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#there is something helpful about shouting into the void sometimes i guess...like things become more real when i do...
justratbrainsoup · 6 days
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yapping bc why not? 🤷🏾‍♀️
(warning: me talking about anything and everything because I want to shout into the void) ((to be kind, i will number every "coherent" thought and add a keep reading))
(trigger warning: mention of anxiety, mention of depression, maladaptive coping (drinking), mention of alcohol consumption, mention of alcoholism)
lots of words below the cut
the negative stuff (bc this is what caused this post) :
i hate asking for things (whether it be help or for someone to do something) because i think the worst will happen (them saying no or being like "oh my god why would you ask me to do that") so when people DO say the 'worst' it makes me spiral immediately (important context: i have anxiety (and depression, but we'll circle back to that) that has plagued me for like 11 years now)
speaking of my anxiety, it is mostly social anxiety at times, but it fucks up most of my life. i have such a hard time talking to new people sometimes. recently (like 2-ish years ago), i learned that that anxiety extends to interacting with people on social media (mostly comments/meaningful retweets/ meaningful reblogs). i've gotten a bit better about it, i occasionally will comment on a tiktok, but even then it's like pulling teeth. i would love to reblog stuff from my favorite writers on here, but i just can't, you know?
sometimes to deal with 'feeling bad' (being depressed) i'll drink just to attempt to feel better. (i'm majoring in psychology. i know that it'll only make it worse and it won't help. i still do it because i just don't care sometimes i guess.) it's truly one of my biggest flaws because i am quite literally genetically predisposed to becoming an alcoholic (shout out to my dad's side of the family and my actual dad!). also becoming an alcoholic has been a fear of mine ever since i knew what being an alcoholic was.
the positive stuff (bc not everything in this life is bad) :
i got into the grad program i wanted! there is a slight caveat: i kinda had a shoe in because it's the same school I'm currently attending for undergrad and my school is medium-sized so i know like 3/4ths of the faculty (not personally, but they know my name and the stuff that I've done /pos). i still had to do the whole personal statement, letters of recommendation, and interview thing so, it wasn't super easy. but hey, i'm gonna be studying what i want for 2 years! :)
i applied for a job (just 1 year and aimed at newly graduated students) and got set up for an interview!
i'm one day closer to graduating. (about a month and 2 weeks until that day though)
i'm getting another tattoo as an early birthday gift to myself in May. this'll be my first one since November. sweet little baby number 7!! (i'm more excited about this than graduating or my actual birthday)
my older brother (with a big boy job and real people money) got us tickets to see Megan Thee Stallion in May! this will be my FIFTH ever concert ever (these are the first 4 even though no one asked: ((actually no one asked for this post in general, but whatever)) 1. Justin Beiber in 2009 2. Panic! At The Disco in 2017 3. Twenty One Pilots in 2017 (((i don't even listen to those three anymore lmao))) 4. Beyonce in 2023)
was this all too much information to disclose to the void (strangers on the internet)?? possibly, but the satisfaction i got from getting it out has greatly outweighed it.
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stirdrawsandreblaws · 4 years
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I am getting absolutely nothing done that I need to so it's time to give up I guess
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shadowsingersmate · 3 years
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Angst azriel x reader request
i just thought, what if the one mate could feel it when the other would cheat on them? azriel cheating on y/n and she doesn't tell him that she knows, she keeps it to herself until one day she's had enough because she over hears him telling someone in the ic that he loves y/n and would never hurt her and they start to fight. she tells him the truth and she just leaves him all togehter. overtime az tries to talk to y/n but she doesn't budge they end up not getting back together and stuff if you wanna change some things thats fine
Okey I’ve been vv inactive but it’s because I’m just not okey but I LIVED THIS IDEA so here we go.
Also I have about three or four requests draft that I gave up in the middle so I’ll try to finish those as well .
I didn’t proof read so…. Yeah I hope you like it :)
The black blanket had fallen over the sky signing the arrival of the night.
You were sitting on the couch, reading a romance book that nesta had recommended you couple of days ago, it was alright you guessed. It was particularly hard to concentrate to the main characters love life as yours was already falling apart.
Azriel hadn’t been at home a lot lately. He had a lot of work and you knew, you could understand but it was all too much. You had missed his touch, his company, the endless talks that you two would have at the nights were you both couldn’t sleep.
You close the book as you sighted and went over the kitchen to make some tea, maybe that would help calm you a bit, maybe that would help to get your sleeping schedule back to normal. You had gotten used to Azriel holding you that you found it hard to sleep when he wasn’t there.
Once the tea was brewed you went into your bedroom and sat on the bed, admiring the view from the window, the stars were beautiful! You smiled as you remembered how Azriel would take you out on late night dates, just you two staring at the night sky.
It hadn’t been long before you fell asleep, the sleeping tea madja had recommended was truly doing wonders when it came to sleep diprivation.
-
Azriel’s scarred hands were grazing her naked body as his lips found hers. The passion was clear, both of them fighting for dominance, their sent of arousal filled the air making you gag.
“Azriel…” you choked but he didn’t listen, he didn’t even spare you a glance.
You felt his emotion, the longing, the want, the lust. You felt everything. You shook your head taking small steps back as tears escaped freely. You could hear their moans, you could see everything.
“Azriel!!!” You shouted again and closed your eyes, but when you opened them again you weren’t in the room were Azriel and the girl had been but your own shared bedroom. You were sweating, weeping.
A dream you realized but them you felt a wave of pleasure running through your body and then another. You felt longing and want but no, those weren’t your feeling they were azriels.
It wasn’t a dream it was a moment, a moment of azriels long nights working. He had lied, he was cheating on you.
You just stayed there frozen, waiting for the emotions to stop and they did, then you felt his regret and you closed the bond shut forming a thick brick wall between your and his mind.
You rushed to the bathroom, you knew Azriel was coming home, he would be there in a couple of minuite sand you weren’t ready to face him.
You cried and cried trying to remember anything you had done that led to this moment.
You couldn’t really blame him, the girl was beatiful, blonde hair and blue eyes eyes, her breasts were much fuller than yours and her curves were perfect, unlike you, you looked like a child compared to her.
It was your fault, you should have taken better care of yourself maybe then Azriel wouldn’t feel the need to seek something more mature, someone better.
You heard the door click from downstairs and hurriedly you wiped your cheeks and stalked over the bed.
“What are you doing awake love?” love? Seriously?
“Good, how was work?” You asked
You expected from him to look regretful or maybe tell you the truth, but he didn’t instead he said a quiet “fine” and went to the bathroom to get ready for the night.
Once he laid on your bed you had seriously contemplated to tell him, yo let him know that you knew what he had done but you decided that it would be bette rig you just stayed quiet.
-
Months had past with you being silent. Everyday he would come home and you expected him to break and reveal the truth but he didn’t.
Meanwhile you felt anger building up, you felt like you were suffocating. You no longer trusted him, you found yourself thinking thrice before you believe anything he said.
He was taking you on more dates than before and he was being at home for longer which made things harder.
You tried to better yourself by working out longer hours and eating healthier, you no longer felt comfortable with him seeing you without make up.
Azriel had realized obviously and you knew, that was something. Maybe now you could be enough for him.
It wasn’t until a couple of weeks when you were passing rhysands office when you heard the three brothers talking.
“I don’t know what’s happening to her, she barely even let me see her in the morning” Azriel exclaimed “she doesn’t even touch sugar, you all know how much she used to live sweets”
“Have you tried to talk to her?” Rhysand asked.
“Yeah, I’ve tried once or twice but she just change the conversation completely, I don’t know what going on” Azriel said worriedly “I’m trying to think of anything I may have done to hurt her but I would never do anything that would cause her the littlest bit of pain you know that right?”
You laughed out loud and the males stopped talking, after a few minutes cassian opened the door and his eyes softened at your presence.
“Y/n what are you doing here?” Azriel asked.
“I was just passing by when I heard your little speech do how much you love me and care about me” you scoffed voice dripping venom.
Azriel flinched at your words. “Love? What’s going on?” He asked perfectly calm.
“What’s going on? You must be kidding me Azriel. You really must think I’m stupid” you chuckled darkly.
“What are you saying?” Cassian interrupted.
“Oh I’m just talking about the passionate night Azriel had with a stranger not to long ago. Do you remember love?” You said mockingly.
Azriel’s eyes widened and he started shaking. “What? I-“
At this point both Cassian and rhysand had turned their attention to their brother both shocked. “Azriel is this true?” Cassian asked clearly angry.
Cassian was your best friend and his anger was clear.
“I-“ Azriel stuttered.
“You what? You went and slept with someone and I blamed myself for it. I though okey maybe Azriel wants something more someone better. So you know what I did Azriel? I tried to become better” you practically shouted “and now” you laughed “and now you’re what? You decided that you love me? You decided that you worry about me?”
“Y/n let me explain please I- you are perfect I just-“ he was panicking.
“No, you know what? You had your chance to explain, I gave you two months for you to tell me, to be honest with me and explain how I don’t want to hear it” you spit before you turned and left.
-
Months after the hurt was still there buried deep, the void of losing someone you loved so dearly was there but you couldn’t ignore the weight that lifted off your shoulders.
Azriel had tried to talk to you for months after that but you refused to listen, you left the inner circle but still held your relationships with the rest of the inner circl. You’d till went shopping with mor, you still spent hours taking with Cassian, you still read with amren and nesta, you still went to Rita’s with them when azriel didn’t go.
You were happy that you had succeeded in keeping your relationships, however sometimes you still had thoughts of what would happen if you decided to talk to azriel, what would happen if you’d let him explain and maybe try again fresh. But that wasn’t possible, he had lost your trust, even if you wanted you could never trust him, you would never be like you were before.
Sometimes you liked to look forward to the future and see what would happen if you and Azriel made up and become friends, maybe you could rejoin the inner circle but he was your mate.
You sighted, he was your mate and he had hurt u deeply and just like that the pain blossomed again before you pushed everything down and wore the blank expression again as you realized that nothing would be the same again, you would never find happiness again.
,
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zuko-always-lies · 3 years
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Katara, Gender, the Double Burden, and the Problematic Gender Norms of Modern Western Society
To start this off, I want to make it clear that I absolutely love Katara as a character. I think she’s amazing, complex, and interesting.
Yet I find the way the narrative of ATLA frames her to be intensely problematic.  Much more under the cut:
So, to start off Katara is depicted as someone deeply interested in learning how to fight, despite the entrenched sexism she faces within Water Tribe society. That’s not an issue with her character and is in fact one of the more endearing parts of it. And, of course, Katara is an amazing combatant and frequently takes the lead in fight scenes, bearing the full burden of fighting the war on the frontlines.  She can also heal, but until LoK’s questionable depiction of her, that was never the center of her character.
The problem with Katara’s depiction is the other half of it. We find out this out in “The Runaway”: 
Katara: Fine! It's a lie. But you've been so out of control lately, I knew something was up. I knew you were hiding something, and you were. (Toph knocks the poster from Katara's hand and walks away.) Don't you walk away from me while I'm talking to you! Toph: Oh, really, Mom? Or what are you going to do? Send me to my room? Katara: I wish I could. Toph: Well, you can't. Because you're not my mom, and you're not their mom. (She points to Aang and Sokka.) Katara: I never said I was! Toph: No, but you certainly act like it. You think it's your job to boss everyone around, but it's not. You're just a regular kid like the rest of us, so stop acting like you can tell me what to do. I can do whatever I want! Katara: (chagrined) I don't act that way. (in a shrill and anxious voice) Sokka, do I act motherly? (Sokka, alarmed, decides discretion is the better part of valor.) Sokka: Hey - I'm staying out of this one. Katara: What do you think, Aang? Do I act like a mom? Aang: (digging nervously at his eye) Well, I... Katara: Stop rubbing your eye and speak clearly when you talk! Aang: (chastened) Yes, ma'am.
And this:
Toph: So let me guess. You brought me out here to tell me your sister's not as annoying as I make her out to be. Sokka: Nah, she's pretty much a pain. (Katara scowls.) She's always got to be right about everything, and she gets all bossy, and involved, and in your business. Toph: Yeah, I don't know how you can deal with it. Sokka: Actually, in a way, I rely on it. Toph: I don't understand. Sokka: When our mom died, that was the hardest time in my life. Our family was a mess, but Katara, she had so much strength. She stepped up and took on so much responsibility. She helped fill the void that was left by our mom. Toph: I guess I never thought about that. Sokka: I'm gonna tell you something crazy. I never told anyone this before, but honestly, I'm not sure I can remember what my mother looked like. It really seems like, my whole life, Katara's been the one looking out for me. She's always been the one that's there, and now, when I try to remember my mom, Katara's is the only face I can picture. (Katara is overcome with emotion.) Toph: The truth is, sometimes Katara does act motherly, but that's not always a bad thing. She's compassionate and kind, and she actually cares about me. You know, the real me. That's more than my own mom. (Katara lowers her head, in sadness or perhaps shame.) Don't ever tell her I said any of this.
We also find this out in the very first episode of the show:
Katara: Ugh, I'm embarrassed to be related to you! Ever since Mom died I've been doing all the work around camp while you've been off playing soldier! Sokka (noticing the cracking iceberg): Uh... Katara? Katara: I even wash all the clothes! Have you ever smelled your dirty socks? Let me tell you, NOT PLEASANT! Sokka: Katara! Settle down! Katara: No, that's it. I'm done helping you. From now on, you're on your own!
So Katara is firmly established as Team Mom. However, there’s something very screwed up here. You see, Kya died when Katara was 8 years old and Sokka was 9. 8 year old Katara stepped up to be the “mother” of her family and became the caretaker, both physically and emotionally for her older brother to the degree he can’t really remember his mother because it seems like Katara has been always been his caretaker. This is clear example of parentification, something deeply traumatic to a child.
Katara’s official show bio even said this:
Fourteen-year-old Katara is the heart of the show. She is a caring and passionate teenage girl. Kindness and empathy are her most endearing traits.  When outraged, her desire to rectify wrongs often overrides the trio’s safety. Katara is determined to save the world, despite her limited abilities.  Katara’s dogged determination keeps her going.  Katara is very mature and responsible for her age and always plays the mediator between Aang and Sokka. She is the glue that holds them together.
And we get the sense that she has to be the mature and responsible one in “The Desert.”
Katara is also someone who very much bears the burden of looking after the emotional needs of the rest of the Gaang. She gives comfort more often than she receives it.  Here’s a classic example from “The Southern Air Temple”:
Katara:  [In the background, Sokka is hunched over his rock, clenching his teeth together. Katara shouts calmly with a sad expression on her face. The camera slowly moves in on her.] Aang! I know you're upset and I know how hard it is to lose the people you love. I went through the same thing when I lost my mom. [Diverts her eyes. Shot switches to a frontal view of Aang, his tattoos glowing and wind swirling around him; his clothes flutter in the storm. Sokka runs over to his sister in the background.] Monk Gyatso and the other airbenders may be gone, [Close-up of her as she looks up at him.] but you still have a family. Sokka and I! [Sokka opens his eyes and glances at his sister.] We're your family now!
Even Katara’s trauma regarding her mother’s death is usually brought up not for its own sake but in the context of making her emphasize with the issues of other people(for instance with Aang in “The Southern Air Temple,” with Haru in “Imprisoned,” and with Zuko in “The Crossroads of Destiny”). Her deepest pain becomes a tool to make her more empathetic and caring.
Katara is also the member of the Gaang who we most regularly see doing basic chores:
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What does this all mean?
a) Katara is someone who has experienced the deeply traumatic experience of parentification.
b) Katara, like many women, is someone who bears the double burden of both “working”(i.e. fighting in ATLA’s context) and being a caregiver. She has to be healer, fighter, emotional caretaker, and physical caretaker all once.
To be clear, there’s nothing wrong writing Katara that way. The issue is that the narrative never depicts 90% of what Katara has to undergo as being problematic or traumatizing. The fact that she has to be responsible for her age and has been a primary caretaker since she was eight is considered endearing, rather than something traumatizing.
Why is that so? Because the dominant modern western cultural ideal for women is for them to bear the double burden, to both be workers(with all the attendant demands) and to be self-abnegating caretakers. Moreover, the fact that Katara is a girl of color encourages people to see her as older than she is. 
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2dmenenthusiast · 3 years
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I can't remember if I sent this to you already but could I request headcanons for aizawa, hizashi and Toshinori finding their s/o that has a chipmunk quirk that makes her fall into hibernation when it's too cold (kinda like tsu) but when the guys find her with her heart rate low and her breathing shallow maybe they freak a little bc she didn't tell them about that part of her quirk yet
omggggg this idea is literally so cute I got so excited when I first read it. Also thank you love for comin through with the requests, I really appreciate it! <3 I also hella struggled cuz like, what can someone with a chipmunk quirk do? Stuff their cheeks? Climb up trees? Also I legit forgot what a chipmunk even looked like I had to look it up lmaoooo im so dumb it hurts
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Aizawa is an intimidating fella, okay
So when you first told him about your quirk, you were lowkey embarrassed?
Like, here’s this grown-ass man with a badass quirk who is more than capable of taking down villains and defending himself, and here you are just-
🐿️
But you know what’s great about this man? He couldn’t give less of a shit about your quirk or anything like that. He strikes me as the type to care more about personality than anything else
concealing your quirk is fairly easy. People probably wouldn’t even know you had one if it wasn’t for the small fluffy ears popping out of the top of your head, and even then you could just cover them with a hat
But that doesn’t mean you don’t experience the effects of your own quirk just because it’s subtle
You have a mutant type quirk, so you experience certain things that actual chipmunks do
Sometimes you won’t even notice that you’re stuffing your cheeks to full capacity with whatever you’re eating before Aizawa has to cut you off and just be like
“y/n. Chew.”
Or when you’re rushing, you’re usually going so fast that Aizawa can barely even see you zooming from room to room
you can also get kinda skittish at times, your ears twitching whenever you hear a noise that sounds weird or out of place, and you’ll just look at Aizawa with wide eyes until he checks out what made a noise that he could barely hear
“y/n, it was just some kids outside.”
“Oh... sorry, Sho.”
he wants to be frustrated, but he knows it’s not your fault. And honestly? He finds you so cute that he can’t really stay mad at you
So he’ll just let out a huff before patting your head lovingly, grazing his fingers over your ears (Which he KNOWS are sensitive, that asshole)
Experiencing long periods of deep sleep is also a thing. You wouldn’t call it hibernation cuz you still have to do normal, everyday things, but there are times during the winter where you’ll sleep for a few days in a row and only get up to go to the bathroom or eat
And since you can’t actually burrow into the floor of your home, you usually make a blanket fort in the corner of your bedroom and stuff all of the pillows and blankets you can in there until it’s nice and warm, ready for you to bury yourself in
and you might’ve left that little part of your quirk out when you moved in together. whoops
So when Shouta comes home and sees the living room couch void of all of its pillows, he’s not expecting to walk into your shared bedroom and see you curled up in a blanket fort
he’s a bit curious at first, just kinda looking at you like “All right, I guess this is normal?”
and he’ll crouch down and kinda examine you for a bit before he eventually wonders if you’re even breathing? You’re burried under blankets, so he can’t really see your chest moving
eventually he’ll check and see that your breathing is abnormally slow and he kinda just... pauses and checks again to make sure he’s not going crazy.
and he wont deny that he kinda freaks out at first, his immediate thought being that he needs to get you out of there, but the second he grabs the blankets to pull them off of you he’s like wait... hold up.
then it all clicks
you’re a mutant with a chipmunk quirk...
c h i p m u n k
safe to say he’s relieved, so he just lets you be and goes about his day. 
When you wake up a few hours later to go to the bathroom, you come out of the bedroom with your clothes practically on backwards, rubbing at your eyes and stumbling past Aizawa like he’s not even there. And when you’re done, it’s right back to sleep you go
“Back to bed?” Aizawa would ask as he watches you with an amused smirk on his face
“Mhm.”
“Okay. Goodnight, y/n”
“Mm’night.
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Listen, when he first heard of your quirk, he thought it was the cutest shit ever
“Your quirk is Chipmunk?! That’s SOOOOOOOO CUUUUUUUTE!”
No he’s legit your number one hype man. If you think your quirk is lame, he’s literally shouting at you how cool he thinks you are.
“You can stuff so much food in your mouth, y/n! And that’s pretty dope if you ask me! I’m totally jealous!”
speaking of food, he’ll just randomly ask you to shove as much as you can of one thing in your cheeks until they’re at full capacity.
“Hey y/n, think you can shove this whole pack of jumbo marshmallows in your cheeks?”
“But... I just bought those :(”
“I’ll buy you more, LET’S DO THIS!!!”
also asks you the dumbest questions omg. You don’t know if he’s genuinely curious or if he’s just doing it to piss you off
“So do you just eat nuts all day?”
“You’ve seen me eat, Hizashi. No.”
“Do you prefer to sleep in trees?”
“That would be extremely uncomfortable.”
“Ooh you’d probably be great frieds with Kamui Woods then.”
“Did you not hear what I just said?”
He also REALLY likes your ears. Like an unhealthy amount? Whenever you’re around he literally wont stop touching them and even tugs on them playfully until you’re swatting at his hands and telling him to go away
He can’t help that they’re so cute :(
so on a particuallry cold day in winter when he has to go to work at the school, he leaves your home while you’re sleeping, only to come home hours later to find you... still sleeping?
You haven’t moved an inch the entire time he’s been gone, so needless to say, he’s a litle concerned.
and when he checks to see if you’re still alive only to discover your heart rate is super slow, he’s A LOT concerned
His brain just goes to the most dramatic thing he can think of, which is that you’re in some weird coma and need to wake up
so rather than, i dont know, gently shaking you awake like a normal person, he grabs you buy your shoulders and starts shaking you violently while shouting your name loud as fuck
“Y/NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN”
“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!”
you literally wake up so violently, you sit right up and shove him off of you before asking what’s wrong with him, pretty sure you’ve officially gone deaf
He then explains that he thought you were in a coma or something cuz your heartbeat was so slow, and at that point you just roll your eyes because of course he would come up with this ridiculous conclusion
“Hizashi, my quirk is chipmunk and it’s a mutation quirk.”
He doesn’t even get what you’re getting at, just tilting his head in confusion as he squints at you.
“What do chipmunks do in the winter, babe?”
Cue more confused squinting
“Oh my god, they hibernate, you headass.”
it finally clicks and the look on his face makes it seem like he just learned the secret of the universe, and afterwards he’s going on about how cool that is while you just roll your eyes and lay back down to try and go back to sleep, bringing the blanket over your head to try and drown him out
He eventually gets the hint and leaves, but after a while, you kinda feel bad for blowing up on him. He was just concerned and didn’t fully understand your quirk
so letting out a huff, you pull the blanket down and call out his name, to which he immediately runs to you at the sound of, asking you what you need
you just wordlessly lift up the blanket to expose the empty side of the bed, and oh boy, the size of the grin he gets on his face is unmatched
immediately throws off his hero costume so that you can both be comfortable and jumps into bed with you, holding you impossibly close
you fall asleep in a matter of minutes while he just looks at you fondly, hand soothingly rubbing your back.
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Just like the other two, he finds you incredibly cute. Like mans is in love, okay?
everytime he sees your little ears twitch, he just gets the strongest urge to touch them, but he never does without your consent becuase he knows how sensitive they are.
“Uh... y/n, do you mind if I... touched your ears?” 
Baby probably feels so awkward asking ugh PLEASE REASSURE HIM
“Oh? Yeah, of course, Toshi. Knock yourself out.”
oooh he’s excited. He’ll be super gentle about it, just lightly grazing them with his fingers before gently rubbing them between his thumb and forefinger
and at that point you’re littlerally melting, practically falling into him because him caressing your ears like this feels absolutely amazing
When he sees how it’s affecting you, he immediately becomes a blushing mess and apologizes, but you just hug him and tell him it’s okay and that you liked it
yeah he definitely rubs your ears whenever you’re feeling stressed or anxious because it’s become a quick way to relax you
only when he does it though. If anyone else randomly touches your ears, you get kinda uncomfortable
Just because they don’t look human doesn’t mean they still weren’t a part of you, dammit
Anyways, one day when you’re waiting for Toshi to come back home, you’ve got yourself wrapped up like a burrito in your blanket, sitting on the couch as you watched tv
it had been snowing all day, but luckily Toshinori had turned up the thermostat before he left, remembering how you mentioned that you’re not a huge fan of the cold
unfortunately for you, the harsh weather had no trouble taking out the power, leaving you in the dark and the cold
it didn’t take long for the cold to start seeping in through the cracks in the windows, and you quickly began to grow tired before you inevitibly passed out on the couch, still wrapped tightly in your blanket
When Toshi gets home and sees you on the couch, his first reaction is “aw, how cute.”
but then when he comes up to you and starts calling out your name to try and wake you up and you just won’t, and then he notices how much your breathing has slowed down, he quickly growns concerened.
He’s not in full panic mode yet, but he’s getting there, and he’s quick to crouch down to your level and grab your shoulders to start shaking you to wake you up
which you do, blinking groggily at him like you weren’t just in full hibernation mode
“Oh... Hey, Toshi,” you mumble, and you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck to pull him down so that you can nuzzle yourself into his warm chest
He’s not able to ask you about what happened to you before you’ve already fallen back asleep, and when the power comes back on a few minutes later, he does a quick google search on chipmunks and mutant quirks before putting two and two together
Now he’s thinking of all the ways he could make you something to burrow into during those especially cold winters
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clairecrive · 3 years
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“Burn” - Bane x reader [Requested]
A/N: this is for this anon. Thanks again for requesting! I missed writing for Bane.
Warnings: angst
Word count: 2.5K
Taglist: @mollybegger-blog, @evelynshelby, @br0ck-eddie, @sopxhiea, @shadow-of-wonder, @fandom--0verdose, @fuseburner, @kind-wolf, @innerpaperexpertcloud (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)
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The vastity of the night sky had always helped y/n ease her worries. Surely, whatever was bothering her couldn’t be as big and impossible to solve as she was making it out to be. Because, would you look at that? The universe is so big and we’re so small, so insignificant. and that applied to her problems too. 
At least that was what she always told herself whenever she’d feel lost and hopeless. Thinking this way helped her put things into perspective. And sure, not everything was as easily solved but, even in that case, it helped a bit.
And so here they were, she and Bane were laying down staring up at the starry sky. Sometimes, they would spend it in silence, just enjoying the warmth and comfort the other’s body would bring. Others, like this one, they would easily fall into conversations about everything and nothing.
“Was there someone special in your life? Someone you wish to get back to?”
“You mean, romantically?”
He nodded.
“No. Single for life.” She did a peace sign to lighten up her embarrassment but Bane was curious and did not pay it any mind.
“You mean to tell me that you’ve never given your heart to anyone?”
“Well, if you put it that way I have to change my answer to yes. Being in a relationship with someone and giving someone your heart are two wholly different things.”
“Let me rephrase then. Have you ever been in love?”
She really thought about the answer, her mind going back to any romantic involvement she might have had during her life. Even if she scouted her memories, she found that it wasn’t a yes or no question.
“I guess,” not only was the word she chose explicative of her indecision but the tentative tone of her voice left no doubts as to where she was standing. But Bane was confused, to say the least.
“I’ve always been under the impression that love was one of those things where absolute certainty was involved when it came to its presence or absence.”
“I don’t know what to tell you. I have had mostly one-sided crushes, you know?” she started but Bane could see the faraway look in her eyes and knew that she had more to tell but was lacking the right words. So he waited.
“I said ‘I guess’ because I don’t really know what love is. I mean, everyone has a different take on it depending on their experiences but I don’t think I’ve ever felt it,” she paused turning to meet his eyes, “once there was a guy I strongly had feelings for. Even that was one-sided though and it took me a long time to recover from that because he was my best friend at the time. Looking back to it, I guess it was love or the closest thing to it that I’ve ever felt for someone. It hasn’t happened again though so I don’t have anything to compare it to.”
“Maybe it wasn’t love, just deep infatuation. Or maybe I just confused my love for him as a friend for something more. I don’t know. I guess I’ll figure it out when I fall in love with someone else. “ She concluded and refrained from correcting that when with if. she couldn’t see herself being as lucky as to have someone that cared about her and that loved her in the future. But Bane didn’t need to know that.
Turns out that those unspoken words had become a sort of oracle, ‘cause here they were now, years after they had that conversation. Just when she thought that she had found that one person to share her life with, to give her heart to, life quickly come into play letting her know that that wasn’t the case.
Because the man that had saved her from a destiny worse than death, who had given her hope and made her trust him to the point where she had felt safe enough to open up to him and allow him close to her heart, had now shattered whatever remained of it.
"So let me get this straight, first you save my life than you decide to keep me with you so you basically kidnap me, get me to fall in love with you, put me through an insanely difficult training so that I could stay with you but it was all done in vain because now you’re  sending me away?"
"I'm not sending you away but you cannot stay here anymore. I’m doing this for you."
"And why is that? What changed?" and when Bane stayed silent she added, "what happened to 'I want you always' ?"
"I did not lie to you." His words were in striking contrast to the ones he had said before but y/n had learned to read him and could tell that this time he was not lying. But then the question naturally arises, what's really going on?
Nothing out of order had happened in the last few days. Bane and she had been the same as always, even his work had proceeded as usual. So what was it? What was she not thinking about? What was she not seeing?
Letting her mind go back through the last day to fat check that nothing happened, she went through their actions. Light breakfast together followed by a not so light tête à tête then they trained together until he had to deal with something for his work and she had occupied herself otherwise. She had called him to see when she could get dinner started and he said that he had a meeting with Talia first but had come right after. They had dinner and while they consumed their healthy and perfectly balanced meal she shared with him whatever came to her mind while he ate in silence. See, nothing out of order.
Wait a minute...
He went to meet Talia.
"It's her, isn't it?" Suddenly, everything was clear. She knew what had happened, what had changed. And she sneered at the pull Talia had on him. Suddenly, she understood but at the same time, the last year lost its meaning.
"I just wish I realized earlier that you didn't care about me as much as you said you did," turning she went to her cabinet to get her stuff, "I wouldn't have put myself through so much otherwise." 
Nodding, she knew what she had to do. She had to leave. There was no reason to stay. Resolute and defeated she put everything her eyes fell on that was hers in a little bag. Clothes, lingerie, cosmetics, books. But when her eyes landed on the little box where she kept everything connected to him, her heart broke further and her anger was fueled. 
In there, there was every present Bane ever gave her. Every little thing that made her think of him in some way. The letters he wrote her whenever spoken words failed him. She knew that going through its content would equal to a chronology of their relationship. If it was possible her heart broke even more. Everything she did to stay with him, everything he did to keep her now was all vain. She gave up so much for him, for a man. Her former self would be ashamed of her and knew that her heartbreak was contributing to making her feel something akin to that. 
"Here," she said walking where he was standing, "take this. I don't want it anymore," and she threw it at his feet. The only acknowledgement on his part was a tilt of his head but it wasn't needed. He knew what it was and what she kept inside of it. He felt a pang in his heart but kept his face void of any emotion. 
"I'll want you always," she said mocking his voice, still stuffing stuff in her bag and chuckled with mirth, "what a load of bullshit." 
"Actually," stilling for a second, with a shirt cramped in her fist she faced him, "I am the biggest clown between us because I believed you." retrying her stuffing, shaking her head she added in a whisper, "I should have known better," but Bane heard. 
As soon as he decided on this course of action, he had also prepared for her reaction. He knew her well and so far she hadn't done anything that he hadn't expected. And while he had been ready, he couldn't help but feel hurt by her words. He knew how she was looking at this situation, knew that his words had led her to believe it to be so. At the same time, a little part of him wished for her to oppose to his words, to see right through them and see that he was lying. That he had been honest when he had told her those things, he had opened up to her and meant everything. But knew that she was too lost to rage and hurt to think clearly. And it was also the reason why she was acting up and had thrown the box on the floor. He knew that she deeply cared about it and what it meant to her. He almost thought of offering some kind of comfort, to give her some hint about what was really going on. But knew that it would be unfair to her. After all, he was doing for the sake of her safety.
“You know,” her voice brought him back and his eyes were immediately drawn to her, “isn’t it funny how you man always pride yourselves to be strong and all that bullshit when even someone like you, who’s the epitome of masculinity and strength, at the end is totally subjected to a woman?” 
They would always have this kind of conversation. Bane, being a leader of a huge army, had the tendency to be bossy. Even in situations when it wasn’t needed. It was just who he was and he felt the need to remind her of his alfa status an unnecessary lot of times. While she could enjoy this inclination of his when they were in bed, she definitely couldn’t stand it in their everyday life. And now, it made her feel stupid that she had to put with it and learn how to deal with it but when it came to Talia, he just did whatever she told him to. Also, this changed her consideration of him. What a clown. She had tried to warn him about his rather toxic relationship with Talia but he’d always get angry and dismiss the conversation either by leaving or shouting at her. She could remember their last fight about it like it was yesterday. It was also the first time that she had ever doubted her relationship with him. The first time that she had thought that maybe she had made a mistake by staying with him, by falling in love with him. Maybe she should have left as soon as she had rescued her. It wasn’t for the motive of their fight, neither her jealousy and worry about his relationship with Talia, but it had all to do with what he shouted her in rage that made her blood run cold and her heart shatter. For it was said that angry and drunk people were the more honest ones. And since that moment she couldn’t help but wonder if he really thought what he said to her or if it was just an impulse propelled by anger as he had explained.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have saved you.” 
And then, as if that wasn’t enough, he decided to twist the knife further.
“I told you not to fall in love with me.”
As if one could choose who they fell for, she remembers thinking.
Those words still haunted her to this day. It happened a while ago and Bane had made it up to her, mostly. But it was in situations like this that they would come back and mock her for even forgiving him and thinking that he loved her as she loved him. To think that even a small part of him thought that it was best that he had left her to suffer in the hands of a sex abuser until he would have eventually tired of her and killed made her sick. How could anyone say something like that to another human being? One they presumedly loved? She couldn’t wrap her head around it. Bane had then explained that by that he didn’t mean leaving her with her captor but simply bring her with him and keeping her with him. Despite the fact that his explanation made sense, y/n still didn’t think it made things better.
And as for his second statement, it went mostly unmentioned. 
Sure, that had been something he had told her in the beginning. It was after her training required them to spend most of their days together since he wanted to attend to it personally. Y/n knew that being in the military and with his past, it wasn’t easy for Bane to show emotions let alone let someone close enough to him to allow himself to love them. She understood that. She had a few things she was dealing with that made it difficult for her to entertain the idea of something more between them.
But that was almost a year ago. So much had happened in their life and between them that even though the words were not spoken aloud, she felt the shift in both their behaviours when it came to them. Hell, they even started dating. 
Not that any of them labelled it that way. But that was beside the point.
They slept together, they ate together every meal, they lived together. If there was a band on both their left ring fingers and it was a more conventional setting, people would assume they were married. 
While y/n didn’t like thinking about what they had in that way, she surely considered the commitment they had made to each other equivalent to a marriage. 
She hadn’t considered Talia though. 
Or at least, she had hoped that if she ever would try and come between them, Bane would stand up for her. 
Turns out that she really was foolish.
“Whatever, I guess it’s not my problem anymore.” Giving him her back again, she closed the almost full bag and went to put on some shoes and coat. 
“I don’t have any use for it, you should take it with you.”
“Neither have I. Burn it, see if I care.” 
And with that, y/n turned around and walked out of their shared apartment at last.
It hurt to say the words, it hurt that things had ended to abruptly, it hurt that even after all this time he didn’t care about her, it hurt like hell but y/n was resolute in leaving all of this behind her. Yes, it wasn’t going to be easy and maybe it would be like leaving a hot fire trail behind her but at one point the fire would burn out, wouldn’t t? 
It may take a while but she would be okay,
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toastandjamie · 3 years
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I have- so many feelings. I’ve been trying to write an analysis since last night but everything I wrote is incomprehensible so this is an attempt: advanced apologies. Originally I wanted to make a post about C!Quackity and C!Tommy’s relationship but then it got me thinking of talking about what makes Tommy so vulnerable to manipulation even incidentally which brought me to Wilbur and Techno. So I’ve decided to just make a mishmash comparing Tommy’s relationships to these three complicated people.
Starting with Quackity I think we can all agree, Quackity GETS Tommy. In a way others on the server(like Fundy or Foolish) just straight up don’t. Quackity treats Tommy a lot like he treats Slime, with this understanding that Tommy isn’t like everyone else and won’t respond to things like others would. Because Tommy in spite of everything really does act like a kid. He acts out because of boredom or frustration especially when he’s ignored. Often others get frustrated when dealing with Tommy, but Quackity has this odd level of patience different from say Sam, Puffy or even Foolish in that he puts himself at Tommy’s level. At the start I think this was just a genuine attempt at having fun with our chaos raccoon but at the moment it’s almost patronizing(a reoccurring theme). Quackity understands that pushing Tommy will only result in property damage, but he also knows that he can’t let him run around unsupervised(because property damage). When Quackity is unaware that Tommy is listening he sounds more than a little frustrated at his antics, but then Tommy throws on a pair of pants claiming to be called Trousers and insists that he is not in fact Tommyinnit. Quackity plays along, he doesn’t try and force Tommy to stop, he humors him. This is something Quackity does a lot with Tommy, and it’s why Tommy still seems to have positive feelings towards him. Quackity humors him the way adults will humor a child who’s insisting that they are a wizard. Through this lense(which I think Quackity is fully aware of) he’s able to get Tommy into a less aggressive state and get information out him. Like why he’s working with Wilbur, and Tommy’s feelings about it. Which also unfortunately makes him super easy to use. I think in the future as Quackity slowly succumbs to the inevitable power hungry corruption that’ll bury whatever soft spot he has for Tommy, we’ll see Quackity take advantage of Tommy’s blatant abandonment issues using the trust he’s built through these small appeasement based interactions.
Moving on; C!Wilbur Soot! This is a land mine let me tell you. Because Listen, Wilbur is obviously, severely traumatized and mentally ill. I don’t think Wilbur necessarily has any malicious intentions towards Tommy. But unfortunately this bad boy is backing a fuck load of unhealthy coping mechanisms and behaviors. Such as his possessive streak! We saw with L’manburg the whole “if I can’t have you no one can!” Mentality, which has now been transferred to Tommy. It’s a move to assert his control over a situation and unfortunately for Tommy he’s a prime vessel for this behavior because he has absolutely no concept of healthy boundaries! Since his backstory and relationships are a bit blurry we can’t make any definitive explanation for where this came from but for the sake of argument let’s say Tommy has known Wilbur since he was young, and Wilbur was always someone with a possessive personality(albeit less obvious due to the fact that he wasn’t traumatized yet). Being raised by or around someone who never sets boundaries with you can lead to a person growing up not able to do so themselves. And wouldn’t you know it Tommy has clearly never had a stable healthy relationship because all of them have been transactional or codependent. Which is, bad.(shout out to Tubbo and Ranboo though for trying to enforce healthy boundaries sadly though the timing of this separation couldn’t have been worse). Currently I think it’s safe to say Wilbur and Tommy have a codependent relationship. One with a very clear imbalance of power, comparable to a codependent parent-child relationship. In which Tommy excuses Wilbur’s bad behaviors out of a sense of responsibility, this feeling that because they’re “family” he owes it to Wilbur to stay by his side. Not to mention how Tommy obviously craves guidance and leadership from paternal/fraternal figures, which he originally found in Wilbur(later in Dream, Techno and Sam afterwards). Tommy very clearly desires a family structure in which he is loved and protected no matter what, and Wilbur fills that role easily and willingly. Wilbur wants someone who’ll be loyal to him and will never leave or betray him, and Tommy wants someone who’ll protect and care for and, say it with me boys, will never leave or betray him. There isn’t anything wrong with wanting someone to be there for you, but because of their complexes and traumas these feelings of fraternal affection are twisted into a relationship lacking boundaries and for Tommy, complete absence of autonomy. Only doing things because Wilbur wants him to me, because he wants Wilbur to be happy and Wilbur is never wrong. Not a good mindset to have when dealing with someone like Wilbur who is destructive as a means of coping.
Lastly another landmine, in the form of Technoblade! Ah yes, bedrock bros. We love them and miss them. But newsflash guys they ALSO had an unhealthy transactional relationship! But here’s the thing about unhealthy relationships, sometimes people are just not good for eachother. There’s no bad guy or good guy. No ones in the right or wrong. They just, weren’t good for eachother. Now whether this was situational or not can only be answered if they reconnect with healthier mindsets but for now we’ll say it’s situational. Obviously, Tommy was clearly in a bad place. Just barely managing to escape exile after a narrowly thwarted suicide attempt: now packing a whole slew of issues, from paranoia, depression, fear of abandonment, low self worth, and just general debilitating stress. Techno was ALSO in a bad place, he just hides it under a sense of self righteous justice: like guys, his only friend was put under house arrest because of him associating with him, and he was then executed under the threat of death of his faithful horse companion. Techno was angry and blinded by revenge. A bad mix when you toss in a traumatized codependent teenager desperately searching for someone to fill the empty void of fraternal leadership left by Wilbur’s death. Tommy really just wants someone to tell him what to do, like let’s not kid ourselves here. Techno offered Tommy protection from Dream, which yay! But also creates an unbalanced power dynamic(bringing that one back!). I genuinely believe that it wasn’t Techno’s intention, but the thing is, the relationship became transactional: a “I’ll protect you and take care of you if you do what I say and help me.” Type scenario. It was impossible for Tommy to really comfortably say no, at risk of being tossed out of straight up given to Dream to face whatever horrible consequences running away had. BESIDES that, they are just two very different people who had very different priorities. Techno wanted vengeance against L’manburg, Tommy wanted to be protected but always had the intention of returning to L’manburg one day(clearly believing getting the discs would be a catch all problem solver). These two priorities are in direct conflict with eachother; as a result they’re partnership would never have worked in the long term. Here’s the kicker to what makes this relationship so unhealthy though, because those things in isolation don’t make an unhealthy relationship but the fact that Tommy’s poor mental state fueled by Techno’s blood seeking revenge made him act in ways HE deemed wrong, makes it unhealthy. Tommy wasn’t lying, being with Techno made him become a person he didn’t want to be, and it’s NOT Techno’s fault. It was the unfortunate consequence of their opposing view points and unhealthy mental states. Perhaps in a world where the Butcher Army never existed the Bedrock Bro’s team up could have been a moment of healing for both characters; but alas that was not the world we are privy to in canon.
Yeah so that’s it for now I guess
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rena-te · 3 years
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I’m gonna throw some random thoughts/predictions about NEO at the wall. Mostly bc I’ve been thinking about this stuff for a while and need to shout into the void about it. (It will get into the Game’s Opening Sequence as well as any information that’s come out so far, just to mention it in case you were avoiding that content.) Join me for a lot of this down below the cut!
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First of all, Tsugumi. In A.N.D we see her in a destroyed Shinjuku. Along with the visions of the future she gives Neku there are these messages.
“Everyone’s gone away..... All that’s left in the world is me.” (City being destroyed.)
“I can’t hear a thing...” (Tsugumi is walking the streets alone.)
“Hello? Is anybody there?” (Joshua shooting.)
“Somebody... Anybody... Can anybody hear me?” (Rhyme dying to (purple) shark noise.)
This last one isn’t a vision. It happens after Coco shoots Neku and he vanishes. Which leads me to think, since it is mostly a repeat of the first two future visions, it’s actually happening in this moment. It could be Tsugumi calling out one last time...... Before she’s overtaken by something?
“Too late... It’s all over...” (Same as first two. Tsugumi’s eyes notably turn red more than before.)
How is she giving Neku these visions? (It seems that she’s just calling out to anybody, and for some reason Neku heard her.) To send visions like that I’d think that Tsugumi is either Shinjuku’s Composer or maybe an angel? Or something else we’ve not seen? And they’re all visions of the future. Is Tsugumi speaking into the past as well as projecting those images? (We’re assuming that the reason for Shinjuku Reapers being in Shibuya is bc the UG in Shinjuku has been destroyed. So are the visions congruent with Shinjuku being destroyed or is the city being destroyed in the future, likely sometime between TWEWY and NEO?) The possibility of time travel makes things a million times more complicated.
Or maybe Tsugumi wasn’t quite sending him visions at all, and it was a kind of side effect of being linked to a Composer (since they are somewhat omniscient, and bc some of those visions were not really related to Tsugumi.) She was just trying to communicate with him, but some of that power leaked through their psychic bond and gave Neku a bit of clairvoyance?
If Shinjuku’s UG got destroyed, does that leave the Composer alive? We know that the Composer killing themselves would effectively shut down the UG, but if it happens the other way around? The Composer still exists, but would there be no consequence for losing an integral part of themselves? If the Composer’s connection to the UG is so pivotal, maybe the UG being gone is the reason why Tsugumi seems so...empty? (Is she so vacant that someone else is pulling the strings at this point?) It’s odd for Tsugumi to call out to Neku for help, but target him in NEO. (Given orders to target him.)
Also maybe the UG being destroyed but the Composer still existing explains Joshua’s....odd reaction to her? “How fortunate she managed to escape erasure.” Said when he was just in a position of wanting to kill himself in order to destroy his UG. He doesn’t use that sprite often ya know. It could explain the expression he has and the mumbled speech bubble used. Joshua said that he needed to get rid of His UG bc it could negatively tamper with the other grounds. To discover that could be done without killing himself... (And without him knowing of the apparent side effect of a “vacant Composer” Assuming that theory is true in the first place.)
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But why does she have a Mr.Mew doll? Uhhhhh.... There’s also some time shenanigans happening too. And that throws many “what-ifs” into the mix, so I’ll avoid going down that rabbit hole. Basically I have no idea, the possibilities are kinda endless with time travel.
Another thing. This guy is also important. Very important apparently. I had a vague idea about him at first, a guess kinda outta left field, but I mean....I’m liking what bits I’ve scraped together for my guess theory by now. Onto speculating about Mr.Kubo here......
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In the game’s opening sequence he walks right past Tsugumi (so connected to her in some way), leans in towards the camera, looks at you and does his little eccentric pose.
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The only other characters who sorta look into the camera for the opening sequence are Shiba and Shoka, BUT in Shiba’s case it’s more like the camera is centered on him looking forward, and Shoka is more so interacting with Rindo with the way her scene was done. Here Kubo is just walking alone, stops and his eyes lock with the camera...... so wtf does this mean, you’re probably asking. It’s just a funky game introduction, it’s just this dude being weird. Yes, that is all true.
I know that he’s introduced in the line up as a Shinjuku Reaper, along with everyone else. But... I think this guy is Shinjuku’s Producer. If Tsugumi is Shinjuku’s Composer it makes sense for him to follow Her into Shibuya, he’s basically tasked to watch over Her.
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Compared to the other Shinjuku Reapers, his color scheme is more...grey scaled. The girl has a grey suit, but Kubo doesn’t have any colors to his outfit at all. His clothes are plain compared to everyone else in this lineup. His facial expressions are the only...unique thing to his appearance. In the little bit of English dialogue we have of him so far, it seems that he’s giving us some kind of advice? And Fret looks to be put off with his eccentric (I can’t think of a more accurate word for it) demeanor.
So the middle aged man with an eccentric personality, with a tendency to give advice (?), pretending to be involved in the game in ways they are not, clothes styled in only neutral colors, and the funky little watch they’re wearing....along with the light poking at the fourth wall (Mr.H- “You mean those teasers?”) both Kubo and Hanekoma fit that bill.
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Tbh Hanekoma is a bit eccentric, we’re just so used to how he is by now. The watch is just a minor thing that’s a fun little similarity in their designs don’t worry about it. Don’t tell me the watch isn’t important it ties everything together. Also after a quick goggle search, one website is telling me that Kubo’s name means “sunken ground” in Japanese and this other website is telling me what the individual kanji means, (I do not know Japanese in any way and am assuming that the internet is right about all this. I feel like it tracks with him being a Producer though.)
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And just to cap it off, maybe Shiba was Shinjuku’s Conductor. If he rose through Shibuya’s ranks so quickly he’s gotta know what he’s doing. Did he throw Shinjuku out of balance and get rid of the UG so the Composer would be an empty puppet (like Tsugumi kinda seems to be.) Is that why he’s doing all this? Does he plan to become the Conductor (right hand man of the Composer) and then erase the UG, rendering it’s Composer vacant and take control? Shiba wouldn’t know about the Producer, naturally. Is that what it’s all culminating too? Will Joshua be in danger at some point from this guy? I’m wondering when the Higher Plane would step in, but this might just be Kubo’s job since Shiba was Shinjuku’s Conductor (and Hanekoma’s job, since it’s happening in Shibuya now) unless it gets completely out of control. They don’t seem to interfere much, just letting the assigned angels do the groundwork.
So that’s all my thoughts about stuff. I wouldn’t go into the game heavily expecting much of this though. As fun as theories are I’ll be fine enjoying the game for whatever happens. The world-building in twewy is just extremely fascinating to me and I love it so much. This is just my take on a “‘what if” situation anyways so nothing close to this may happen, hahaha. But speculation is very fun and I love to flex my twewy knowledge (it’s been next to useless for like 10 years. Finally twewy is relevant.
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ptergwen · 3 years
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last christmas
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w/c: 2.0k
warnings: a few descriptions of dizziness
summary: someone might be able to get you back into the holiday spirit
a/n: hi hi hi i’m really excited about this :,) i’ve had the idea for a while and i like where it’s going! it’s based it off of the movie last christmas and this is only part one, so if it feels a little slow that’s why AND on that note i hope you enjoy
━━━ *:・。.
“you’re late,” harry comments as the coat room door bursts open. he’s not wrong, but he doesn’t have to announce it. you slip behind the counter while tying up your apron. “only ten minutes. besides, we’re never busy this early.” he presses his lips together and grabs a large cup.
that’s the face he makes whenever you say or do something stupid. you’ve learned a lot about harry in your year of working together. he’s a pretty laidback guy. funny, too. you’d consider him a friend and not just your coworker. the only time he isn’t chill is when your coffee shop has what you like to call its rush hour.
it’s in a pretty prominent area in london, and it gets packed every afternoon. people like to pop in for a muffin or some tea on their lunch break. with it being christmas time and all, the shop is way more chaotic than usual. the seasonal flavors clearly draw a crowd. you take that as a compliment since you came up with a few of them.
the point is, harry can get stressed and pretty mean. you’re afraid he’ll explode if you ask him a question sometimes. he turns super red. but, he also knows more than you do. he’s had to fix countless machines you’ve almost broken. you two make an interesting team. it’s just you and harry who work mornings.
your mouth drops open when you see the line of people squished into the shop. “oh, shit,” you whisper to yourself. harry hears it and hums smugly. “rush hour came early. get out there.” you quickly take your spot at the register. a man with a fuzzy red sweater and judgy look steps up. “hi, sorry for the wait. what can i get started for you?”
the rest of your morning is exactly the same. you deal with the crabby customers, harry makes the drinks. it gets better once your other coworkers clock in for the day. orders get done faster, and you have someone to joke around with from time to time.
you and harry eventually switch because he’s bored of making hot chocolates. you’re in charge of drinks while he rings people up now. it’s not too bad at first. all you have to do is dump some mixes into water and call names. then, everyone starts shouting at you. the drinks gets harder, you keep messing up, and customers aren’t happy.
harry is about to tell you off when he sees you stumble. he rushes to your side before you hit the ground. you grab his arm with an apologetic smile. “thanks.” “is it...” you nod, not wanting him to finish his sentence.
he’s your only coworker you told about your accident. it happened last year, almost a full one to date. you got this job a few months after. harry has always been understanding of it all, and he accommodates you however he can. you’re grateful to have his support.
“i’m just a little lightheaded. i’ll be fine,” you wave him off. he clicks his tongue. “you can’t stand if i let go of you.” you’d try to prove him wrong, but you don’t feel like falling on your face in front of all these people. “go take your break, y/n,” harry says softer this time. you give in, letting him take you to the coat room.
━ ❆
it’s finally the end of the day. your shift ended fine, and now you’re walking out with harry. you’re laughing at something he said inside. you pull your coat up around your face, smiling as you say your goodbyes. harry looks off to the car you assume is his before returning it. he waits until you’re out of sight to get into the passenger seat.
“who was that?” tom asks before harry can even shut his door. “y/n. we work together,” harry replies casually and buckles his seatbelt. the car engine is the only thing holding off silence. he raises an eyebrow at his brother.
“why do you ask?” “dunno. looks like you’re friends,” tom says quietly, pulling out of the spot he parked in. “you haven’t mentioned her.” “i have. you’re never home when i do,” he deadpans. tom drums his fingers on the steering wheel as they stop at a light.
there’s that void begging to be filled again. harry gives him a small smile. “thanks for picking me up, by the way. you’re cheaper than uber.” “does that mean i’m getting paid?” tom looks over at him. “joking. anytime, bro.”
harry can tell he’s waiting to bring you up again. all he did was look at you, and he’s falling. he’s never been subtle about his crushes. harry knows the two of you would get on well, but he’s not sure if you can handle a relationship right now. this year hasn’t been easy for you. you should be focusing on your health, not his tool of a brother.
at the same time, you could use some cheering up. you haven’t sang along to one christmas song playing at the shop. tom gets so into christmas every year, so maybe some of his festivity could rub off on you. it’s possible to work on two things at once, right? you’ll be happy and healthy for the new year. that’s all harry wants for you.
he wouldn’t mind the same for tom, either.
“she’s in all day tomorrow,” harry sighs. tom scrunches his face up in the side mirror. “who is?” “y/n, div. i knew you were going to ask.” there’s no denying that one. “right. i’ll stop in for a drink.”
he smiles about it the whole way home.
━ ❆
the next day is just like the last one. harry seems more on edge than usual, but you don’t know what that’s about. he does let you stay on register today so the chances of you passing out are lower. that all changes when your next customer walks in. you recognize him immediately, even with a scarf covering half his face.
what the hell is tom holland doing in your café? he pulls his scarf down and walks up to place an order. you sort of forget how to act. “you... you’re...” you stammer, eyes wide on him. smiling, he presses a finger to his lips. all he wants is a coffee, and you’re about to get him mobbed. you raise your hands in defense and focus on the register.
“sorry. can i get you anything?” you try again, lowering your voice. he’s still smiling. “sure, thanks. i’ll try an iced peppermint mocha.” a smile takes over your own face. “cool, i suggested that one.” you punch it into the register, keeping your eyes on tom. “i’ll bet it’s good, then. i trust your judgement.” he sounds genuine but teasing at the same time.
“hey, harry.” tom waves at him while he makes something in the blender. harry unenthusiastically waves back before getting to work again. you turn to harry with your eyebrows knitted together. “you know each other?” “really well. we’re brothers,” tom replies, your eyebrows now raised to the top of your head.
“what? how come you never told me?” you almost yell at harry. he awkwardly dumps the contents of the blender into a cup. “it never came up.” “you don’t talk about me, baby bro?” tom jokes, getting his card out. you give harry one more look before turning back to him. “oh, don’t worry about it. it’s on the house,” you dismiss him.
“he’s a multimillionaire, y/n. i think he’ll be fine,” harry chimes in. “family discount,” you decide. tom chuckles and shoves his wallet back into his pocket. “you’re a funny one. can i make it up to you somehow?” his eyes lock with yours. you feel fluttery, like your heart is going to jump out of your chest. there could be a few reasons for that.
“um, can i get your autograph?” you murmur out. “easy. do you have something to write with?” he watches you scramble to get a piece of paper. you pull a pen from behind the counter and hand them both to him. a line is starting to form, but you can’t even pretend to care. there are more important things going on.
harry starts making tom’s drink while he signs the paper. he leans on the counter, his tongue poking out. he’s so sweet for doing this. your alarm goes off before you can tell him that. you quickly shut it and peek over the register to see. harry comes up to you.
“isn’t that for your medication? you should probably go take it,” he says so only you hear. you shrug a shoulder. “i set it a few minutes early. i’ll be fine.”
“here we go.” tom grins and hands you the paper, then the pen. you put it down with another smile before looking over his signature. you’re confused when you don’t see one. instead, he wrote down a bunch of numbers.
it can’t be...
“it’s my number,” tom explains, glancing over at harry for a second. he scoffs and puts the lid on his drink. “i figured you’d like it more than my terrible cursive.”
your whole body feels hot. whether it’s from putting off your meds or getting hit on by tom holland, you’re not sure. you wouldn’t mind the latter, though. it’s the safer of the two. in all seriousness, the fact that he has any sort of interest in you is pretty insane.
“wow, for real? thank you.” you look at the piece of paper in your hands, then at tom. “does this mean i can text you?” he’s practically beaming at you. “or call.” “tom,” harry calls from the pickup counter. he rolls his eyes for good measure. “i guess your drink is ready,” you laugh out. tom adjusts his scarf again.
“i guess it is. i’ll talk to you later?” you hold up the piece of paper. “that’s what this is for.” he breathes out a laugh and turns to go. you’re about to call up the next customer, but he looks back at you. you shake your head. it’s going to be impossible getting through what’s left of your shift. “enjoy.” tom nods confidently. “i will.”
━ ❆
the first thing you do once you get home is call tom. your roommate is out with friends, so you’re spread out on the couch. all the lights are off to help the headache you got. with your luck, you’ll wake up with a migraine. you’ve become too familiar with nursing those. it’s given considering everything that happened.
tom picks up on the third ring. you hold your phone to your ear and sit up. “hello?” he asks sternly. you cringe at yourself for not texting him who you are first. “hi, it’s y/n. i probably should’ve texted.” his tone softens. “no, you’re fine. i was waiting for you to call.”
“were you really?” you lay your head back on the arm of the couch. he hums proudly. “tom holland was waiting for me to call him?” “he was.” you can hear the smirk in his voice. “he really enjoyed your conversation earlier.” sighing, you look at your reflection in the tv. “i did, too. i don’t think harry could say the same.”
“he hates having me around. i’m embarrassing, apparently,” tom laughs at his brother’s behavior. you press your lips into a pout. “is that why i’ve never heard about you?” “probably,” he confirms. it seemed weird that he wouldn’t want to tell the world his brother is spider-man. then again, harry isn’t like that.
“that’s nice, though. it’s like i’m the same me before the movies,” tom lightens the mood. “not that i know you, but i feel like you are,” you agree with a small smile. he’s grinning at his phone. “speaking of not knowing me, when are you free?” he smoothly transitions to the asking you out part. you were hoping you’d get there.
“saturday. why?” “i was wondering if you’d want to go out with me.” you hold the phone away from your face and silently squeal. tom didn’t need to witness that. “that would be fun, yeah.” “anywhere special you want to go?” he asks. he’s hoping there isn’t because he already has a place in mind. you actually don’t.
“surprise me.”
-
i made a new taglist form, so fill it out if you want!! the link is in my bio
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zootopiathingz · 3 years
Text
Inner Demons
The subconscious is a mysterious place.
As he searched his surroundings, all he saw was darkness. Nothing but a black empty void surrounded him on all ends. He wasn't sure if he was walking forward or back, and if he was walking toward something or further from it. Nick wasn't afraid, not anymore. He was quite familiar with this dark place. It was part of a recurring nightmare he had every now and then, ever since he was a child.
It never used to bother him that much after a couple years. He'd grown accustomed to its strange occurrences, and it usually played out the same every time so there was hardly any surprises. Nothing scared him or stressed him out. He just dreaded it every time, mostly because of the voice that would speak to him. It sounded like him, but with a much deeper and more disturbing tone. He just assumed it was what most mammals called the "inner demon".
But this time he was a bit worried. He hadn't been in this place since meeting his girlfriend two years ago, so now he didn't know what was to come from this dream. Maybe it would just be the same old, same old. But Nick had a terrible feeling that wasn't the case.
"Alright, let's just get this over with." He said aloud to whoever was listening. "What do you want now?"
He heard a small chuckle that echoed around him, causing a slight breeze to pass by.
Well, it seems we meet again.
Nick sighed wearily, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You say that every time. Let me guess, you're here to tell me everything that's wrong with me and that I'll never be good for anything so there's no use in trying."
Silence was followed.
He scoffed, feeling a bit smug now. The voice had never not had a response before. Perhaps this was a sign he was finally conquering it. "Yeah, that's right. You've said it all before, it doesn't bother me anymore."
You're a lot more confident this time. But your smell..it's off.
"My what?" Nick asked, raising a brow. What the hell did it mean by his 'smell'? Did he give off a scent that the voice was used to?
Yes, you reek of...rabbit.
Nick's face went blank. "Wh..what do you mean?" He dared to ask.
Oh, that's right. You have that little partner of yours now. I had forgotten about her. No wonder you seem softer now.
"Softer?" He asked, putting his paw on his hip. "You know what, it doesn't matter. Can you just get your little speech over with so I can wake up and get back to my life?"
It was true, there was nothing it could say that Nick wasn't used to hearing. Hopefully this was the end of this nightmare, for good. Now that it's words didn't affect him, it would no longer have power. And that would be it.
But it seemed the voice had other plans.
Mmm, no. I say let's make this a little more interesting.
Nick's brows furrowed in suspicion. But before he had the chance to ask questions, he saw the blackness beginning to crumble. It shook the area, but it wasn't enough to make him need to duck and cover.
As the walls fell down, a much different scenery appeared around him. It was brighter, greener, and calmer. Once all the debris was gone and faded, he looked around to see he was somewhere in Zootopia, somewhere he actually recognized almost right away. There was some grass patches and rocks, and above him was an old stone bridge with moss growing out of it.
"Ah, geez." He said dreadfully. "Look whatever you're planning isn't gonna work!" He pointed upward, assuming that's where the voice was hiding. "I'm onto you!"
"Nick?"
His ears jolted up as he heard that familiar voice. It wasn't his inner demon, that was for sure. This voice was softer and more gentle. He would know it anywhere.
"Carrots!" He said, turning around to find the bunny standing on the opposite side of the under bridge. She looked so real and lifelike, almost like he could actually touch her. And maybe he could, but he knew this was no doubt a trick, and he didn't want to fall for it.
"Nick, what's going on? Why are you standing over there?" Judy asked, gesturing for him to come closer to her. "Come over here."
Just as Nick took a step toward her, his suspicions rose again. What if he got too close and the inner demon hurt him again? What if this was just another trap set for him to fall in? Most twisted of all, it was using Judy as bait to lure him in.
"Uh, I'm sorry but I um, I can't." He said, reluctant to get any closer to her, so he kept his feet perfectly still on the ground.
Judy frowned, "Why not?"
Now he felt bad. That look on her face was all too real. It looked exactly like her actual frown. And he hated seeing her upset. "Normally any other time I would, but right now there's something going on and I just can't."
She sighed, "Why do you always do this?"
"Do what?" He asked, feeling his nerves starting to creep up on him.
"Distance yourself." She answered, holding her arms. "Whenever I think that you've finally gotten used to being around me, you go and push me away. I understand you need space sometimes, but you don't need to act like it's the worst thing to let me help you."
Nick could hardly form a sentence in response to what she said. It was her voice, and it sounded just like her. But it didn't seem like her at all. She wouldn't ever actually say that to him.
Would she?
"Wh-what are you talking about? I don't push you away." He said, making it clear how much more nervous he was feeling.
"Yes, you do." She said, turning away. "It's like you're afraid to get too close to me. I just don't know if I can take it anymore, Nick."
His breath hitched for a second. He feared letting out another exhale, as if somehow breathing was going to make her walk away and leave him. "Wait, what? What are you saying?"
Judy sighed again, relaxing her shoulders from the scrunched position they were in. "I'm sorry, Nick. But I need to be with someone who's not afraid to talk to me, someone who won't push me away when they need my help."
"Wait, Carrots, don't!" He said, becoming desperate. Now he knew where this was going, and he didn't care for it one bit. Why would she do this? He didn't push her away that much, did he?
Then again, it was pretty hard to get close to others ever since the incident with the junior ranger scouts when he was little. The mammals he thought were his friends ended up hurting him in more ways than one. But Judy would never do anything like that him. So why did he still not fully trust her?
You're not good enough for her, anyway.
There it was. The voice from before, the voice from all these years starting to torture him again. Why was he not surprised?
Nick ignored it and dared to take a step closer to the bunny. "Carrots, please. I promise I'll try harder. You just have understand that it's hard for me to trust others."
It’s no use. She’s gonna leave you just like everyone else.
"I know, I know. But you've been saying that for two years." Judy said, tugging on the sleeves of her shirt. "How much longer do I have to wait?"
She deserves better than you. After all, you're just a no-good, lying fox.
Nick groaned in frustration, trying to shake away its words the best he could. But the voice was getting louder and harder to tune out. "Ugh, just stay out of this." He gritted his teeth.
You were never good enough. You never will be. And it's clear that she knows it, too.
"Just stop! You're lying!" He exclaimed.
"I'm not lying, Nick." Judy said, catching him off-guard. He didn't realize she could hear him talking to the voice.
Nick shook his head and paws, "No, no, I didn't mean— I, look I don't know what to do, okay? This is just..it's really hard for me! I know it's hard for you too but if you give me a chance, I promise I'll do better."
Judy sighed sadly, lowering her head. "You've said that before. Now I just don't believe you." She turned around, facing her back toward him. "I'm sorry, Nick."
He felt his heart sink to his stomach as she started to walk away. With every step he took, he saw the ground beneath her turn darker, creating an unsettling path. Even the grass within close distance turned brown and crinkly.
It was never going to last. How could a bunny ever love a fox?
Nick couldn't bare to see her go. Tears started forming in his eyes as he stepped out from under the bridge. "Carrots, wait! Don't leave!" He called out in desperation. "Just give me one more chance, I promise it'll be different! Carrots!"
Don't bother. She's gone, as she should be.
"This is all your fault!" He said angrily, looking up at the sky. "If you didn't torment me all these years, I could've given her what she deserves! I wouldn't be so afraid of getting close to everyone! And now you've taken away the one thing I care about most!"
Oh, you thought that was me taking her away?
It laughed. Nick didn't like that sound, it was spine-chilling. It made him uncomfortable beyond description. He never heard the voice laugh before, and something told him he wasn't going to like whatever followed.
Then, something else caught his attention. He gasped as he looked up at the bridge, spotting a red fox—that looked exactly like him—on all fours, growling deeply. As if that wasn't disturbing enough to look at, he also noticed that the fox was staring at something in the distance. And Nick knew exactly what it was. Or, rather who it was.
"No.." He whispered, turning around to glance at Judy again.
Immediately, the fox leapt down from the bridge and bolted toward the bunny at lightning speed.
"Judy, RUN!" He shouted loudly, making a run for it toward the scene. If he couldn't stop Judy from breaking it off with him, at least he could try and save her from whatever savage clone this was.
Judy didn't hear him, though. In fact she only realized what was happening once she heard a loud growl from behind her. She turned around and gasped, coming face to face with an angry fox that was darting toward her faster than the speed of sound.
Before Nick could catch up in time, the clone pounced on the rabbit and raised its paw up to slash its nails right into her face. She let out a horrific scream, unable to do anything to stop its assault.
Nick had to force himself to keep running, even though he almost froze for a second. The sounds of her agony made both his heart stop and his blood boil. And seeing a clone of himself hurting her in such a way only made it worse. He quickened his pace and eventually caught up to them before any more harm was caused.
He jumped onto the clone, pushing it off of Judy and pinning it to the ground. It squirmed and snarled, but otherwise was unable to fight back. Honestly it barely tried. "You son of a bitch!" He spat angrily, keeping its head against the dirt. "Stay away from her!"
It bared its teeth in response, now going still beneath him. Nick wasn't sure why it wasn't trying to escape, or why it hadn't just somehow disappeared, since this was obviously just the inner demon's creation. But that didn't matter right now.
He turned to look at Judy, who was sitting up and holding her face where she had been scratched. "Carrots! Are you okay?" He asked worriedly.
Judy slowly removed her paw, revealing the large gashes of blood over her eye and on her cheek. Oh god, it was worse than he thought. How could three claws cause so much damage to another animal?
She sniffed, as if she was about to cry. But when she opened her eyes to look at him, all he saw was resentment, and a hint of fear. She tried to scoot away, keeping a distance between them with the little strength she had.
"You really are a monster!"
Her words hit hard, like a knife to his chest. They rang in his ears to a point where it was all he could hear. They repeated, over and over until they were the only words he knew existed. He felt his whole body go numb, and his entire world crashed. The once calm and peaceful landscape around them went dark, and eventually turned to blackness again.
"N-no." Nick whispered, his eyes becoming watery. "No, I-I'm not a monster!"
He glanced down to look at the clone again, only to see that it was no longer there. In fact, the place he was in had changed. As it turned out, he was the one on the ground in the pinned position. He was the savage fox now.
"No, no, no, no. Wait, I- I didn't mean it." He said, starting to feel panicked and afraid. Judy just turned away, her figure turning into a silhouette of his cruel imagination. "Judy, wait please! I would never hurt you! You know that! Come back!"
No amount of begging was able to stop her from fading away. Now he was alone yet again in the endless void of darkness and isolation. He tried to move, but he was stuck. It felt like there were invisible chains holding him down—which knowing his imagination, that was probably the case.
"Judy wait! Please!" Nick shouted, even though he knew it was pointless. He heard the voice laugh yet again, this time it was louder and painfully obvious that it was up to no good.
It said nothing. Just laughed and laughed in a sickening taunt. The laughter only grew louder the more Nick struggled and squirmed in place, trying to flee from whatever trap he was in. And most cruelly of all, a muzzle was somehow making its way onto his face, right over his snout.
"No! No!" He cried out, feeling the muzzle straps tighten behind his head, which was starting to prevent him from opening his mouth anymore. He was stuck, helpless, and alone with nothing to stop his suffering.
Before the muzzle was completely strapped on, he tried one last time to call out for help. Despite the voice's laugh being obnoxiously loud, he knew deep down someone would hear him, somehow.
"JUDY!"
"Nick?"
Nick opened his eyes, letting out a small gasp. He sat straight up, taking a look around him, and taking in the fact that he could actually move. He observed his surroundings as he came back to reality, realizing he was in the safety of his bedroom with Judy sitting next to him in bed.
Even though he knew it was a dream in the beginning, it gradually felt more and more real to him. That had to have been the most disturbingly twisted dream he ever had.
"Nick, what's wrong?" He heard Judy ask, sounding quite concerned. "You were talking in your sleep."
He nodded, rubbing the side of his head as he tried to grasp everything that just happened. It felt like a blur, yet it played out so vividly in his head as he recapped it all. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" She asked, scooting closer to him. "It sounded like you were having a nightmare. You were saying my name; my actual name. And you never do that."
Nick nodded again, keeping as little eye contact with her as he could. He honestly didn't want to get into it. Talking about the dream would just feel too weird. He never openly discussed his nightmares with anyone. And telling her that he heard a voice every now and then? She would think he was insane.
"Yeah, I'm good. Trust me." He said. But despite his efforts to hide it, he knew she didn't believe him.
Still, she didn't want to pry. If he wanted to talk about it, he would, at his own pace. She had to respect that.
"Okay, if you say so." She gave him a nod.
However, now that Judy had agreed to leave him be, something didn't feel right. He did tend to push this like this aside like it was nothing, when in fact it did bother him. Maybe he really did push her away when he needed her. Maybe he had this dream for a reason. His subconscious was trying to warn him.
He didn't want to be the reason Judy felt useless. He didn't want to push her away and make her feel like he didn't trust her. It was the opposite, actually. He trusted her more than anyone. She had to know that, right?
Before Judy could lay back down, Nick wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close against him. She was surprised at first, but didn't hesitate to give in and return the affection. As a matter of fact, she felt relieved that he was able to be more open with his actions.
"Actually I— I'd like to talk about it, if that's okay." He said quietly, resting his chin on top of her head.
Judy smiled softly, nuzzling her face against his fur. "Of course."
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aro-of-artemis · 3 years
Text
no grave can hold my body down (i'll crawl home to her)
A jukebox soulmate au where your missing stuff finds its way to your soulmate.
ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29147940
They say that there's someone who makes up the rest of your soul. That they're your perfect match and once you meet them, once you touch them, your wandering souls will be fused back together, whole and unbroken.
 Luke's not sure who they are. But honestly, he just wishes his shit would stop going permanently missing. You lose something and it's sucked through some kind of hole in space-time to be found by your soulmate. Luke would really like to have a conversation with whoever came up with this system cause it sucks.
 Cause he's a forgetful guy. His brain is always going a million miles an hour, with at least three different trains of thought chugging away and sometimes the tracks cross and there's a collision and all the passengers have to bail out and it's just a mess, okay? Keeping track of his stuff tends to fall by the wayside a little bit.
 It's how he lost his favourite beanie. And don't get him started on the number of individual socks that have just poofed themselves out of existence. He always has to have a box of new guitar picks handy because as soon as it's not in his hand or clamped between his teeth, it's as if it never existed. He just hopes his soulmate appreciates them.
 But it's a give and take. He'll reach into his pocket to find scrunchies, hair clips, endless bobby pins. Just generic stuff that tells him very little about who his soulmate is except that they probably have long hair. (Once, he found one long, dark hair curling around the folds of a scrunchie. He keeps it tucked between the pages of a notebook, stashed away on his bookshelf.)
 (And yeah: they. He's spent a lot of time thinking about this. He's had crushes on all sorts of people and their gender never really made a difference, but his introspection also leads to a solid black ring resting on the middle finger of his right hand.)
 One day, he opens his school bag to find a homework page that does not belong to him. He looks at it, front and back, scouring for a name, a hint, a clue, feeling a thing with feathers rise behind his ribs, reducing his lung capacity and making him draw in shallower breaths. But nothing. Just the slightly messy handwriting of someone who thinks faster than they can write. He sighs and stuffs it back in his bag, reluctantly retrieving his maths book. His frustrated sigh must have been audible because Reggie leans over from his own desk.
 "Hey, you all right, man?' His eyebrows are drawn up together, lines of concern creasing his face.
 "Yeah, yeah. Just soulmate stuff junking up my bag."
 It's not always junk, though. A bracelet turns up on his bedside table. He starts wearing it every day. He refuses to take it off, even to sleep. Sheet music to an unfamiliar song is found wedged between his records. This particular item makes his heart beat faster, his chest tingling and warm. Because they're a musician too. It makes sense, of course. No way his soulmate could not like music. It's basically Luke's entire soul (or half soul, he guesses). But the confirmation makes him feel both calmer and more anxious. He wants to meet this person.
 His favourite item to ever turn up is a photo. A woman and a little kid sit in a field, turned towards each other, faces pointed away from the camera. But he can see their smiles. He sleeps with it next to his face on the pillow the night he finds it because he doesn't want to look away. In the morning, he tucks it into the back of his song-writing journal where he keeps the rest of his heart.
 At 17, he and his best friends are on the precipice of being legends. As he pulls his guitar from the case, a long, striped scarf flutters to the ground, the kind someone might tie in their hair or loop around their wrist. He ties it around his bicep for good luck. It makes him feel like his soulmate is there, by his side, cheering him on.
 They meet a girl - Rose - who looks so familiar. Something about her smile. But he just can't quite put a finger on it. All he knows is that her presence is reassuring. Safe. He doesn't know her but he feels a tug in his chest that says family. The same tug he feels when he looks at Alex and Reggie and Bobby. (He's changed his mind, his half of his shared soul is made up of these three dorks and the music they make together.)
 And then he dies. As darkness closes in around him, he thinks I'm sorry, boys and I'll never get to meet them.
  ---
 "Flynn!" Julie whines. "I can't find my homework anywhere!"
 Flynn rolls her eyes. "Did you check your school bag?"
 "Yes," Julie bites out, not actually mad at Flynn, just at the situation.
 "Your desk?" A nod. "Your dad's car? Under your bed? Your locker?"
 Julie has to stop her. She knows from experience that Flynn'll just keep going. "Yes, it's not anywhere."
 Flynn shrugs nonchalantly, a smirk pulling the corner of her mouth. "Well, guess it's gone to your soulmate then."
 Julie groans loudly in frustration. She pulls her beanie (their beanie) down over her eyes and slumps back against her locker, trying desperately to not look like she's pouting but definitely pouting. Flynn just gives her an unimpressed look.
 Julie breathes out harshly through her nose and resigns herself to retrieving the schoolwork she does have from her locker.
 "Ugh, gross!" she exclaims, fishing a pair of boxers out from where they had appeared in the dark recesses of her locker.
 Flynn's snort turns into a full belly laugh as Julie holds them away from her body, arm extended as if she were holding hazardous waste.
 She chucks them back in and slams the door shut. "Come on, let's get to class."
 Flynn follows, tripping over herself as she continues to laugh her way down the hall.
 ---
 Julie isn't sure who her soulmate is or whether she knows them already. Of course, it's pretty rare to meet them in high school, but a girl can dream. Unfortunately, it seems that her soulmate is terrible at doing laundry because she'll often find individual socks lying on her bedroom floor and undies crumpled in the corner of her bathroom. The beanie that turns up is quickly added into regular rotation and if it isn't on her head, it's tucked into her bedside table. The muscle tank threw an interesting spanner in the works as it set her mind to imagining the kind of person who might wear something like that. (She might, maybe become a person who wears something like that. Occasionally. When the desire strikes her.)
 She's fairly certain that they're a musician. She's constantly finding half-written lyrics strewn around her room in the most atrocious handwriting seen outside of a doctor's office. The lyrics - those that are legible - are beautiful. Occasionally they'll be lyrics to a Trevor Wilson song, though, which is a bit weird but she assumes they must just be a big fan. She appreciates their good taste.
 Another hint is the guitar picks. She finds them everywhere: in her sock draw, between the pages of her school books, next to her toothbrush. One memorable time, she found a pick snarled in her hair. And all of them, every last one, are covered in tooth marks. As if her soulmate has a habit of chewing on their guitar picks. It's kinda gross. Even so, she collects them in a jar on her desk with the date she'd found them written on the back.
 ---
 The boys turn up and her life is turned right-side up. She tells them to stay out of her room. Constantly. Boundaries, she reminds them. Alex and Reggie get it, they can respect her personal space. But, Luke. She knows he goes in there because he keeps leaving his stuff everywhere.
 On this day she finds his flannel just draped across her bed, as if he's trying to irritate her. She snatches it up and storms down to the studio.
 "Luke!" she shouts as she enters the studio, ready to tear him a new one. "What have I told you about going in my roo-"
 She stops short because all three boys are ripping the place apart, looking for something. When he turns around to face her, she sees tears wetting his face that he quickly tries to swipe away. Her heart leaps into her throat.
 "Luke, what's wrong?" she tries to ask but is interrupted.
 "You found it!" His voice is a little watery but exuberant.
 "I -- what?" she shoots him a quizzical look.
 "My flannel. Well - my dad's flannel, but -" he cuts himself off, scrubbing his fist over his eyes.
 Julie scoffs a little, gently. "Yeah, dude. You left it in my room."
 His eyebrows furrow in that way of his.
 "No, I didn't."
 "Uh, yeah. You did."
 "I haven't been in your room."
 "Well, clearly you have," she says, shaking the flannel a little and holding it out to him.
 "Thanks," he says softly as he grabs it, still looking at it with a bewildered expression. But he shrugs it on and uses the sleeve to wipe away what remains of his tears.
 When Julie looks over at Reggie and Alex, they're exchanging a meaningful look that Julie can't quite read. When they notice her gaze, they both glance away, once again fascinated with the chairs on the ceiling.
 Huh.
 ---
  "Julie! Stop leaving your homework in my song-writing journal!"
 "I didn't put it there!"
 "Well who did, then?"
 The patented Reggie and Alex LookTM makes an appearance.
 ---
 "Hey! I used to have a beanie like that!"
 "Uhuh."
 "I did! It was my favourite until I lost it."
 Julie nods but doesn't look up from her homework.
 ---
 "Ew, gross, Luke! Why do guitarists chew on their picks?"
 He shrugs a little sheepishly. "It just helps me think. Besides, if I put it down it just kind of … disappears into the void." He gestures vaguely at the aforementioned void.
 "That's true," Reggie pipes up. "He's always got a back-up supply!"
 Alex scoffs a little. "Yeah, but he's the only guitarist I know who chews on his picks."
 "Well my soulmate chews on theirs," Julie puts in, "So Luke's not the only one."
 She hears the implement in question clatter to the piano. When she looks at Luke his eyes are wide and a little sad. None of them had really talked about soulmates. She's not sure about the implications that being dead has on finding a soulmate. None of them had found theirs before they died.
 Alex, however. He'd managed to literally run into his soulmate in ghost form, so who knows. She's not sure if there are any rules. Whether both parties have to be dead or if one can be alive.
 (If she's honest with herself, she's spent a fair amount of time thinking about this. Thinking about Luke. She pushes the thought away when it pops up cause it's not possible but it always creeps back in. But they can't even touch so it’s a moot point. That longed-for skin-to-skin contact that bridges the gap between souls remains elusive. The silly daydream of a love-struck girl.)
 ---
 "Julie," Flynn says worriedly as they sidle up to their lockers, "Where's your ring?"
 "My rin-" she lifts her right hand to her face and studies her empty middle finger with distraught consternation. The space where delicate twists of black metal usually sit is bare. "My ring! I - I'm sure I put it on this morning."
 "Yeah, I saw you wearing it," Flynn confirms, her eyebrows furrowing.
 Julie can feel a tide rising in her throat, swelling up behind her eyes, each crash of the sea battering against her ribcage in a heartbeat tattoo.
 A poof to her right interrupts her rising panic. She looks at Luke, eyes wide and watering.
 "Julie! I came to bri- What's wrong?" he cuts himself off when he notices her distress.
 "My ring is gone!" Her voice is tight, as if trapped in her throat.
 Flynn had cottoned on Luke's presence and had begun to move around to where he stands to prevent their peers from thinking Julie's well and truly gone off the deep end. (Julie thinks distantly how grateful she is for such a wonderful friend.)
 Bafflingly, a bright smile splits Luke's face. "This ring?" And pinched between his pointer finger and thumb is Julie's ring.
 Julie's entire body visibly relaxes and it's as if her spine contracts a couple inches, muscles no longer held taut by emotion, the tide pulls out.
 "Where did you find that?" Her voice is practically a whisper now, adrenaline having sapped all energy.
 Luke shrugs nonchalantly. "It was in my pick container for some reason."
 Creases form on Julie's face but she gratefully receives the piece of jewellery. She slips it into its rightful place and when she looks up she realises Luke's eyes have gone wide. Her eyebrows pull up into a question.
 "You -- no, sorry, nevermind." He shakes his head and takes a step back. Julie moves forward a step. Flynn glances around to make sure no one is watching.
 "No, Luke, it's okay. What's wrong?"
 He shakes his head again, eyebrows drawing together and the hint of a smile on his lips. Instead of answering, he reaches his right palm out to touch hers, letting their rings knock together.
 "Oh," Julie breathes. She's not sure how she'd missed it before. Maybe just that it had blended in with all his other rings.
 "Yeah," he says, bashful, "Oh."
 Julie smiles at him and he smiles right back.
 ---
 The Orpheum happens. And the boys are clinging to the last shreds of themselves and she's crying out Go, save yourselves.
 But No music is worth making, Julie, if we're not making it with you.
 And she hugs him. And she can feel him. The places their skin meet spark with some cosmic electricity but there's no time to dwell on it because she has to save Alex and Reggie too.
 It isn't until later, when Reggie exclaims, "Hey, what's that on your back?"
 She twists around, glimpsing the shape of a hand darkening the skin of her lower back. Her head whips around to look at Luke and she notices. "Luke, your shoulder!"
 One hand flies up to his left shoulder, tracing over the darkened patch where Julie's palm had first rested against his skin. Their eyes lock.
 "You're-"
 "We're-"
 She's not sure who's making which language-adjacent sound.
 Alex is looking back and forth between them, a grin pulling across his face while Reggie's mouth hangs open in realisation. But they stay quiet. The see, told you so's will be saved for later.
 Julie starts moving, crossing the room towards Luke. Luke seems to shake out of a stupor, surging towards her as well. They meet in the middle, her arms once again wrapping around his neck in a replay of their earlier embrace. His hands find their spot on her back.
 "It's you, it's really you - " she's babbling. She continues to babble. Luke moves a hand up to smooth back her hair and gently places his lips against her forehead, finally causing her tongue to cease. The touch is so painfully tender it feels like a branding iron against her skin. They stay there for a century or so, just rocking to an inaudible beat, clinging to one another.
 Finally, Luke tucks his chin so that he can rest their foreheads together, breathing the same air.
 "You're amazing, Julie Molina. I would die a thousand times to find you."
 She nods, unable to form words cause, yeah, so would she.
 They pull back and her eyes slide over left arm, landing on the scarf tied there. "My scarf!" She tugs on it a little.
 Luke chuckles, sliding his palm along her jaw. Realisation crosses his face. "Oh, that is my beanie."
 His head whips up and around when loud guffaws break past stifling hands. Alex and Reggie have dissolved into borderline hysterics. He looks back at Julie whose eyes fill with shared mirth. A laugh bubbles up in his own chest, spilling over and out of his mouth.
 And finally, surrounded by Alex and Reggie and Julie, his soul is complete.
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Your Dad got out of the car in complete silence, his jaw was tense, and he had the same look he got when he was planning something. You frowned at him; he’d been nearly silent the whole car journey back to the motel. The hunt was easy enough for you, you’d been too busy patching up one of the victim’s stab wounds to help your Dad fight off the demon in the other room. By the time you’d got the victim to safety your Dad was at the car ready to go. Said it was an easy kill.
Uncle Dean hadn’t come on the hunt, he was helping Jody and Claire out with a vamp’s nest just the other side of the town. Sometimes there was more than one monster that needed taking care of, so you had to split. “Dad?” You asked, following him into the motel. “Mm.” He didn’t bother to look up from his phone, where he was busy reading through some texts. His voice was careless. “You want me to get some food?” “No,” he snapped, looking up, “no you-uh, we shouldn’t leave.” “Why? I’m starving.” You tried to keep your relaxed tone, but you were panicking a little. Your Dad seemed off. “It’s uh, not safe.” He said decisively, as though that was enough. “But we just killed the demon…” You trailed off so only you could hear yourself. Shit.
Carefully, so as not to raise suspicion, you took out your phone and texted Uncle Dean: Dad’s possessed. At the motel. Bring holy water. You then switched your phone so it wouldn’t make a sound when he replied. “What are you doing?” Your Dad asked and you felt your heart rate jump. “Ordering food. That’s allowed, right?” You tried to laugh. He smiled, but his expression carried disdain. “Hey uh,” You looked up from your phone, about to suggest something else to try and by Uncle Dean some time, but you stopped dead, “…Dad?” He was holding out his gun, his expression a snarky smirk, “Oh, what’s the matter?” You were frozen, held in place by the thoughts racing through your mind. Fighting your Dad was risky for the both of you. You had to stay alive, but you couldn’t kill your Dad. And there was no way you could hold him off forever, he was stronger than you. Before you could come to any sort of conclusion, he leaped forward.
Instinctively, you slid to the left and swiped his arm away, ducking backwards an out of harm’s way. “Oh, you’re stronger than you look,” the demon spoke through your Dad with an echo of amusement, “I like a good fight.” His eyes flickered to a blackened void. “What do you want?” You shouted at him, but you could feel your voice shaking. He laughed loudly, “I just want to see the look on your face when your own Daddy kills you.” You blocked a punch, sending both arms away. He took the opportunity of an unprotected stomach and kicked you to the floor. You felt his foot crack a rib and groaned as pain pulsed from where he’d hit. “And then,” he continued, “I want to see the look on your Dad’s face when I let him go and he has to live with what he’s done.”
You needed him weak enough for the exorcism to work, but hitting him would hurt your Dad, and not even make a dent in the demon. You needed holy water, which of course was all used up on the hunt. Flickering your eyes to the window, you silently begged for Uncle Dean to hurry his ass up.
“Oh, poor, Y/N. No ones coming to rescue you.” “Who say’s I need rescuing?” You challenged, slowly stepping back. Thankfully, this demon seemed to love talking. He laughed again, but then a cold sincerity spread across his face. “If only you could hear your Dad, girl. He’s screaming in here. Oh he really doesn’t want me to do this,” he grinned, “torturing two Winchesters at once, hey? That’s certainly a treat.”
While he was busy ranting away you snapped your hand out onto his wrist, making him drop the gun, which you kicked away behind yourself. You might have not been as strong as your Dad, but you were much quicker. He raised an eyebrow and then began striding towards you. With each pace his anger grew and before you could properly get away, he grabbed at your arm, his fingers digging harshly into the skin. He tugged you so you were facing him. Holding back a yelp, you desperately tried to keep your cool. You scrambled in his grasp, but his hold on you tightened as he brought his spare hand to your face, holding your gaze. “Scared yet?” He grinned.
It was surreal, having your Dad’s face this close to you, but instead of his usual demeanour he was thirsty for blood. The demon flashed it’s demonic eyes at your gaze.
“Your Daddy and Uncle are gonna thank me after this, you know? They must spend half of their hunts having to save you or waiting around for you to catch up or thinking, hm, what should we do with this dead weight?” He snarled and shook you as he shouted. “I’m going to enjoy killing you. Partly because then maybe your Dad would shut the hell up!” He screamed, looking upwards, where your Dad had been begging for him to stop. The instant his eyes were off you, you kicked him away from yourself and leapt up. You then grabbed the gun before he had a chance.
“What are you gonna shoot me?” He chuckled slyly.
You had a thought. A very, very, stupid thought. But it would definitely buy Uncle Dean more time.
You held the gun up, checking it was loaded and ready to shoot. “You won’t do it!” He dared. “I know.” You said finally, shooting him a daring look back. Your Dad tilted his head, as though trying to figure out what was going through your mind. You threw caution away and nodded slowly to yourself. Here goes nothing.
Slowly, you rose the gun so it was pointed at your temple. You watched with a strange mixture of pride and terror as your Dad’s face dropped. “You’re giving up? That easy?” He asked and regained his pride. “No, but if I shoot. You miss out on all the fun.” He stuttered, “I don’t care how you die. I just want you dead.” “Are you sure?” you taunted, “That’s a pretty boring story to tell all your demon friends, huh? You can’t even manage to kill a small human, so she has to do it herself. Is that really going to earn you that reputation you’re after?” “But you’re not going to do it.” Although his voice was confident, his face was sceptical. “Aren’t I?” You pushed, hearing the tyres of the Impala outside. Or at least, what you hoped was the Impala. He took a step forward and you reached out a hand, “One more step! One more and I pull this trigger.” You could feel the tip of the barrel pressing into your head like an hourglass. Your heart was beating hard against your chest and you could feel each breath timing your chances. Your Dad hovered, unsure…no, not unsure. Something else. It was like he couldn’t move. He cried out “Stop! Stop fighting!” at himself and groaned in pain. His eyes squeezed shut tightly and you saw a tear trickle from the corner of his eye. But in time, he shook his head and gruffly laughed, “Your Dad’s very feisty. I can see where you get it from.” He readjusted himself and put a foot out to take that step. That one step that distanced you from death.
Just as you registered what he was about to do, the motel door was thrown open and Uncle Dean raced inside. You let out one shaky breath and thanked every God there possibly was, throwing your arms back down and hurrying over to your Uncle who threw a bottle of holy water over your Dad. He hissed as the vapours rose from his body, sizzling off the skin, making him weak enough to exorcise.
You and Uncle Dean recited the exorcism, each taking turns dodging attacks and fighting him, but he was becoming weaker and weaker. Finally, he screamed in pain and the demon escaped, black smoke rising from him before he collapsed to the floor. “Dad!” You raced over to him. He was out cold. “Hey, kiddo. You okay?” Uncle Dean looked at you, holding you up a little. He noticed you were hunched over from where your Dad had kicked you. “Yeah, I’m okay.” You barely looked at him as you tried to prop your Dad up so he was against the wall. He grunted and blinked his eyes open, taking his hand over to his broken wrist where you’d kicked him. “Sorry about your wrist…” You winced, watching as he ran his fingers over the bruises. “I’ll get the med kit.” Uncle Dean mumbled. He then rose up and headed out to the car. Your Dad looked up at you, his eyes were back to his gentle expression. He smiled softly. “I’m sorry, bug.” He whispered. You offered a weak smile in return. “You weren’t…you weren’t gonna do it, were you? You knew Dean was coming?” “I knew.” You said, reassuring his feared expression. “Thank God.” He rose his healthy hand up to cup your face let out a sigh, “Did I hurt you?” You ran your hand over where the blood had dried on your face and shook your head, “nothing I’m not used to.” “Don’t scare me like that, okay? I can’t…I can’t lose you, kid.” You felt pangs of guilt as his eyes teared up, his voice a whisper as he trailed off. “Sorry. I just didn’t know how to buy time without hurting you,” you glanced down at his wrist and added, “or at least, without hurting you anymore.” “If it keeps you safe, you hurt me, okay? Whatever keeps you safe.” “Okay.” You nodded, but the two of you both knew you didn’t mean it.
He reached out his arm around your frame and pulled you into his chest, rubbing his hand along your upper arm, “whatever keeps you safe.”
Requested by @bellero​
Request: How about a Sam x daughter!reader where Sam becomes possessed?? Or he has the MOC, I'm in need of angst fjjf xo Hope this is the sort of thing you were after! ilysm x
(Tags after cut)
@nnoxygen @summerbee53 @lil-sister-winchester @itsrainbowunicornstuff @graceless-dragon @iamflanneltrash @clairedelalune @winchester-2301 @lavender-winchester @anarahma@mariahoedt @shewhoscreamssilently @livelikeawinchester@metaphysicalmisha@storyofawinchester@fandomsstolemylife00@griff1ndor@mollykmccarthy@27bmm@archangelsandwarlocks@bea789@imprettycool-i-guess@lovelife-tothefullest@jayankles@seninjakitey@stressedoutkitten   @juneinthered@thyotakukimkim@susan-is-in-the-house@fountain-pen-of-youth@analisespn @fandomqueen2003 
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Mandoctober Day 14: Helmet
A/N: brought to you by angst, depression, a small hot chocolate, the tense feeling in my shoulders as I’m typing this and of course the source of almost all of my writing: the mixture of insomnia and a f**ked up sleep schedule.
p.s. I am trying to take care of myself, October is just a tough time of the year for me and Mandoctober is helping me cope. I refuse to give up any possibly writings/drawings at this point.
Also this is loosely based off of headcannons from @dindjarindiaries​ blog and this is for @leo-moon​ ‘s Mandoctober!
TW: mentions of abuse (both descriptive, non-descriptive, mental, emotional and physical but only for a two, three paragraphs) Refusal to eat or sleep (Din refuses to do these things for two seconds and Reader isn’t granted them) minor character death, themes of slavery (NOT RACE SPECIFIED) (not a trigger warning) pronouns of a gender neutral partner and of course, lastly, hurt/comfort and fluff. (Also personally because I wrote this and I can shout it into the void, I’m gender fluid with she/her pronouns so I’d like to imagine reader is too, BUT THAT’S JUST ME SO IMAGINE THIS HOWEVER YOU WANT, once again requests are open for any sexuality/gender, as long as you give me brief description of what you want, nothing NSFW)
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Time. Aboard the Razor Crest with no specific moon, sun or stars to guide you, time easily became irrelevant. What you learned very quickly was that with this discovery, you realized Din knew that too. 
Or it had gotten to a point where he learnt it a long time ago and just...forgot all about it.
Sometimes he would just sit there in the pilot’s seat, without even doing anything and he would just stare into oblivion. You wondered if his eyesight was okay. Now that you think about it...when was the last time he ate something? Does he ever take that helmet off?
“Din? Are you okay?” For a moment you thought he might be asleep. 
“Sorry...did you say something?” Okay, now you knew he at least needed some sleep. 
“Come on tin can. You need some brain food and maybe even an ‘extended nap’.” You joked.
“Isn’t that just called sleeping?” You couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not...or if that helmet was squeezing his brain too.
“Come on!” Grabbing his hand unexpectedly, Din flinched a little before you dragged him to his feet. 
“I-I can’t.” This admission had you stopping in your tracks as you reached the hull. 
“Is...everything okay?” You were concerned before but now you were starting to think he was hiding a wound from you. He’s done it before. Waiting until you were asleep to tend to it so you wouldn’t worry. Little did he know you had been wide awake with worry for a while and could hear him hurting himself with that blasted cauterizer. 
It was understandable that as a Mandalorian medical supplies weren’t cheap. Even with all the bounties Din brought in, currency rates were going up around the universe. It was difficult to keep up with. Which is why you never broached the subject with him.
It wasn’t your place to pry. 
Not with him anyway...he was silent, reserved, it was like he didn’t trust you. Yet you of all people understood that, you understood that it took you a long time to trust him. Like really trust him with your life...rather than just your role to him as the child’s ‘caretaker’.
It blind sided you when you realized how deeply you cared for him...Mando. 
Gods, you didn’t even know his own name.
“My creed. I can’t...eat in front of other people.” This was a touchy subject. You knew that. But you underestimated how stressed out he really was. He wasn’t wounded...he was just bone tired.
“Well, I can make some food-”
“DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND? I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP!”
“...ok.”
He hadn’t seethed the words out from his teeth as loud as you had heard them.
But...the look on your face as your eyes met the floor, undoubtedly filling with tears.
It cut Din deeper than any vibroblade could.
---
“I don’t know what to do Ad’ika. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t dream without thinking of her. And now...now I’ve gone and done the worst thing I could ever do to her...I hurt her without even touching her.” 
The sigh was small before it reached a crescendo out of his lungs, erupting out of his head like it was a volcano. That was what it felt like to breath again. When he was alone Mando had the freedom to take his helmet off on the Crest as much as he wanted. As long as he was in space, his privacy was unlimited. 
But that all changed when he met the child and then eventually...you. 
“I just wish...I knew more about her. Knew her likes and dislikes. Knew what her favorite food was. What makes her laugh...her favorite kind of music…I’ve gone and ruined everything haven’t I? Not just for me but for you too. I can’t just let her go...and if she does leave I can’t just hire someone new. She’s...really burrowed her way into my heart, little one.” 
Din’s soliloquy fell into the little creature’s ears like a fly trap. The child knew his father was hurting, he could feel it, not just in the force but in his tiny little heart. It was the kind of hurt he couldn’t fix with his own hands...he had to find another way. He had to make his buir feel whole again. 
Determined, the little creature climbed onto his father’s chest as his breathing started to relax. 
“Ad’ika, I’m not in the mood for games right now…” The dark circles under Din’s eyes became more and more pronounced as the hours dragged on. The good thing about being a father now meant that he had someone to talk to at any time if the baby was also struggling to sleep. 
Din never thought he would become a father. He thought a lot of things wouldn’t happen before he died a warrior’s death. He definitely thought he wasn’t going to fall in love too...but that happened before he could even think about it. 
Multiple chirps and coos echoed from the child’s lips as Din continued to massage his temples. 
“Ad’ika did you not hear me?”
Opening his eyes, Din found himself utterly and completely alone. 
“Ad’ika!” Startling upwards, he launched himself onto his bear feet as he searched the dark air around him for either you or the child. 
“Y/N!” Screaming your name into the void he began to run, not caring about his bare feet, his sleep wear or the fact his helmet was completely missing. 
A fact that had not gone unnoticed by the child.
---
Abruptly, Din was launched into the scorching blazes of a desert sun. 
The sand hurt as he fell down the dune he wasn’t gonna lie. 
But in some weird, twisted way, it felt good to feel the sand under his skin. 
“Girl! You get back here! Wretched creature!!” The sudden yelling came from a small village not too far away from where Din stood. Flinching, he hid behind the sand. He felt naked without the beskar. It was almost embarrassing how scared he was right now.
Peering over the sandy hill, he saw a young child with Y/H/C hair, rosy cheeks and bare feet run straight towards him. Not considering the strange events that had occurred before this, Din, although he’d never admit it, attempted to run away from her. Except, when she caught up to him, she ran right through him.
Din couldn’t decide whether this was some wicked form of a dream or that he had died and was now wandering the nearest planet.
Oh Maker, what if he was dead? There was no way you could pilot the Crest on your own...and what about Ad’ika.
That was when he heard it, the baby cooing in his head. 
“Ad’ika?”
That’s when it clicked. He wasn’t in some hellish figment of his imagination or dead…the child had used his powers to do this since he wasn’t wearing his helmet. But then again...where the hell was he?
“Y/N! YOU UGLY THING! IF YOU DON’T GET BACK HERE I WILL THROTTLE YOU!”
Whipping around to face you, all Din was met with was the familiar sight of you hunched over yourself, right near his feet. Crying. This had happened before but…not like this.
Was this...one of your memories? 
Oh no...Din was in your head. Somehow, the baby had managed it.
“I DON’T WANT TO GO BACK THERE! AND YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!” Din turned back to face the furious woman, she looked like a cursed school teacher, her hair flying all over the place. But what stood out to him were the nail marks on her cheek. 
He couldn’t picture it but somehow this woman had distressed you so much you had decided to hit her. The next thing that happened confirmed it…
SLAP!
“YOU EVER HIT ME LIKE THAT AGAIN GIRL I WON’T BE AS CONSIDERATE TO KEEP YOU!”
Keep you? Oh...you weren’t a school child.
You were a slave.
That’s why when you had first met you had been so skittish, so fearful...and yet so brave. 
Somehow it all made sense.
Din couldn’t help reaching out for you as your head sagged on your shoulders, a purple and pink mark blossoming across the side of your face as the evil woman clawed her hand around your wrist. 
“You will make my children their supper and you will go straight into the cellar with no dinner. Do you understand me child?” She spoke with a gentle tone...yet the venom dripped from it with the force of a thousand sandcrawlers. 
“...Yes Ma’am.” 
Your submission startled Din. Then again, you were only a child, and if Din hadn’t been taken in by the Mandalorians at your age...who knows what could’ve happened to him. From what little he had heard about of slaves...they didn’t often make it to see their teenage years. 
Yet, somehow you did. 
Din couldn’t help being grateful that, from what he could see of you, those were the only things that cruel woman had done to you. 
---
Stumbling into a new landscape, Din shook his head in an attempt to gain his bearings. 
“Look Y/N, it’ll be a quick job, all you have to do is listen to what I say and we’ll be gone as soon as you can say ‘bantha fodder’.” 
This was a new voice. A teenager from what Din could guess. They spoke in a kind tone but at the sound of the way they said your name he couldn’t help the feeling of jealousy welling up in him. 
Shaking his head once again, he looking around the jungle planet to spot you and this person.
“Iarren...I don’t know about this. I know we’ve done stuff like this before but we’re not resistance fighters. Those are imperial troops. What if...what if one of us doesn’t come back from this?” 
A much older version of you appeared like a vision from behind the leaves. You were much older now, Din could only guess that you had only just recently come of age. You had grown into your features well. He could see more of the fierce woman he had come to know. 
“Babe, you worry too much. Imps are stupid, plus what we are after is right next to the door practically. If you’re so concerned you can cover me from here and I’ll be right back to kiss your worries away...alright?” Din could tell just by the way you shared a glance that you were absolutely taken with this person. 
In a way Din respected them...but in the back of his mind he knew there was a reason he was seeing this particular memory. Bracing himself, he could only watch as you shared a tender kiss with your lover. It shocked him how passionate you were with them. Gripping them like a vice as if you knew what was about to happen. 
Din’s heart broke for you as he watched you sob over their corpse later that very night. 
---
“Cyare?” 
Din thought he had finally made it back to you just by looking upon your face. Much older now, age similar to the one when he met you. Looking around, he realized...this was that exact moment. 
“Excuse me.” 
Now Din knew for certain he wasn’t dreaming...there was no way he could dream about himself in this much detail. It was like having an out of body experience...in a way he was.
“Can I help you?” The first thing Din noticed about you was that you were too kind to have been on a planet as rough as Andos. Imps were everywhere nowadays and it was the one time Din had to wear a proper cloak so no one could spot him. 
“I need to hire someone to help me with a child. I was wondering if you could help me find a person that is trustworthy?” Being a Mandalorian was so difficult that day. Meeting you made him realize that you were kind enough to suggest yourself, admitting that you were tired of the constant trail of dead bodies this planet had shown you. He flinched when you mentioned the blood you found leaking through your front door one morning. 
He accepted your offer immediately. Offering payment for a job you had been doing for years without none. 
Din had no clue he had saved you from slavery for the second time in your life. 
---
Waking up in a cold sweat, Din knew this was reality. 
All your memories, it felt like a dream. 
That’s when he felt his son sag against his chest, heaving long tired breaths. 
Din was scared he had over exerted himself. 
“Ad’ika...why did you do that?” 
All the child could do was reach for his father’s face, bringing it towards his own. 
“Da.” This one, simple word, brought Din’s walls crumbling to the ground as he began to cry. 
“Thank you...Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum Ad’ika.”
The overwhelming joy he felt caused his thoughts about you to skyrocket. He knew he had to share this information with you. 
Startling from his bed, Din shot out of his room with the sleepy child tucked against his vest clad chest. 
“Y/N! Cyare come quick!” 
The sound of his unmodulated voice scared you more than anything else he had said to you that night. What you didn’t expect when you opened the door was to find a complete stranger shouting your name. 
“WHO ARE YOU? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH DIN?!” You practically screamed, ready to throw hands with this strange practically half naked man that had appeared before you.
That’s what you spotted the child in his arms, half asleep and staring admiringly up at the man. 
“...He called me da. I...had to share that with you Cyare...I didn’t even think twice about my creed.” The watery smile he gave you was enough to convince you that the man before you was none other than Din Djarin himself. 
“...just like that? You...you threw away your creed, being a Mandalorian...just so you could tell me he spoke his first word?” Din thought you were upset, in a way you were. 
When he turned to find your eyes filled with the happiest of tears he had ever seen, the overwhelming urge to kiss you kept slamming into his head, bleeding through his heart. 
“Cyare...Father’s always share the first word their child speaks with their Mother.” 
When you began to sob, Din refused to hold himself back as he curled his fingers through your hair, cradling your son between the two of you as he tilted your head back. 
As his lips brushed against yours for the first time…
You both had never felt so free.
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thekisforkeats · 3 years
Text
A Song of Praise Upon Your Lips (Let all the Broken Pieces Shine, Chapter Two)
Info: The Magnus Archives, D&D AU. JonMartin in this chapter, more ships to be added. Rated T. Post-Canon. Jon is amab nb and uses they/them, Martin is a trans guy.
CWs: Darkness, falling, spiders, manipulation, webs, implied body horror, character death (mentioned), alternate realities, character injury, fire.
Summary: In which Martin thwarts the Web's plan for good and all (or so one hopes) through the power of poetry. (The poem is the first and last stanzas of Kahlil Gibran's "On Love," from The Prophet, published 1923.)
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Previous Chapter
They are falling through endless darkness. Martin holds Jon close to him and wonders how much longer this will take. Will he be in this darkness forever? Would it be so bad if he was?
“Time to let go,” a voice whispers. Feminine, soft, almost motherly, but threaded through with something like malice. “He is lost to you. Time to come back to me, my little spiderling.”
“No,” Martin whispers into the darkness. “No, I won’t let go. One way or another, together. That’s what we said.”
He can hear irritation in the voice. “Where he goes, you cannot follow. Where you belong, he cannot exist. You made your choices long ago. You cannot undo them now.”
“I’m not letting you take him from me!” Martin shouts it this time, and tightens his hold on Jon’s body. “I don’t care if I die, I’m not letting go!”
“Silly, stubborn spiderling. You are mine. You have served my purpose, all these years, and served it well. Do you truly think it was any coincidence you came to be by the Archivist’s side? The Whispered One, that you called Beholding… the power that should have gone to the Lone Wolf, that you called Forsaken… they may have tried to claim you, but you have always been mine, little spiderling, however much you twist and turn and try to deny the truth of what you are.”
Martin can see the speaker in his mind, even if his eyes are shut: from the waist up, a woman with ebony skin and white hair, but from the waist down… a spider. It’s impossible, he knows it’s impossible, because she’s from a game. And yet, still, he knows her name, and he speaks it into the void:
“Lolth?!”
A soft chuckle. “Yes, spiderling. I am the one that set you in that world, set you on the path to meet the Archivist. I am the one who ensured you would connect with the power of the Spider there, a power that is mine even if she did not know that fact until she has finally come falling down through the void between realms. She will add to my power, and she will become me and I will become her, and together we will usurp the other gods that would keep us trapped. We will spread our Web across every realm and every sphere.”
The woman seems to hold out a hand to Martin. “Come, spiderling. It is time to come home to me. I am your true mother, and I will love you better than your mortal mother ever did.”
“No,” Martin whispers again, horrified. This can’t be real. This is a horrific dream. Lolth is a fictional being that he has always been alternately repulsed by and fascinated with. She is a deity from a roleplaying game that he had stopped playing years ago, though largely for lack of anyone who would play with him.
And yet, it makes a horrendously cruel sort of sense. The Mother of Puppets has always reminded him of Lolth, a little bit. He thinks of Annabelle Cane and her desire to fill Martin with spiders. He thinks of his own tendencies to manipulate, his own love of spiders, of webs, even of fiber arts, of tying things in knots to keep them where he wants them to be. Of the way he spoke to the tape recorders the same way he spoke to the spiders he ran into--as pets, almost. As sweet, cute things to be loved.
He has known, for a long time, that if the Lonely had not claimed him the Web might have. He’s had dreams of turning into a spider, dreams he woke from screaming. Even if he likes spiders, he doesn’t want to become one. Sometimes he thinks he went to Peter as much to escape the fate he saw in his dreams as anything else he’s told himself.
A part of him wants to take the offered hand. To let go of Jon, and move forward to his own destiny.
But they made a promise. One way or another, together. It makes the decision easy.
Martin swallows. “No,” he says more firmly, opening his eyes. Lolth is there, only a dim outline in the darkness, but he can see her, vaguely. “I will not go with you. I’ve made my choice, I saw my Domain, and it wasn’t full of spiders.”
Anger flashes in Lolth’s dark eyes. “Foolish boy. Do you think I can’t make you come with me?”
“I think…” Martin pulls Jon closer to him. “I think you can, sure, but I also think…” He gathers himself, takes a deep breath, then presses on, “I think if it were that easy, you’d have done it already instead of trying to make me come willingly.” He’s thinking faster than he ever has in his life. There were no powers of good in their world, no Hope or Courage or Love to balance the Fears. But if this truly is Lolth, and not just his brain giving form to the Web, then maybe there’s a chance. Maybe there are good powers to draw on, out here in the dark between realities.
Maybe, if he tries hard enough, he can get one of them to listen.
“I never would have served the Eye, or the Lonely, or the Web, if I’d had another choice,” Martin spits into the void. “I would serve Beauty. I would serve Truth. I would serve Love.” He swallows, glares at the darkness, at the form he can just barely make out as his eyes adjust. “And you know that, don’t you? Wherever we’re going… those things have power, and you want me to come to you before I get beyond your reach.”
Lolth scoffs. “You would leave me, and go back to the Protector? He will not take you back, not in that form.”
Martin grinds his teeth. “I don’t care who, or… what it is I serve, I just know that it isn’t you,” he growls.
Martin feels a warmth building in him, a heat, a flame. It’s lighting up the darkness, letting him see Jon’s lifeless body and the tapes both. It lets him see Lolth, hovering out there in the void, lets him see that the tapes are connected to her. If he lets go, she’ll get Jon. That’s what this is about, he realizes. Whether or not she wants him, she definitely wants Jon, and Martin is keeping her from her prize.
“You don’t care about me,” he whispers. “You just want Jon’s body, to fuel whatever ritual you’re trying to do.”
Lolth almost smirks. “I would prefer to have you both, but I will settle for the Archivist alone. We made him, my sister and I, which means that I made him, because she is becoming me even as we speak. You have resisted me in the past, but the Archivist…? He is already mine. Has always been mine. Will always be mine.”
Martin glares at the spider-woman. “I’m not going anywhere Jon doesn’t go, and since I’m not letting you have him… I guess you don’t get either of us.”
“And how, exactly, do you intend to stop me, spiderling?”
There’s a tug on the tapes, and Martin screams as Jon is half-wrenched out of his arms. He clings, desperately, grabbing at the tapes, screaming louder as they cut into his hands. “No! No! Please, not now, I can’t lose him now!”
“Too late, spiderling.” Lolth’s smile is cruel. “It was always too late.”
He has to do something. He has to stop this. The heat and warmth and light within him needs somewhere to go, but it can’t just come out through his hands. He needs words, that’s who he is, who he’s always been. But what words? What words would help here?
It’s not Keats that comes to him, because it’s never Keats that comes to him in the moments of pain and terror--Keats is for joy, and longing, and elegiac melancholy in the rain. It’s Kahlil Gibran, whose words sustained him through Jon’s coma and his mother’s death and working for Peter Lukas. A poem about love, about divine love. He speaks the words into the void like a prayer, because whatever he’s doing is as much a prayer and a wish as anything else.
When love beckons to you, follow him, Though his ways are hard and steep. And when his wings enfold you yield to him, Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And when he speaks to you believe in him, Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.
As he speaks, the fire grows. Not the cold fire of the Desolation but something warm and kind and loving. It fills him with joy, so that despite the nature of the words (For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning) his fear is banished and his terror soothed. His grip on the tapes surrounding Jon strengthens, and he begins to haul his lover back to him, away from the spider-woman.
Something like fear flickers in the goddess’ eyes. She says something, a negation, a denial, but Martin cannot hear her, because he is shouting now, stanza after stanza, the words and the prayer fueling the light and warmth within. He clutches Jon to his chest and grips the tape tightly.
He is intending to rip the tape binding Jon, to break the Web and free them both, but as he thinks of doing this, the flame within bursts out through his hand and burns through the tape surrounding Jon. The fire leaves both him and his lover untouched, but it consumes the tape. Martin can see the flame shooting off in every direction, unraveling the Web that Lolth had so carefully woven.
“No!” The goddess’ scream is so loud that Martin almost covers his ears, but that would mean letting go of Jon and that’s not happening. “No! I will not let you undo my work!” She lunges forward at them, to grab them both, or maybe just to try one last time to wrench Jon from Martin’s grasp.
Martin is surrounded by flame now, and he has a vague sense that his hair, long-since touched white by the Lonely, has abruptly shifted back to red and might actually just literally be fire right now. He holds out his hand, focusing not on Lolth but on the space around them. He has to keep them safe from her. He has reached the last stanza of the poem.
Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself. But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires: To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To know the pain of too much tenderness. To be wounded by your own understanding of love; And to bleed willingly and joyfully. To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving; To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy; To return home at eventide with gratitude; And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.
The darkness around them alights, a sphere of flame that surrounds and protects Martin and Jon both. Lolth hits the fire as she lunges, and screams again. Then she fades back into the blackness.
“She cannot protect you for long, spiderling,” Lolth hisses. “I will come for you. I will always come for you.”
And then she’s gone, and they’re falling, falling, falling. Endlessly and forever, falling into the void.
The fire around them fades, and they’re in the dark again. Martin thinks that maybe he used the last of his energy, but even if all he did was to stop the Web’s plan… maybe that’s enough, in the end.
He’s fading, his consciousness dimming. He’s barely aware of Jon’s body in his arms. He takes a moment to hold Jon close and kiss the dark skin of his lover’s brow, cold despite the flame that had surrounded them not long before.
“I love you, Jon,” Martin whispers, “and I’m never, ever letting you go. Never again.”
And then everything fades into blackness. If this is death, he thinks, it’s not so bad.
Next Chapter
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kittentaegu · 4 years
Text
Image, Bad Boy pt 14
Jungkook x Y/n
Genre: Bad boy au; Smut, angst, fluff
Summary: After Jungkook left you broken in the hall, there’s no one to help you pick up the pieces of yourself. What’s the point without him, anyway? Weeks go on and the heartache consumes you and is you know.
Warnings: Language. There’s uh...a lot of things I should put here..but it’d affect how you read it, so...read at your own risk, I guess...??
a/n: i’ll say it on here as well, just in case; there’s about 18 parts in this story.
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   Staring down at your phone, your somber frown deepened. The blank screen void of any messages or potential missed calls was exactly what you’d expected as you checked it for the umpteenth time that day alone. But it had long become habit by now. There were no texts. No calls. Nothing from Jungkook. It was like he’d up and disappeared. It didn’t matter how many times you attempted to contact him, he never replied, never answered. Not once.
   Your heart was shattered. The emotional pain of finding what you had with him only to lose it the moment he decided to walk out of your life caused you physical pain as well. The ache in your body wouldn’t stop. The heavy, deep ache in your chest never left you. Not even for one second. Without Jungkook, you felt as if your entire existence was a sick joke; that your future had crumbled into ruble.
   You knew it would end like this. You knew. But knowing and actually experiencing the aftermath were two different things. There wasn’t anything that could have prepared you for this pain.
   On top of losing Jungkook, you lost your new friends as well. None of them replied to you when you pathetically attempted to reach him through them. Not even Taehyung. You’d lost all you held dear in one fell swoop, and ultimately it was your own fault. Because you allowed yourself to get close to him. To them. When all along he was always going to break things off.
   And why would it be any different after the time you spent together? You weren’t so special; certainly not to him either. You’d fooled yourself into thinking that maybe...just maybe he might come to care for you enough to want to keep you in his life. But you weren’t special. Of course you weren’t; you’d never been special.
   Three weeks had passed by since Jungkook’s unfair expulsion; and it felt like an eternity. The entire time you did all you could to prove how wrong everyone was. About you, and about Jungkook.
   The school had called your parents after your “disruption” the day he was kicked out. When they learned of your behavior, they not only kept the locks and nails in place...they locked you in any time you weren’t at school. You couldn’t eat unless they brought food to you - which they didn’t always do, and when they did it was often barely enough to keep you alive. There wasn’t a way to go buy the clothes you wanted either, so you modified the ones you already had.
   At school, your new can’t-give-a-fuck attitude garnered many stares. It wasn’t easy to get used to at first, but eventually you were able to ignore everyone and pretend they weren’t all staring at you like you’ve lost your mind.
   It wasn’t your mind you’d lost. Oh no. It was more so that you found your heart and way in life; who you wanted to be. No, it wasn’t your mind you’d lost. It was Jungkook. And that was every bit as bad to you as if you had lost your mind.
   No one dared approach you; whether in class, in the halls, or in the cafeteria. It was as if they all thought you had something catching and didn’t want it. Or maybe it was the cold glares you gave whenever anyone tried to talk to you. It wasn’t your fault though. You’d lost Jungkook and it had devastated you to the point that the whole world looked bleak to you. On top of that, they often brought him up, asking things that were none of their business. Worse when they pretended to care about him, or you. You knew they didn’t. They were nosy, that’s all.
   You knew what you needed to do to clear Jungkook’s name, but you tried other avenues first. When they all fell through, you made plans to go through with what you knew all along.
   Too bad you kept chickening out. Every day you brought cans of spray paint along with you in your backpack. And every day you lost your nerve the second there was even a small crowd.
   More days past and the ache inside you was worsening. No matter what you did or where you looked you thought of Jungkook. And thanks to your dumb move of bringing him to your house and fucking him in your bed; there was no escaping memories and thoughts of him there, either.
   The first few days his scent lingered on your bed. It was something you were both grateful for and quietly lamented all the same. If you closed your eyes, for a few minutes at least, you could pretend you were still in each others lives. You comforted yourself with false scenarios in your head while breathing in his scent; it was the only way you could get remotely any sleep.
   Not only had his scent been left behind the day he’d been there with you; he’d accidentally left his jacket in the rush to get out of the house to avoid getting caught. You found it the day after he’d left you in the hall. When you spotted it you broke down all over again, crumpling to the floor before reaching out to pick it up. Shaking, aching, longing arms held it to your chest for what felt like hours as you sobbed freely once again. When you’d calmed down a bit, you couldn’t resist smelling at it, pressing it harder against your face to breathe in the stronger concentration of his scent. He’d worn it almost every day since the very first day you’d watched him stroll in through the school’s front doors. His scent was embedded deeply in it. A grace. A gift. A curse. Because it was all you had of him now. The only tangible thing to remind you that he existed and that you had in fact been together in some form.
   At first you tried to preserve his scent by carefully placing it in a bag and tying the opening off to keep his scent locked within it. It took exactly five days before you broke down and pulled it out to drape it over you as you tried to sleep. Two days after that, you were wearing it to school. Even though you wore it constantly and slept with it curling around you or in your arms, it retained his scent well. Any time you wanted - or more like couldn’t help yourself - you could sniff at it and get a fairly good hit of his scent. It was a habit now. An addiction to the way he smelled; somehow even more powerful now that he was gone out of your life.
   Again, today, you were wearing his jacket at school. The sight of it drew more attention, but you didn’t care. That’s not why you were wearing it to begin with. You just wanted some part of Jungkook with you. And at school.
   Because of the fact that you had his jacket on, the girls that he’d fucked before things had started with you were glaring even harder whenever you were within eyesight. They seemed to loath you collectively, not shy on making it clear they not only blamed you for not getting his dick anymore, but also that you were somehow the reason he wasn’t at school anymore. Well they were right there. It was your fault.
   The glares, the shoulder knocks, even the horrible comments, you could put up with. But last week it had reached a high you never wanted to reach.
   Scabs covered the once broken skin on your face and the bruises were now turning more yellow instead of the blue and purple of the first few days. They were more numb pain, mere annoyances this week.
   Thinking back over what had happened, a faint, numb smile made a brief appearance on your face. A couple of the girls had teamed up to fight you and no matter how you tried to walk away, they weren’t going to let you. The shock on their faces when you pulled out a few of the moves Jimin had eagerly taught you was almost worth it. Almost. So too was it when you leveled a punch to one of the girl’s faces. The very punch Jungkook himself had taught you for self defense.
   Getting called to the office and given detention would have been worth it to you. The school calling your parents yet again, however, was not. It lost you your car and you were forced to ride to and from school with your mother. Each trek to and from school was filled with nothing but her lectures and disappointed looks. Her guilt tripping and shaming. Sometimes even her shouting at you. Mostly you stayed silent. Why argue or defend yourself when you were marking off the days of your calendar until you could get free.
   Sure, technically you’re eighteen and could just leave. But where would you go? You couldn’t turn to Jungkook or his friends. And the money you’d tried to save up wasn’t enough if you were to pay for rent, gas to and from not only school but also a new job, plus food. Of course that’s if you could find a new job. And you’d been trying to find one.
   No, you figured you had to do your best to be strong enough to endure this until you graduated. Then, when you went off to college, you could be gone for good; off to live some sort of life. Though without Jungkook it seemed harsh and bleak ahead. Still, it was tons better than the life you were currently “living”.
“Y/n, how are you doing today?” a kind voice asked from behind you. It was the girl from your class that had been kind to you from time to time.
“My face doesn’t hurt as much and my body isn’t as sore.” you replied in as normal a voice as you could manage. But it still sounded off. It was the only thing you could say. It was the only thing getting better.
“Your face seems to be healing nicely, the bruises are almost gone.” she noted.
   You shrugged and looked down the hall absentmindedly.
   Spotting your ex preening with his good arm and hand as he talked himself up to a small crowd sent a chill down your spine. Most still thought he was all that. His life was continuing on with only the slightest disruption and mildest risk of loosing his scholarship, and where was Jungkook? Expelled because he was covering for you. You, who had tried to take things out on your ex, who had deserved it. Who had done more damage to you than you could ever inflict on him.
“Are you?” the girl next to you asked again. You’d entirely missed what she’d been asking.
“Hm?” you asked in turn, distracted, your eyes set on your ex. Several lockers down from his own.
“I’ve got to go do something, hold that thought.” you said to her without giving her time to ask again, nor ask what you were about to do.
   You waltzed over towards your ex’ locker, making a huge display of it as you unzipped your backpack and pulled out the spray paint. He was yet aware of your proximity to it, and he wouldn’t when he was getting so much attention at the moment.
   The crowd had started with a few students pausing in shock as they watched you shake a can in each hand. It grew as you began spraying one at a time, spelling out obscenities and accusations. And at the bottom, you added a “see? wasn’t Jungkook.” and signed it. At that precise minute you didn’t care what happened to you after this. As long as it helped clear Jungkook’s name.
   Gasps trickled around the crowd as they read what you’d sprayed on the locker, muttering spreading through it like a wave.
“Hey! What are you doing! Bitch!” your ex shouted as he made his way through the crowd. “Someone stop that bitch from destroying my locker!”
“What’s going on here? What’s this commotion about?” Everyone froze at the sound of your principle’s voice.
   She stepped into the semicircle the crowd had formed around you and the locker and folded her arms, tapping a perfectly manicured nails on her own arm.
“My office.” she ordered, pointing to you standing there with the cans in your hands, and then to your ex.
“But,” he whined it that grating way you loathed, “I didn’t do this!”
“Now!” she bellowed before turning on her heels.
   In her office, you sat there as she stared at you. She wasn’t shocked. She didn’t seem disappointed. She just wanted to know why you’d done it in the first place.
“Tell me...why is there paint on one of my lockers. Again.”
   Clearing your throat, you sat up a little straighter.
“I did it.”
“I’m aware. I want to know why.” her brow raised in that way that had a way of making you gulp in inferiority.
“First, I want to state that it was me both times. I am the one that sprayed paint on the locker.”
“I was informed that you admitted to this earlier; however it was described in a way that made it seem as if you’d confessed only to clear up Mr. Jeon’s name. Is it true, and is this another attempt at clearing his name?”
“No, Ma’am. I did it to get back at him,” you pointed at your ex without so much as a glance, “and Mr. Jeon was accused and wrongfully punished in turn.”
“And the second time?”
   This time you paused longer. Suddenly it was hard to swallow. Hard to breathe. With him sitting there in the room, how could you tell your principle what he’d done to you? But you had to try. You’d held your tongue too long and downplayed what he’d done to you, even to yourself.
“Because he assaulted me in the janitor’s closet.” you whispered.
   A pen could drop, the room was so silent.
“What?! This it outrageous!” your ex shouted, a little too delayed. “She’s wanting to get back at me because I dumped her! She-she’s the one that broke my arm with the janitor’s hammer! I tried to tell the vice principle that it was her but he didn’t believe me!”
“The janitor’s hammer, you say?” You couldn’t believe it, nearly sighing in relief. She’d picked up on the right words. The slip of his own tongue.
“Well, I, uhm...the thing is...” he tried to cover.
“Why did she need to use the hammer in the first place? Did you assault her in the janitor’s closet?”
“It was nothing! We were going to make out and she chickened out!”
“No means no, either way. And that’s not the story from both sides.” She looked back to you, sympathetic now. “When he’s in the next room, tell me all you can and I’ll listen to you.”
“What?!” your ex exploded.
“Wait in the vice principles office. And if you try to wander off, we will track you down.”
“Unbelievable.” he muttered as he shoved up to his feet. He stormed off and slammed the door shut on his way out.
“Now...” she spoke with a gentler voice, “What happened?”
   It took half an hour. Half an hour to explain what had happened with your ex. You told her about a few of the things he’d done in the past when you were together, and that you feared he was about to do more and that you’d reacted on instinct to defend yourself. At first you weren’t sure if she would believe you. If your ex would get punished at all, or if you would. Afterward, she called in witnesses to your little tagging spree earlier, one of them happening to be the girl you were talking with just before.
   Apparently, when she’d backed you up weeks prior about the incident with breaking your ex’ arm; she’d witnessed more than she’d said. When the matter was brought up on some of the words you’d used to paint across his locker, the girl had informed the principle that she had not only witnessed you trying several times to get away from your ex, but had also spotted him trying to pull you somewhere against your will. That information coupled with what you’d said, and the slip on your ex’ part, resulted in his suspension. There wasn’t more proof, and you didn’t press charges. You knew with his broken arm and suspension he probably would lose his scholarship and that was enough justice to you.
   When all was said and done, your principle called you back into her office.
“Ms. Y/LN, please take a seat again.”
   You sat quickly, bracing yourself for impact. You’d broken school rules and just knew you were about to get in huge trouble for it.
“As you can guess, what you’ve done is not something we can disregard and look the other way. Because of your excellent record and exemplary example of a model student these many years at our school, we are going to settle on a three week suspension as punishment for your actions.”
   You sunk into the chair. It was better than you were expecting, and yet, still somehow worse.
“On top of the suspension, you are to pay for the damage done to the locker and the cost of repairs to the locker for each time you painted on it and for the damage done to the walls and lockers from a few weeks ago as well.”
   You sat there pathetically, silently groaning. You deserved this for going about things the way you had. The worst part wasn’t the suspension, however. It was the money you’d have to shell out of pocket to pay for all of this. That meant even less to help you get a start out on your own.
“Are we clear?” she asked, raising her brow expectantly.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
   She was quiet for a long minute and you assumed she was done and wanted you to leave. You started to ready yourself to stand when she held up a finger.
“Just a minute. There’s one more thing we need to go over.”
   Blinking, you had no idea what else there might be.
   She folded her hands on top her desk and looked at you like it was something hard to say.
“Due to the confession and evidence that you were the one that did damage to both the locker and caused bodily harm to a fellow student...we’ve decided to reinstate Mr. Jeon.”
   Shock washed your face clean of anything else for a long moment, in which you didn’t breathe. Had you heard right?
“Thank you! Thank you, Ma’am!” you exclaimed with exuberance, beaming at her as you jumped to your feet.
   Jungkook would get his one dream. He could graduate! He might not want anything to do with you ever again, and you weren’t fool enough to think that this might change his mind...but that didn’t matter. You didn’t care, as long as he got to graduate. You could live with seeing him at school, though it would ache in a new way. You would get through it and let him go. Just as long as he walked across that stage and received his diploma.
“Hold on...there’s a matter to discuss with you in regard to his reinstatement.”
   The smile on your face faltered as you stared down at her.
“We have been unsuccessful in contacting Mr. Jeon, or his guardians.”
“What does that mean...?” you dumbly asked, your eyes glossing over.
“We have tried every number we could find in his contacts and cannot get a hold of him, nor those that might be able to reach him. Except for one person.”
“Oh?” you asked with a growing hope.
“You.”
“Oh.” you muttered, dejected.
“We are aware of your relationship,” You winced at the word; because that’s not what you’d ever had with him, and you had nothing at all with him now, “with Mr. Jeon.” Another wince. “The only way we will reinstate him is if he is here at school come Monday, ready when the doors are unlocked. He needs to fill out a form and then attend every class. He mustn’t skip school nor any class the rest of the school year. Unless he provides a dr.’s or guardian’s note explaining a valid reason for his absence. And about his grades...they need to improve or he might not graduate.”
“He will! He’ll do all of that!” you excitedly rushed to say, getting ahead of yourself. Calming, you bit back tears form forming. That’s if someone could get a hold of him to tell him.
“Then I can trust that you’ll get in contact with him to inform him of his impending reinstatement?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” you answered, more subdued. You had no idea how, but you were going to get this news to him. One way. Or another.
“You may leave, then.” she said, gesturing towards the door.
“Thank you, Ma’am.” you quietly said, and then hurried to your last class of the day.
   By the time the clock was ticking down the last minute until you could get out of school for the weekend, your leg was bouncing so hard you dry laughed to yourself in your head that it might bounce right off. You laughed...until you recalled Jungkook making that joke a couple months back when you’d done something similar.
   The moment you could, you jumped up and made a run for it to wait for your mother. You’d been texting Jungkook ever since you found out about his reinstatement, and he’d still not replied. You were worried he’d muted your number and instructed the others to do the same. Not even Jin or Yoongi replied to this news when you’d text them about it in hopes of them passing it on to him.
   You knew you needed to do something more. Something drastic. It was the only way.
   With resolve, you pivoted to go back inside the school to catch an old acquaintance at his locker. Hoon had always been kind when you were both on the student council. One time you’d given him a ride in your car to his workplace because his car was out of commission. He’d offered to return the favor; but seeing as when your car did wind up in the shop you were getting rides from Jungkook, you’d not needed the return favor. This just might work, however!
“Hoon!” you called on approach.
   Upon hearing your voice he flinched and then looked up from his backpack with a weary glance.
“What is it, Y/n?” he reluctantly asked.
“You remember that time I gave you a ride to work and you said if I ever needed the same in return?”
“Yeah...?” he said after a long pause, like he wasn’t sure he liked where this was going.
“Well, I really need a ride to my house, and I was hoping you could make us even.”
“Oh...” he quietly replied, pushing his glasses back up his nose, “Well...I guess I could. But don’t you have your boyfriend for that?”
“Boyfriend?” you asked, confused.
“Jungkook.” he said as if it were the most obvious thing.
“Oh....uhm...well that’s...complicated.”
   He glanced at what you were wearing and lingered on the jacket. Jungkook’s jacket.
“Yeah, sure...I bet.” He closed his locker and zipped up his backpack. For a long minute he stared at his bag, as if trying to find any excuse to get out of this while reasoning that it was to even things out. He let out a slow sigh, tipping his head back as he closed his eyes in resignation.
“Fine. I’ll drive you.” He turned to you and leveled a look at you. “But this makes us even. You can get your boyfriend to pick you up; student or not he could at least do that.”
“He would if he could.” you mildly fibbed, smiling as brightly as you could manage. By the expression Hoon had on his face, you were sure you weren’t pulling it off correctly.
“Hurry your ass; I’ve got oboe practice.”
“Sure thing, Hoon!” you enthused, bumping your shoulder into his playfully like you used to. He stopped to eye you and then rolled his eyes. He used to love when you’d do that.
“Yeah, whatever.” he replied, shouldering his backpack. “Does that again when she has a boyfriend?” he muttered under his breath, unaware that you could still hear him. “No, sure, not when she’s asked to a recital where you’re the highlight. Doesn’t want a thing to do with you out of school. Guess we all know her type now.”
“What was that?” you asked, playing innocent.
“N-nothing!” he quickly responded, flustered. “We, uhm...should get going faster. Don’t want to have to skip oboe practice...!” he tried to cover, laughing nervously a moment later.
“Yeah, that would be a travesty.” you said, the corner of your mouth twitching into a smile.
“Yes, it would.” he said all too serious, and you suppressed the laugh that was trying to come out. He was actually that serious about the oboe?
   After asking Hoon to floor it one too many times and anxiously shouting for him to turn when it was time to turn; you were quite certain he was never going to be willing to drive you anywhere ever again. Even then, when you’d hopped out of his car to dash to your front door, he’d leaned out the window to wave enthusiastically at your retreating figure.
“It was nice driving you-”
“Thanks again, Hoon!” you shouted over your shoulder, interrupting him, and waved erratically back at him before hurrying through the front door.
   Once inside, you hurried to your room. You threw a few things in a spare backpack - the one you used when you used to spend time at Jin’s - and shoved as much as you could in it in the shortest time possible. You expected this would get you in serious trouble and you wanted to be as prepared as possible to sleep at a friend’s house. That is. If you had any that would allow you to. They’d all abandoned you. Whether it was before, during, or after Jungkook. They were all gone now. You didn’t care anyway. Even if you had to sleep on a bench or find some place to crash. You were doing this.
   With the backpack stuffed with as much as your frantic hands could get crammed inside it, you ran down the hall, bouncing off the walls a few times in your hast. Your mom was probably on her way by now. She would have rolled up to pick you up at school and seen you weren’t there waiting like you were instructed to. Would have blown up your phone screaming over text at you; left likewise messages in your voicemail. You didn’t dare check your phone to see if you were right. You’d put your phone on silent for a reason.
   You made a mad dash for the kitchen, all the while this frantic flight reminding you of the one time you and Jungkook had taken this very path towards the kitchen in just as much of a panic. This time you made a sharp turn and grabbed the handle for the correct cabinet you needed. There was the item you needed...Your fingers quickly coiled around the handle of the sledgehammer and then you took off for the study. There was no hesitation as you slammed it down on the edge of the desk draw, desperate to get it open. The keys to your car had been locked in this draw for weeks, and you were going to get them at all cost.
   Finally the draw splintered open and you carefully reached in and snatched up your keys as fast as you could. You could swear you heard your moms car speeding up along the road towards the house, so you booked it to the garage where your car was parked and got in your car as fast as you could. You hit the garage door opener and then slid the key in the ignition, the key jiggling and scrapping a few times in your shaky, heart pounding state. You twisted your wrist and the car made that wretched sound it makes when it turns over and doesn’t start and you nearly started crying in frustration, panic, and fright. If you got caught and stopped before you could get out of there you’d never get a chance later. You turned the key again and the engine purred to life and you almost shouted with relief. The moment the garage door was opened enough, you carefully reversed, but quick.
   You had barely pulled out of the driveway and started down the street when you could spot your mom’s car driving up to the house from your rear-view mirror. You slammed your foot down, pressing the accelerator down a little harder and refused to give her or her car a second glance. There was no turning back, no way things would ever be the same again. For better or worse. But you dared to hope for better.
   The long drive felt longer than it used to. Perhaps because it had been a while since you’d taken it, or because of the time away from driving at all. Perhaps it was something else, something missing that was normally there. Someone that had been there. You didn’t give yourself time to think about what you were doing, or the absence that made you ache harder; instead focusing on getting there as fast as you could and trying to plan out what to say. Where you might go after.
   Pulling up to the picture perfect house sent a wave of familiarity through you that, for a moment, relieved the pressure in your aching chest. Then came the nerves. It had become your safe haven as much as it had been his; but you weren’t welcome now. Sighing, you resolved that they could kick you off their property the moment you informed them of what you needed to, and then you’d never bother any of them ever again.
   Despite your rush to get here and the urgency you’d felt minutes before; all you could do was sit there and stare up at the house you loved so dearly and quiver from the anxious, nauseating feeling in your gut.
   With slow, disheartened movements, you turned the car off and got out. You trudged your way all the way up to the front door, second guessing if this really was the only way. But you needed to tell him. He needed to be at school Monday morning.
   At the door, your hand sluggishly lifted to knock but you hesitated, your hand pausing in the air. Fist shaking from nerves and emotion, you stood there staring at the closed door and continued to fail at following through with the action you needed to do next. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath to steady yourself, and then slowly let it out through your mouth as your eyelids slid open. This is for Jungkook, you reminded yourself. With that thought, you were able to knock on the door to Jin’s house.
    As you waited, you steeled yourself. No matter how angry, annoyed, or apathetic they might be when they answered the door, you needed to get this done.
   The knob of the door raddled as someone turned it on the other side, and you nearly fainted. Whoever it was opened the door so slowly you were sure you would pass out from holding your breath so long as you watched it start to swing open.
   The face that greeted you filled you simultaneously with relief and an ache for a life long gone. Yoongi stood there, peeking through the crack in the door. His eyes were rimmed with dark circles, looking like he’d not slept in days. The worn, pained expression on his face turned into a faint smile upon seeing you, however, and he opened the door wider.
“Y/n.” he greeted in a hushed voice. “Nice to see you again.” At least Yoongi looked happy to see you. In fact...he looked a little relieved as he stepped aside to let you past him. Or were you reading too much into things? Maybe he was just tired.
   You gave him a tiny, shy smile as you entered the house, and he quickly closed the door behind you as quietly as possible.
   The house was eerily silent. It hung in the air and made your smile turn nervous. Not even when you were here alone with Jungkook had it felt this...what was this feeling? It wasn’t an empty or void feeling. It was heavy and thick. Like some sort of storm cloud loomed over the entire house, melancholic and steeling the air from the lungs of those within it. That’s what it felt like. Until now it had always felt warm, welcoming...a haven. What on earth had happened to change that over such short amount of time?
   But there were more pressing matters to attend to. You weren’t about to spare the time to try to figure things out. Not when you needed to get this done and over with as quickly and as painlessly as possible.
   You opened your mouth, part of you about to tell Yoongi the news so you could sneak off like the little coward you felt...and the other part was screaming at you in your head to ask him where Jungkook was.
“He’s upstairs in his room.” he beat you to it.
   His room? Had they given it to him officially?
“O-oh...Thanks, Yoongi.” you quietly said.
   He nodded and then padded off, picking up his coffee mug on his way to get a refill in the kitchen.
   Hesitating for a while, you remained planted where you stood. It took another long inhale and subsequent exhale to get you moving again.
   Climbing the stairs, an onslaught of increasing nerves took a hold of you. Butterflies swirled and thudded in your stomach, getting worse the higher you ascended. You tried to prepare yourself for the potential harshness you might be about to face. He’d made it undeniably clear he wanted nothing to do with you. That things were over between you. What if he yelled at you for coming here uninvited and unwanted?
   Mentally you steeled yourself as you approached the door to his room. There was no telling what his reaction might be.
   Nothing could have prepared you for what came next, however.
   His door was ajar, so you pushed into the room, opening the gap wider with your shoulder, and reached behind you as you readied to knock. Just as you were about to knock, there was a quiet sound like a sniffle. It gave you pause. You stood there a few seconds, unsure what to do. Another sniffle reached your ears and you quickly but softly knocked at his door to alert him that he was no longer alone.
“Go away, Yoongi. I don’t want anything to eat.” The dullness in his voice, that lifeless tone...it sent a shiver down your spine and a pain unlike anything you’ve ever felt in your heart. He didn’t sound anything like himself. You barely recognized his voice through the gruffness. It wasn’t the roughness you were accustomed to after getting him to make sex noises all night. It was nothing like that at all. It was razors that cut and ripped at your heart.
“I don’t want anything to drink either.” he continued after a short pause. He sounded so strained, his voice so raw.
   Pushing the door the rest of the way open, you dared to step inside. The door creaked slightly, like it tended to, and you winced, bracing yourself further.
“I said I don’t want anything!” he suddenly bellowed, showing more life than he had seconds earlier. “And if you’re here to lecture me again about Y/-” His sentence, and subsequent mention of your name, came to a sudden halt as he finally turned his head enough to glare at who he thought was Yoongi.
   The moment his eyes met yours it was all you could do to not gasp aloud. They were hallow, detached; red with deep, dark circles around them. He’d also lost weight...from what you could tell.
“Y/n.” he murmured in disbelief. He stared at you like he might be seeing things but wished desperately to be seeing something real.
   Shock overtook him, his eyes widening as it hit him that you really, truly were standing in his room. His mouth fell slightly agape as he started turning more towards you. He really looked stunned that you were there. Well, you both did know that you’d never invited yourself over to Seokjin’s before. It had always been on invite only. Or brought here by Jungkook, which you figured counted as the same thing.
   He cleared his throat and sat up on his bed.
“Y/n, what are you doing here?” He sounded angry, but his eyes read he was hurt.
“I uhm...I-I’m sorry, Jungkook; I just had to try-”
“Try nothing. Get out.” The bleakness in his voice made you wince, but you held your ground. He turned his head away again, resting back on his forearms now.
“You didn’t let me finish!” He huffed and his head lolled to look back over at you again.
“And I said, ‘get out.’ Whatever you’re here for-”
“They’re reinstating you at school.” you rushed out so that he couldn’t interrupt you this time.
   He looked taken aback for a second, and for a moment, hope returned to his eyes. But then it was replaced by the flicker of some realization as his eyes swept over you and then looked away. He looked hurt again.
“Oh. So you’re here for that.” He nodded to himself and then crumpled back to his bed.
“You need to be there early Monday morning,” you continued on despite the crushing pain eating away at your heart. “Earlier than when school starts. There’s a for-”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” he interrupted again. There was that hallow voice again.
“It...doesn’t matter...?” you repeated, turning it into a question, baffled. You knew how much it meant to him. This was not a good sign if he didn’t care about this anymore.
“But, Jungkook. You said it was the only reason you stayed in school. To graduate.”
   His shoulders and chest lifted and dipped in a deep sigh. He turned fully away from you now, as if he was trying to shut you out. This hurt worse than you were prepared for.
“Just get out, Y/n. My life is none of your business anymore. It never should have been.” There was a pause that felt an eternity as you tried to figure out how to move your legs. “And hey...I’m sorry for fucking up your life by being in it. I should have never had sex with you.” Another, shorter pause. “I ruin what I touch.” he whispered so quietly you were sure he’d meant it only for himself.
   The gasp that ripped out of you was quiet, but the near silence of the room made it sound much louder, sharply clear. He flinched.
“Jungkook. Please don’t say that. Don’t you say that. Not that!” Tears welled up in your eyes so fast you couldn’t stop them for nothing. You wiped furiously at your eyes to no avail; the tears streamed down you face like two dams breaking.
“I have not regretted for a second what we had!” your voice was starting to rise louder and louder; and yet, he stayed still as if you didn’t exist. “It might have only been sex to you, but it was more to me!” you continued anyway, all the bottled up things spilling out of you in one sweep. “I wasn’t your girlfriend, and I know I made that a clear stipulation up front. But I wish I never had. Fuck, how I wish I hadn’t.“ your voice quieted now, your hand coming up to grip over your shredded heart.
“I don’t know when it happened or exactly how, but you changed me and made me feel things I never thought I would. I thought these kinds of feelings, they didn’t exist for real; that it was something made up, only in the movies kind of thing. Now I’ve felt those things for myself. You made me feel them. You made me see how life could be different. How I want to be. Who I want to be. So please. Don’t say you regret having sex with me. It led to the best thing I know.”
   His shoulders tensed more and more as you spoke, and his breathing picked up heavier and heavier. Your voice was quivering by the time you were done speaking, but you didn’t care.
   Your bottom lip started to quiver while you watched him as long seconds ticked by like everything was in slow motion. And not in a good way. Had he fallen asleep; not even bothering to care enough to listen to you?
   You started to twist your body to make a run for it and barely caught the motion from the bed. Turning your head towards him, you watched as he slowly turned to face you. His eyes scanned you, his brows creasing as he observed the way you looked.
“Is that my jacket?” he asked, knowing full well that it is. You bit into your lip and rubbed anxiously at your arm. “You’re wearing my jacket?”
“I...uhm...” you couldn’t get the words out. Not to try to explain it away, to say anything. “You left it at my...house. Remember?” you finally managed to say.
   He didn’t say anything in reply. He didn’t even blink.
“I’m...well, I thought I could return it to you while I’m here.” you fibbed. You reluctantly started to shrug out of it, only now remembering that you were wearing it. How could you be so stupid as to forget that you were wearing it? You’d meant to take it off so you could lie about knowing it’s whereabouts if he asked. It was the only thing you had to think of him and hold on to as a piece of him, and you desperately wanted to keep it.
“Keep it. I can buy another.”
   Standing there, his jacket hanging off your shoulders, you stared at him in disbelief. This one wasn’t so easily replaced.
“But...” you muttered, falling into stunned silence. Were you really going to be able to keep his jacket?
   As you slowly pulled it back in place, he eyed you again. His careful, cautious gaze landed heavily on your bandaged hand and his brows knit.
“What happened to your hand?”
   Of all things for him to address now.
   You moved it behind your back, out of sight.
“It doesn’t-”
“It matters. Tell me.” he heatedly demanded. What was he so angry for now?
“I g-got into a f-fight at school...” you hesitantly replied after a brief pause. Your teeth dug into you lip, and he laid there not moving, not blinking as he stared like he couldn’t tell if he heard right. It was a different kind of disbelief from when he was surprised to see you again.
   Suddenly, he sat fully up.
“You...got into a fight?” he asked, as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard right. You nodded. He scanned your face again, this time clearly focusing in on the scabs and bruises.
“I did.”
“You got into a FIGHT?!” Now he was outraged.
   He was springing up from the bed and in front of you in a heartbeat.
   Backing away, you tried to keep distance between you; but his huge hands gripped onto your waist. Your knees instantly became weak, your heart yearning deeper. This is why you’d wanted to keep your distance. Why you’d not wanted him to touch you. Because it would cause all the more pain and longing when he sent you away from him.
“What the fuck have you been doing since I’ve not been at school?!” he demanded, fire crackling in his voice. “I throw everything I care about away for your benefit, for your own good, and you repay me with fights in school?!” His hands flexed as he held onto you. “Tell me, Y/n...what else have you recklessly been up to in my absence?” his voice was more subdued, but not by much.
   Your eyes flickered up to his, and you hoped he saw the flames in them.
“What have I done?” you started out chillingly quiet. “What have I done in the wake of a mess I created and you took the blame for?!” you bellowed. “I have done EVERYTHING I can to make them believe me when I tell them the truth that I did it, that it wasn’t you. And you know what?! It worked!”
“You WHAT?!” He let go of you to run the fingers of both hands through his hair like he was loosing his mind. They dropped to his sides the next moment, accusations in his eyes. “Y/n, how could you?! I threw everything away for you!” His hands returned to your waist, further wrecking you for later. “As if I’d go back now! No. Ohoho no. I am going to march in there alright. And I’m going to swear up and down that it was me and that you have just temporarily lost your mind from...from....” The fire in his rage dissipated as he tried to think of a good enough reason.
“From missing your cock..?” you coyly suggested, unable to help yourself. He blinked, stunned, and then looked down at you, the grip on your waist tightening again. But in a different way this time.
“You...what?” he distractedly asked, all his anger gone now, replaced with a cautious hope.
“I missed your cock. And everything attached to it. Including this...” You placed your hand over his heart.
   His chest was heaving again, his eyes turning molten.
“You really mean it? And all the things you said earlier?” A flash of pained disbelief flickered though his eyes, almost too fast to see.
“Every word.” you fervently replied.
“I’m not a good guy.” He looked away and down, pained. You cupped his face in both hands and coaxed him to look at you.
“Yes, you are. You are so good, Jungkook.” He gave you a sarcastic look in response. “Yeah, I know...bad boy, fuckboy. But. You have a good heart.” You caressed his cheeks with your thumbs, searching his eyes and urging him to see himself how you saw him. “And maybe that was all pretense. Now I see through it more clearly than ever. You are an amazing, sweet, and loving man, Jeon Jungkook. And I have been a bit lost without you.”
   It was obvious he wasn’t sure he could believe the words you were saying, though he clearly wanted to. Something was still holding him back from seeing the truth about himself.
“The past few weeks...” you continued on, needing to finish what you were trying to say, “I thought I’d never see you again and that you wanted nothing further from me. It broke me a little; because I knew how strongly I felt about you. And I knew you didn’t feel that way about me.” Your eyes followed the motion of your hands as they dropped from his face, bottom lip caught between your teeth. There. You said it.
   His hand lifted to curl gentle fingers under your chin. He waited, patient, until you brought your eyes back up to his.
“I have been more broken the past few weeks than I ever have been before. And trust me; I’ve been pretty broken before then.” He gave you a sad smile, then a genuinely bright one stretched across his face and lit his eyes.
“I have missed you every second. Your smile, your laugh...the way you look so scandalized whenever I say or do certain things.” He chuckled, and your heart started flying. How you’d missed that sound. His eyes turned a touch sad again, the faint hint of a sad smile starting to return.
“I missed how you helped hold me together; until I realized that was exactly why I was right to get out of your life. You don’t need nor deserve me in it messing it up. You deserve a man much better than me; who will be everything I can’t be.”
   That hurt more than anything you’ve ever experienced. How could he think so lowly of himself?
“Like all the other guys out there? Jungkook. You are the only man to treat me decently, and you did a lot more than that. You treated me so well. You’ve spoiled me for life, I’ll have you know.” A flush spread through your cheeks after you admitted this.
“You actually want me? Me? The way I am? Imperfections, bad reputation, fuckboy past and all? All of it?” he asked, cautious but hopeful.
“All of it. All of you.” You held his gaze, willing him to see your sincerity.
   His breath caught and his eyes searched yours fervently.
“I love you.” he whispered, ardent.
   This caught you by surprise, your mouth falling slightly ajar. He smiled at you and laughed softly, then leaned closer. You looked up into his eyes and saw all the love there, and saw your own reflected in them.
   His hands were on your waist again, and distantly you were aware that you were moving. He walked backwards, bringing you with him. His lips captured yours before he spun you around and sent you toppling backwards onto his bed. Gasping, you stared up at him and he chuckled. The look in his eyes, it was that same look he used to try to hide from you. The very one he occasionally actively wanted you to see.
   He knelt on the bed and slowly crawled on it towards you. Your teeth caught and tugged on your lip, and he smirked at you as he crawled over your body.
“Wasn’t there something you said earlier...? About going insane from missing my cock?” he asked, somehow managing to simultaneously sound cocky, playful, and serious all at once in this remarkable way.
   The scoff you let out in response was unimpressive at best and he chuckled again.
   And then his lips were on your neck, kissing up it slowly. Subconsciously, you gripped onto his shoulders, tilting your head back.
“I was just teasing...wasn’t serious at all...” you replied, but it was breathy and he smirked into your skin.
“Oh? Then why is your body reacting so quickly to mine, huh, Sweetheart?” And there it was, the return of your pet name. The one you had missed oh so much.
   Fighting a blush, you tried to play it off.
“Ah, nooo...it’s just because I haven’t had any-” Your own gasp cut you off as he rubbed his thigh up against your clothed core; at the same time, he bit and sucked on your neck in a spot he knew drove you wild. You tried not to moan...but he was making it hard on you.
“You sure? It’s only that? No sex for weeks? Sweetheart, you hadn’t had sex for months when we started. And your even more responsive now than you were then.” He pulled away from your throat to smirk down at you and you couldn’t hide your blush this time.
   He caressed at your cheek, a soft smile managing to be a touch smug.
“Face it...you just really like the way I have sex with you and you’re crazy about my cock. Come on, admit it, Sweetheart.” He was so smug. So proud. And one hundred percent right.
   You clenched your jaw and he laughed heartily. He knew you so well by now.
“Alright. I admit it.” you gave in.
   He beamed down at you for a minute, and then his face disappeared back into your neck to continue trailing sloppy kisses up and down the side of your neck.
   He was slowly getting more needy by the minute. And so were you.
   Hungry hands roamed your body, caressing, kneading, gripping. His lips never left you, always attached to some part of the skin easily available to him.
   Deep, passionate kisses were intermingled with butterfly brushes all over your face, sweet, gentle presses of fervent lips dotted here and there.
   Your hands were as busy as his; pulling him closer, gripping, massaging, trailing over wherever you could.
   Eventually you both wanted more and he pulled back to gaze down at you for a long minute. He looked so happy you could feel it seep into your own heart and body, meld with your own happiness.
   His eyes trailed over his jacket, his smile widening impossibly wider.
“Were you really intending to give me back my jacket?” he asked, like he already knew the answer.
“What?” you asked back, pretending you didn’t know what he was talking about.
“You said you brought it to give it back...but I saw the relief when I said you could keep it. And why exactly are you wearing it?”
   Biting back an embarrassed groan, you avoided eye contact for a moment to gain enough bravery to answer.
“Honestly...once I found it, I took to sleeping with it draped over me or near me. It still smells like you. And I couldn’t resist taking to wearing it as well.”
   He looked so surprised it made you want to laugh, but you refrained.
“You sleep with it and wear it because it smells like me?”
   Shyly, you nodded.
“I sorta became obsessed with your scent after...” you trailed off, unable to complete that thought. “It not only reminded me of you and our time together, it became an odd source of strength and comfort. If I closed my eyes and sniffed at it, for a few minutes I could pretend things were alright, that you were still in my life.”
   Awe filtered into his surprised eyes. He gripped at your hips a little deeper and stared down at you like he was feeling a little chocked up from some emotion.
“You like the way I smell that much?” Now it was your turn to be surprised. Of all the things for him to focus in on in what you’d just confessed, he chose how addicted you were to his scent and how much you loved it.
   You didn’t answer verbally, but he could see it in the way you flushed, your teeth digging into your lower lip.
“Does it still smell like me if you’ve been wearing it and sleeping with it?”
   Before you could answer, he bent his face to sniff at it and he let out a soft sigh.
“It smells like you, too, now.” he answered himself.
“And that’s why I need to give it back to you; so you can wear it again and it’ll smell like you.”
   Slowly, he shook his head. He didn’t break eye contact, staring at you with a look you couldn’t figure out.
“I want it to smell like you. Like both of us. Our combined scent. So instead of giving it back to me, why don’t we share it.” His little bunny smile made an appearance and your heart skipped a beat. “Yeah...I like that idea. It’s now a communal jacket.” His gaze turned sultry yet retained an affectionate edge. “Besides...what’s mine is yours, now and forever.”
   He was so enthusiastic about it that you couldn’t deny him what he wanted. So you nodded, biting deeper into your lip as one of your hands wove your fingers up into his hair, the other gliding around his neck to drape it there.
“If that’s what you want.” you sweetly replied. His beaming smile was almost too brilliant to behold.
“It is.” he softly murmured.
   A distracted look came into his eyes as they swept over your shirt. It was one you’d made alterations to, making a slight cut in the neckline to show a little cleavage, along with two deeper cuts up the sides to show your sides off a bit.
“Isn’t that one of your shirts you used to wear?”
“Yep.” you replied, smiling.
“It looks different; you did something to it.”
“Mhm.” you chuckled, carding your fingers through his hair.
   The way his eyes darkened with plot and desire made your heart flutter and your walls clench around nothing.
“Is it a shirt you’re particularly attached to, or one you don’t care if you have tomorrow?”
“Uhm...the latter...?” you replied, confused with where he was going with this; though you had your suspicions. Maybe he wanted to keep it?
“Good to know.” he muttered, adjusting his weight to hold his body off of yours by the strength of his lower body alone.
   His fingers slid towards the cut you’d made at the neckline and curled around both sides of the fabric.
“What-” you started to ask, but a loud shredding sound drowned the word out and made you fall into stunned silence.
“Brace yourself.” was the only further warning you got. The next moment he ripped the shirt until it was completely shredded all the way down and pulled fully apart. He held it open like that, staring down at you in your bra.
“Jungkook!” you gasped, your chest heaving.
   His eyes raised to yours and he smirked down at you, letting both sides of the split shirt slip out of his grip.
“There. That’s much better.” he said, his voice thick and seductive.
“Why did you do that?” you asked, your cheeks flushing.
   He chuckled, running a hand heavily up your abdomen and over your bra covered breast to knead at it.
“I want to fuck you in my jacket.” was his simple explanation. “Our jacket.” he softly added.
“I could have taken everything off and put the jacket back on, you know.” you pointed out, then bit into your lip to tug it down as you gazed sultrily up at him.
“I know...but my way was much faster. And hotter...wouldn’t you agree?” he quirked his brow, his smirk turning more smug.
   You groaned at the thought, your hips lifting, back arching.
“Yes...much hotter.” you moaned in agreement.
“Now how to get this pesky bra out of the way...” he plotted, distractedly trailing random designs over your bra, and subsequently your breast.
   Before you could suggest anything, he tugged both cups down to reveal your breasts to him.
“Ah yes,” he seductively sighed, “this will do for now...”
“Jungkook.” you whined, but he chuckled because he saw through your mild shyness. The fact that you were now pulling him back down on top of you certainly backed that notion up in his mind.
“It’s been weeks, baby...I need to see you. Touch you.” he purred, sounding and looking thoroughly fucked out already as he rolled his body atop yours. His lips pressed deeply into the skin of your chest, just above one of your breasts. “To taste you.” he sighed, his fingers slipping down to glide over your clothed pussy.
“Oh, fuck.” you groaned and he chuckled, smirking against your skin.
“Baby, I know. You love the way I eat you out.” He sucked on the spot beneath his mouth and rubbed deeply at your pussy. “I love it, too.” He licked at the spot he’d been sucking on and peppered wet kisses down over your breast.
   Suddenly, he lifted his head up to gaze heatedly at you.
“I love you.” he fervently said.
“I love you, too.” you murmured in fervency, staring back into his eyes just as intensely. You wanted him to see and hear the sincerity of it and hoped that he did. Gently, you swept his hair off his face with delicate fingers, and then cupped his cheek. “I love you, Jeon Jungkook.”
   There was only a second that you were able to glimpse the way his face and eyes lit up with pure joy before he kissed you with more gratitude and more passion than ever before.
   Though both of you were enjoying the way things had been going, it proved too slow for either of your liking when it had been so long since you’d had sex.
   It didn’t take long until you both started desperately yanking clothes off of each other. His shirt was first. Then your pants. His pants and underwear. Your panties...
   True to what he said before, he insisted on you keeping his jacket on and didn’t even bother to get your shirt or bra off of you the rest of the way. He was on top of you, grinding and bucking against you before you could even suggest again to take them off and put the jacket back on. Not that it mattered to you either way. As long as he fucked you, you didn’t care what you were or weren’t wearing.
   He took the time to finger you, thrusting carefully at first. When he realized you wanted more, he let go and finger fucked you until you came around his fingers. Now that he was sure you could take his cock again after so long, he gripped your thigh and hiked your leg upward as he rolled his hips into yours. Your back arched, already wanting him more desperately than you could voice. He knew you well, though, thankfully.
   He lined himself up and pushed all the way in as deep as he could go. There was no real pause, he started thrusting deep. The two of you let out simultaneous sighs of relief and then moaned together. He dropped his head onto your shoulder, thrusting faster, harder, until your body was moving on the bed from his rhythm.
   Wrapping your body around him as much as you could, you held him. He sighed in appreciation, gripping your side and hip tighter.
   When you were getting closer to cumming, he started kissing on your shoulder and neck. Deep, passionate kisses that lingered. The moment he knew you were almost there, he started rubbing your clit the way he knew you loved and lifted his face up high enough to watch you cum.
   As his eyes stayed focused on your face, his hips became more erratic. It didn’t take long until he made the most beautiful sound that toppled out of his parted lips as he came deep inside you.
   His eyes closed, face scrunching from the pleasure that was consuming him. Was there anything more beautiful? Not in your mind, anyway.
   Your fingers wove into his hair and you waited until he was able to gaze back at you and focus.
“I love you.” you murmured, pulling him into a sweet kiss.
“I love you.” he whispered against your lips, breathless; before allowing himself to lay there limply on top of you.
   The two of you stayed like that, holding each other, occasionally pressing soft kisses into each others skin. Until sleep overtook both of you and you fell asleep in each others arms.
   The next morning, you woke with Jungkook sprawled across your body, his limbs tangled with yours. Groaning, you tried to stretch, to even move the slightest inch. His weight on you didn’t allow for much, and once you’d so much as shifted your arms and legs, he let out the softest, most adorable whimper you’ve ever heard and shifted so that he was covering more of your body with his. His hands gently gripped the sheet on either side of your body, and his nose dug deeper into the side of your neck. Apparently you weren’t going anywhere until he woke as well.
   Affectionately smiling to yourself over how endearing he is, you carefully, light as a butterflies wing, trailed your fingers over his hair, then wove them into the strands.
   A soft sigh reached your ears and then one of his hands slid from the bed and onto your side.
“Morning.” he sighed, groggy. He shifted a bit and then managed to lift his head up to peer at you through sleepy eyes.
“Morning.” you replied, smoothing his sex and sleep messed hair off of his face.
   He took in the soft way you were smiling at him and then something clicked in his brain.
   Suddenly his eyes were wide and fully alert, his breathing picking up.
“We’re back together.” he recalled in a sleep roughed voice.
“Mhm.” you chuckled, continuing to smooth his hair.
“We fucked.” he continued on in the same manner.
“Yep.” you smugly replied.
   A smile so beautiful broke across his face, like the sun rising in the morning after a long, dreary night. It lit his eyes and warmed your heart.
“You love me.” he said in awed happiness, full of emotion.
“Yes.” you softly replied, the smile on your own face deepening, even softer now.
   He jubilantly hugged onto you the best he could given the current position the two of you were laying in.
“I love you and you love me back and I can’t ask for anything else of life!”
   You giggled a moment and then stroked his shoulder.
“What about getting that diploma?” you smugly asked.
   He froze, then pulled back to blink at you. It was obvious he’d forgotten all about the reason you’d come back to Jin’s.
“I can graduate...!” he enthused in shock.
“Yes, baby, you will.” You caressed his back with both hands.
   He beamed down at you for a while and then shifted to sit next to you.
“I should tell Yoongi. Jin is out again.” he explained. “Yoongi stayed here to look after me. Though he flat out denies that’s why he stayed all week.” he chuckled. Pausing, he turned thoughtful. “Or should I tell all of them at the same time?” He stared off into nothing as he contemplated his options; then looked back down at you. “Will you stay the weekend? I know you didn’t bring anything because you weren’t planning on this happening. But...the guys will be so pumped when they see you and hear you’re back for good.”
   Smiling shyly, you sat up and kissed on his shoulder.
“I’d love to stay the weekend.” you replied.
   His smile stretched wider, his arm looping around your waist.
“You can wear more of my clothes. If you need to.” he smugly crooned.
   His eyes swept over your mostly naked form and you remembered you were still in your bra and ripped shirt. And his jacket.
“I’ll make us breakfast. You can pick out whatever you want of mine.” He kissed the top of your head and got up, dressing in only his sweatpants.
   After he went downstairs, you stretched real good and then sighed, before you went to look through his clothes for a shirt to wear. You picked one out...one of your favorites. It was one that you’d noticed he started to wear more frequently after you’d mentioned that fact only once. You searched for your panties and slipped them back on and then your pants. Your backpack was still in the car, and you really didn’t want to ask him to go get it for you. You could get it later.
   Joining him in the kitchen, you easily fell back into routine. The soft, warm smiles and shared looks, the touches and caresses...
“I’ve missed making you breakfast.” he commented, platting up for you.
“I’ve missed it too. But I missed you even more.”
   He handed you the plate, kissing the top of your head.
“Missed me...and my cock, you mean?” he smugly teased.
   Gasping, you swatted at him with your free hand. He sent you a you-know-it’s-true look and turned to plate up his own breakfast.
   There was a clattering of keys outside the front door, and then the door opened and gently closed.
“I came back, I forgot my-Oh...” Yoongi called out, breaking in over himself when he pushed the kitchen door open and spotted the two of you standing there with your plates of food.
   His eyes darted around the room, trying to land on anything but either of you. But especially you. His ears were a little red, his cheeks starting to dust rose as he sheepishly stared at the counter between where you were standing and his position by the door.
“My bad...I ah...I thought you two would still be in...bed...” He cleared his throat and something about it was adorable. He was embarrassed more than either of you were.
   You glanced up at Jungkook and watched the way he eyed his friend speculatively. As he stared at him, his eyes narrowed slightly and he stood at his full height.
“What did you see?” he asked in a deep, rough, and intimidating voice.
   Yoongi’s eyes went as wide as they could go at the exact moment your own eyes did the same.
“N-nothing! I saw nothing, swear!” he quickly, loudly replied.
“You’re acting like that and telling me you didn’t see anything?” One of Jungkook’s brows rose towards the ceiling, his jaw setting. Why was that so hot? Inwardly you groaned. If you weren’t so mortified at the moment, you might have taken him by the hand and pulled him back to his room...
“I didn’t!” Yoongi exclaimed, mildly panicked. “I...well you left the door open so it wasn’t like I could help hearing what the two of you were doing! I left before it got...you know...” he winced, looking at the counter again.
“Hellooo.” Jin’s voice called from near the front door. The door closed, harder than how Yoongi had closed it, and the sound echoed through the house. “I’m hooome.” he cheerfully continued. “Yoongi, Jungkook...?”
   The door to the kitchen swung open again, his cheerful face turning to full on shock when he saw the scene before him.
“Y/n?” he asked in a stunned but excited voice.
“Hi, Seokjin.” you shyly replied, waving in small mildly embarrassed waves.
   His smile returned and he clapped Yoongi on the back.
“Our baby has his baby back! All is right with the world again!”
   Yoongi grumbled something under his breath and Jin let out one of his signature windshield laughs. Oh how you missed them, too.
“See, Jungkook? I told you things would turn around and start looking up.” he pointed out, then nodded once, sure and confident.
“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Jungkook responded, a little shy and embarrassed, and ruffled his hair.
“When did you get back, Y/n?” he asked, ignoring him.
“She got back yesterday afternoon.” Yoongi discontentedly informed.
“Aren’t you happy she’s back, too?” Jin responded, looking a bit disappointed in his friends behavior.
“Yeah, of course.”
“Than what’s with that look and the tone?”
“You didn’t have to hear them...getting back together...” he replied, a bit ruffled.
   Jin blinked and then looked at each person one by one.
“Is that what’s up with all the awkward expressions?”
“No,” Yoongi snarked, “we just decided to play a game of ‘who can stand here looking awkward the longest’...” he sighed, running a hand over his face. “I had to find somewhere else to sleep last night because I knew the two teenagers wouldn’t stop going at it for a while, maybe into late morning.”
   Hands flying up to cover your face, you suppressed an embarrassed groan.
“We...we’re not...Hey we may be teenagers still, but we’re adults, Yoongi!” Jungkook sputtered in a defensive but embarrassed way.
   Peeking through your fingers, he had that look. The one he got whenever he was shy and embarrassed and trying desperately to counter it. That stubborn pout of his lips. It was so endearing. Oh how you love him.
“Y/n, what a sweet, love filled smile that is on your face.” Jin said in a soft way. The smug curl of his lips as he observed you and Jungkook made your cheeks heat even more.
“Uhm...” you sheepishly muttered, averting your eyes from any of the men standing there in the kitchen with you.
   While you’ve had similar interactions like this, it was way different this time. For one, it was known how much in love the two of you are, that you’re together in a more official capacity. There was no avoiding or pretending things weren’t as serious as they really were. No more uncertainty. He loves you and you love him.
   For another; while you’d been overheard in the past, it was quite different. The way Yoongi put it made it seem like more than it was. After all, Jungkook had gotten you to scream his name with every one of his family of friends in the house and had marked you up good. It wasn’t like that, though. This seemed much more intimate. And maybe it really was. He’d fucked you, not made love to you. But it had that same sentiment behind it. And that’s what made your cheeks burn more than the last time.
   What surprised you more was the fact that Jungkook was just as embarrassed and shy about this. It was all over his face and in the way he couldn’t make eye contact with anyone. Something about that fact, the look in his eyes, melted you even more.
“Am I going to be able to sleep in my own bed tonight?” Yoongi asked, still a bit disgruntled.
   Jungkook narrowed his eyes at him, his ears turning deeper red.
“You can do whatever the fuck you want. I can’t make any promises that we won’t...” For all the indignation that started the sentence out, he trailed off awkwardly, shyly biting into his bottom lip as his cheeks flushed that lovely color you loved but were so rarely treated to.
“Alright, I understand.” Yoongi responded in a surprisingly soft way. “You two are young and in love. I get it. We’ll get used to it and put up with it until you get it out of your system and level off.” He gave a sweet, soft gummy smile and walked over to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. The fond way he was smiling at him made your heart beat with appreciation and pride.
“Who says we’ll ‘level off’?” Jungkook muttered as Yoongi walked away from him.
   His dispute to his friends comment, though quiet, hadn’t been quiet enough. Jin laughed that laugh you loved again, and Yoongi chuckled softly. As for you...another flush rushed through your cheeks and you couldn’t keep this shy whimper in this time.
   Jungkook’s immediate reaction was to snap his gaze to you and reach for you. Though he’d embarrassed himself by saying it, his first reaction was to make sure you were alright and to comfort you.
“We’re hooome!” Jimin’s voice shouted as the front door banged open. Was that the usual thing they said when they got here? That similar announcement?
   Taehyung’s laugh filled the house and Jimin’s quickly joined it.
“You two, take it down several notches!” came Hobi’s chastising voice. “Jungkook is going through the worst time of his life. And that’s saying something and you know that.”
“Oops.” Taehyung guiltily said in a much more subdued voice.
“Shit. I didn’t mean to...I hope I didn’t disturb him or anything.” Jimin said in just as guilty a way.
“I know; but we need to be more...why is Jin’s coat on the floor by the kitchen?” Hoseok said, his tone turning confused as he spotted the coat in question.
“I hope he stopped crying. It hurts when he cries.” Taehyung said, ignoring the coat question.
“It hurts more than when I feel like crying for myself.” Jimin’s voice was getting closer, a note of confusion as he too was growing intrigued by the coat on the floor.
“He never leaves clothes on the floor.” Hobi said, baffled and worried. He pushed into the kitchen and gasped upon seeing the small group of you standing there awkwardly.
“What?” he asked in that surprised but excited way only Hobi could.
“What...what’s happening in the kitchen?” Jimin inquired, hurrying up behind him.
   He froze, his mouth dropping open the moment he saw what caused Hoseok to react the way he had.
“I don’t want to miss out on this, what’s going on?” Taehyung excitedly called out, coming up to squeeze past them.
“Y/n?!” he exclaimed in surprised delight. His boxy smile was a sight for sore eyes, and his sweet chuckle was music to your ears. Jungkook wasn’t the only one you’d missed, after all. You’d missed every single one of them.
“Y/n!” Taehyung enthused as he took off to attack you with a big bear hug. “You’re here, you’re here!” He pulled back and held you at arms length, staring down at you as if to check if he was really seeing you there. “You’re here.” he softly repeated with a warm smile. He wrapped you up in another big, warm bear hug and rocked you slightly.
“Hey...” Jungkook nervously said. “Hey...!” he repeated a little louder when no one said anything in reply, a little more panicked. “That’s my girlfriend!” he exclaimed, his hands squeezing between your body and Tae’s to try to peel you away from him.
“Yes!” Jimin suddenly shouted with exuberance. You were able to just make out the way his arms had flung sky high as he jumped up into the air as he shouted the word. “He finally admits it! He said it, he said it!” He turned to Hoseok, pleased as punch, and tugged on his arm. “They’re official and admitting it!”
“I’m aware, Jimin.” Hobi responded in an affectionate way, patting and smoothing down his friend’s hair with a soft smile.
“Great...we’re all on the same page. Who’s making breakfast?” Yoongi griped, but he was wearing that fond smile still.
“Tag, Yoongi.” Jin said, tapping his shoulder and then bursting into another round of windshield laughter.
   Yoongi’s expression in reaction was priceless. It made the whole kitchen burst with laughter, and he even gave a tiny chuckle himself.
“Why is there food already, though?” Taehyung asked, staring at the two abandoned plates on the counter. His hand was still touching you, wrapped securely but gently around your wrist. Jungkook eyed it, clearly displeased, but there was an underlying current to his expression that made you think he was also happy. Because his friends - his family - adored you, too.
“The teenagers had a night of it and made themselves breakfast before anyone else arrived.” Yoongi announced.
“For fucks sake, Yoongi, please stop putting it that way!” Jungkook exclaimed, a little whiny.
“I bet they did.” Hoseok muttered under his breath, smiling wolfishly.
   Jimin laughed a deep, suggestive laugh that only aided in bringing on another deep flush of your cheeks. And Jungkook’s.
“We have sex a normal amount.” he muttered under his breath, pouting. “Well, for us anyway.” His soft, shy bunny smile made your heart skip a few beats and then take off sprinting. You didn’t even mind what he’d said. That sweet, soft look he was exhibiting was too lovely to care about anything else.
“You have a fuck ton more than you used to before Y/n.” Taehyung commented, casual, then shrugged. A pout slipped onto his face and he gave Jungkook an accusatory look. “And you stopped telling us explicitly about your sex life after you finally got her to go out with you.”
“What?!” you exclaimed, flabbergasted.
“Tae!” Jungkook shouted at the exact same time, whining.
“What?” he replied, blinking, confused and innocent.
“Jungkook...” you started, turning towards him, “what does he mean by that?”
   He avoided your eyes and laughed nervously.
“Well I didn’t think you’d like me talking about our sex life with them.” he replied. That wasn’t what you meant. And judging by the way he was acting, he knew it too.
“He was totally into yo-” Tae started to answer for him, but was cut off by an anxious, embarrassed Jungkook putting him into a playful headlock.
“Come here you little fucker.” he said, carefully leading Taehyung out of the kitchen with his arm still locked around him. He whispered something into Tae’s ear and Tae sheepishly smiled up at him, apologetic.
“Your food is cold by now. Frigid perhaps.” Jin commented as he turned to follow Jungkook and Taehyung into the living room. “Yoongi, you know what we like.” he smartly added, sending a winning smile to his friend.
“Why did I have to mention breakfast...” Yoongi pouted. He sighed and then went to work getting things ready to make a full family breakfast.
“Thanks, Yoongi.” you softly said, pecking his cheek with an appreciative, affectionate kiss.
   Instantly he was flustered, his cheeks and ears turning red.
“Sure...i-it’s nothing.” he replied, stuttering a bit in his shy state.
“Y/n,” Jimin spoke as you made your way towards the door, “before Taehyung can claim the spot next to you, and before Jungkook can object...can I sit next to you when we play a game or watch a movie after breakfast?”
   His cute puppy look could melt the coldest heart. Not that yours was. It was the warmest you’d ever felt.
“Sure.” you agreed as you walked beside him.
   He looped an arm over your shoulder and sent you a brilliant smile.
“If Jungkook pummels you after getting too cozy with his girlfriend; can I have your game station?” Hoseok joked, following the two of you through the kitchen door.
   Jimin sent him a withering glance and then squeezed you closer to himself.
“Pay no mind...Jungkook would never actually beat me up for something so trivial as cuddling with his girlfriend. Right?” he said it in false confidence, but you could see the nervous way his lips curled into a smile.
   The three of you came to a full stop upon entering the living room.
   There, on the floor, was Jungkook and Taehyung, locked in a heated wrestling match.
“You better keep your mouth shut, or I’ll shut it for you!”
   Jungkook was clearly winning. But what else could be expected?
“Get over it, Jungkookie! I slipped!”
“You did it on purpose!”
“No I didn’t!”
   They rolled around some more, wordless but grunting as each tried to gain the upper hand. Which was comical, because no matter what Taehyung tried, Jungkook overpowered and or out maneuvered him each and every time.
“Besides, what’s the harm of saying things like that!” Tae shouted, trying in vain to flip Jungkook over.
“You shouldn’t, ok? Leave it at that!” Jungkook shouted back.
“Why not?! Why can’t I?!” Tae yelled. More like loudly whining.
“She’s my girlfriend!” Jungkook loudly grunted.
“She’s my friend!” Taehyung countered back.
“She’s! My! Girlfriend!” Jungkook shouted, pinning Tae down. Actually, it was a bit of a growl. He glared down at him, a snarl on his face.
   Jimin peeked at you, then looked up at Hoseok. Hoseok nervously smiled back at Jimin, looking a little scared, and Jimin closed his eyes.
“I’m fucked. He’s going to pummel me for sure.” he said in a low, doomed way.
   Jin laughed heartily as he came over to join the three of you, all of you watching the two on the floor with various expressions.
“It’s all in fun; don’t worry, Y/n. Jungkookie still adores TaeTae. He’s just...highly protective and a little too easily jealous.” Jin patted your back to comfort you.
   Taehyung overheard him and sent a bright, dashing smile to you and playfully winked.
“Hey, Jungkookie...” he started out, the playful, teasing tone already sending warning bells off in your head. Jungkook might adore him, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t get mad at him for real. “How long did you say you had a thing for Y/-”
   Jungkook’s hand flashed like lightning to clamp over Taehyung’s mouth.
“Shut up, for fucks sake, please!” Jungkook cried out, in full panic mode, and more embarrassed than you’d ever seen him.
“Welcome to the family.” Yoongi gently said as he joined the rest in the living room. He was staring in that fond way at his two babies on the floor. He turned his head to fix you with a softening smile and your heart swelled with increasing hope and happiness.
   Jungkook smiled up at you then. Not that cocky grin he used to give you and everyone else. Not the knowing smirk, or the teasing one. It wasn’t any of the ones you knew well by now. No...this one was all warmth and love, pure joy at your existence and that you are a part of his life.
   Family. That’s what you wanted with him. A real family. Now you were brave enough to dare to hope for such a thing. To dream of a future that might not be that impossible after all.
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miss-tc-nova · 4 years
Text
The Cat’s Meow - Jumin Han x Fem!Reader Pt 13
Drama drama drama. I love it. Maybe too much...Oh well. 
Part 13: Do You?
                Today’s the day. For months I’d been avoiding and ignoring the man I loved; not that any of it did any good—I still love him. At least he’d finally gotten the point, but I still dreaded today—today is the day of Jumin’s wedding.
                Since I’d gotten the invitation, I’d had considerably more drinks, but not as many as that first night; I still had my clinic and wallet to think about. I tried every trick in the book to shove intrusive thoughts of Jumin out but they come back in every spare moment I have.
                As for the friends between us, they’ve been going above and beyond to distract me. Luciel offers to hang out more, Yoosung tries to get me to talk about work much more while making it look like he’s getting extra serious about our jobs, and Zen becomes a regular hang out buddy. It’s Jaehee that I’m sometimes still on the fence about. I’m not as close with her as I’ve gotten to Zen and Luciel, but I want to. She’s so loyal and sweet and down-right incredible, but I can’t help always thinking that Jumin sent her when we get together. Still, I elect to ignore who her employer is and get my dose of girl talk in when we do see each other. But it’s going to take a lot more than their antics to distract me from today.
                Against my better judgment, I prepare myself for probably the worst decision of my life thus far. Even though there’s a rift between us, I find myself wanting to support him; I want to show that I think he’s made the right choice and congratulate him. So a little red dress with three-quarter lace sleeves becomes the outfit I’ll face him in. Mako gets an early dinner and I pull on a pair of black heals when my ride arrives.
                Zen’s waiting at the door. “Hey. Are you ready?”
                “As I’ll ever be,” I sigh, picking up my purse and the gift bag from my sofa.
                Those silver brows furrow. “Are you sure you want to go?”
                “Yeah. He’s made the right choice and I want to support that,” I say.
                “If you say so.”
                We head for the red sports car waiting in front of my home. Yoosung pops up from the other side. “Hey, _____. Do you want the front seat?”
                I laugh a bit. “No. I don’t mind sitting in the back. Nice car, Luciel.”
                “Isn’t she just a babe,” he coos, stepping out to let Zen and I into the back.
                “Is this the new one?”
                “Nah. The new one I got is silver. But I figured this one fit the colors.”
                I giggle. “Fair enough.”Having three goofy guys escort me to the wedding is a bit odd, but it’s nice to have a support group.
                The event is huge, but what else could be expected of the heir to a major corporation. However, I do think it’s a bit much for even Jumin. The guys had gossiped a bit about this Sarah Choi that Jumin is supposed to be marrying. They don’t seem all that fond of her and some have even said they think she’s in it for the money. My stomach churns if that’s true. Unfortunately, even Jaehee has expressed that Sarah has very easily adjusted to having access to Jumin’s money.
                We show our invitations at the door since they’re keeping out the paparazzi. The smell of roses is almost overwhelming as they’re peppered everywhere as the red decorations. They’re twisted around banisters, placed on the table, petals across the aisle, rose everything everywhere. There are a few other red items to tie in the color, but mostly, just flowers. It’s like trying to force the image of love with the only image of love you can think of. I guess they could’ve used hearts, but then it might look like a Valentine’s party in here.
                We veer off to the side when Jaehee finds us, followed by a vaguely familiar man with mint-colored hair.
                “You all made it. We have seats reserved for you at-” She hesitates when she spots me. In response, I give a sheepish grin.
                That’s when the gentleman addresses me. “Hello. You seem well acquainted with my RFA but I don’t think we’ve ever met.” He offers his hand. “They call me V.”
                “V? How mysterious,” I say with a bit of a laugh. He now wears the sheepish grin. “My name’s _____.”
                That smile disappears to a blank void. “_____? You’re _____?”
                Against that expression, I’m very quickly second guessing my presence here. “Yeah…”
                V seems at a loss, simply staring at me. There’s no anger, no pity, nothing. He just stares. I feel the blood rushing up my back, into my ears, and across my face. Nervously, I glance to Zen.
                “I-Is there something on my face? Should I-”
                “Oh! No! Sorry!” V interrupts. “I didn’t mean to stare; it’s just…I’ve heard a lot about you.” He pauses, still with that blank stare. “I’m the best man.”
                I know who this is now, somewhat. I’ve heard plenty stories of him. The word comes from my mouth barely above a whisper. “Oh…”
                “If it’s not too much to ask…why are you here?” Reaching into my purse, I pull the invitation and pass it to him. It’s got my name scrawled on the front along with my address. “And you came?”
                I can feel all their gazes on me, which doesn’t help my anxiety. “I want Jumin to move on. He deserves someone better than me and I’m glad he found her. I support his decision.”
                V looks the envelope over very carefully. “Jumin had all the invitations written by other people. Even mine was written by, I assume, Jaehee. But this…” He passes the envelope back to me. “Is Jumin’s hand writing.”
                He personally invited me? Does his fiancée even know about me? Maybe I should go…
                Before I can make a decision, Jaehee seems caught up in another conversation and grabs V’s attention. “It’s starting.”
                “Oh. Right.” V gives me one last look of unreadable interest before following the woman to his place.
                The boys and I get ushered to our seats and I sit between Luciel and Zen. Music begins to play and a door off to the side opens. My breath hitches like I’m falling back into my old, stupid ways. I feel a hand slip into mine and give Zen a grateful glance.
                In all honesty, Jumin doesn’t seem any different than normal, suit and all. Sure, he’s wearing a red tie to match the colors and there’s a rose sticking out of his chest pocket, but he seems normal otherwise. Actually, looking a bit closer, he seems rather bored of the whole ordeal. As a man about to get married, I would’ve expected him to be a bit brighter. Then again, I heard that it was Jumin’s father who set the two up and insisted he get married after only a few months. Maybe I shouldn’t be supporting this. I wanted Jumin to find someone better for him, but if he’s not even excited to get married to this woman, he’s still making the wrong choice.
                Shut up! He’s probably nervous. He never was great at showing emotions in front of people.
                The groom and best man stand at the alter and the doors behind us open. People awe and coo over the train of bridesmaids and groomsmen, and even more at the ring bearer and flower girl. And then the wedding march plays and the bride reveals herself.
                Sarah Choi is beautiful; I can see that, I can say that. But everything about her also looks so fake. I’m pretty sure there’s more hair on her head than her skull can grow and she’s put on more make up than she needs. I’m no expert, but she looks like she’s had a few surgeries done before. Even something about her dress screams ‘barbie doll’ and less ‘human being,’ and it has the longest train I’ve ever seen.
                To each his own…I guess.
                Sarah, head held high and bursting with pride, makes her way to the end to meet Jumin. His best man is smiling, but Jumin certainly is not. Even when he faces her, it’s like he’s not really looking at her.
                And we settle in for the ceremony. The officiant talks about love and the new chapter of life and blah blah blah. I zone out his words, looking over the bride and groom. They appear so opposite that I wonder how his father could even recommend these two. Over and over again, I tell myself that I know nothing of their relationship and they could already be best friends. They might be madly in love with each other.
                Okay, new thought!
                And then my brain does the terrible thing of inserting me into this wedding in place of Sarah.
                NO! No nono! Stop it! Get a hold of yourself!
                “Jumin, do you take Sarah to be your wedded wife?”
                Of course, of all the times for me to zone back into the ceremony, it had to be during Jumin’s vows. A cold pit grows in my stomach as I look at the couple holding hands, currently vowing their lives to each other.
                “To live together in marriage? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to her, for as long as you both shall live?”
                I almost want to jam my fingers into my ears. My grip tightens around Zen’s fingers and he rests his second hand over mine. Then I realize that it’s completely silent; the entire room hanging, waiting for him to say those famous words. Refocusing on the front, I see Jumin staring down at their joined hands, silver eyes full of something that wipes the smile from Sarah’s face. We can all hear her hiss his name from the microphone.
                Suddenly, Jumin drops Serah’s hands and the entire room gasps. Even I cover my mouth in shock. “I don’t.”
                “What?!” Serah screeches.
                “Jumin Han!”
                His father is on his feet, but Jumin takes the microphone. “I apologize for wasting everyone’s time today, but I have come to the realization that marrying this woman would truly be a mistake. I don’t see a reason in making a pledge that I know will end in failure.” The entire room is murmuring and gossiping. “Thank you for your attendance. Please feel free to reclaim any gifts you have brought and enjoy the refreshments.”
                Those eyes lock on me and I know the reason he’s cancelled this wedding. Terrified and shocked into stupidity, I leap to my feet, scramble over Luciel, and bolt from the room, losing shoes in the process. Outside, I’m instantly met with flashing lights and people shouting, but I race down the pathway towards the street. Thankfully, a cab pulls over as soon as I hail and I request a ride home. The phone in my purse rings and meows repeatedly and I power the device down to get it to stop. When we arrive, I hurl some bills at the man and jump out of the car.
                “_____!”
                My blood turns to ice. Stopped behind the cab is a familiar black car and Jumin is stepping out. I didn’t expect him to chase me all the way home, especially right after the chaos he’d just caused. My feet pound against the sidewalk as I race for my front door. If I can get inside, I can lock the door and hide away from him.
                My fingers fumble with the keys but I manage to get the door open. Jumping inside, I push the door as hard as I can to slam it shut. A second later, it lurches but does not give as Jumin pounds on the other side.
                “_____, open up. We need to talk.”
                My throat is threatening to close up. “I don’t want to talk to you!”
                “_____!” I flinch away from the door. “Let me in!”
                “Go away!”
                “Haven’t I proved my feelings for you yet?!” he shouts. “I don’t understand! If kissing doesn’t work, and cancelling my own wedding doesn’t work, then what do I have to do to prove I love you?!”
                My brain is running on fear and defiance. “I know you love me!” I hit the door back. “I know you do and I hate it! I hate it so much it’s suffocating me!” I should reign myself in but I can’t. “It’s not supposed to be us! We were never meant to be together! And when I know you love me, it hurts so much because you’re not supposed to! YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO LOVE ME BACK!”
                “_____?”
                I pound away on my own door. “And I knew better! I knew I shouldn’t have let you in! I was your vet and that’s all I should’ve been! Not your friend! Not your scheming cohort! Least of all your lover! But I couldn’t help myself!” My knees hit the floor.
                I can hear the commotion of other cars arriving. Flickers of flashing lights get through my curtains. People are shouting, but Jumin continues pounding on my door and calling my name.
                “JUST GO AWAY!” I scream.
                “Mr. Han, we need to go,” I hear Jaehee.
                “Jumin, come on.” That’s V.
                “Let go of me!” he snaps. “_____!”
                “You’re not doing anyone any favors! Let’s go!”
                His shouting dies down and I hear Jaehee directing various people. Before long, there’s a significantly lighter knock on my door. “_____?” Yoosung calls.
                “Go away!” I wail.
                “Hold on.” I hear the key slipping into the lock and the doorknob turns. The door pushes up against me but I don’t really fight against it and Zen squeezes through. I now regret giving him that key he insisted on after my second breakdown. “Come on,” he grunts, scooping me off the floor.
                The man sits on the sofa and cradles me against his chest. Yoosung, Luciel, and Jaehee enter and try to console me but I lose myself to my own little world of wallowing. 
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