n dates bc he was nice enough to accept their confessions and it boosted his ego anyway so it was a win win

but you

he was genuinely interested in you since he had saw you the first time

he didn’t just acknowledge your appearance

he learnt about your personality and your hobbies and what you liked and such, and he really cared and wanted to hear you talk about it all

he felt the need to really make an effort to show you how much he respected and had affections for you

he doesn't tell you in a grand way

probably just asks you out to a movie or somethin

he's chillin

mondo owada

you know

for being the biggest, baddest, most respected biker gang leader

or just for being in a biker gang period

mondo’s a huge softie lol

yeah he gets violent but he’s a sweet guy who cares about and is loyal to his friends

so mfs need to be nice to you

or they gettin whooped

when he decides it’s time to tell you how he feels, he thinks over his words and he’s all confident there’s no way you’d reject him but then he sees you in the halls and goes 🧍🏾 LMFAOOO

he’ll push through but it’s like he’ll walk up to you and look away from you because he refuses eye contact and just go

“so y/n, would you wanna.. tch.. come to a drive-in movie with me or somethin’?... dumbass.”

real smooth mondo i think you got em good job

please tease him LMFAOO it’d be so funny

he’d probably yell but you can tell he’s not mad so you just keep going with it

but once you’re done tormenting him, you do agree to the movie, don’t worry 🙏🏾

also mondo would call his s/o doll

that is all

chihiro fujisaki

my fav dude in a dress <3

chihiro would be quite shy, but that’s just how he is tbh so no surprise there

he’s very kind so he’d check up on you often just to see how you are

he cares about you v much

the way he confesses is one that consists of a red face as he offers you a box of candy or something similar

and he’d feel honored that you reciprocate his feelings

he’d be very scared to tell you his secret but once he does, he’s delighted to hear it doesn’t make any difference to you

he doesn’t know how he got so lucky with you

not only because woooo they like me back but also because you like him despite,, well everything about him LMFAOO

sweet lil boy

i’d feel like he’d talk about you to alter ego a lot

and when u meet the program for the first time, he’s like “oh! you must be [name]! master’s told me all about you :)”

sobbing i miss him

kiyotaka ishimaru

okay here’s the thing

if taka were to like someone

i can’t tell whether he’d be more strict because he doesn’t want them to get in trouble (and also so it would hopefully divert any suspicion that he DOES like you since he treats you the same as everyone else, only more)

or if he’d hold back more because he favors them LMFAOO

so imma write a lil bit for both

in the case that he was even stricter:

he’d prefer to be around you because he believes the best way he can make sure you stay out of trouble is to make sure you don’t get into any in the first place

of course it’s impossible to monitor you every second of every day but he does his best to make sure you’re doing well

if he sees you do anything out of line, he’s shutting that shit down IMMEDIATELY

but in the case he let up:

he’d still lecture you but noticeably less than the other students

if your feet were resting on top of a desk, he’d ask you to move them and then leave you alone rather than yell at you and forcibly move them himself

if you notice his behavior towards you in comparison to the other students do not tease him about it he will go as red as his eyes /hj

either way he’s confessing to you with a polite but exaggerated bow while holding out a well thought out letter with both hands

sayaka maizono

she will tell you

idk why but i feel like she’d be straight up lol

she’d make sure she’s sincere

she is the ultimate pop idol and all so she wants to make sure you know that she really does like you and isn’t playing a sick joke on you or anything

ok bc

while i do think she’d tell you

i’d feel like she’d be a little indirect just to see how you feel

like she’d give you a free ticket to one of her upcoming concerts with a kind smile

and naturally, you're like :o

and of course you come to support her

and seeing you smile at her from the crowd and cheer her on was the encouragement she needed to push her to ask you out

for real this time

she asks if you wanna come to a concert with her and ur like “oh yeah i love ur shows!!” bc ur dumb and then she’s like “no i mean.. for another artist” and eventually it hits you that she’s asking you out and ur like “oH YEAH YEAH SURE THAT SOUNDS GREAT YEAH OK” LMFAOO

———

i really hope that this is good LMFAOO this is my first time writing for dr so 😃👍🏾

fun fact i finished toko’s section first and taka’s last 😁😁

and i’d like to thank @mius-imagination @bloodygir n the rest of the discord for helping me figure some of these characters out *simultaneously whips and nae naes*

bye ive been working on this for like weeks this took forever

———

edit: here’s a deleted section bc i kept blanking for this character 😍

#danganronpa x reader #makoto naegi x reader #naegi x reader #byakuya togami x reader #byakuya x reader #kyoko kirigiri x reader #kirigiri x reader #toko fukawa x reader #aoi asahina x reader #asahina x reader #sakura ogami x reader #kiyotaka ishimaru x reader #kiyotaka x reader #ishimaru x reader #celestia ludenberg x reader #celestia x reader #celeste x reader #mondo owada x reader #mondo x reader #chihiro fujisaki x reader #chihiro x reader #leon kuwata x reader #leon x reader #sayaka maizono x reader #sayaka x reader #maizono x reader #danganronpa #trigger happy havoc #makoto x reader

[angelguk]

if youre still thinking angst for jock jk: much like real life jungkook, jock jk i feel like wants to be good — at everything. and he really is great at everything! so when he isnt great, he takes it very personally and i wouldnt be surprised if this spills into his relationship. wanting to do things “perfectly” in their relationship but forgetting that jock jk! oc should be involved in the decision making of what is “perfect”

alternatively: olivia rodrigo deja vu but jungkook is olivia thinking about oc and namjoon

this is very much a valid angst prompt ur brain is amazing anon im giving u a kiss rn......... ummm lemme write sumn small for dis :3

featuring: oc being oblivious, jeongguk just wanting to be the best boypwen, namjoon being observant and unspoken insecurities

Jeongguk doesn't usually shrink into himself like this. He abhors it, knows it's not him at all. And yet, he can't help his behaviour, knee bouncing harshly against the bricked pavements as he waits for you to leave your chemistry lab. There's a dainty silver bracelet sitting in his pocket, his head resting in hands as the autumn sun beats down on his back. You don't know it yet but he's got a pretty date planned: a late lunch at your favourite restaurant, an evening walk in the park at the centre of town, maybe some arcade games or a movie if you feel like it, and then a drive down to the hillside where you can watch the sun slip beyond the horizon and Jeongguk can gift you the bracelet and the cute bunny teddy he picked out last night.

It's not for any reason in particular, Jeongguk just wants you to know how much he cares (loves) you. Adoration is what drives his actions, his head springing up when the doors finally swing open and your fellow students spill forth into the afternoon breeze.

You're always one of the last people to leave because you liked buttering up your professors with casual conversations and sweet compliments, so Jeongguk isn't too bothered when everyone disperses and you're still not visible. It's not like you knew he was here away – he did tell you he was stuck in practise all afternoon.

When you do appear, the tiny welcoming smile that was sitting on his lips plummets to the floor.

You're gazing up at a familiar face, eyes sparkling as the sun hits them, your features bright and eager. His eyes eventually shift to the person ambling beside you, taking his towering stature and confident stride, a sickening feeling spreading through his system when he recognises who it is.

Kim Namjoon.

Of all sights to see, Jeongguk would rather have his eyes plucked out by birds that see you around Namjoon again. Especially after what he said to him.

You're giggling, completely unaware of the violent twisting of Jeongguk's heart in his ribs and the words he'd planned to say dissolving on his tongue. You don't even notice him at first, Namjoon's eyes are the ones that stray away, idling over the campus scenery until the settle on Jeongguk.

He wants to smash something, fingernails digging into his palm as his fist curls. Namjoon just grins, waving him down like they're old friends. "Jeongguk!"

You follow then, surprise bleeding over your pretty face. Jeongguk doesn't know why it hurts.

"Gukkie?" A question. He notes how you lean into Namjoon as you draw close, like he's your boyfriend.

"Hey." It's said so quietly that Jeongguk considers smacking himself in the face. A tight cough follows the meek word, clearing his throat from the heaviness that plagues it. "How was class?"

"Good," you return, still confused. "I thought you had practise?"

"Coach let us out early," he lies, smiling hard so you don't see through it.You make a non-committal noise, vaguely appeasing the turmoil in his head. "Namjoon," he adds, finally acknowledging the asshole. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"Ah," he sighs, a sheepish grin spreading across his lips. "I got an internship here; Professor Song was kind enough to give me an assistant position. I'm considering applying for master's here too."

"Oh," he doesn't even try to mask his irritation. "That's nice."

But you don't hear it, nodding like an enamoured puppy. "Right? It'll be nice having you around again!"

"It feels good to be here," Namjoon returns. "Don't know why I didn’t apply to this university, to be honest."

Jeongguk knows. It was because this was your dream university and Namjoon didn't want to do his undergraduate with you trailing around like a lingering stench, especially right after your break-up. But now, apparently, he's totally fine with it.

"Hmm, yeah. It's a great university," Jeongguk states, disinterested. He turns to you with a tired smile. "I actually came to pick you up for lunch, you haven't eaten yet have you?"

"I actually did before class," you say, lips forming an apologetic pout. "Can we reschedule for dinner? I wanna show Namjoon around first."

Oh. The weight of his heart sinks him into the ground, earth eagerly swallowing him up as his head splits. So Namjoon gets first priority. Kim Namjoon, over him. Over your boyfriend.

"Yeah, yeah," Jeongguk shrugs. "That's fine. We can reschedule. Text me when you're done, okay?"

He doesn't miss the way Namjoon's gaze lingers on him as he turns away, waving you a quick goodbye. You didn't even give him a hug, stationed beside Namjoon like you watched to attach his limbs to yours. It's unsettling, how swift you loyalty glides away from Jeongguk. He hates how annoyed it makes him because he knows you don't do it purposely. But still, shouldn't he come first?

It's that thought that sends him spiralling, sitting alone in the heat of his car as the bracelet in his pocket grows heavy. Where you like this with Namjoon? Did you put him first? He thinks you did – you cancelled on him so many times in the course of that relationship. Did Namjoon take you to similar places? Did the two of you have moments you never shared with him? That one hurts the most, because even to this day Jeongguk has never shared the titbit of information Namjoon granted him. What did Namjoon give you that you never see in Jeongguk? Even with the title of 'together' hanging over your heads he doesn't feel secure enough – good enough for you. It's what leaves him on edge, overthinking each moment and word and touch shared between the two of you. Because it took you both so long to get here, what did you see in those other guys that you never saw in Jeongguk at first? He longs to be only one you remember, wipe away any lasting memory of any of the others, until it was only him.

But that feels impossible, further sparked in moments like this when you pick them over him. He'll always be the second option, the sideline safety. But never the first choice.

#ask #anon #listened to deja vu while writing dis #nawt edited #jungkok angst #jungkook x reader #au: jock!jaykay

[dancingintheraindreamingonday]

You will always be the winter soldier - Chapter 5

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Author’s Note: 

This is a flashback of your past with Bucky. Somethings weren’t witnessed by Bucky or you because I just want to give more details about the thoughts of other people as well. So this is definitely written in a third person perspective. This chapter is really long but I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway. 

Bucky sits in a plane to Munich. Sam got information that the leader of the Flag smashers are currently working there. 

Bucky remembers the last time he was in Germany. It feels like an eternity ago.

„Tell me why I need to watch this series again.“, Bucky looked absolutely annoyed. 

„Its a classic. Everyone knows this series. It’s like general knowledge.“ You answered while scribbling something on your paper. 

„ And why aren't you watching this series?“ 

„Well my love, I know this series by my heart.“, you smiled at him and then saying the exact same thing the actor said on the screen proving him that you really do know this series.

Minutes later you closed your math book with a loud thump and throwing it on the ground. 

"I'm sorry. I don't want to torture you with this series. Maybe I can make it up to you." You winked at Bucky and kissed him on his right cheek. 

„Probably you will find a way.“, Bucky smiled mischievously and kissed you right on your lips with both of his hands on your cheeks. 

You and Bucky weren’t virgins but you both never had sex with each other yet. It made you nervous. 

And Bucky was nervous as well.The last time he had sex was an eternity ago and women changed through the times. Now women are so much more emancipated and strong-minded.

You kissed him. On his face, throat, neck and down his torso. You wanted him as much as he wanted you. 

In this night you and Bucky didn’t have just sex- you made love that night. It was something absolutely soft, and warm and caring about it. 

There was no much of talking and there was no pressure- it was just pure love without saying the word itself. 

Everything changed from that night on. From that day on you both were a couple, without labeling it.

Two weeks later Bucky accompanied you to university. It was something he did regularly and you enjoyed it. It gave your the feeling he was just a normal guy spending time with his girlfriend. And James from Bucharest was  indeed almost a normal guy. While you were bubbling about a math problem no one except math students could understand, he noticed a man.

Bucky knew when he was being followed and it agitated him. 

Now that he wasn’t just concerned with his life but also concerned with your safety it made him anxious. 

He grabbed your right arm and pulled you in a small alley.

You looked at him confused and scared. „What’s going on?“, you asked not understanding his sudden behavior. 

„I wanted to give this to you.“ Bucky pulled out a small mobile phone from his pocket. You looked confused because you already had a smartphone in your trouser pocket. 

„It’s a safe line. So, if you’re in danger or you just think you’re in danger- call me and I will come and get you.“

„You’re scarring me. Are you in trouble? Are WE in trouble? Do we need to run?“ You looked at him, touching his face to make sure he calmed down.

„No. Don’t worry. Everything’s alright.“ Bucky lied. „I’m just taking precautions.“

You doubted this reassurance.

„I can ditch university. I can come with you.“

„No. It calms me down to know that you’re safe at university.“ 

„Okay. But don’t forget: If you jump, I jump, remember?“ You quoted the movie you both watched last night. 

„You’re stuck with me. Where you go, I go.“

He kissed the palm of your left hand. „I’m not going anywhere.“, Bucky lied again. 

And with that he accompanied  you to university. As he left, you walked into your class and you took out your phone and your homework. You checked the latest news. The day before there was a bombing in Vienna but on this day there were breaking that there’s a picture of a suspect. The picture showed no other than Bucky himself. Your heart stopped for a moment and you couldn’t think clearly. This explained his behavior and fear. You knew he was innocent- no doubt about that. You knew the man you fell in love with and James would never do such thing. The only conclusion was that he was being fraud by someone else. You decided to skip the class and go home to find James. 

When you arrived outside, the campus was quite empty because the majority of the students were already in their classes. As you walked to the gate a man was calling you.

„Hey! Wait!“ He jogged to you. 

„You’re working with Bucky, aren’t you? You’re his accomplice.“ The man in front of you assumed. 

„None of your business.“, you muttered. You wanted to pass him but he stopped you by grabbing your shoulder. 

„My name’s Sam Wilson and you really need to come with me.“, he said, scarring you with his words.

His grip was so tight that you couldn’t break free.

„Im not coming with you. Who do you think you are?“

„I’m working with Captain America.“ He said. You could hear the pride in his voice.

„So? That doesn’t make you an authority. I don’t trust you.“

„You saw the picture, didn’t you? You saw the picture of him in the newspaper. You don’t strike me as a dumb person, yeah? You know what this picture means. They are after him. They are already here. So I need your help.“

„Why do you need my help? He’s innocent. That picture is fake and I know it. But do you? Do you believe in his innocence or what aim do you really pursue?“

Sam didn’t answer but he also didn’t let go of you. So the only thing that you could do was to kick him between his legs. But your head start wasn’t for long. You can’t outrun an athlete. He caught you with his hand which made you stumbled and you fell face forward on the ground. Your lip was bleeding. 

„Im sorry. I didn’t intend to hurt you.“

As you looked around you saw police officers pointing their guns at you and Sam. 

„You called the police?!“ You asked unbelievably.

„Ey. They’re pointing their guns at me too. So no- I didn’t call the police.“ 

They handcuffed you both and took off. Sam talked with someone via earpiece: „I’ve got her but the police got us both. I’m sorry.“

At the same time, Bucky, Steve and King T’Challa were also handcuffed. Steve looked at his childhood friend and shared the information Sam just gave him: „I’m sorry, but they’ve got her.“ 

To say that Bucky was furious was an understatement: He would burn down the whole city if they’d hurt her. 

When you arrived at the office in Berlin you couldn’t stop all the questions that were floating in your mind. „Why are we here? Since when is Germany responsible for crimes that happened in Vienna or Bucharest? Why were German police officers in Romania? What the heck is going on?“ You asked but everyone was ignoring you. 

Minutes later a man entered the room and you realized that this was Tony Stark. „Who is that?“ He asked, pointing his finger at you. You didn’t bother to answer him. You just turned your head away. „Alright. Kinda mean but we will get the answers anyway.“ He sat down next to Steve. „Is the thing you have with him even legal?“, he asked you again.

„You tell me. He was born in 1917. I was born 80 years later.“

Tony scrunched up his nose. 

The screen was turned on and you saw James. „Why is he in a cage? Why is there no lawyer? Is this how Germany practices its law now? Did you tell him his right to silence?“ You asked almost aggressively 

„You’re audacious and naive.“, said a man in a suit. 

„Stop insulting me. James is as innocence as I am. He wasn’t in Vienna and I told you that from the beginning. And no one in this damn room is listening. You’re just looking for a guy to take the blame. I don’t know how America treats their suspects but here in Germany they have human rights as well. They have dignity and they are still treated with respect and decency. All people have rights. We learned that 70 years ago and we will never ever forget it, understand?“, you spatted. „You imprisoned and treat him as if he’s a monster.“

„My dear child, do you know what he just did today in Bucharest? The damage he caused?“, the man screamed. 

„But it were you with the loaded guns, right?“

„He’s not just a suspect. He’s the delinquent.“

„In some countries there is a trial for this question to be answered, but you seemed to be hangman and judge in once.“ You provoked him. This was so unlike you that you really couldn’t understand the anger that was inside you. 

„I like her.“ Tony said. „She’s loyal like a golden retriever.“

„Stop insulting me even more. I’m defending the man I love that doesn’t mean I’m a puppy wagging its tail.“ 

Before anyone could say anymore to worsen the situation the power was gone for merely seconds but the power was back, Bucky disappeared from the video. Everyone in the room turned around and looked at you. 

„How are you going to explain this.“ Tony asked you 

„Kid, you stay here. Don’t even think about leaving this room.“ As Tony walked downstairs he asked himself if you’re related to a woman he met over 20 years ago who happens to have the same last surname like you did. No, unlikely. Almost impossible. 

Bucky, in his winter soldier mode only had one aim: to kill as many people as possible. But something was off. He hasn’t been the winter soldier for quite some time and the impact you had. The thought that you were hurt made him even more lethal. His priority was to find you and made sure you were okay. So everyone who fought him was a threat, an enemy.

It ended in a cafeteria where Bucky held a gun to the head of a seemingly important man. Bucky was circled with dozen of agents, all pointing a gun at him. 

„Where is she? Where is (y/f/n)?“ Bucky asked

„She’s okay. You don’t need to worry about her.“, Steve assured Bucky

„I don’t trust you. I need to see her.“ 

„We can bring her here. So you can see it for yourself.“ Steve suggested while Bucky just nodded. 

Steve and Tony ran upstairs and Tony grasped Steve by his arm. „What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You can’t bring her downstairs to him. He’s dangerous and she’s just a kid. You can’t control him.“

„He isn’t dangerous and I don’t think he would hurt her. After all they are something like a couple. She knows him. And we will be there as well. Trust me, Tony. Nothing will happen.“

So they both accompanied you downstairs. 

You’ve got nervous, shaking uncontrollably. „You don’t have to do this.“ Tony said. 

„And I’m really sorry that I compared you with a golden retriever. I just think that loyalty is a great character trait.“

You smiled at him. „It’s alright. I’m sorry too. For being so angry and impulsive and arrogant.“

„Are you scared?“ Tony asks. „No, I’m not. I trust him. I trust the man I love. He isn’t the winter soldier anymore. And that he remembers me in this moment- that’s a good sign, isn’t it? So I had a little impact on him.“

Steve opened the door. You felt all the eyes of the agents on you. Thats really made you uncomfortable but you tried to ignore and only concentrate on James. You tried to relax. Your hands where cold as ice- something that always happens when you get nervous. You walked towards him. „You need to let go of this man, James.“, you pointed with your eyes at the man. „I’m alright. I’m safe.“ You approached him. „You really need to let go of him.“ Your voice was firmer. „The agents here are scared of you. They see you as a threat. So I’m begging you: let go of him.“ 

And Bucky let go of him. „They hurt you.“ He stated looking at your bruised lips. „No, they didn’t. I stumbled.“ You reassured him. „James, you need to put down the gun as well. The avengers aren’t the enemy. We can trust them. I do. I trust them and I think we might need their help.“ And you kissed him. Right in front of anyone. You heard the thump of the gun greeting the ground as James let go of it. 

You broke the kiss and caressed his cheek. But before Bucky could say anything you looked to your right and something you saw made you so scared. You pushed Bucky with all the strength you’ve got, making him stumble a few steps backwards. But that was enough to take his spot. 

Bucky saw the redness on your shirt before he heard the bang of the gun. Steve and Tony screamed „NO!“, but it was already too late. You looked at it and all the color of your face vanished. You started to fall but Bucky caught you, laying you softly on the ground. Soon you lost you consciousness.

Steve used the chaos to get Bucky out of there. „They will help her. But you need to come. It’s not safe for you here.“ 

During that time agent Sharon Carter kept Steve and Bucky informed but Bucky had a really hard time. „She’s still sleeping. You are not missing anything.“ She assured him. 

When you woke up you were greeted by non other than Tony Stark itself. He read a German magazine. „Do you understand what you’re reading or are you just looking at the pictures?“ 

He looked up and grinned. „Really nice pictures. But I also get help with the translating.“ He pointed to his high technology-glasses. 

„How do you feel?“

„Exhausted but okay.“ 

You looked around and you saw James standing in the door frame. „James“ you whispered, reaching out for him. „I’m so relieved that you’re fine.“ Bucky looked at Tony who faintly shook his head indicating that you were still oblivious about the fight in Leipzig and the separation of the avengers. 

„What happened after I passed out?“, you asked

„You mean after you got shot.“, Tony corrected you. 

„Why did you pack?“, you ask James, forgetting the last question you just asked. 

„I’m leaving for Wakanda. They offered me to free me from the mind control and I’m gonna take that chance.“

„Take me with you. I want to be with you. I can’t imagine a life without you. Please, James.“ 

He looked you deep in your eyes. You could see how he’s debating on the inside. „Okay.“ And he kissed you passionately. 

Tony didn’t like that idea at all. „Okay, lovebirds. We better should look for a doctor to sign the release papers and you can rest a bit more.“ He ushered Bucky out of your room and when the door closed he let go of his facade.

„You can’t take her with you. Thats really selfish of you. She’s kid. She can’t throw away her life for you. She is not your psychologist. You know exactly what you are. You’re a murderer. Nothing will ever change that. You’re destroying her life. And you don’t care because after all you will always be the winter soldier. Nothing will change that.“

Bucky looked at Tony like he just got slapped. „I know who and what I am. I will never be good enough for her. Yeah, maybe I’m selfish taking her with me but I can’t imagine a life without her. I love her and I will protect her. I promise.“

„But can you protect her from yourself?“ 

As you packed your belongings James waited outside your room. „You don’t have to go with him. You don’t need to throw your life away. You don’t owe him anything.“, Tony stated. 

„I’m not throwing anything away. He’s my future. He’s anything I’ve ever wanted. Wakanda will be an adventure and I’m ready to take it.“

Tony suppressed all the things he wanted to tell you. He hugs you and said instead. „If he hurts you in anyway, call me. I’ll come and get you.“ He caress your hair and without noticing he took a single hair of you. He needed to know who you were to him. He couldn’t ignore his curiosity anymore. 

Chapter 6

@inlovewith3 @jackiehollanderr @homesicam @dreamydreamerwriting @losers-club6 @gengen64 @agentsofsheilds @crimson-darling @akkinda10 @xemine @bubblegumholland @chipilerendi @iamasimpingh0e @bbmommy0902 @madddiiee26 @teenagedreams-bucky @aya-fay @idontknowwhatthisisfam @w-wolfhxrd @useless-creature-213  @angywritesstuff @supernaturalcat7 @harrys-stan @geek-and-proud

#sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes feels

[maibi]

All You Really Needed

Gojo Satoru x reader

Warnings: contains a spoiler of one of the first few episodes.. the summary also contains that spoiler so be wary!!

Summary: after the death of Itadori Yuuji, Gojo finally let’s go of his strong posture and breaks down in front of you. (I suck at descriptions I know T_T)

A/N: I apologise for any mistakes,, this was not proofread plus I am sleep deprived 99% of the time so I have no clue what im writing lmao. Anyways ENJOY!

——————————————————————————

Gojo wasn’t one that opened up about his feelings or emotions, whereas you were the complete opposite of that. your days together were mostly filled with you rambling about your days teaching the first years at Kyoto Jujutsu High. You loved your students, but it was a tiring job to train them constantly. 

Gojo never seemed to complain about his work or students and he didn’t really seem to take his job seriously, yet he always pulled it off. He talked about his so called dream to change the jujutsu world when in reality that wouldn’t be as simple as he thought it was. Even for the strongest shaman, this is a job that was almost impossible to accomplish alone. But as much as Gojo had confidence in himself, you believed he’d get far. Because whatever he wants always comes his way. 

For example: you.

You and Gojo were actually classmates throughout high school, but nothing really happened between you back then. Being in a class of 4 didn’t really help with getting you two closer. It would be you and your friend and he with his. It wasn't rivalry or hatred, but rather a situation of seeing each other but ignoring each other’s presence. Your personalities just didn't match, or at least that’s what the both of you had convinced yourself to believe. 

It wasn't until both of you actually became teachers that you grew closer to each other and that’s also when you realized he wasn’t as bad as you thought he was. Yes he was quite the clown, but in reality he was a very caring person. 

The first years of your teaching career had been a constant loop of Gojo trying his best to get closer to you. His personality hadn’t changed much, but in whole  honesty there wasn’t much different in yours either. The only difference was, that the both of you had finally become adults.

You liked Gojo, but telling him that back then would be like giving in on his constant confessions that you rejected as if it was a daily routine. Sooner or later you gave in, not being able to resist him. He knew you would fall for him, because he always gets his way.

You had been together for a long while now and even though you didn’t actually live together it was as good as if he lived with you. Both of you had an own place to stay at, but given the circumstances you always were together. With the whole Yuuji situation the teachers and higher ups didn’t really have a choice but to be together constantly. Stuff had to be talked about and for Gojo his students’ safety was his number one priority. Even though yuuji had brought this all on himself, Gojo had no intentions of letting him die any time soon. If they let him, he wouldn’t even let him die. 

He always looked as if he was having the time of his life, but you knew him longer than today and sometimes his masked slipped. He didn’t deepen the conversation when you pointed it out, but he was already happy to have you by his side. He didn’t need words to comfort him, but even if he didn’t it felt as if you didn’t do much for him. You wanted to show him that you cared for him and that you would listen to him if he needed to vent.

He didn’t show, but the whole Yuuji situation messed with his head. The higher up scheming Yuuji’s death and Gojo constantly running behind his back to make sure Yuuji is safe. It tired him. He always said he was okey and gave you kiss on top of your head. It was a constant routine, but you noticed. You noticed how he’d fall asleep the second he arrived home and how he let his weight fall on you when you hugged him. You didn’t say anything because you didn’t want him to feel pressured. But you desperately hoped he would talk to you because the both of you knew that would be a big relief for him. 

You went home earlier than usual. The students had begged you for a day off, but just randomly giving them a break was not the best option in these hectic days. They had to train, they had to get stronger. So you made a deal. If they caught you, you’d give them free the rest of the day. Of course they failed, but you saw great accomplishments so you agreed on giving them free for the rest of the day. They were also tired, you could tell. But you didn’t want them to get hurt because you weren’t able to teach them properly. 

You sighed as you dropped your weight on the couch. You let your head fall back and looked at the ceiling. Your eyes darted to the clock on the wall. About an hour from now Gojo should be home. You could already tell how he’d be when he got home. His sleep deprived posture walking inside as he slumped on the bed. You felt bad to see him like that.

You were surprised to hear the door open and when you turned your head you say Gojo walking inside with his blindfolds in his hand. His hair was wet and he was supporting himself against the wall. You noticed this wasn't like normal, but before you could even walk up to him he had left to the bedroom and slammed the door shut. You knew it wasn’t directed you so you immediately knew something was wrong. 

You raised from the couch and made your way to the bedroom. You knocked once and walked inside. “Hey, Satoru”, you said silently. 

He was laying on his back on the bed, his feet touching the ground. You walked up to him and sat down next to him. You brushed your hand in his hair and felt water droplets collect on your hand, but you didn’t really care. He was breathing heavily and his heart was beating rapidly in his chest. 

You didn’t was a word and kept your touch on his hair. He slowly rose from his laying position and rested his arms on his legs. His head was bent downwards and naturally your touch left his. You placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. “Are you alright-”

And suddenly he dropped his head on your legs. You noticed that he was refusing to look at you. He was rejecting any kind of eye contact, just so you wouldn’t have to see his worn out face. He mumbled something, but you didn’t hear him. But before you could ask him to repeat himself, he spoke up again.

“Yuuji is-”, he said with a crack in his voice. “Yuuji is dead.”

You were shocked. Your heart dropped and you couldn’t even imagine how torn he must be feeling. He stood up and showed you his face. His eyes were red, he had been crying. 

You placed your hands on his face and a tear rolled down his cheek. You wiped it away, caressing the spot a few times. “He did his best, so much. He wanted to become stronger, but I failed him.”

“No you didn't and I'm sure he thinks the same. You were so good to him and you thought him many amazing things. I bet he was so proud to say that he had you as his mentor. He was a great kid”, you said in a whisper to calm him down. 

This was the first time he had shown any sign of vulnerability. You didn’t want to let him down and you wanted to show him that you cared. You wanted to show him that you were there for him, that you were willing to do anything in your power and beyond to help him.

“They killed him. They planned this, they schemed it so that he would die. They’ve been wanting him dead from the beginning and I swear I'm not gonna let them have this. I will destroy every single on of them and I will show them exactly how much of a mistake they made”, he said in a small voice.

“Hey, you did the best you could. And I have trust in you. I know you’re gonna make it and you’re gonna show them exactly how powerful you are. This won’t go unnoticed and we will make sure of that. Yuuji’s death will not be in vain”, you said.

You embraced him and pulled him flush against you. You pressed your lips together and closed your eyes as you squeezed him, as if he was about to fall from your grip and were to never return.

“We will get revenge”, you whispered as you felt his breath against your neck and felt the wetness of his tears create a damp spot on your shirt. “For Yuuji.”

You stayed like that for a while and you were almost convinced he was asleep. You slowly tried to wriggle the both of you in a laying position because you didn't want to wake him up, but his arm squeezing around your waist told you that he didn’t want to move just yet. 

He moved away from your grip but placed his hands on your cheeks. “Thank you for being here for me and thank you for always knowing how to deal with me.”

You gave him a small smile of reassurance. You placed your hand on his cheek once again and pulled him in for a kiss, a small brush on the lips. “I will do everything in my power to help you get through this. And I will use up every bit of energy to carry on Yuuji’s will. We will protect the students together and we will take revenge for the teenager’s death. And we’ll do it together.”

No other word were spoken that night. No words were needed that night. The both of you had understood and the both of you had agreed. It was the first time Gojo had openly showed his feelings and you were more than happy to receive those emotions with open arms. To show him just how much you cared for him. But in reality he already knew and he didn’t need you to comfort him alone to understand that. He was a person that looked out for the smallest details and you just being there next to him, was really all he needed. And him being there, next to you was all you really needed.

#gojo angst #saturo gojou #gojo x reader #gojo imagine #gojo x y/n #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #itadori yuuji

[champagneand-strawberries]

How Do I Say I Love You. (D.M)

Draco Malfoy X Slytherin!Reader

Summary: The 5 times you realised Draco loved you. And the one time he told you.

Warnings: Alludes to/mentions of smut. A couple of swear words I think. Like the tiniest bit of angst at the end but its fluffy i promise.

Words: 4.8k

A/N: This idea popped into my head randomly at 12am and honestly the idea of Draco noticing the little things and then actually doing them is so romantic to me. Am I projecting? Probably. Do I care? No? So is this self-indulgent? Yes, but what fanfic isn't. It’s kind of an AU i guess, I wrote it with the idea that Voldemort died the first time around, but you can read it as though he is still alive and kicking. This also gets progressively worse as you read through it, but i don’t know how to make it better im sorry lol. Its also not been proofread so have fun. 

Tagging: @snitches-at-dawn @sincerelymalfoy

It was no secret that Draco Malfoy didn't reveal anything. Except maybe his hatred of the 'Saint Harry Potter', he very rarely revealed anything. At least not obviously.

You had chalked his lack of verbal affection up to his rocky relationship with his family. Even though his mother doted on him, kind words did not appear to take a high priority in the list of family affections. Instead, his father used words to belittle and seemingly humiliate him, while his mother preferred to send him sweets and buy his affection with expensive gifts.

So, saying that Draco didn't know how to be affectionate through his use of words was not a completely misguided assumption.

However, he also wasn't completely clear about where his feelings lay in any other form of affection.

The first time you realised what he was saying was during a potions lesson in 6th year. As it turns out, NEWT level potions was hard. Very hard. The amount of money you had spent on parchment and new ink in Hogsmeade for notetaking was astounding, and despite the amount of spare quills and parchment you had tucked safely away in your bag in case you ran out, it never seemed to be where you needed it to be.

All it took was a minute too long spent rummaging around trying to find a new piece of parchment. By the time you had sat back up straight to continue to make notes on Professor Slughorn’s chosen potion of the lesson, both he and the notes on the board at the front of the class had moved on.

You hunched over your desk and let out a huff through your nose. Even though the notes would be in your potions book, it still meant extra time going through the information and picking out what would be useful, and this was time you did not particularly want to be wasting when you could be putting it to use on other homework.

On the other hand, that was also time that you could be spending with your boyfriend, who, despite being much better at managing his time, was also rather busy with his own work. He was also seated right next to you during your potions lessons, which made for a dangerously low level of attention to both the professor and detail during practical lessons. You turned your head slightly, leaning on your hand as you shyly snuck a glance at him as he switched between looking towards the front of the class and down at his paper to make notes.

You felt a sharp kick to your leg, and it pulled you out of your daze as you made eye contact with the blond boy sitting next to you. He gave you a pointed look before looking back at Professor Slughorn who had since moved and was now demonstrating something at the front of the class. Clearly you had not been paying attention for longer than you thought.

“ -and there you go. Now, in the cauldron in front of each of you, I would like you to have a hand at creating your own in pairs please. The ingredients are in the cupboard and should you get stuck then the instructions are on page 79 in your books.” Great. Slughorn now wanted you to make the potion you had been not been paying any attention to for the last however many minutes.

As you went to put your parchment back into your bag a familiar voice muttered next to your head quietly, “don’t tell anyone.”  You felt him go to move away before he came back, whispering directly into your ear so nobody else could hear him, “but maybe you should be punished for not paying attention.” Your eyes widened slightly, trying not to give away the nature of what your boyfriend had just said. You immediately felt his hand cover yours and you looked down to see his potions notes as he passed behind you to head to the ingredients cupboard.

You constantly begged Draco for his notes, knowing they were miles better than your own and given his consistently good marks in everything he must have been writing down all the right things. But he refused every time, saying that it was cheating and that just because you were his girlfriend “doesn’t mean you get unrestricted access to the notes written by the best student.”

You had more than once joked about going to Hermione, knowing that she was on par with Draco for top student (if not better, but you would never say that to him), but he always got into a huff about not being the only top student and so you couldn’t leave him alone like that. Besides, even if he wouldn’t give you his notes, he was always more than happy to help you write yours. Most of your dates recently had become overwhelmingly filled with studying and quizzing each other in preparation for the exams, even though they were ages away.

Turning over the pages, you were greeted with paragraphs upon paragraphs of his familiar elegant, loopy writing, coupled with a couple of simple diagrams to better explain certain things. Immediately you started copying the information onto your own parchment, drawing up similar diagrams in the corners of the pages. Halfway through your writing, Draco came back with the ingredients for the potion and you half expected him to take back his notes. Instead, he carried on making the potion for the two of you, every so often looking over at the book you had opened before Draco left you to copy his writings. The pair of you worked in perfect tandem after that, you handed him the ingredients as he needed them, double checking in the book as you went. Going so far as to impress Professor Slughorn, not something easily achievable while Harry was in the same room.

The second time you realised what he was saying was during dinner in the Great Hall. The two of you had built a friendship off of bullying and teasing each other to no end, you called him overdramatic and he called you his eye candy and it went in a circle from there. Eventually, you both accepted your feelings and the relationship started from there, but you began to notice the difference in Draco’s behaviour one dinner time when a random Slytherin girl had managed to snag the seat opposite the two of you. You both knew Draco was a bit of a heartthrob, it was one of the things you teased him mercilessly about, but this girl had a slight reputation for being obsessed with him. Even when your relationship was made public, she still made it her mission to try and get him to like her in any way she could.

This one particular dinner time said Slytherin girl refused to let Draco talk to you. She kept asking him questions to keep his attention directed to her and was constantly asking him if he wanted to try some of the food from her plate. You were getting fed up, and it was clear from Draco’s shoulders sagging every time she opened her mouth that you weren’t the only one. A handful of the teachers had already retired for the night which meant that it must be getting late and you decided that it was time for the pair of you to make your exit.

You reached across the table to refill your pumpkin juice and turned to Draco, holding it between your fingertips before ‘accidentally’ loosening your grip on the goblet. It fell from your hand and straight into Draco’s lap, covering the front of his shirt and trousers with pumpkin juice. He turned to look at you, your hand still held in the air from where you had dropped the goblet as he set his own goblet down.

“Oops.” You could see Draco fighting to keep the grin off of his face as he realised what you had done, as he heard the girl opposite screeching about his clothes being ruined.

He didn’t move his head, eyes still staring into yours as he grabbed your hand. “Guess I’ll have to go and get changed huh.” The two of you jumped up from your seats and almost sprinted out of the Great Hall, heading straight for the Slytherin common room.

“Wait no, this way.” You pulled him through a secret passage that took you away from the Slytherin common room and lead him in the direction of the astronomy tower.

“As much as I love where this is going my love, might I remind you that I am still covered in the pumpkin juice you accidentally spilt all over me.” You could almost hear the smirk in his voice as you reached the bottom of the astronomy tower.

You rolled your eyes as you turned back to face him, “she was almost definitely going to follow you back to the common room and offer to personally undress you. I had to make a detour. Besides-” You cut yourself off as you pulled out your wand and muttered a spell that got rid of all the pumpkin juice from Draco’s clothes. “-now you’re all clean anyway. And she doesn’t have to do anything.”

“You devious little minx. Maybe you’re not just my eye candy after all.” He mumbled, smirking as he ducked his head down to kiss you before you could respond, pulling you up the stairs to the top of the astronomy tower.

The third time you realised what he was saying took much longer to realise. Trips to Hogsmeade had become a rarity since the professors had started to pile on homework in preparation for the NEWT exams next year, and so you were constantly in low supply of sweets from Honeydukes. It didn’t help that whenever Narcissa had sent Draco a bundle of gifts, including a selection of sweet treats, you had a tendency to steal from his own stash. Something he always berated you about, except you could never tell if he was joking.

“Is there any chance you have any of your chocolate frogs left?” You piped up, mid study session. You raised your head to look up at Draco as he turned from doing his charms homework on his desk to look at you over on his bed surrounded by books.

“I’ll buy you one the next time we go to Hogsmeade, I could really do with a pick me up right now.” You pouted as the familiar glint found his way into his eyes, “Whatever you’re about to say don’t-”

“But your favourite pick-me up is right here.”

“I hate you.” You shook your head as he laughed from across the room.

“In the top draw, left hand side.” He replied, turning back to his homework.

“I hate you slightly less.”

Finally, the two had managed to find a time when you were both free to take a trip down to Hogsmeade. You were ready to buy your weight in chocolate frogs and had pulled Draco along so you could compensate all the chocolate you had stolen from him.

As you walked along the path towards Honeydukes something in a shop window caught your eye. There were a couple of shops in Hogsmeade that carried a selection of items that were slightly further out of your budget, amounts that Draco would probably have loose in the pockets of his hand-tailored robes, but that never stopped you from looking every once in a while when something caught your eye.

As far as you were aware Draco had never paid any interest to what had caught your eye, you had learnt to keep it subtle after having mentioned one year that you needed a new scarf and found a box sitting on your bed later that week with a scarf that you were sure cost more than your entire wardrobe combined. The tag on the box only read ‘Keep warm, D.M’ and you knew instantly that anything you happened to mention wanting or needing around him would appear within a few days on your bed.

It was for this very reason that you were rather confused when a smallish red box wrapped in a black ribbon was sitting on the black throw at the end of your bed after the long-awaited trip to Hogsmeade with Draco. Dropping your bags at the foot of your bed you reached down and picked it up, attached to the ribbon, tucked under the box was a tag that was only signed with a very familiar looking heart shaped doodle.

Inside the box was the exact necklace that you had been briefly eyeing up while you walked past the shop. Suddenly Draco’s disappearance while you were in the queue to pay for your sweets in Honeydukes made a lot more sense.

“DRACO MALFOY.” You stormed out of your dorm room, clutching the box tightly in your hand, and straight down the stairs to the common room where you had left your boyfriend talking to Blaise and Theo when you came back. He had since moved from standing behind the sofas to sitting on them, his hands fiddling with a book that you recognised as one that usually sits on the coffee table in the middle.

“What is this?” You thrust the box into his face as he looked over to Blaise and Theo who looked between the two of you before bolting off the sofas and towards the boy’s dormitories.

“You wanted it, so I got it for you. What do you want me to say.” He shrugged his shoulders; it was clear he didn’t quite understand the gravity of what he had just bought you and how much it had really cost.

“Draco… I don’t need you to buy me everything you watch catch my eye. Especially if it’s this expensive.”

He opened his mouth to speak but you carried on before he could interrupt: “I know its not much to you. I get that. I get that this is basically loose change, but it is a big deal to me, because I won’t be able to pay you back in the same way. I can’t afford to buy you expensive things and I don��t want you to feel obligated to buy me things that you know I can’t afford because you feel bad for me. I don’t have anything I can give you in return.”

You sighed exasperated. It was not the first time you had told him that he didn’t need to spend his money on you, especially that much. You watched as he placed the book in his hands back onto the coffee table in front of him as he stood up to face you. He reached up and took the box from your hand and tossed it on top of the book as he took your hands in his to place them around the back of his neck.

“I don’t need you to get me anything. You as you are is more than enough for me, but you deserve everything my father’s money can ever buy you.” You giggled slightly as he spoke, willing the tears away that threatened to fall.

“Then I guess I had better go and thank him.” You smiled cheekily and went to drop your arms from around Draco’s neck, but he narrowed his eyes and pulled you up, your legs wrapped around his torso as he turned and dropped you onto the sofa as he fell on top of you and pinned you beneath him.

“I’ll send your regards don’t worry. But you’re not going anywhere.”

The fourth time you realised what he was saying was at 2am on a Sunday morning. You had snuck into Draco’s room while everyone else had gone to a party in the room of requirement to celebrate the start of the quidditch season and after much convincing he had finally agreed to read to you.

You weren’t exactly sure what the book was about, nor did you particularly care because all you wanted was to hear the sound of his voice while you rested your head in the crook of his neck, but from what you did pick up on it was some sort of romance novel. You lifted your head, ready to poke fun at the Slytherin Prince for reading a romantic novel but it was almost as if he could sense what you were about to do, and he quickly pushed your head back down to rest on him.

“Shut up. It’s homework for muggle studies.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at this, because as far as you were aware Draco didn’t take muggle studies.

“Draco you don’t even-”

“Shhhh” He pushed your head back down again and you could feel his cheeks move above your head as he smiled. You smiled back at him, knowing he could feel it, and let him believe that he was reading a muggle romance novel for a subject he didn’t even take. He opened the book, letting the bookmark fall into his lap as he started reading quietly to you. You giggled whenever his voice changed for the different characters and every time the love interest used a cute nickname for the lead character you couldn’t help but fight a grin off your face.

It completely evaded your mind that Draco could feel every single reaction you both made and tried to fight off, and he couldn’t help but lean closer to your ear whenever the book said ‘darling’ or ‘love’ just to feel you struggle to fight off the smile that came with those words.

Eventually, you fell asleep in Draco’s arms, his soothing voice lulling you to sleep while his arms wrapped around you kept you warm from the chill in the dungeon’s air. He placed the bookmark back between the pages of the book and placed it into the draw of the nightstand next to his bed ready for whenever he next wanted to pick it up.

He pulled the blanket up further around the two of you and burrowed himself beneath the covers making sure you were still asleep before he let himself relax into the sheets. Muttering a quick spell to extinguish the candles around, him he pulled you closer to his chest and pressed a quick kiss to your head before falling asleep.

Later that night the two of you were awoken by a worryingly loud crash coming from the hallway that led to the boy’s dorms, followed by an incredibly slurred and just as loud whisper of, “shit… sorry”.

You sat up rubbing your eyes as you adjusted to being awake and the darkness of Draco’s room, muttering a ‘what the hell’ through a yawn as you looked at the time on the clock above Draco’s fireplace.

“Thank god prefects get their own rooms.” You heard Draco mutter behind you. “It’s just everyone coming back from the party my love come back to bed.” You felt his hand run up and down your back as you fought the urge to stay in bed, wanting to go and check that whoever had clearly bumped into the knight armour in the corridor was okay.

Draco, ever the observer, continued his gentle touch knowing it would convince you to stay with him in bed where it was warm.

“Darling just stay, they can deal with the embarrassment in the morning.” You could tell from his voice that he was on the verge of falling asleep again, when the sleep fog in your brain cleared almost instantly.

“What did you just say?” You turned to look at him as he sleepily opened his eyes to repeat what he had just said.

“You should call me that more often.” He pulled on the back of your top to try and pull you back into his arms.

“I will if you come back to bed and go to sleep. ‘m getting cold.” You let him pull you back and snuggled into his arms, hoping that he would remember this in the morning despite his borderline delirious state at the moment.

But true to his word, he woke you the next morning with mutters of ‘darling’ and ‘love’ and kisses every time you giggled with joy at the words that spilt from his lips.

The final time you realised what he was saying was another one that took some time to figure out. Originally, you had thought that Draco’s obsession with undressing you and making you wear one of his shirts to cuddle in bed was a sexual thing, which wasn’t a far-off assumption because seeing you in his clothes in his bed did awaken a (not so) slight possessive side of him.

Not to mention that roughly 90% of the time you cuddled together in bed it did result in the two of you acting like you wouldn’t see each other for months. Not that either of you ever complained.

However, Draco always needed to be touching you. It wasn’t in an overly sexual way, he just needed to have some kind of skin-to-skin contact. He was forever, having you rest your head on his bare chest, or stroking the skin on the back of your hand, or playing with your hair.

But his absolute favourite by far, was pushing up the material of whatever shirt you happened to be wearing in order to brush his thumb over your skin. It didn’t matter where he could reach, but he just needed to be touching you. Whether it was your back, ribs or even the curve of your breast as you lay next to him. He just needed to be touching you. In the beginning his light touches would tickle you endlessly, which unfortunately was something he clocked onto far quicker than you would have liked. It resulted in endless tickle fights and on more than one occasion a pillow to the head as you tried to fight him off.

But these touches started to bleed out into public, instead of just the privacy of the four stone walls of his bedroom. People knew you were together; he had made that blatantly clear when a random Gryffindor tried flirting with you one time in the courtyard. Enter the possessiveness he discovered and had no problem using, consequences be damned.

You found him grabbing your hand on the way to lessons, intertwining your fingers as he stroked the back of your hand with his thumb. He would rest his hand on your thigh during lessons, and especially during mealtimes he would see how far up your skirt he could get his hand before you removed it so someone couldn’t see. This had become a favourite game of his once he saw how flustered you would get and he had started doing it in lessons before you told him off on the way to the dorm rooms after Professor McGonagall had nearly caught you with his hand under your skirt, fingers moving your underwear to the side. After that he stuck to just resting his hand there, but still tried it every once in a while in the common room just to get you hot and bothered.

People began to notice how touchy he had become and even when you pointed it out it him he told you he didn’t care. Because you were his girlfriend and he… well he didn’t say anything after that. But the touches continued, in anything they became more frequent the more people pointed it out. Constantly holding your hand, playing with your hair, an arm around your waist or shoulders or resting his hand on your thigh. His comforting touch was always there.

Until one day it wasn’t.

He had been acting shifty all day. He hadn’t been as touchy as usual, only loosely holding your hand and only putting his hand on your leg if you held it there. You had a free period and decided to spend it in the library getting work done, knowing that if you went back to Draco’s room you would only find solace in his bed and take a nap even without him there, which was something he saw no issue with. So you took your charms homework and settled yourself at a table in the unusually quiet library while he was in a lesson, aiming to get it completed before he arrived from his ancient runes lesson.

“Why don’t you care that I don’t say I love you?” His voiced appeared out of nowhere. Loud and clear startling you from your work, you turned in your chair to see him standing in the middle of the library looking rather flustered behind you. His cheeks were red, his eyes wide and you couldn’t quite tell if he had been crying. He took a step closer and asked you again, his voice breaking slightly at the end. That was all it took for you to hastily pack up your work and shove it into your bag before standing up, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the library.

You didn’t let go of his hand until you got to a tree just outside of the castle that was tucked away behind an old stone shed giving you some privacy but still allowed you to look out towards the black lake.

“What are you talking about? Where has this come from Draco?” You dropped your bag down onto the grass and reached for his as he let you pull it from his shoulder to dump it next to your own. He started pacing in front of you and you watched him for a minute, letting him sort though whatever was going on in his head before you murmured his name, just loud enough for him to hear to pull him out of his thoughts. He looked at you, this time his eyes were glassy, slowly filling with tears as he took a step towards you.

“I heard some Gryffindor saying it to his girlfriend. She got all excited about it and I just- I realised..” He paused, looking out over the lake trying to collect his thoughts and put them into words. “I realised I don’t say it to you and you never said anything about it, so I just assumed you don’t care. But then I started thinking what if you think I don’t love you because I do and-” You could see he was starting to spiral; he had broken the floodgates and now everything he was feeling was starting to come flooding out. Draco was known for holding in his feelings and you didn’t know he had been feeling like this, let alone how long he had been holding this in, so there was no telling how much he had to say and how deep he was about to let himself delve. So, you did the one thing you knew without fail would shut him up.

Stepping forward you rested your hands on either side of his face and pressed a kiss to his tear-stained cheeks before landing on his lips. His arms dropped to his sides immediately and you felt the tension leave his jaw as he kissed you back before his hands clutched at your waist, thumbing the material of your shirt up under your skirt so he could rub circles onto your bare skin.

After what felt like hours you parted, you looked at him, wiping away the tears that you doubted he even realised had fallen, and ran your hands up through his hair to push it back from his face. His eyes stayed closed, like the second he did the moment would end and you looked at him, just watching as he stood there in front of you.

“I don’t need to hear you say it Draco. You tell me all the time. All of the gifts, the cute little nicknames, the way you always have to be touching me.” You felt his hands squeeze your sides at that comment. “Hell, you don’t even bully me as much as you used to.” You giggled watching as he tried not to smile, knowing that you were right. “

They’re just words to me now, everything you do shows me that you love me.”

He finally opened his eyes and looked down at you, your eyes fierce as you tried to convince him that you didn’t need to hear him say it. He opened his mouth to speak before stuttering slightly, his eyes screwed closed before he opened them again and looked at you.

“I love you.”

You paused, smiling through watery eyes as he said the words he had been struggling to say out loud for such a long time.

“I love you too.”

#draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #h writes

[deleteddewewted]

Incel!Shinsou Oneshot: "Why are you acting like that?”

To keep busy I just thought that a oneshot of Shinsou getting self conscious/needy would be cute since we already have his redemption arc rolling in. The next part of the Incel!Shinsou series (Part 3) will have him proving his worth at the Sports Festival. So in thinking of how he will prove himself to you I thought of how will all of those people affect him, especially you. ( This oneshot takes place pre changes, so Shinsou is still his disgusting self but he's figuring out how to woo a woman, especially of your caliber.)

Incel!Shinsou Series:

Part 1: Incel! Shinsou x F!Reader

Part 2: Incel! Shinsou x F!Reader

Incel!Shinsou Headcanons

"I know what you're doin' here. Made your intentions clear. Oh you, you terrible thing, you. Terrible thing, you. Terrible thing, you. Beautiful thing"

TW: Strong Language, Mild Sexism

People were never an obstacle when it came to the things Shinsou wanted. He’s aware that others would do anything for him if he played his cards right. The right words with the right question did wonders for him. So why the fuck couldn’t he have what he wanted when it came to you? You drove him up the wall with the kindness you showed him. He didn’t deserve it and you’re existence almost felt like a punishment from whatever deity that existed out there to make him suffer. You guys were suppose to be studying for your upcoming project that required a poster, a slide show, and one influential person that would help prove your projects point. You left him running circles within his own mind as to how you were so willing to challenge him. He wanted you to obey him not see through his bullshit. It wasn’t like you didn’t listen to him vent, or didn't give him attention, but he wanted to hold you under his control. To be the person you listened to.

In class you where both seated on the extreme ends of the room on opposite sides. You never realized this (you do), but his head would periodically turn towards your direction to look at you, to figure you out (liar). This time, you managed to catch him do it.

“What are you doing?” You asked plainly. You honestly didn’t care that he was staring, everyone does when you dress like you're attending an MCR concert in the middle of autumn.

“You look different....today.”

“Nice.” It was difficult to care. Shinsou was just some guy in your class that you had to deal with. Nothing special really....ok, maybe it wasn’t fully true. You didn’t really know him all that well or anything (Unless it was mocking and belittling everything you did, that was normal behavior for him so it wasn’t surprising to find out he was like that outside of campus.) but he wasn’t all that bad? If he cared for himself a bit more, hygiene wise he would be considered handsome or at least a competent human being (you weren't going to call him a man, men don't act this childish. At least the ones you knew.) Maybe then you would take his opinion seriously, but for now you’ll ignore his...interesting comments he's been throwing towards you today.

“It’s rude to ignore someone when their talking to you, you know?” The neutral face he had now possessed a frown and a furrow to his brows. You still couldn’t process how he took the time to make sure his hair stayed purple but didn’t care for his body odor. (This man dyes his hair purple yet cant bother to shower or use deodorant for once in his life.)

“I’m not ignoring you, I’m just not interested in anything you have to say.” With that you get up and take your things and leave. There was no point in wasting time on someone who couldn’t even look at you directly and had to also sneak glances at you. "Do I really look that unbearable?" you thought to yourself. In the end you didn’t care anymore, everyone was entitled to an opinion and the last thing you need is feeling self conscious because of your out of place classmate.

Shinsou was fuming. How the fuck did you just get up and leave his ass while he was trying to complement you. You should have been more appreciative that he was giving you his attention for once. A bitch like you wasn't even worth it so he doesn't understand why he even tried with you.

He never goes directly home after school but instead to the local theater. It was one of the few places where he could be around others and could genuinely be himself. It was weird, he didn't feel like himself when he was speaking with his "friends", friends that he's never spoken to verbally, never seen, and never would meet. He knew that he didn't deserve this, to have a safe haven when he acts like an ass, yet here he was.

"Good morning Shinsou! How are you? Are you ready for rehearsals? You did remember to read your lines, right?" Shinsou rolls his eyes at his theater mates antics. Monoma never seems to stop but he does know when to tone it down and when it comes to Shinsou he tones it down a bit. (Because Monoma is canonically considerate of others, look back the Sports Festival and the Joint Training Arc.)

"Im good man, yes i did read and memorized the script, dont worry about it." What an odd friendship, the most chaotic gentleman like man out the bunch with the quietist incel in the group. Shinsou should have seen it coming when he was adopted by Monoma but he's running on 2 to 4 hours of sleep so he doesn't really care.

Believe it or not Shinsou does take showers (only for theater) but very quickly and with no care (no shampoo or soap, fucking why man.) Theater means more to him and so making his character look the best they possible can was his first and foremost priority. He puts on his costume, gets to makeup (the minimum, because it's "gay" for him to wear makeup and since the world is unfair and cruel he has perfect skin for a greasy headed asshole.)

"Everyone get a move on! Kodai, Tsuburaba, and Awase! Go to stage left! Light techs, how's it up there?" One of the tech heads shouted out. Shinsou and Monoma got to their positions on the stage and the rehearsals began.

Love, the play was about love. Love that wasn't rejected but also not accepted. He didn't understand the concept fully. Was it romantic? Platonic? Familiar? Admiration? He loved his dad, but he mostly admired him. He worked long hours and middle resents him for not being there for him, yet he realizes that his dad works to give him the world, a home with all the things he wanted. He never had a mother so he never had parental or familiar, again his dad was there but he wanted a parent that would hold him when he came back from school everyday. He didn't have a girlfriend, so he doesn't know romantic. So far all of his characters where villains, or evil in some way. He was starting to get sick of them. Shinsou wanted something more, wanted to play a character that wasn't how everyone saw him as on his day to day life. He wanted a challenge, he wanted....affection. Just to show it. He wanted attraction. Just to abuse it. He wanted...love. To just...maybe...feel...enjoy...understand it.

"You terrible thing you. My love, you're so cold. You've left me hanging on every one of your words. You've made me loose my self, lose my self-control because of you!" He pours everything into his performance, his loneliness, his regrets, his experience. He's been told by his co-performers and directors that he has a great future in the arts, in theater. If he just took care of himself more he would be an amazing actor, not only incredibly talented but also attractive. He would have the world kneeling, bowing to him just from his words alone. He could have anything he wanted just because of his existence.

" You've made me do things i don't want to do...for you." Kodai stands there looking horrified. He's covered in blood, the blood of her lover, the one she left him for.

"No, i-i didn't-"

"YOU MADE ME-MADE DO THIS FOR YOU! You terrible, terrible, terrible thing! You beautiful thing, I've done this for you!...and you still cant and won't love me." He doesn't see Kodai anymore. It's not her face he sees, nor her voice that he hears.

Its you...its your voice. You. You looking back at him while he slowly lowered himself to kneel and crawl towards you. It's you who backs away from him as he starts to cry and hiccup.

"You wreck me, you made me. You leave me in your wake, please let me go!" He sees you and feels you grabbing his wrists back, pushing him into himself.

"Don't you ever let me go...."

You terrible beautiful thing, you.

And here we are again. This was a lot fun to write since it feels more concrete when it comes towards his personality and his full thought process. In many cases people like Shinsou just want attention or some sense of validation, which there is nothing wrong with wanting those things but it's more about the manner you go about it. You shouldn't pressure or force others to spend time with you, but there is always someone out there that will like to give you those things.

Tag list: @blossominglark

#bnha #mha #shinso x reader #shinsou #shinsou x reader #my hero academia #mha angst #sad fic #fanfiction #incel shinsou #incelshinso #shinso is a dick #alt #enemies to lovers #shinsou hcs #mha shinsou #bnha shinso hitoshi #shinso hitoshi #my hero academia shinsou #mha headcanons #hitoshi shinsou #shinso x y/n #shinsou x y/n #shinso hitoshi x reader

[khaleesiofalicante]

I really said fuck classes who needs notes anyway (i do I have 5 tests in the next two weeks)

before I post my live blog here, I feel like people really underestimate how bad rumors are and how much they fuck with your mental health. they don't lose sleep over them, they don't think twice. but these things are harmful as fuck. they leave wounds that take so long to recover from because you keep on thinking about these lies who to others are "just words"

I've been there. it's not fun. I wish I had the courage back then to stand up to those rumors which I have now. these things never leave you. others might move on but the healing process is a journey that is long and hard. I wish more people understood just what effect their words can have.

Yeah, he knew a thing or two about family members going overboard with glitter.

IT'S RAFAEL CENTRIC GHSYGUJDUYDFUIKFDUIDFIUDF

TAVVY

TAVVY

TAVVY

DCSUIHDCSUIDUYUDICUIVSDUIHFVSUILFBUHKIFSV

I feel like I keyboard smash A LOT

“You will never drink even if you are not riding the bike,” Dad had pointed out – all Consul Voice and threatening glares. “The legal age for drinking in New York is 21.”

“But it’s 15 in Idris!”

“Well unfortunately for you, we are in Exile,” dad had grinned.

DAD ALEC UHIKSFDUIHKSGUIKSDVUIHKDVUHIKSVD

Max had a habit of ‘borrowing’ things and selling them on eBay. In his brother’s defense, Bapak had so many clothes that he never noticed when things disappeared. But Rafael did since he had a habit of wearing his father’s clothes.

The warlock – not the shadowhunter.

He wouldn’t be caught dead in one of those sweaters.

Now that Rafael was 18, he was almost as tall as his father.

The shadowhunter – not the warlock.

I AM SCREAMING

I love how he's clarifying which one he's talking about

“Do you know I used to have a crush on Lily Chen?” Tavvy blushed. “But then I found out she made out with Helen once and it kinda got weird.”

Ah yes. I remember. Does Rafael know that Alec also walked in on them?

ARCHITECT TAVVY

SDHDVUHDFSV,YDSFVUYVSFFUSVFUVFS

SHADOWUNTERS ATTENDING MUNDANE COLLEGES

“Dude, college kids don’t give a shit,” Tavvy laughed. “You could walk into a lecture covered in runes, holding a seraph blade and they wouldn’t give you a second look.”

“Cause they are chill?”

“Yes. But mostly cause they are dead inside,” Tavvy chuckled.

Surprisingly that's exactly what my grade 6 prefect told me (DAMN WHY AM I ALWAYS REMEMBERING GRADE 6 IT'S BEEN YEARS. that was a horrible year *shudders*)

ANJALI IS A CENTURION

LMAO THIS IS WHAT RAFAEL MEANT WHEN HE SAID HE WOULDNT WANT TO GO TO THE SCHOLOMANCE FOR PERSONAL REASONS

I still ship them.

“The meeting is going to go perfe-What is SHE doing here?”

Well, that was a quick change-

Unlike Aunt Maia, Lily did not like to be called Aunt Lily. So, Rafael respected her wishes. Max of course continued to call her Aunt Lily and sometimes Abeula Lily since his brother had a pathological condition of pissing people off.

THAT'S SO MAX OMG JHSXUHSCUHISDHUHUKIDVS

great now I miss Raphael

I HAVE A CLASS IN 7 MINUTES STOP MAKING ME CRY

that is so thoughtful of him though...

tears.

“There are no photos of Raphael,” Lily sighed.

“Because he is a vampire?” Tavvy asked sympathetically.

“Because he is Raphael,” she grinned. “Vampires can most certainly take photos. You should follow me on Instagram. My handle is simp_for_carstairs.”

Of course, it is. No one is surprised.

Tavvy picked one up, took a large bite and it threw it back immediately. “Holy shit, that’s spicy!”

“White,” Lily and Anjali snorted at the same time.

white people and their bland foods smh

“She is not wrong,” Lily nodded seriously. “I’m a Jem Carstairs fan first and a vampire second.”

As she should be

UHDSUHDFSUHFDH ANJALI AND RAFAEL COMPETING ABOUT WHO'S LILY'S FAVORITE

He observed Anjali’s long dark hair spilled over her shoulders as her eyes stayed on Lily – sharp, protective and beautiful.

"Beautiful"

I AM NOT LETTING THIS GO

I'm THE DAMN CAPTAIN OF THIS SHIP

FUCKING RUMORS

I'm GONNA KILL SOMEONE

“Shadowhunters are awful gossips,” Anjali said. “Let’s not waste our time with this nonsense.”

There was something in her voice. Something he couldn’t put his finger on.

No, wait I want to know what was in her voice.

But no. It couldn’t be. They weren’t dating.

YET

Rafael was sure there was something more than friendship between them. But David was polite to a fault and Max was an oblivious little shit. So, obviously nothing had happened yet.

OH MY GOD THESE TWO

But this was different. He would tolerate rumours about himself. But he would not tolerate rumours about his family.

I and Rafael will beat up the people who spread these rumors together :D

“She once told me she likes sipping tea more than drinking blood.

I-

same.

NOT THAT I DRINK BLOOD-

RAFAEL LMAO NO

"I hate her she's so annoying"

continues to daydream about her and how tall she'd be without those boots, lies to tavvy about her dating someone

Why did he do that? What was the purpose? Did he not want other people to date just because he wasn’t dating anyone?

And he calls Max oblivious.

oh class started

shit

IDC IDC I'LL STILL BE READING

LEXI AND SELENA ARE AT THE ACADEMY

JACE HYPER FIXATING ON THINGS BECAUSE HE'S BORED IS SUCH A MOOD

“David and I added rosemary to this one,” Uncle Jace wiped his hands on his apron. “It has definitely improved the taste, hasn’t it?”

“Save me,” David mouthed from behind the man.

LMAO POOR DAVID

“Empty nest syndrome,” Rafael chuckled. “I’m glad neither Max nor I had to leave home. My fathers are much worse.”

He remembered his first sleepover at the institute. His parents had waited for “an excruciating hour” before crashing the institute and joining the sleepover themselves.

yup, that's them.

“David,” Rafael grinned. “Are you afraid of my father?”

“What? No! He is the just a regular person…who can throw me in the silent city any time he wants,” David rambled and then shook his head. “Where is Max?”

He tried to sound nonchalant. But Rafael noted the way the other boy’s eyes fluttered every time he said Max’s name.

Just the way a crooked smile appeared on his brother’s lips every time someone said David’s name.

Idiots

ok, there is so much to unpack here.

DAVID HAS A VALID REASON OK??

These two are such IDIOTS HUSDUHISCUIDSVCUIHVSDUHI

“Max said Bapak is biased, and that he needs an unbiased tutor. Uncle Ragnor volunteered,” Rafael chuckled. “God bless the poor man.”

“Max isn’t that bad,” David replied.

“Looks like you’re biased too, David,” Rafael winked and picked up a spare bow from the training room.

of course, he is.

G-FORCE KJHSDCUISDYUKDFSUYKDSVYUSFD

oh shit

oh shit

WHO DID WHAT THIS TIME

what's the rumor and who do I need to kill

He didn’t know her well. But she knew a lot about him. Just as she knew a lot about the twins. She was one of those people who was oddly invested in his life just because Rafael happened to the Consul’s son.

what is her problem?

what the fuck

I need a minute

I need a minute to digest that

I'm so glad I closed my camera in class

what the actual fuck did she just say

tell me I'm hallucinating

times like these I wish I was Jared 19

no, because I'm actually speechless right now

Paige and Irene need therapy

OH SHE WENT THERE

“Paige, that’s enough!” the Dean snapped at her. “How dare you talk to him that way? You talk about warlock corruption but where all of you when Valentine exploited Jace and Clary? Where was this moral obligation when Valentine lied to his children and played with their feelings as if they were nothing but toys to be controlled and manipulated? I’m sick of shadowhunters victim blaming children instead of holding people like Valentine accountable.”

THANK YOU

SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK SIMON

I feel like we all focus so much on the "incest" and hate on clace we forget that this part of the story was literally an abuser seeing that the victim was recovering and took the only thing which made him happy from him

I can't believe this

“Children have been suffering for a long time now, Paige,” Uncle Jace said now, his fists balled at his sides. “Where were you when Alec proposed the child protection bill? We didn’t see any of you supporting it.”

“We had other priorities,” the older woman replied. “People were dying! It was not the right time for a new law. We could have always signed that bill later. There was no rush!”

OTHER PRIORITIES MY ASS BITCH FUCK YOU

hey just realizing Rafael is the token straight

I'M SORRY IM TRYING TO DISTRACT ME

“The Cohort who made children kill themselves to prove a point?” Uncle Simon asked dryly. “That Cohort?”

I am so close to either crying or killing someone or both.

This was Max’s spot since it had the best Wi-Fi coverage.

yeah trust me I spend all the time in the guest room because it has the best wifi coverage or the study.

MAX IS SMOKING TOO

YOU FUCKING IDIOTS

oh wait

oh they might be alec's

yeah

For the next thirty minutes, Max paced around the room, threatening to portal all the shadowhunters to hell.

Then he went on about a plan to attack the cohort and portal them all to hell too.

He kept talking about portalling people to hell.

MAX YES LET'S DO IT!!!!

But here is the thing about people, they don’t get to you. You get to them.

They simply say something and leave. They probably don’t even mean the things they say or lose sleep over it. But it wasn’t the same for you. You obsess over it. You stay awake at night and let it consume your dreams.

YES! To others, it's just words. meaningless. to you, the effect can be so so deep. it's not easy to always brush them off.

NO MAGNUS

THAT'S IT

MAX AND I ARE PORTALLING PEOPLE TO HELL

WE'RE DOING IT

why do we hurt others?

my teacher: ill take a test on this chapter. all 20 units

me: softly crying because people are little shits and they hurt others.

“Fuck everyone else,” dad hissed. “They’ve hurt our family enough.”

EXACTLY. LEAVE THEM ALONE.

“I am simply being honest with you,” Dad interrupted. “I could never be okay when you are away from me. But I will manage. Max is going to raise hell though. So, that’s going to be fun.”

AS HE SHOULD

Neither Rafael nor Max would never admit it out loud, but on the day of that sleepover, on the day their parents had crashed the institute bcause they had missed the kids too much…Rafael and Max had been only a moment away from calling their parents to come pick them up.

He's right though.

it'll take time. lots of it maybe.

BUT THE ACTUAL AUDACITY.

It fucked with his mind so much.

Rafael...ALRIGHT WHERE ARE MY FLAMETHROWERS

“DAD! BAPA! WAKE UP! RAFE IS TRYING TO RUN AWAY!”

MAX REMINDS ME SO MUCH OF MY LITTLE BROTHER

He had forgotten about the bloody paperwork. Shadowhunters on their travel year had to notify the Clave and get their paperwork in order.

Well, it shouldn’t be a problem since the Clave was standing across the hall.

EXACTLY

Because it was killing him. It was killing him not to be lying on the couch, his head resting on his Bapak’s lap just like every other Saturday morning.

It was killing him not to touch, not to love, not to care.

GET MY FLAMETHROWERS AND CANNIBAL GOLDFISHES WE HAVE SOME WORK TO DO

(goddamn every class I have taken so far the teacher has told us there is a test coming up it's 9 am in the morning.)

His brother growled at that like the little feral animal that he was.

that's adorable actually.

“Fine,” Max rolled his eyes. “Does this mean I can also travel? There is a Twenty One Pilots concert in Sydney and-”

“Nice try,” Dad said. “But no. You are staying here.”

“Excuse me, but what about my healing?” Max demanded. “I’ve been traumatised by this thing.”

“You can go to therapy,” Rafael winked at this brother.

Therapy is boring but useful so-

He needed to survive this. So, he decided to go back to the place he had learned how to survive in the first place.

He needed to go back home.

UGLY CRYING WHILE TAYLOR SWIFT PLAYS IN THE BACKGROUND AND MY HISTORY CLASS IN 2 MINUTES

I'm so proud of him for this...

I still say we kill these people.

JOAQUIN AND JULIETTE

UHISDCUIHFSDUGUIDFVDSDVFJHGDFVHUKDVHUKVF

Camilla Alvarez.

well well.

OH THEY KISSED

“Right,” Rafael had said. “Gap year. Besides, I do talk them. My brother threatened to paint my room in hot pink if I don’t text him every day.”

hands max a pint of paint HAVE AT IT

Max: Also – New Rumour. Dalliance between Lily and Tavvy.

Rafe: OMFG WHAT

Max: They are running with it and freaking old n*philim out.

AS THEY SHOULD UFUHIFUIHFUIHKFU

THE CENSORED N*PHILIM I'M SCREAMING

“He is hot.”

He laughed out loud. “Yeah. I hear that a lot.”

“Your dad looks kinda scary,” she pointed out.

Rafael laughed again. “Yeah. I kinda hear that a lot too.”

I'm liking this ship...

I'M STILL LOYAL TO THE RAFAEL AND ANJALI SHIP

but I'm happy for him. I'm glad he's getting the space he needs

Dad: Jst found legal age fr drnkng in Buenos Aires is 18.

Rafe: ????

Dad: I hv friends thr.

Rafe: ???

Dad: Thy r watchn u.

Rafe: Creepy but okay.

HJSDCGUIHJGSDCYUICVXUHVUHKDV

THE BOY'S DRINKING Y'ALL

Do it

MILA IS GOING TO NY!!

I like her. she's nice.

He was leaving soon. He didn’t see the point in lying to her. “I ran away from home. Kind of.”

“Why?”

“I hurt someone I love,” Rafael confessed. “The person I love most in the world.”

honey, it wasn't your fault... hugs

Shit. Why wasn’t Bapak going to the accords signing? He had been there for every single one since the very first time.

no no no no is something wrong?? I'm worried.

“You look taller,” Rafael told his brother who hadn’t grown an inch.

LMAO

Max and I are vertically challenged.

“Rafe, go to talk to him. Or I will tell everyone you’ve been smoking in the balcony!”

So, he was going to pin this on him, huh? This little shit.

well-

“You’ve progressed from freaking to fucking,” he pointed out.

“That’s not the fucking point, Rafael!” Max said in exasperation.

“You did it again,” Rafe pinched Max’s cheek. “My little brother is all grown up now. Linguistically I mean.”

“Dick."

I CAN'T WITH THESE TWO

When he had gone back to Buenos Aires, the place was completely different - even the shadow market.

There were no abandoned children in the streets. There were no racist and ignorant leaders exploiting innocent downworlders.

There was only growth.

His father had done that. Alec Lightwood had helped Joaquin and his people create a new world in Buenos Aires.

This shows how much people can flourish under good leadership if they really try.

YOU KNOW I'M SUPPOSED TO BE TAKING THESE NOTES DOWN, NOT CRYING OVER THIS.

“I will protect our family. I will protect our friends. I will protect those who ask for my protection. But I will not tolerate their hate. I will not turn my head and pretend it doesn’t hurt. Because it does hurt and that’s not okay.”

Rafael smiled at that. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s not okay.”

“The accords is important. But so am I. There is no point in signing a treaty that is meant to value equality if I have to sign it while being surrounded by those who refuse to respect me or my identity. I simply cannot do it, Rafael. I hope you understand.”

I'm sobbing like YES YOU DONT OWE THEM SHIT. THESE UNGRATEFUL BITCHES.

“It’s taken me a while to realize this. But I don’t owe the nephilim anything,” Bapak said firmly. “It’s about time they realize that too.”

YES EXACTLY

“I’ve known shadowhunters for a long time, Rafael. Good ones. Bad ones. All kinds of them – and shadowhunters have always defined themselves by their love. Not by your weapons. Not by your runes. Not by your last names. Not by your laws. Shadowhunters have always defined themselves by love. So, don’t ever let them take that away from you.”

I want this on a T-shirt. These damn shadowhunters and their love.

“Like the Accords Hall kiss?” Rafael grinned.

“It’s the stupidest thing your father had ever done – which is really saying something,” his father laughed. “But it’s also the bravest thing I’ve ever seen him do. And that’s how I knew.”

affectionate sigh that's alec.

“Good. Max is sitting in the porch and singing All by Myself,” Tessa chuckled and closed the door. “Just thought you should know!!”

Rafael giggled at that. “He must have given you hell.”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Bapak shrugged, and Rafael raised an eyebrow. “Fine. I might have promised to buy him a car when he turns 18.”

“You’re hoping he would stop aging by then, aren’t you?” Rafael chuckled.

Max is so dramatic I aspire to be like him.

Blue banners when the lost return, the shadowhunter rhythm said.

Rafael had returned home – and he was no longer lost.

I'm ok I say as I cry during my history class

I'm so proud of him.

“Well, that needs to be rectified immediately,” Dad said in the Consul Voice and literally yelled. “I am about to kiss my son – on both cheeks! You better gossip about this too!”

“Oh my god, stop!” Rafael giggled and tried to escape.

“YAS!” he heard Uncle Jace yelled from somewhere. “GIVE US A FOREHEAD KISS TOO!”

THEY ARE SO DRAMATIC I LOVE THESE IDIOTS SO MUCH.

THEM ADDING TO THE ACCORDS AS THEY SHOULD OMG

“The hell is hate speech?” someone asked.

Do you not have a dictionary you uncultured swine

“There is a very clear difference between free speech and hate speech,” Cristina Rosales pointed out. “The fact that you don’t seem to know that is all the more reason for us to include this provision.”

YES CRISTINA

“By the angel,” an old man gasped. “There is no need to be so emotional. The younger generation can be such snowflakes.”

What if I just strangles him

“Discriminatory language?” a woman demanded. “What does that even mean?”

“Calling vampires bloodsuckers,” Lily Chen answered.

“Calling warlocks demon spawns,” Ragnor Fell pointed out.

“Calling werewolves fleabags,” Maia Roberts declared.

“Calling faeries half-breeds,” Kieran Kingson all but yelled.

The fact that they have had to deal with this shit for YEARS. (also why Kingson? isn't Kieran the king?)

THE QUEEN HERSELF IS HERE Y'ALL

“Which one of you shitheads said hate speech is harmless?” Anjali demanded, her voice booming over everyone and everything else.

YES ANJALI

Anjali had a grin of her own. “While that might true, Paige, there is most certainly a law on child protection. You didn’t just hurt Magnus Bane. You also hurt his son. Section 7 of the Child Protection Bill states that any person who physically or emotionally injures a child through ill-treatment, neglect, abandonment or abuse is guilty of breaking the covenant.”

“Damn straight!” someone yelled from the crowd – it sounded suspiciously like Kit.

CALL THESE BITCHES OUT YES

“Rafael is not a child!” someone yelled again. A lot of them this time. “It’s still not illegal. The law doesn’t say so!”

“By the angel, for someone who is obsessed with the law you people seem to know nothing about it,” Anjali said in exasperation. “The child protection law defines a child as a person under 18 years OR younger. The incident happened when he was still 18. It’s illegal.”

YES ANJALI FUCK THESE PEOPLE

“I’m the Inquisitor’s daughter,” she said. “Next time, think twice before you quote the law at me.”

SHOW THEM, QUEEN

How did she know his birthday????

ahem

“So, if you do hurt him emotionally, you can still be implicated. You will face charges and you can possibly be stripped of your runes,” Anjali pointed out seriously. “Now I ask you again. Does anyone else have to say anything about him?”

There was absolute silence then.

“Didn’t fucking think so,” Anjali spat. “I literally had to mention the stripping of your marks for you to respect another person’s basic rights. If you give half the value you place on your precious runes to other people, we wouldn’t be in exile right now.”

The Cohort looked terrified – of Anjali or their future in the Clave, Rafael didn’t know.

“People are dying,” Anjali said, her voice heavy now. “Our people are fucking dying, and you seem to be more bothered with who is sleeping with whom. Shame on you. Shame on all of you!”

She turned to the Council. The Inquisitor looked like he was going to cry from pride. Rafael’s dad looked half terrified but mostly impressed. Lily was blowing kisses at Anjali. The other downworld leaders looked quite pleased.

Shadowhunters are so fucking bigoted and narrow-minded. I'm seething right now.

also, alec looking scared-

“THAT’S THE BEST SHIT I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE!” Emma Carstairs yelled.

“Goddamn, I wish Magnus was here to see this,” Uncle Jace grinned. “That was satisfying as hell.”

“No worries, I recorded the whole thing!” Kit put up his hand.

YES YES AND YES

“Fuck the Cohort,” Rafael giggled.

“Actually, I would prefer you use the word screw,” his father pointed out. “Screw the Cohort!”

“Oh my god, Dad!” Rafael rolled his eyes. “I am allowed to swear once in a while.”

“No, you are not,” Dad said firmly – this man was so not ready to meet Max’s new persona. “As your friend pointed out, you are still a child.”

Alec seeing Max curse left and right: 👁️👄👁️

"She hates me!"

“Rafael, she stood up for you in front of the entire Clave. She fought the Cohort. It was incredibly brave. I wish she had spoken to me before without causing all the chaos. So, it was a little stupid of course. But still brave.”

Stupid but brave.

YESYESYESYES IT'S HAPPENING!!!

ANJALI WHO HURT YOU

WHO DARED TO

Names. Give me names NOW

Jaime no...please no not Jaime.

please please, please

ok, I searched it up. And he can get treatment. He can live. It doesn't have to be serious. please, Jaime...

“If you ever tell anyone you saw me crying, I will drag you to Idris and drown you in Lake Lyn.”

This is such an Anjali thing to say.

OOO MILLA (Mila?) MESSAGED!!! Is there gonna be some sort of love triangle here??

me who despises love triangles (aside from TID of course): ...

BUT SINCE IT'S YOU I'M SURE IT'LL BE AMAZING. I'm still nervous about this though...

UHCUHDVUKDVHUKVHUVHM I LOVED THIS CHAPTER SO SO SO SO MUCH IT WAS A LITERAL ROLLERCOASTER AND ANJALI QUEEN I LOVE

see ya on Friday!!

OKAY I AM LOVING THIS ENERGY BUT PLEASE FOCUS ON YOUR CLASSES FJKSDFHJKSJFHKD I PROMISE THE STORY IS GOING TO BE HERE WHEN YOU GET BACK LOL.

But I am so glad you like it. Amidst all your screaming and chaos, I always find very perceptive and profound observations. It's fantastic! I love it so much!

Thank you for enjoying LBAF - and good luck with your tests!!!

#lbaf

[dewykth]

SWEET SEPTEMBER.

a @periminkle​​​ and @dewykth​​​ collaboration.

synopsis. for many, september symbolizes new beginnings. but for namjoon, this month never fails to send him back into the past. though this time, something seems different.

pairing. kim namjoon | female reader contains. fluff, angst, slice of life au, ballet instructor!reader, single dad!nj  word count. 7.5k+  warnings. death mentions, mature audience

dae’s note. surprise !!! this fic is dedicated to my favourite virgo karla @guklvr​​​​ !! happy birthday bae i hope you enjoy this lil thing me n vira whipped up for u!! (i stress wrote a lot of this ha.) also sry for lying & keeping you up but hopefully this makes u forgive me. but i hope ur day goes amazing ILYSM DUDE !!! <333 and a huge thank you to vira for hopping on board for this idea bc i cld not have done this without her !!! pls give her all the love !!!

vira’s note. KARLAAAA!!! i always gotta scream ur name it’s mandatory to start with a good scream ykno? bUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRL 🥳  i already told u this too many times today but ILYSM !! like that full day without saying a single word to u felt so weird and i kept going into our chat and rereading our mssgs and wishing I was talking to u??? which is weird to admit?? but that literally how much i missed u idk how but im addicted to u so if you leave me I will literally die :))) aNYWAY have the bestestestest day ever and i hope u love the fic bc I ignored all my uni work to finish this !!! (also i feel reallyreallyreally bad about last night sO IM SORRY AGAIN BUT I HOPE THIS IS WORTH IT) 💖

Despite the papers carelessly stuffed into his leather briefcase, the dark coffee stain on his black slacks, and his unkempt locks resembling that of a bird’s nest, Namjoon’s become accustomed to the hectic nature of his mornings.

The kitchen table is practically buried under stacks of files, yet he brushes them aside to allow one corner of the glass surface to peek through. He plops the toddler in his arms onto a high chair before racing to the counter and sloppily pouring some honey nut cheerios into a small bowl, handing it off to his daughter. 

“Daddy?” her voice squeaks, a patient smile stretching across her lips. Her brown strands are tied up into pigtails at the crown of her head with pink ribbons that flutter with the movement of her tiny head. 

“Yes, angel?” He scurries around to their bedroom, peeling the stained fabric off his body and threading one leg through another pair of slacks fresh from the laundry. 

With Namjoon’s focus pinned on checking off the mental to-do list in his head, he misses the gentle, reassuring smile that stretches across her rosy lips. The adoration for her father is clear in her gaze. “You forgot to pour the milk.”

At the reminder, he squawks and hops back to the kitchen on one foot as he maneuvers his other leg through the pant hole. Swinging the fridge door open, he grabs the carton and sloppily pours the milk into her bowl—white droplets leaping out with their newfound freedom and forming perfect domes on the glass tabletop.

Cleaning the mess falls to the bottom of his priorities at the moment, and so he speeds off to the bathroom to ensure that his appearance is presentable for work while Dasom reaches over to pluck a tissue from the box, swiping the milky beads away before diving into her breakfast. She shoves as many cheerios into her small mouth as she can, rushing because she refuses to finish her meal in the car with their wild driver behind the wheel. 

Despite her mere four years of age, she knows from experience that a bowl of cereal and a shaky vehicle is a recipe for disaster.

Namjoon races over to his briefcase with most of his hair sleeked back, only the locks of his bangs hanging out to frame his forehead. As he slips his dark blazer on to complete his form-fitting suit, Dasom scoops the last few brown rings into her mouth and slurps the remainder of the liquid.

“Did you finish your milk?” he questions while cramming the edges of the loose leaves that peek past the seam of his briefcase, hurriedly zipping it up and turning to face her.

Dasom flips the edge of the bowl up to display its empty contents, gulping the last of her breakfast down her throat. As per routine, she scans her father for any inconsistencies in his attire, landing on his odd fitting bottoms.

“Daddy, your pants are on backwards.”

His eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, glancing down to affirm that the pockets at his sides are no longer at the front of his hips. Hastily, he shimmies out of his slacks once more and twists the fabric around to the proper orientation. 

Dasom hops off her chair, her bowl and wet kleenex in hand as she waddles over to the sink and waits for him to deposit the dirty dish into the sink and the sullied tissue into the trash. Although her short arms couldn’t reach over the countertop just yet, she’ll diligently drink every last drop of her milk in hopes of growing tall enough to take some of the load off of her father’s back.

He hoists Dasom up at the sight of the red car pulling up to the driveway, squeezing into the back seat. Namjoon doesn’t have to tell the driver to book it, as the calm man in front has learned to keep his foot pressed on the pedal. The car weaves through the morning traffic with concerning speed, snaking through the other vehicles littering the road as if they were no more than stationary pylons, simply there for practice.

Dasom remains on her father’s lap with his arms looped protectively around the seatbelt over her torso. She sinks into his embrace, fiddling around with his long, slender fingers as she watches the blurs of colour speeding past the window.

“Did you put your ballet shoes into your backpack, angel?” Namjoon loosens his grip on her, unhooking one hand to rummage through his own briefcase in order to confirm that he had indeed slid his laptop within the chaos inside. To keep her entertained, he playfully extends his digits out of her reach.

“Of course!” she chirps, a wide grin revealing the gaps between her teeth. The pads of her fingertips brush against his palm and tickle the sensitive skin there when she realizes that her arms lack the length required to latch onto his hand. “I can’t wait for class, we’ve got a new teacher coming in today!”

Humming absentmindedly, he sighs in relief at the sight of the silver device and packs the crumpled papers back in. “What happened to Ms. Kim?”

“She’s teaching the older class now.” The pout on her lips can be heard within the muffled lilt of her voice when she continues, “I asked her to stay until my birthday next week b-but she didn’t.”

Namjoon’s breath hitches at the reminder, but attempts to compose himself for his daughter’s sake. “It’s out of her control, angel, plus she’ll probably swing by anyway.”

His mind starts to fog up with the emotions he thought he buried last year–they swarm his every thought and nibble away at his sanity. He knows better than to believe that they would ever disappear. September will always be an insurmountable month for him.

“I might be a bit late to pick you up later, just sit tight and wait for Daddy, okay?”

She eagerly nods in response, noticing the dull red bricks of her school coming into view. “Okay, bye Daddy!”

Namjoon unlocks the seatbelt, wistfully watching his toddler bounce out of his arms and onto the asphalt below. No matter how many times he drops her off, it’s always difficult to be separated from her bright smile, but he reminds himself that it’s all for her; it makes things a little easier to bear.

“Have a good day at school.” He reciprocates her frantic waving through the window, craning his neck to watch her adorable form become smaller and smaller with the increased distance. Her full cheeks and crinkled eyes are engraved into the back of his mind.

Before long, Namjoon finds himself rushing into his office after an earful from his surly boss about everything from the late hour to the long list of meetings scheduled to all the work he’s got piled up. With his lips pursed and his head bowed, he somehow manages to make it past another lively morning.

Namjoon has a habit of overthinking. He figures it’s normal when you have a stressful job and a four year old full of energy to balance all by yourself. Not that overthinking about his daughter does him any good, because that is far from the reality. If anything, it just makes him, what you’d call, a bit... overprotective (over worrisome if you asked Jin). But it’s something he can’t really help. Even when she had just entered his life, so small and so blissfully unaware of the awful and evil things in the world, all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and shield her from it all as long as he could.

Though he’s very aware of the fact that it won’t be much longer, that won’t stop him from going over every single little thing that could go wrong in the meantime.

So, of course, when Namjoon’s asshole of a boss makes him stay two hours over his shift, all Namjoon can think about is Dasom. Is she okay? Has she eaten anything? Did she drink enough water today? She’s always dehydrated after her classes too. He usually calls Ms. Kim to check up on her, but his calls went straight to voicemail, which definitely wasn’t helping his hectic mind. Perhaps something had happened to her?

Oh god, maybe someone broke in and had injured Dasom?

The doors are thrown open, the sound of the doorknob hitting the wall reverberating through the room. The receptionist wearing her usual polka-dot dress jumps in her seat, eyes lifting from the intense scene on her phone to the entrance of the building. An unsure smile stretches across her ruby red lips at the familiar figure, though a bit disheveled and breathless. But before the customary ‘hello’ can even form on her tongue, the figure is rushing past her, leaving only a gust of air in his wake. The papers on her desk fall to the ground, and she sighs.

Namjoon is prepared to fight the (fictional) person who thinks breaking into a toddler ballet class is a good idea, but the scene in front of him once he pushes past the doors of the studio is one he is wholly unprepared for.

He sees Dasom first, and the relief that fills his body is indescribable. It’s far from the usual sight he’s greeted with when he picks her up late. She’s not sitting on one of the chairs in the far corner of the room. His heart doesn’t feel heavy, which comes with seeing his daughter so glum. This time it’s her laughter that greets him, not one provoked by him but by the figure standing in the middle of the room with her.

Dasom doesn’t seem to be aware of the presence of her dad yet, but the figure twirling her around turns, and her eyes land on Namjoon.

The reaction is immediate. The carefree smile that had been on your face slips off, a look of embarrassment and surprise overcoming your features. Namjoon only catches a glimpse, and somehow finds himself wishing that won’t be the last time he sees it. You let go of Dasom’s hand, quickly making your way to the stereo on the other side of the room. And that’s when-

“Daddy!”

Dasom wastes no time running into her father’s open arms, and Namjoon suddenly can’t remember why he was so worried in the first place. “Hi, angel.” he says, just loud enough for her to hear. She pulls back. “I’m so sorry for getting here so late. I promise i won’t do it again.”

But of course, Dasom holds nothing but forgiveness in her heart for her hard-working father. She does love teasing him, though. “Don't say sorry to me, say sorry to her.” she giggles, pointing behind her and Namjoon furrows his brow until he remembers they’re not the only ones in the room.

His eyes immediately move to where you stand awkwardly near the stereo, eyes moving around the room as if you hadn’t been watching the whole exchange. Namjoon sighs, realizing he definitely can’t avoid talking to you now. He stands straight, holding onto Dasom’s hand as he makes his way over to you. You only seem to grow more nervous as he nears, and Namjoon distantly recalls Jin telling him he came off as intimidating to most people. Something about his ‘beefy’ arms, in his own words. (“And that stupid and unfairly attractive face!”) He goes for a smile because it's not like he can control his physique.

“Hi, I’m so sorry about…”

Namjoon stops.

Maybe it was the overwhelming distress before, or the really shitty lighting of the studio, but he hadn’t realized how pretty you were before. But now he’s standing right in front of you and he can’t seem to form a coherent thought. Pretty can’t be the right word. He realizes how creepy he probably looks, running in here like a madman and then downright staring at the (very beautiful) woman who looked after his daughter? Not cool, man.

You clear your throat, before extending a hand to him. “Hi, I’m ____, the new ballet instructor.”

Your voice sounds just like honey.

Namjoon stares at your hand dumbly, before the sound of Dasom snickering (very discreetly) behind him snaps him out of it. But instead of introducing himself, or apologizing, or just taking your fucking hand, he says-

“What happened to Ms. Kim?”

He mentally face-palms.

Not. Cool. Man.

Your face falls, and Namjoon has never wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole more than he does now. “Uh, she’s instructing the teen class now.” you chuckle awkwardly, dropping your hand.

“Oh-”

“Daaaad,” Dasom's voice sounds annoyed, and perhaps it’s a bit silly of Namjoon to feel like he’s being scolded, but that is exactly how he feels right now. “I told you this. In the morning. Remember?”

He doesn’t. “Ah, right of course,” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck. It wasn’t like he meant to forget, he had just been too busy thinking about the other things every September would bring. “Sorry, I’m Kim Namjoon. Dasom’s dad.”

This time he offers his hand, and he thanks the skies above that you don’t seem to hate him because you fit your hand against his. Warm, like honey. How long had it been since he last made a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl?

Too long.

“I’m terribly sorry for arriving so late it’s just that my boss, who’s a huge-” Namjoon glances at Dasom, who is now in her own world, singing some song she learned in school, “jerk, decided to assign these reports last minute and the printer would just not work and then traffic hour-”

Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, but Namjoon can see the amusement bubbling in your eyes. He flushes a deep red, eyes falling to the floor, realizing he started ranting.

“It’s okay. Really.”

When he looks back up, there’s a smile on your face. Not like the one before, this one was more reserved, but genuine, reassuring. And just like that, he’s sure you don’t hate him.

Namjoon’s not sure he likes this feeling though.

“Straighten your arms out, girls!” you belt over the classical music that floods the studio’s walls, scanning your army of toddlers in tutus whose arms immediately tense at your command. Making your way through the row, you poke and prod everywhere from their shoulders to their ankles. “Arch your back more, Somin.”

Their muscles violently tremble in response to the strenuous routine you’ve introduced, facial features scrunched in concentration and a resolute will to uphold their positions despite the hyperextension of their limbs. A mix of pity and pride swells in your chest at their effort. “Keep your chins up, the annual recital is only a couple of days away.”

Cheers erupt throughout the small room, disrupting the focus and spoiling their perfect form, yet you refuse to quiet excitement because of the renewed vigour buzzing throughout the room. The next hour depletes all of their built-up energy with demi-piles, pirouettes and sautés.

A glance at the analog clock in the corner informs you of the five minutes remaining before the end of class, so you pause the speakers and instruct the girls to stretch themselves out as they wait for their guardians to trickle in. They collectively sigh in relief before dropping to the floor like flies.

You snort at their dramatics with an amused smile playing at your lips. “I said to stretch, not to lay down and nap.”

“Can’t we nap and stretch at the same time?”

Strolling over to the source of the voice, you cluck your tongue at her limp form sprawled across the wooden floor and cross your arms, struggling to keep your giggles from breaking your angered facade. “And how do you suppose we do that, little Miss Dasom?”

She flashes her toothless grin up at you. “Like this!” With one leg bent over the other and her hands looping around to hold her twisted limbs to her torso, she shuts her eyes and exaggerates her snores.

At this point, it’s nearly impossible to withhold your snickers, and the rest of the class joins in your laughter. You pick up on Dasom’s tinkling giggles between each of her heavy breaths. The lighthearted jokes continue as kids are signed out with bright grins on each of their faces.

You wait for the rest of the toddlers to file out one by one, waving goodbye and checking them off your list until, as usual, Dasom is the only toddler left. Her tiny feet still clad in her faded ballet shoes waddle up to you, tugging on your blouse.

“Your pirouette was a bit wobbly today, do you want to go over—”

“‘M tired,” she interrupts, slouching her shoulders with an adorable frown marring her lips. Her exhaustion is justified, since the routine is rather exhausting, and with their recital right around the corner, you worked them to the bone today.

The odd timing of the switch between you and Ms. Kim left you with a little under a week to tweak and perfect their current choreography. A sloppy routine is not the way you want to present your skills to their parents for the first time, thus you were stricter with the kids than normal.

Your sympathy wins out, and so you gather Dasom’s lithe figure into your arms as you head to the closest wall. With your back supported, you spread out your legs and place her in your lap.

“My birthday is this Thursday.”

“Mhm,” you hum, bobbing your head to signal for her to continue her train of thought.

Her back faces you, but when her head tips down to stare at her hands, you know she’s contemplating her words carefully. Rather than encouraging her to speak freely, you wait for her to feel comfortable enough to reveal her thoughts; and surely enough, her shell cracks open just enough for you to peep through. “Do you wanna come?”

“I would be honoured.” A giddy smile splits across your lips. “Is Daddy picking you up again today?”

She flips around in your hold, wrapping her arms around your waist and snuggling her head to your chest. Her words are muffled into the fabric of your thin shirt, but her tone indicates her affirmation.

Suddenly self-conscious of your heartbeat—that Dasom can definitely hear with her ear pressed up against you—picking up pace at the mention of her father, you suppress your thoughts with a guilty conscience. You internally chide yourself for harbouring feelings for the charming, taken, man, defying arguably one of the most important fundamental rules of becoming an instructor.

Do not develop silly crushes on your student’s parents.

“Ms. ____?” her faint question snaps you out of your reverie, attention brought back to the present moment. While preoccupied, your hand took on a mind of its own, gingerly patting the space between the little girl’s shoulder blades at a slow rhythm.

She gazes up at you when you halt your rhythmic movements, sharp eyes boring into yours. “Are you gonna ask Daddy to come see me dance?”

The edges of your lips flip up in what you hope to be an encouraging smile as you nod your head. Subconsciously, you begin to stress over another encounter with Namjoon, formulating a script to hopefully avoid the stiff, tense atmosphere that lingered throughout all your previous interactions.

“Daddy’s always really busy,” she slurs, drowsiness coating her words and weighing down on her lids. Grumbling under her breath about her numb legs, Dasom crawls onto the floor beside you with her head resting on your thigh. “He’s always working hard for me.”

Your eyes soften at the fetal position she’s taken up on the ground; not only was Dasom lucky to have such a dedicated father, but Namjoon was also blessed with a caring daughter. “You don’t think he can make it?”

“It’s okay,” she whispers and you have to crane your ears to listen. You stroke the strands littering her forehead, gingerly caressing the crown of her head. “It’s okay if Daddy can’t come. I know him, he’s trying to do it all because Mommy’s not with us anymore, but it’s okay. I still love him even if I can’t see him lots.”

A knot forms between your eyebrows, a bittersweet ache forming within the creases of your heart. The painful constriction of your chest ebbs and flows with your shallow breaths that can’t seem to make it past your throat. You bite your lip to subdue the plentiful liquid gathering at your waterline.

No more than a croak escapes your lips before the door to the studio flies open, meeting the adjacent wall with a bang!

“I’m so sorry, my meeting ran late and I couldn’t—” the rest of his speech gets stuck in his windpipe at the sight of you, eyes rimmed red and sniffling, with Dasom, ostensibly dead asleep, on your thigh. “Did she…?”

You blink away your incoming tears, although your dignity has been completely thrown out the window, seeing as he believes that his four-year-old kid made a grown woman, who just so happens to be her ballet teacher, bawl her eyes out.

As you go to gently shake Dasom awake, she sluggishly lifts her head off of your lap and starts to scale your torso like a koala on a tree. Your confusion is vocalized through the high-pitched hum in your throat, but your efforts to pry off her limbs, tightly wound around the small of your waist, are futile.

“Uh, Dasom? It’s time to go home now, angel.” Despite his firm words, Namjoon’s tone is unsure and shaky; he can feel cold sweat build up in the lines of his palms. He knows his daughter, and she can be periodically stubborn and insistent the way children are at her age, thus even as you come to stand, she’s stuck to you like glue. “Would you, uh, did you need a ride?”

You mimic the sheepish smile on his face, hoping the flaming blush you feel on your cheeks isn’t as visible as it seems. “Sure.”

With Dasom latched onto you, both of you make your way to the red car outside after you lock up the studio. Namjoon courteously opens the car door for you, what with your arms supporting his clingy toddler; although, with the brute force he uses, you worry for the state of the hinges. Thankfully, they stay intact and he’s able to slip into the backseat after you.

Before an awkward silence can settle, you clear your throat and prepare to ask him about his day, but you’re interjected by Namjoon’s sudden stammering, “D-driving’s such a hassle for me so Jin drives us everywhere. Jin knows how to drive though, so, don’t worry.” He finishes with a deep chuckle that dies off nearly as quickly as it began. Oh, that’s unexpected.

“You don’t to drive yourself?” Rather than being processed in your brain and logically thought through, the question immediately enters your mouth without any prior scanning for dumbass-content. You instantly regret it, feeling as though it’s much too invasive. “You don’t have to answer that, I—”

The hearty laughter that meets your ears is “No, I do. Sometimes. But its easier raising this one like this.” His tone turns sweet at the mention of Dasom as he reaches over to pat her head, and you’re overcome with an intense desire to prod more into his personal life. Why does he have to work so much? Which shirt in his closet is his favourite? How does he like his eggs in the morning?

“I’m not sure if you already knew about the annual recital on Saturday, but Dasom’s been practicing really hard for weeks and the kids are all really talented, so it would definitely be worth your time...”

As he’s gazing at his daughter, galaxies of devotion and longing swirl within his cocoa irises. The cool light of the moon shines through the windows of the car, illuminating his sharp jawline and strong brows. You’re absolutely mesmerized by the sight in front of you. “You must be really busy, huh?”

“More than I’d like to be.”

You rip your entranced gaze away from Namjoon, willing yourself to steady your frantic breaths.

The remainder of the ride still drips with awkward tension, although with a definite lighter tone than before. Jin pulls up to your apartment with your direction and you dislodge a sleepy Dasom from your torso, which is much easier now that her limbs have gone slack with sleep. Handing her off to Namjoon, who practically engulfs her tiny form with his broad chest, you rush out of the vehicle with a quick, “See you!”

You slam the door closed before he can say anything, racing into the comfort of your home with your heart in your throat.

The last thing you had expected to do on a Thursday evening was to go to a birthday dinner. Thursdays are your days off, your in-days. The ones you spend lounging on your couch with a face mask and some wine. And yet, here you are.

When you received a text this morning, the last person you had expected it to be was Namjoon. Much less Namjoon asking you to come over for Dasom’s birthday. You weren’t going to say yes, hell, you had thought of downright ignoring it. It was weird, wasn’t it? But Dasom had quickly carved a toddler-shaped hole into your heart. Truly, you had said yes before the message was even typed out.

And so now you stare at the tall apartment building in front of you, definitely feeling more nervous than before. You knew that Namjoon had to be well-off to afford a weekday chauffeur, but damn did you not expect him to be this well-off.

It seemed today was the day to expect absolutely anything.

You enter the opulent building, signing in at the front desk before entering the large, mirrored elevator. The beating of your heart picks up the more floors you pass, and you can’t help but fidget with your appearance. Namjoon had said it would only be you three, which you guessed was supposed to calm your nerves but really, it did anything but that. The mere thought of eating dinner with Namjoon was nerve-wracking. But now you were about to eat dinner and enter his home; you had no fucking clue what you were getting yourself into.

The doors slide open, and you step into the hallway. A single door could be seen at the end of the hallway, so you quickly make your way over. You stop right in front, taking a deep breath in before pushing the doorbell. A beat, a crash, another beat, then-

The door swings open, and your breath catches in your throat.

Namjoon looks heavenly as always, but seeing him in clothes other than his usual black slacks makes your heart do a cartwheel. God, this is dangerous.

“Ms. ____!”

Before Namjoon can form a hello, Dasom is running past him and wrapping her small arms around your legs. “You came! See daddy! I told you she’d come.” her tongue pokes out of her mouth, aimed straight at her father and you stifle a laugh.

“Did he think I wouldn’t?” you ask, eyebrow arched as you glance at Namjoon, who seems to have a permanent pink hue on his face.

“He said you wouldn’t!”

“Oh, really? What else did he say?”

“He said I had to help him clean either way!”

“Alright, Dasom. That’s enough.” He says firmly, clearing his throat and trying to act as unaffected as possible. His eyes shift to meet yours. “Why don’t you come inside?”

As much as this day really sucked for Namjoon, today had been… different. Not all too much. Of course, getting up was the hardest part, but he had decided to make Dasom her favourite breakfast meal instead of her usual cereal. He had also made sure to get her all the toys she had been wanting, and planned their day out to do Dasom’s favourite things. Namjoon just wanted this day to be special for her. That was all he cared about.

But when Dasom had asked him to invite you, he had hesitated.

Dasom had never spent her birthdays with anyone else but Namjoon. Not that it was intentional, but Namjoon liked to have this day just for the both of them. Because that’s how it’s always been. He didn’t know what it was about you that made his daughter talk about you all the time. Or why she wanted to spend a birthday with you. But how could he deny her? And so, the text was sent.

And now, as Namjoon puts away the dishes while you sit on his couch, he realizes he hadn’t thought of her today. Not as much as the years before. Dinner had been so... nice. It felt nice to have someone else around. Namjoon loves Dasom, but he hadn’t realized how distant he had gotten from everything that had once seemed to be the centre of his life.

Namjoon closes the dishwasher, exiting the kitchen and making his way to the living room. He places the two glasses on the table before pouring the dark red liquid.

“I hope you like Merlot.”

“Oh, please. Anything’s fine.”

You take the wine glass, sending him a thank you before taking a drink. “So,” you lean back, “remind me how to play this again.”

“Ms.____ I told you. You have to take a block without knocking the tower over,” Dasom shows you by pushing a middle wooden block out, “then you have to place it on top, like this.'' She places the same block on top of the tower.

“Ah, right! I just need to make sure if I want to win.”

“You can’t! I’m the best!”

“Oh really? And what about you?” you turn, brow raised and eyes playful.

“Pshh,” he scoffs, leaning forward. “Who do you think she takes after?”

He doesn’t think he’s ever lost a game so quickly.

Namjoon watches as you close Dasom’s door quietly from the hallway before you make your way back to the family room. “She’s out like a light. I guess all that tower building got to her.”

Namjoon snorts. He feels oddly disappointed as he watches you gather your things to go. Was it weird that he wanted you to stay? “Do you need me to get you a ride? I can call Jin to drive you home.”

“No, it’s fine! Really! I already ordered an Uber anyway.” You grab your coat near the door. Before Namjoon can unlock the door, you touch his shoulder. “Listen, thank you for inviting me today. I know you probably wanted to spend this day together instead, but I... “ you inhale, because you aren’t sure of what you want to actually say “thank you.”

Would it be weird to say how much better you made today? Probably. “You don’t… have to thank me. I think I should be the one doing the thanking. I really wanted this day to be special for Dasom and you… you definitely helped. So, thank you.”

The door opens, and the light of the hallway fills his dim flat. “Guess we’re even then.” you smile before turning, making your way to the elevator. Namjoon shuts the door once the sight of you is gone, but the smile on his face remains

“Guess we are.” he whispers wistfully

Perhaps stopping at a flower vendor when you’re already running late was a bad idea, but Namjoon wasn’t thinking about time. He had seen the bouquet of flowers and imagined the huge smile that would stretch across Dasom’s face, and that was all he needed to swerve into the left lane.

Now, though, as he anxiously watches the cars in front of him move a foot forward after thirty minutes, he’s sure he should have just left the fucking flowers alone.

Namjoon doesn’t know how long he’s been shifting his eyes from the traffic to the watch ticking around his wrist, but by a miracle, the cars start moving. Slowly, then he’s speeding down the highway, praying to the skies above he’ll make it in time. Even if he arrives in the midst of the dance, he can’t miss this recital. He won’t.

He sighs in relief when he sees the familiar glass building, though it’s cut short when he sees the parking lot. No available place in sight. Fuck. Namjoon is sure he looks insane right now, swerving around the parking lot in search for an empty spot, or really just any fucking spot that looks like it could fit his monster of a car.

Then the clouds seem to open up, and right near the entrance is a vacant spot. Namjoon swears his mouth almost waters at the sight. Quickly speeding around the lot, he parks, but not before flipping off the angry parent who tries to beat him to it. Namjoon exits his car, quickly grabbing his coat and the large bouquets of flowers from the backseat. He runs to the entrance, practically throwing the shriveled paper at the ticket clerk.

Namjoon slows as he nears the theatre doors, taking a deep breath before calmly opening it. He had completely forgotten to book seats in advance, so he’s not surprised to see the velvet seats filled to the brim. When he looks to the stage, he’s relieved to see that there’s still time until Dasom comes on.

Now, Namjoon knows he’s not the most… balanced person. It’s common knowledge that he trips over his feet and knocks things over sometimes. (Oh, but definitely more than the average person.) Now, if you were to ask Namjoon if he pays attention to his surroundings, he'd say yes.

But if you were to ask Namjoon what he tripped over, he wouldn’t know. It doesn’t matter, because now there’s a furious mother with a horrendous bob cut glaring at him, and what he thinks to be a broken camcorder on the floor. The only thing he can manage is an awkward smile and an even more awkward apology. Namjoon offers to give her the cost for repairs, hell, even offers to buy her a new one. The woman snatches the bills from his hands but she doesn’t go back to minding her business like he thought she would. No, instead she starts to argue with him, in the middle of her child’s recital, no less!

Namjoon can’t do anything but stare at her as she blabbers on about how horrible he is for throwing her camcorder on the floor. (Not like it had much life left, that thing looked like it was from 2007.) She’s damn near spitting on his face, and causing other parents to turn around and glare at them. As if it was his fault. Who knew she had such an attachment to the damn thing!

A hand lands on his shoulder, and for a second he’s sure it’s security ready to escort him out of the building. But when he turns, he’s surprised to see it’s you. Like an angel had ascended from the clouds to save Namjoon from the wrath of a ballet mom. And just like that, you’re leading him away, taking a seat two rows before the stage. Namjoon’s eyes widen at the sight of the empty seat beside you.

It’s that feeling again, and Namjoon’s palms start to get sweaty as he takes a seat. “Jesus, thank you for that,” he whispers, relishing your quiet laughter that follows.

“Of course. She was probably a blink away from going full-blown Karen on you.” you tease.

“Oh, and that wasn’t?”

“Oh, Joon, you haven’t seen how angry ballet moms can get.” you both laugh, huddled together as if you’re sharing a special secret. It seems so natural. As if this is where he’s supposed to be. So much that Namjoon almost doesn’t catch the nickname, but how could he miss it when you say it just like she used to?

The stage lights darken, and Namjoon is grateful for the excuse to look elsewhere. He’s sure if he would have stared at you for just a bit longer, he would have done something completely and utterly stupid. “This is her.” you whisper, and Namjoon buries the thought away.

A blue hue shines across the stage before the soft melody begins to play, filling the room with the sounds of strings and keys. One by one, tiny swans begin to come into view, prancing around the stage. Namjoon catches sight of Dasom, looking adorable in her white tutu and he can’t help the proud smile that makes its way onto his face. He watches with adoration as she does her pirouettes, and maybe there’s some water overflowing in his eyes as they finish their dance, bowing towards the audience.

You both stand, clapping and cheering the loudest, uncaring of the stares from the snobby rich parents because you’re both too damn proud of Dasom to care. For a moment, Namjoon pretends that it’s different, simpler. That it’s not only his child on stage but yours. Ours. He thinks he likes the sound of that too much.

Once the show ends, you lead Namjoon backstage where the buzz of dozens of girls talking fills the air. You tell him that you need to check in on the other kids and disappear through a hallway. He spots Dasom quickly, or rather, she spots him.

“Daddy! You came!”

Namjoon lifts Dasom with his free arm, twirling her around before placing a big kiss on her forehead. Her giggles fill him with delight, and he doesn’t care that his cheeks hurt from how hard he’s been smiling. “Of course I came, angel. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He places her on the ground before he grabs the bouquet of sunflowers from his other arm. The sight of her favourite flower makes Dasom jump with joy. She takes the flowers, and Namjoon silently coos at how much smaller they make her look. Then she spots the other bouquet of flowers in his arm. She scrunches her brows together, about to ask who those are for before her eyes catch something behind Namjoon.

“Ms. ____!”

“Dasom!”

Dasom jumps into your arms, and you laugh at her enthusiasm. “You did so well! I’m so proud of that pirouette!” You twirl her around once her feet hit the ground, smiling as you watch her stumble slightly. Namjoon can’t help but smile too.

“Look what daddy got me, Ms. ____! Look!” Dasom lifts the flowers up, almost shoving them into your face.

“Wow, these are very beautiful, Dasom!”

“Look! He got you some too!” she giggles, and you look at her confusedly then at Namjoon. He sighs, looking pointedly at Dasom despite the cherry hue making its way across his cheeks. She giggles once again before running to her friends. “Dasom!” but it's futile.

If it weren’t for the consistent chatter, Namjoon’s sure there would be an agonizing silence to fill the space between you. You walk closer to him, looking down at your shoes bashfully. “Ah, these-” he takes the bouquet from his arm, “these are for you.”

You looked surprised to say the least. Eyes wide and glassy, your mouth falling ajar. “Wow, uh, really?” you ask, glancing up from the bouquet. He nods shyly.

Listen, he had only planned to buy Dasom her favourite flowers. But then he caught sight of these beautiful yellow roses, tips painted a light amber orange. Somehow they reminded him of you. And the way you had left him with his heart feeling lighter for the first time in years the other night. Maybe it was a way of saying thank you. He’ll admit, he didn’t think it all the way through, but the way you’re smiling at him right now makes him think it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

There’s a moment where it seems to just be you and him, despite the tons of parents and children running around. He’s only focused on you, and the way your eyes drop to his lips, if only for a millisecond. Namjoon wants to say it. God, he wants to say it so badly. “Listen I… I’ve been meaning to ask you,” his voice fades away as his eyes catch yours. Hopeful. Beautiful. Glimmering.

Just like hers.

“Do you, uh, need a ride home?”

And the bubble bursts.

You step away, looking at anything but him and he hates it. He despises it. He wants you to look at him like that again. He wants nothing more than to pull you back and kiss you senselessly, like his mind is screaming for him to do. But he can’t. He can’t do it for some fucking reason and he almost wants to cry in frustration because why can’t this just be easier? Why is it so hard to move on? You don’t deserve this. You deserve so much better than what he can offer you. And that thought keeps him still.

“Uh, sure.”

Quiet.

Say something, idiot! Tell her what you’ve been dying to say! Just fucking say it!

Namjoon hates himself for the next words that tumble out of his mouth.

“Let’s find Dasom.”

The drive to your house is just like it was before, except this time there’s no chatter to fill the emptiness. Dasom is sound asleep in the backseat. You've never seemed more distant than now, facing the window, body pressed against the door. You had almost begged to go in the back with Dasom, and Namjoon doesn’t know why he didn’t just let you.

How did it come to this? This wasn’t what he wanted. This night wasn’t supposed to go like this. Everything should have gone differently.

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever fix this. If things will go back to normal. If he completely ruined it. But he’s too afraid to ask. Too afraid to know.

Namjoon has never hated the quiet more.

The sight of your apartment complex fills him with dread. All he can think about is all he wants to say, all he should have said, all he wants to take back. God, Namjoon wishes he could take it back. If only there was a way to turn back the time. Why had he been so afraid to make a move? Why did it hurt so much? But he knows going back wouldn’t help. Not when he doesn’t know if he would have done it differently.

His car comes to a stop, and the doors unlock. He faintly catches the small thank you before the passenger door slams shut. Namjoon watches as you make your way up the pathway, feet moving briskly and it feels like he’s watching you walk away from him.

You’re shuffling through your bag, looking for your key. And fuck, is he really just going to this go?  Is he that stubborn that he can’t see past himself? He can’t. He can’t let you go. Not like this.

Well do something, dumbass!

The door of his car is thrown open, and before he can overthink it-

“____!”

You still. You turn.

Namjoon shuts the door. He walks up the steps and stops a few feet away from you, but he feels like he’s miles away. You look up at him, questioning. Your eyes aren’t the same ones. Not like you looked at him before. Yet they’re still warm. Inviting. Namjoon is tongue-tied, and all those words he wanted to say are gone now.

“Are we… good?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I just…” he scratches the back of his neck. “That moment back at the recital. I… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” you say, simply. When he looks at you, he can’t tell what you’re feeling. You’ve blocked him off. “Namjoon, really. It’s fine.”

But is it really? He wants to ask. But he doesn’t. It’s quiet again, this time the sound of the wind rustling the browning leaves above filling the space. Still.

“I… god, I don’t know why this is so hard. Ever since, you know,” you don’t. “I… I didn’t think I'd ever get an opportunity to…” he inhales, unsure of what he wants to say first.

“I just feel like I ruined it so carelessly.”

You don’t say anything for a few moments. You only stare at him, really stare at him. Like you can see through his mirage, through the walls he’s spent so long building up. You’re taking it all, but there’s nothing he can take back from you.

“You didn’t.” you whisper it so quietly, Namjoon would have thought his mind had taken pity on him. But a smile slips onto your face. Unlike the other ones. It doesn’t fill him with joy. It doesn’t give him butterflies. This one hurts.

And he knows you’re telling the truth.

“This… It might take a while.”

The wind picks up. The leaves rustle. The cold, biting.

“That’s ok. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Your lips are bittersweet on his tongue.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN TO KARLA !! ILYYYY <3

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