#trust me I don’t mean anything maliciously when answering asks I just go !!! and try to tell what I think

[ryuichirou]

Replies

A lot to talk about today as well, starting with the asks related to the drawings, starting with the ones about our Sebemal/Lilimal comic from yesterday:

hipsterteller asked:

Malleus theres a time and place to show off but not in front of Sebek please

It’s okay, it’s Sebek’s own doing, so he should be proud of what he did! <3

Just kidding, there is absolutely time and a place for that, and this is exactly why Malleus just has to do it then and there. Such a troublemaker.

Anonymous asked:

Not sure if the relationships are in the same universe but is Malleus playing with Sebek karma for how he treats Idia?

Not really, I don’t think Malleus really cares about Idia or is even aware of how either Sebek or Lilia treats him.

If anything, it’s karma for how Lilia treats Malleus lol Things are complicated between them, and Lilia has a history of doing exactly that – toying with people, at least in Malleus’ bitter mind. To play devil’s advocate, Lilia isn’t a malicious heartbreaker, and a lot of times he doesn’t even mean for people to get so attached to him, but that doesn’t mean that he didn’t hurt some people, including Malleus.

Anonymous asked:

IS Malleus toying with Sebek? Also, Lilia you have no room to talk

Yes EXACTLY LILIA LOL Typical parental figure: do as I say, not as I do.

To answer your question: hmm, I guess he does technically? He isn’t very serious about their affair, and he is partially doing this to mess with Lilia, to make Lilia eat his words, so to speak. But it’s not like Malleus just uses Sebek or laughs at his feelings either. While Sebek’s intenseness is annoying sometimes, the lengths he would go to make sure that Malleus is satisfied are amusing and honestly even exciting sometimes. Seeing complete and unapologetic devotion in Sebek’s eyes and knowing that he is Sebek’s entire world feels like just the right medicine for Malleus’ aching heart. And sex feels good too, despite the fact that Sebek isn’t at all experienced. And seeing him so conflicted about the signals Malleus is giving him is absolutely priceless: he clearly wants to touch him, but isn’t sure if he is allowed, and it’s cute.

Of course, having full attention of a person doesn’t help when you feel the lack of attention from another person. But also? This doesn’t mean that Malleus doesn’t have any feelings or soft spots for Sebek. In fact, I feel like as time goes by, Malleus wouldn’t even think for a moment that Sebek is filling a Lilia-shaped hole in his soul. For once, he doesn’t fit lol

So yeah, he isn’t as serious about it as Sebek, so technically it is kind of cruel towards him in a way.

Anonymous asked:

Malleus you tamagotchi playing bitch.

Tamagotchi playing bitch!!! 😭

Should have played dating sims, that would have taught him how to date people.

Anonymous asked:

Great, now some of the lyrics for How to be a Heartbreaker remind me of Malleus… 😔

Maybe Malleus has heard the song and took it way too literally lol

Anonymous asked:

I noticed that it’s said that Idia likes being bullied and treated a bit more roughly but how does he feel when someone is genuinely trying to romance him is or soft with him and treats him like he’s the most precious being in their world? Maybe they even really want to please him both in bed and out? Does he dislike it or get bored with it? Ew, the unadulterated sappiness of this question is grossing me out, blegh.

Hmm, I think for the most part he just doesn’t trust it. Why would anyone want to act that way with him? And it’s not even “aww, but I’m ugly, who would want me :(“; I think he genuinely feels uncomfortable and doesn’t know how to respond to this treatment. It someone is trying to please him and wants something in return, it’s easier to comprehend: he is very similar to Azul in this specific aspect, but not as business-oriented. He is also more likely than Azul to consider this to be an attempt at trolling, like to make Idia feel like he is being pampered and loved, only to make fun of him for believing it.

And even if his potential suitor breaks this wall of distrust and proves his earnestness, here comes another wall: Idia doesn’t believe in good things for himself. If he feels good, something bad is inevitably going to happen. Happiness makes him nervous, because it makes him subconsciously paranoid of how painful it’s going to be when this nice thing goes away. So yeah, in general it’s just more difficult for him to accept and comprehend this treatment.

And if we’re talking about him in bed, here comes the third wall: it’s just way too embarrassing. Why is he being treated with such care? Those gentle little kisses should be for someone cute and small and someone who would make sweet noises or sighs all sexily. It takes him out of the moment sometimes.

And THEN if his lovers somehow manages to break all these walls, and Idia feels comfortable and has accepted the loves he is being given… THEN Idia is going to realise that genuine soft romantic stuff is kinda boring lol He would rather play videogames than makeout for 60 minutes and exchange petnames, it just doesn’t give him as much adrenaline rush as rougher treatment.

That being said, I don’t know if Idia is even aware that he prefers it rough. He probably thinks that he prefers to never get touched by any human being at all…

Anonymous asked:

it makes sense that Trey wants a bj from Idia, the guy is childhood friends with the guillotine queen's fanboy

(this is related to this post)

LOL it all makes sense now. Maybe Trey just really loves the thrill of certain parts possibly being cut off.

Anonymous asked:

Hey, hey, I thought you said Idia didn’t have a booty. Maybe it’s not super substantial but there’s something there to ogle. 😳

Not sure which specific drawing this ask is related to (maybe the Lilidia one for the zine), buuut.

Yeah, it is… very petite! I feel like from some angles it barely has any definition, but if it’s up in the air like that and stuff, there is still some curve to it. Probably. This + I am just not very consistent with my drawings lol

Anonymous asked:

Yes, Idia ACCIDENTALLY cursed himself to become a horny toad-frog whenever that tattoo flares up. Or he fell into it completely by accident. And it was a moe fall, to boot.

(this is related to a tattoo comic)

Yes, EXACTLY! It’s not his fault that the rules of physics and the Universe itself suddenly turned on him like that, and now he is being tortured by mysterious horny manga circumstances!

Wait, you being sarcastic, aren’t you?.. 🥺

#replies

[jennay]

Protect Her

The request:

Jamie standing up for his girlfriend when she's having an argument with her older, abusive brother about her relationship with J or smth, whatever you come up with!! and taking care of her after that situation, because protective Jamie is such a perfection 😩

Master List

You and your brother met at a local restaurant that neither of you had tried. You were excited for your brother to meet your boyfriend, finally. It only took him a year to agree to a simple lunch.

"When's he going to be here? I'm hungry." Your brother stares down at the menu. Hangry was a trait that ran deep in your family tree and showed in your brother.

"He said ten minutes."

You chose seats outside to enjoy the sunny weather. God knows you could use some sun. Plus, if your brother made a scene, it would be easier to escape.

"I looked him up online." Your brother David raises his sunglassed eyes to you.

"And?" You question knowing that you more than likely weren't going to get the response that you wanted. You never understood why David didn't like Jamie. He never gave you a direct answer. He shrugged it off as he just didn't. You wanted to believe that he was a sweet, protective brother, but you knew better. Your brother had verbally abused you off and on your entire life; why would he stop now?

"He's been with many women and already engaged by age thirty-three." He leans back in his chair, "The real question is, why hasn't anyone married him by now if he's such a great guy?"

"Trust me; I'm trying." You joke. "I'd marry him right now if he asked."

You are thankful when the waitress asks to take your drink order. Your brother orders a lemonade, and you order Jamie water and yourself a vodka lemonade. You were going to need it to get through this lunch.

"You think he's the one?"

You nod. "I don't think Jamie's the one. I know he's the one."

"Hey," Jamie pulls the seat from beside you and sits down. "Sorry, I got stuck in traffic, love." He leans over to kiss you.

"I'm glad you made it."

The waitress appears with your drinks. "Thanks." Your brother says to her. He's watching you and Jamie interact, but he's not buying it. He thinks it's all a show, and you two couldn't be that happy with one another.

"Jamie, this is my brother David; David, this is my boyfriend, Jamie." You watch as David reaches out to Jamie; Jamie stares at his hand for a brief second before realizing that he's in America, which was one of the corks of introducing yourself.

"Nice to meet you." Jamie kindly says. "Have you guys ordered?"

"Waited on you." David's attitude hasn't changed one bit over the years. He's still going to be a prick about everything. "So, what drew you to this one?" He asks Jamie. "Not much of a personality there. Can't imagine it was anything interesting."

Jamie's eyes widen. He's never heard someone talk to you like that. Shocked, his eyes wander over to you, wondering what the fuck just happened. "You must be confused, (Y/N) has a fantastic personality. She's a lot of great things, and boring is not one of them." Jamie brings his hand to the table where your hand rests. He calmly laces his fingers with yours and watches as your brother sarcastically chuckles.

When the waitress comes back, you order your food and patiently wait. You watch as your brother rests his elbows on the table and lets his jaw relax in his hand. He eyeballs you before smirking. You feel nervous; you don't know what he will say next.

"Doesn't sound like the girl I know." He takes off his sunglasses this way; he can ensure you see malicious intent behind his eyes. "Sounds like you're keeping secrets."

"Don’t." You warn.

His eyes dart to Jamie, "How many girls do you cheat on my sister with when you're out touring? I'm sure every girl wants a piece of the lead singer."

You feel embarrassed by your brother's question. "Stop." You tell him. You feel your heart begin to race, and you want to splash your drink in his face. Why was he so mean? For no reason other than that, he was like your father.

Jamie leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. "What's this really about? Are you trying to hurt her or me?" He takes off his cap and sets it on the table. "You can try to hurt me all you want, but you will not hurt her in any way, shape, or form." His voice is low and stern. "Are we going to have a problem?"

"Are you threatening me?" He stands up and pushes his chair back hard. "Come on, tough guy." He chides.

Is this really happening?

Jamie doesn't stand up, though. Instead, he chuckles at your brother's motion and says, "Keep your shirt on. I'm not going to fight my girlfriend's brother." He laughs again, which pisses David off more.

"You're going to let him talk to me like that?" David marches around the table and gets in your face. "You're pathetic. You'll never amount to anything, and your loser boyfriend will leave you just like they all do." He takes a step back, too proud of his job to notice that Jamie's fist is two seconds away from his face.

David stumbles back, holding his bleeding nose. "What the fuck, dude." He acts like he didn't just degrade you in front of your boyfriend.

Jamie grabs your arm and pulls you out of your chair. "I told you if you did anything to her, we would have a problem." You grab your purse from the ground and latch onto Jamie's arm. "Get fucked." Jamie says, "Come on, love."

As the two of you are walking back to Jamie's car, you can hear your brother cursing at you, but Jamie tells you to ignore it. He puts one arm around you, sticks the other in the air, and gives David the finger.

"Jamie." You warn.

He rests his arm back at his side and kisses the top of your head. "Nobody gets to hurt my girl."

I hope you liked this! Let me know if you want something written ❤️

#jamie bower #jamie campbell bower #jamie campbell x reader #jamie fanfic #jamie bower x reader #jamie bower x you #jcb #jcbower #jamie bower x y/n

[mbti-notes]

INFJ. Processing past Fe failures. Want to get better at socializing / having deeper relationships/friendships. Muddling through Ti development - desiring to get better at self-awareness + communication. A lot in my brain and it'd be a lot to share the entirety of recent exchanges that have ended up in failed relationships, so I'll try asking this and hope it's enough to get critical thinking help from you, thank you much in advance. (1/2)

[con't: I notice a pattern of me trying to communicate and express myself to be understand by, or be emotionally met by Fi users, and them responding by saying things like "I don't know what you want from me", "I don't know how to help you," "I'm sorry you feel that way" or them even saying variations of "Maybe you're not used to my communication style" (ENTJ) if I express that I feel dismissed, uncomfortable, or disrespected.

This isn't ALL Fi users thank God & I'm in therapy now to address my downplaying of my emotional needs, being willing to work through anything even though the romantic relationships I'm attracting are woefully incompatible or unhealthy. But I want to get better at doing my part to increase the chance of relationships building. What am I doing/expecting/judging in my communication with Fi users so they respond that way or has me feeling being unseen/misunderstood? Is it the basic INFJ recs?]

You point to Fi specifically. Fi doesn't require outside validation, so perhaps what you're encountering is their lack of concept of outside validation, in the manner that you're seeking it with Fe.

All of those example statements sound like they could be taken sincerely. "I don't know what you want from me" could be an opportunity for you to better explain what you need/want. "I don't know how to help you" could be an opportunity for you to provide better instructions. "I'm sorry you feel that way" could be a helpless admission that the two of you don't see things the same way. "Maybe you're not used to my communication style" could be an indication that there is a need to investigate the big gap between what was perceived and what was actually intended.

Not everyone is going to see eye-to-eye with you, not everyone is going to agree with your version of events, not everyone is going to care about your needs and feelings enough to address them kindly and patiently. This should all be okay with you unless you were walking around expecting everyone out there to have the capacity to meet you emotionally or validate your emotions (unhealthy Fe)? That's simply not gonna happen, so it's an unreasonable expectation. That's why it's so important that YOU be the first to take care of yourself and own your emotions, set proper personal boundaries, and navigate interpersonal boundaries more gracefully.

If you feel someone has violated your boundary (i.e. you feel hurt by them), the answer isn't to violate theirs in return. You're trying to fix a problem in the relationship, so further damaging the relationship isn't going to help. Whether you are right to feel hurt is not the main issue. Feelings themselves are always true and tell you something true about you. However, what you DO about the feelings isn't always right. There are two main ways people deal with negative feelings: 1) bottle them up, which amounts to self-harm, or 2) express them, which opens up the possibility of doing harm to others, if they don't have the means to process your feelings. Neither way is ideal.

If your main approach is to expect people to change (when they can't or don't want to), expect them to give you more than they are capable of giving (due to not having the means or resources), expect them to understand something that they are not really capable of understanding (when they just don't think in the same way as you), etc, your expectations are easily perceived as "demands". You're essentially pressuring people to be what you want them to be, which amounts to dishonoring them and violating their boundary. This approach is usually met with submission or resistance. If they submit to you (because they care for you), they will be unhappy for having allowed you to violate their boundary, and the problem will recur because it was only swept under the rug. If they resist you, conflict ensues, and the relationship bond will be tested and possibly threatened, especially if the conflict recurs without resolution.

There is a way to honor your feelings while also honoring others' feelings. It requires you to have good emotional intelligence and be a good communicator. Good emotional intelligence means respecting your feelings and taking full responsibility for them. Instead of seeing yourself as the victim (i.e. "you made me feel this way"), you see yourself as an agent with the power to decide what is best (i.e. "I feel this way and this is what I should do about it"). Positioning yourself as a passive or helpless victim means that you cast blame and eventually demand reparations. Positioning yourself as an active and influential agent means that you survey the situation objectively and then try to act in the best interests of everyone involved. This is what healthy and confident Fe should look like.

For example, when you feel dismissed, maybe you bottle it up for awhile, until you can't take it anymore (because the problem remains unaddressed). Then you confront people and say, "I feel dismissed". This implies that the other person has done something bad to you. You are the victim, which puts them on the spot, feeling like the bad guy, and then they can't hear you, due to becoming too preoccupied with not wanting to be the bad guy. Communication is likely to stall there, unless they have the wherewithal (emotional intelligence) to keep their focus on you and your concerns.

Instead, you could say to yourself, "I feel dismissed". You take full responsibility for your feelings and validate them for yourself. When you are good at validating your own feelings and emotions (something you admit you really struggle with), you'll eventually find that you won't need to rely on others to do it for you.

What does it mean to feel dismissed? It means that you believe you're not being taken seriously, or something to that effect. Not very difficult to understand. What to do about it? The feeling of disharmony is a message to you that you have to do more to advocate for yourself and make space for yourself within the relationship/group (it is good Fe advice). There are many ways to advocate for yourself without stepping on others. If you choose the right way, in terms of honoring everyone involved, the feeling of being dismissed will dissipate naturally. If you choose the wrong way, in terms of honoring yourself but dishonoring others, you'll encounter the problem again, because you haven't addressed the underlying problem of you positioning yourself as the victim in every relationship conflict. Chronic victim mentality is often an indication that you depend too much on outside validation of your self-worth.

Unless you are stuck in a very toxic social environment, the majority of people are not malicious for no reason. Before accusing or blaming, are you absolutely certain that they INTENDED to dismiss you? If not, wouldn't it be wise to gather more info? For instance, you could ask something like, "Have you had the time to give my idea serious consideration?" No blaming, no battling, no victim-victimizer dynamic. Do you understand how communicating without blame, through genuine inquiry, avoids trapping the both of you in a vicious cycle of seeking emotional reparations? You give people the benefit of the doubt. You give people the chance to clarify or explain. You give yourself the chance to grasp the FULL picture so that you can make a more informed decision about what to do (based on their response to your question). But this presence of mind isn't possible when you can't accept your feelings/emotions and they run wild as a result.

One common misapplication of Ti is the tendency to jump to illogical conclusions or make up illogical stories about what is motivating people's negative behavior, all the while believing that you're being completely logical. It's a destructive way to deal with negative or disharmonious feelings. Once the false narrative infects your mind, you can't help but perceive the person as attacking you, even when they're not. This misuse of Ti is a major impediment to relationship building.

The problem with victim mentality is that you are hyperfocused on your perspective only, so you only have half the picture, which means making ill-informed decisions. If you are prone to Ti loop, you need to get to the bottom of why you're so quick to position yourself in the passive position of victim. A healthy relationship should be an equal partnership based on trust, which means that you should always try to 1) give people the benefit of the doubt, and 2) gather the facts of the situation before drawing a conclusion about what they intended or what kind of character they are.

If the fact of the matter is that the person really doesn't care about your feelings, then you know not to seek validation from them, and perhaps distance from them for your own good. Don't play around in toxic or abusive relationships. If the fact of the matter is that your perception of the situation doesn't match up with what they intended to say/do, then it's up to you to straighten out the situation in your mind before proceeding.

Trust your feelings, validate your feelings, but don't act blindly on them (i.e. without fully grasping what's happening with the other person). Figure out why exactly you're feeling what you're feeling, then take it up with the person in a way that addresses the root of the problem and in a way that doesn't immediately put them on the defensive. Conflict is sometimes unavoidable, but being more skilled at communicating your concerns will certainly reduce the amount of pain required to reach a resolution.

#infj #infj relationships #emotional intelligence #auxiliary fe #ti loop #communication #self worth #victim mentality #boundaries #relationships #conflict #ask

[metize]

Belphegor is Mean

Belphegor x MC (AFAB) smut

Tags: NONCON! Mean Belphie, name-calling, rap3

Summary: “Aren’t you just the dumbest little whore? I manipulated you, I used you, just like that… and ah… seeing you like this makes me want to use you… for another purpose.”

A/N: This is really heavy mean belphie material yall. Know what you're getting into.

“Humans… you really are utterly braindead, aren’t you?” Belphegor smiled at you, asking you a question you couldn’t even answer because of the tight grip on your throat. Both of your hands trying to pull his hand away from your neck, but the lack of oxygen was slowly numbing your senses and making you weaker. “You were too busy lusting after the cute mysterious guy in the attic to wonder that maybe he was there for a reason.” He laughed, mocking your actions and your sympathy. “Aren’t you just the dumbest little whore? I manipulated you, I used you, just like that… and ah… seeing you like this makes me want to use you… for another purpose.”

Belphegor really was a demon, you thought to yourself, maybe the most dangerous all of out of the brothers, his cruel actions were careful, progressive and slow-paced. The Avatar of Sloth mirrored his sin in every way. You blinked and you felt tear rolling down your cheeks, you only then realized you were crying. You weren’t sure if you were crying out of fear, despair or anger. You certainly were distressed, but most of all you were angry at yourself. He was right after all, you underestimated the demon before you, you willingly gave him your support and promised to help him out of the attic. Belphie’s other hand swiped away the tear, shooshing you in feign pity.

“I know, I know… Don’t worry, you won’t need to use your empty, pretty little head of yours right now.” He got closer, speaking softly right into you ear “I want to fuck you while I’m choking the life out of you." Your heart was beating so fast you wondered if he could hear it too. "Ha… I wonder, will you cum for me or will you pass out before you even get the chance?”

His laugh made you shiver, you shake your head furiously, the motion causing the tears to drop from your chin to the floor.

“Belphie you don’t have to do this, come on, we were… we are friends! Please, Belphegor!” You begged, trying to appeal to the bond you shared, the bond you thought you shared.

“Shut the fuck up!” He grabbed your throat and pushed you onto the bed, his purple eyes were dark and you could feel his sharp nails dig into your skin. “What are you even talking about? This is exactly what you wanted, wasn’t it? You want me to ruin you, you always have.” He groped your chest ignoring your protests. When he decided he had enough of you trying to push him away he used his tail to wrap around your wrists and hold them above your head. “Don’t worry I wanted this as much as you… Seeing your pretty face through the bars of the door, dreaming of getting my hands all over you.” He grunted and used his claws to rip your clothes apart, smirking at your tears.

“Belphie stop! Not like this, never like this…” You closed your eyes shut blinking more tears away. His rough hands grabbed your naked breasts now, tugging your nipples and laughing at your reactions.

“You lie so prettily, but your body can’t lie to me. Look at your slutty reactions, look at how much you crave my touch, whore.” He licked your nub and blew on it watching you squirm. “Can’t wait to get used like a good little toy, hm?” Belphegor whispered before cupping your sex over your underwear.

"Belph-" You tried to speak but your voice got caught up in your throat. You took a deep breath but before you could try again he pulled your underwear down and plunged his fingers inside. You couldn't help but moan at the intrusion.

"Are you seeing this?" He laughed as if he just heard the funniest joke. " 'oh no Belphie you're evil and I don't want you to fuck me'" he said in a high pitched voice, mocking you. "If that's true then why are you dripping all over my fingers? Huh?"

You tried to hold back your sounds as he thrusted his digits deeper inside you. He was right, the wet noises resonated in the room and the shame you felt was equal to your arousal. Then his fingers touched your sweet spot in just the right angle and you yelped, a malicious smile ever present on the demon's face.

"You're so pathetic, I can't believe it. You make it all so easy for me..." His fingers were fucking you faster, your breathy moans escaping your lips despite your best efforts to contain them. "Since you were a good little puppet for me I guess I can let you come from my fingers before I use you as my fleshlight."

You once would've mistaken the tone in his voice as pity, but not anymore. He was trying to make it seem as if he was doing you a favor, as he coaxed an orgasm out of you.

"B-Belphie don't make me…! Please…" You begged, but he showed no mercy, his pace only getting rouger and your climax getting closer.

"You're the one who's going to come for her future murderer. I'm not making you do anything. I guess you just can't take it anymore, you're a dirty whore and you want to cum for me." He shrugged noncommittal "So just fucking do it already."

So you did, you came around his fingers screaming his name and hated yourself for it. He seemed pleased with it, he withdrew his fingers from inside you.

"Ugh…" he looked at his slick covered fingers with disgust before pressing them against your lips "clean your mess up, I don't want my hand smelling of a human's cunt."

You just accepted it, hoping it would be over, even though you knew very well this wasn't the whole plan. You confirmed it as you felt his cock prodding at your entrance. The head of his member was gathering the slick and you moaned as it stimulated your oversensitive pussy.

"Dumb slut can't even shut up when I'm trying to get off, tsc… such a pain…" he groaned annoyed before pushing his cock inside you with one swift trust.

You screamed his name as you felt his whole length fitting perfectly inside you. You sobbed at the feeling of being full of him, your tears stinging your eyes.

"Stop crying, you look pathetic" he grunted thrusting further inside you. He then leaned closer and licked the tears streaming down your cheeks. "...gross." and he spat on the floor next to you.

When he started moving his hips, hitting all the right places. You wanted to push him away, you couldn't bear the thought of coming for him a second time. You tried to wriggle your wrists to get his tail to stop restraining them. And suddenly his hand was around your throat.

"Stay fucking still already." He grunted "You are a toy, toys don't move, toys don't struggle." He punctuated his statements with his thrusts. His grip on throat tight as you moaned at his rough treatment. "Worthless human can't do anything right."

His pace was quickening as he tightened the grip on your neck.

"Cum for me again and I may let you live… do it slut." You couldn't breathe, your hands trying desperately to grab something to hold onto. "Fucking do it!"

"B-Belph-!" You screamed as you came around his cock. Your vision going black for a second before he finally released your throat. You immediately try to catch your breath but you couldn't stop moaning as he kept on fucking you.

"How obedient… how absolutely fucking stupid." He smiled, his pace faltering as he got closer to coming. "Fuck… Stupid human cumdumpster… take it… take my cum… ah!" He grunted and you cried as you felt the hot spurts of cum filling you. His hips stayed still as his tail let go of your wrists.

You immediately bring your hands to your face to cover your eyes in shame, horror, anger… sobbing underneath the demon and you could hear him chuckle darkly at your pitiful display.

#obey me belphegor #belphie smut #belphegor smut #obey me smut #obey me swd #obey me fanfic #obey me headcanons #omswd belphie #omswd belphegor #belphegor x mc #belphie x mc

[dreamologisth2o]

Why I Believe Endersmile Is Canon

Because I’m on a bit of an Endersmile binge--

This is all gonna be very messy and just me putting my thoughts together and I’ll probably not be going through the VODs for exact timestamps or anything because that’s exhausting and I applaud the people who do, but here are my thoughts on Endersmile and why I’m 100% convinced it’s canon. They’re besties your honor.

/rp Any names mentioned are referring to their dsmp characters and not the streamers themselves unless specified

First off: The Disc. Dream trusts Ranboo, a lot. He trusts him so much that he literally gave Ranboo one of the two discs he needed to pull off his big plan at the finale. He trusted Ranboo, so much that Ranboo deciding to give the disc back to Tommy or Tubbo wasn’t an option, even though Ranboo was friends with both, which he knew. I don’t know why he gave Ranboo the disc, or how he got the disc from Skeppy in the first place, and I’m sure he did have a hundred and one back up plans for if Ranboo did decide to give Tommy the disc, but asking Ranboo to hold onto the disc in the first place means Dream trusted him to a degree, and that’s big coming from Mr. “Reserved”.

Second: Knowing Dream’s Voice. Ranboo knows/remembers Dream’s voice well enough that he hears it whenever he’s in the panic room, that his subconscious uses Dream’s voice to force Ranboo to confront his fears. For a guy who hasn’t had any one on one time or conversations with Dream in VC on stream, he sure does a really good job imagining his voice. /s 

Basically, they must have spoken, a lot. They must have spent time together outside planning for things or exchanging items or whatever. So much time, in fact, that Dream and Ranboo both end up sharing the same ideology of “People not sides” of “One big happy family” of “Being the person that stops conflicts” of “Being on all sides” of “Mediating between those sides” of “Choosing the side they think is right”. 

During Ranboo’s prison visit dream/nightmare, the Voice tells Ranboo that the only reason Ranboo hasn’t been hearing it lately, is because he hasn’t been speaking with Dream as often. That Ranboo and Dream had talked with each other nearly everyday. And I’m inclined to believe that because the mere existence of the voice proves he’s heard Dream’s voice a lot, or he has a very good memory of Dream’s voice, which, considering his memory problems probably isn’t the case. This is further supported by how ever since Dream’s been in prison, ever since Ranboo banned himself from the prison, he hasn’t heard even a hint of Dream’s voice, not even as he’s remembering more and more.

Third: The Disc War Finale. During the disc war finale, we have in universe proof and out of character confirmation from both cc!Dream and cc!Ranboo that the characters had been staring at each other during the entire thing. Some friends on a discord server have also pointed out how Ranboo appeared to be avoiding Tommy’s gaze unless Tommy’s distracted. And during the entire thing Ranboo’s the only one not holding out a weapon, instead he’s got a book and quill in his hand. We’ve now also got confirmation that Ranboo was Enderwalking during the Disc War Finale, which makes all the strange behaviors make sense because if they’re friends, if they’re allies, then Ranboo didn’t show up to fight Dream. Then Dream might’ve been trying to convey something to Ranboo, like perhaps trying to keep Ranboo from doing something stupid and revealing their alliance. Especially if he planned on being put in Pandora, he really doesn’t need his friend to try and “save” him and ruin the whole plan.

Fourth: The Voice. I am inclined to believe the things the voice says. Why? Because everything the voice is talking about are all the things Ranboo doesn’t want to confront, doesn’t want to see, doesn’t want to remember. The voice isn’t malicious. It’s not even Dream, it’s just using Dream’s voice to make Ranboo listen. And Ranboo knows it’s just himself. (also out of character confirmation from the cc!s that the voice is NOT Dream and never has been, it’s just a manifestation of all the shit Ranboo’s repressed coming up and slapping him in the face) Everything the voice does, all the things it says, is trying to get Ranboo to remember the “bad” things he’s done, to remember that he was on Dream’s side. To force him to face that side of himself that might be capable of doing bad things, if there’s a good enough reason. It exaggerates things, it makes them out to be worse than they actually are, but that’s how it’s able to get Ranboo’s attention, that’s how it’s able to force him to think about those things. Ranboo won’t do anything until he’s forced to face the problem, the Voice is just trying to get Ranboo to do that.

This is why I believe Ranboo DID blow up the community house. Why he’s working with or has worked for Dream in the past. Why he willingly gave Dream his memory book, possibly to create a visible conflict between them and ensure no one would connect them as allies, like what Dream wanted to do with Punz. And also because the other things it’s said, such as Ranboo being given the Cat disc to hold onto, have been proven to be true. Nothing the Voice has said has been confirmed a lie. And many of the things it’s talked about aren’t things we or Ranboo can find the answer to unless he talks to Dream, which is until the dude’s rescued from the prison, isn’t happening. (cc!Dream where’s your Dream lore?!?!?!)

That said, if Ranboo was the one to blow up the community house, then Dream was covering for him during the Disc War Finale. He didn’t have to. He could’ve thrown Ranboo under the bus. But he chose to take on that blame, make himself look even worse in the eyes of everyone gathered there while he was at their mercy, to protect Ranboo from similar persecution. Doesn’t this remind you of anything? And Ranboo’s got a track record of making friends with those who help him.

Fifth: The Visits. Ranboo has visited Dream in prison multiple times. At the very least at least 2 times that we have direct confirmation of, and probably even more. His visits are consistent enough that just a few days after Ranboo bans himself from the prison, Dream notices and starts a strike, tells Sapnap that Ranboo’s stopped visiting, asks him, his best friend who literally threatened to perma-kill him if he were to ever leave his horrible situation, to send a message to Ranboo. (which, I guess Dream still kinda trusts Sapnap despite everything that’s happened, huh?) 

Why would Ranboo visit? Unless they’re friends, unless they’re allies? Because even Dream’s so called best friend only ever visited once. Even Bad who Dream claims to have been the nicest only ever visited once. And while Tommy and Quackity visited more than once, their multiple visits have very clear reasons behind them, while Ranboo’s just, don’t. 

And consider: How did Ranboo know about the things that were said during the Disc War Finale, word for word, line for line, that he wasn’t present for, unless someone’s told him? Unless he heard about it from Dream himself. Unless that was what they were talking about. Unless that’s part of the reason Ranboo kept visiting Dream. 

Sixth: The Lessons. I don’t know about you, but giving life lessons to someone sounds like something you’d do with a friend, and not just a “puppet”. The whole lessons book gives off really mentor mentee vibes, and considering how Ranboo’s following in Dream’s goal of stopping conflict and uniting the server, well. And the lessons aren’t even malicious, or designed to push Ranboo away from others. In fact, many of them, especially the last few ones we see, are designed to protect Ranboo! Unless Ranboo’s safety was a top priority for Dream, there’s not much reason to pass those lessons down. This lines up incredibly well with Dream taking the blame of the community house’s destruction during the Disc War Finale, as well as his protective streak at his own expense when it comes to his allies and the people he cares about. Which means Ranboo is someone he cares about, which means they’re friends! They’re besties your honor!

Seventh: Ranboo’s Vehement Denial. Ranboo is infamous for being an unreliable narrator, for being in incredible denial despite all evidence supporting otherwise. Which means his vehement denial that Dream can be anything but bad is a fairly obvious red flag that that’s not true, and that Ranboo has reason to believe it’s not true, but chooses to actively ignore or forget those reasons and attempts to reinforce the “everything’s Dream’s fault, he can never change and will always be bad” mentality, that sounds like something he stole from Tommy or c!Dream antis, because he doesn’t want to face the fact that he has reasons for believing the opposite. At this point, I am 100% on board with the idea that all these unprompted instances of Dream hate is just a blatant cover up of how that’s not true at all. (Which he touches on, ever so briefly, when he renovates the second stronghold room)

Aaaaand that’s it! For the most part. I could touch on how Enderboo is hoarding all the backbone in this relationship and that the dynamic between Enderboo and Ranboo is closer to that of someone waking up after a sugar high or going for three days straight without sleep than it is two completely separate people or someone who’s literally sleepwalking (and that “Enderboo” is his normal state and “Ranboo” is the sleep deprived not thinking straight state). But this post is already obscenely long and I should end it here. 

TL;DR: They’re besties, your honor.

Anyways, if you got this far, thanks for reading!

#my thoughts #my posts #character analysis #endersmile #c!ranboo #long post #dreblr friendly

[plsimsuchasimp]

gone (cheating ft. kenma)

an anon asked me to write another version of this post, so here it is. i’m sorry about this, it’s definitely not my best work.

request: “Can you do another cheating fic but with kenma since he is my favorite character”

genre: angst

ft: kenma kozume x gn reader, a little bit of kuroo tetsuro

wc: 1.8k

warnings: fainting, angst, implied cheating

Flopping down on your bed, you picked up your phone and shot off a quick text message to your boyfriend, Kenma.

“hey babe, can we call? it’s been a really long week and I haven’t seen you in forever,” you wrote, pressing the send button with only a moment’s hesitation. 

Sighing, you scrolled upwards a bit, reading through the message history. Recently, his texts had been getting shorter and more abrupt, often making excuses when you asked to see him or talk to him.

1 new message. Distracted, you scrolled down to see Kenma’s text. 

“sorry can’t i was just about to sleep”

Frowning, you glanced at the top of the screen. 10:53 pm. He never went to bed this early, let alone slept. Your throat constricted, but you tried to brush it off, the thoughts whispering at the back of your head like malicious pixies, insecurities and harsh words. You stared at the simple string of words, wondering what to say. Are you okay? you’ve seemed off recently. No, you were probably just overthinking it.

“okay, have a good night! ily” Read 10:57 pm. No response.

Putting the phone down, you tried to push it to the back of your thoughts, but it nagged at you. Turning on your PC, you logged onto discord and noticed Kenma’s status. He was playing a multiplayer game, in a VC with one other person. Right-clicking, you ignored the feeling of distrust and clicked on the other player’s profile. 

You knew her- she was a friend of Kenma’s from school. Kenma had promised you they were just friends, that you had nothing to worry about, but the insecurities crept in again as you realized he’d been spending a lot more time with her instead of you. Biting your lip, you looked back at your phone, the accusing text glaring at you. It seemed innocuous, seemed like you were overreacting. Kenma didn’t really get why you were insecure- he always told you he only had eyes for you, but lately, it didn’t really feel like it.

The last time you two had hung out, he’d laughed at something on his phone, then turned away when you asked to see what it was, muttering something vague about a funny tiktok. You didn’t think much of it at the time, but with thoughts crowding your head, you wondered if it really had been just a video. Kozume had always been distant- you understood that when you started dating him, but was it too much to ask for a scrap of his attention? 

You were torn. On one hand, you wanted to trust Kenma, believe that everything he told you was true and he still loved you like he used to. On the other, your gut was telling you there was something off. Praying that he wasn’t hiding anything, you entered a different browser and logged into his Discord account. You’d given each other the passwords to your socials a while ago, your way of showing that you had nothing to hide.

Incorrect login information. The words appeared in red on the screen, the password field outlined in red. You tried again, ensuring that there were no typos, and it still registered as wrong. Your stomach sank, staring at the message on the screen. He changed his password and didn’t tell you. At this point, you knew something was wrong, but you didn’t want to ask him in fear of seeming insecure or clingy, both traits Kenma disliked. Before you could lose yourself further in the swirling tornado of your thoughts, your phone dinged with a new message. It was from Kuroo.

“hey y/n, are you up? we need to talk.”

Brow furrowing, you responded with “yeah, is everything okay?” He read the text, and then the call icon rang at the top of the screen, red and green buttons buzzing gently. You accepted the call, answering with “Hi Kuroo.”

“Hey y/n,” he said, his voice quieter than normal. 

“Are you okay?” He sounded off, sad somehow.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. There’s something I need to tell you, though.” You paused for a second, hoping it wasn’t what you thought it was, before he continued. “Kenma- Kenma cheated on you.”

“W-what?” Time seemed to stop. you couldn’t, didn’t want to believe your ears. Your breath caught in your throat, shock freezing your body in place.

“Shit, y/n, I’m so sorry. I just found out.” Kuroo was still talking, but you weren’t hearing him. It seemed impossible, even though you’d seen it coming. “Y/n? Are you okay?” 

Startled, you choked out, “Yeah, I’m okay, just a little shocked.” a little was an understatement. “H-how did you find out?”

“Well,” he sighed, “I saw him kiss her behind the cafe yesterday. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I was still figuring out what to do.” Guilt laced his words, and you got the feeling there was still something he hadn’t said.

“What else?” From his slight intake of breath, you could tell you’d caught him off guard. He was silent for a moment.

“He’s been texting her on Discord for the past month or so. I think you know her, (f/n)?” You felt your heart crash into your stomach, and your worst fears were confirmed. Switching back onto your computer, you saw that Kenma was still playing the game with the girl, and your stomach clenched. 

“Yeah, I know her.” He noticed that your voice was quiet, subdued, and he swallowed.

“Y/n, I’m- I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.” He was silent then, waiting for you to speak.

“No, no, it’s fine,” You said, your voice oddly calm. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Of course. Hey, are you going to be okay?” He asked, unsure what was really happening inside your head.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.” Before he had a chance to say anything else, you hung up, mind spinning.

Oddly enough, you didn’t feel anything. You knew in the back of your head that this was your way of coping, that the hurt and anger and sadness would come later, but for now you didn’t care. Methodically, you went to all of your socials and blocked Kenma, hesitating only slightly to block his number in your phone.

You shut off your computer and turned your phone to silent, sitting in silence on your bed. Slowly, your eyes filled with tears that spilled down your cheeks, expressionless besides the gleaming tear streaks staining your face. Your shoulders shook, and everything seemed to crash down at once. 

Your body couldn’t keep up, the sobs overtaking you until you were lightheaded. The room was spinning and the shining moonlight was glinting through the blinds at odd angles, seeming to distort your vision. You couldn’t breathe, and then everything faded to black.

You woke up a few seconds later with your head on the pillow, dazed and hearing the blood pound through your head. You groaned and lay there for a couple of minutes, letting your breathing slow. 

You got up and brushed your teeth, staring at your puffy eyes in the mirror. It hurt, to know the man you loved didn’t feel the same anymore. What did you do wrong? Were you too clingy, not good enough, not there for him enough? Why would he cheat on you? 

Guilt vibrated around you, and it brought back the memories of every other time. It must have been your fault- it always was. 

Sleep took you uneasily that night, creeping in around your obsessive, painful thoughts and lulling you to distraction.

The next morning at school, you wiped the pain from your face and moved through the day in a haze. You saw Kenma in the hallway, leaning against the lockers on his phone, and avoided eye contact. When you saw her, (f/n), anger and hurt swelled up in your stomach, and you tried to swallow it and avoid lashing out. 

Later, Kenma stared at his phone as an error message popped up when he tried to text you. We’re sorry, the number you’re trying to reach is unavailable. A pit formed in his stomach, and he went to his other socials, reaching the same conclusions in other places. 

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, amber eyes scanning the hallway. You were already gone, though, and he moved through the swarm of people, eyes focused on the exit. Where would you have gone? 

When he showed up at your house that afternoon, you were surprised. He doesn’t waste time, showing you his phone and bluntly asking “Why did you block me?” Your eyes widened to see him slouching there, clearly uncomfortable with going out of his way to do this. “Are you angry at me?”

“Kozume, I don’t really want to talk to you right now.” His face twisted at your use of his last name.

“Why not?” 

At this point, you sighed, tired of everything. “You cheated on me. That’s why.” Your voice cracks in the last sentence, and the world stops.

His stomach drops as you turn away, the weight of the world on your shoulders. “N-no. Y/n. Please don’t go!” 

Kenma’s not good with words, and you understand that. Sometimes, though, it feels like he’s not trying. As he shook his head frantically, chin-length hair swaying around his beautiful face, you could tell he wanted to say something, but he can’t.

“What is there to say, Kozume?” Your eyes were brimming with tears, your heart squeezing at the sight of him.

“I didn’t- I didn’t mean to.” Even he knows how weak this sounds, how pathetic of him, and when he looks back up at you, his eyes are shiny. “I love you.”

His words ring hollow, and you scoff. “Where was that love when you kissed her behind the cafe? Where was it when you were constantly texting her on discord? Where was it when I needed you and you weren’t there?” You shake your head, heartbreak written all over your features. It’s then that he remembers the declined calls, the unanswered texts, the neglect he subjected you to as he pushed you away.

“I hope you’re happy with her, because we’re done.”

He didn’t even have a good reason this time. All he knew was that he wanted you to stay, but he knew he didn’t deserve a second chance. Against his will, a tear slid down his cheek and dropped to the floor, making him sniffle. 

There was nothing you wanted more than to pull him into your arms, cry into his shoulder, but you couldn’t. It hurt too much. You stepped back and slammed the door on him for the final time.

Leaning your head against the door, all of your emotions spilled out. You were silently crying, the ache in your chest almost too much to bear. You thought you heard your name outside the door, whispered just loud enough for you to hear, but you just sank down to the floor and let the tears fall.

On the other side of the door, Kenma’s phone buzzed. It was a text from her, and the disgust and anger that filled his stomach at the sight was enough for him to know he’d never forgive himself for hurting you like this.

“I love you.”

a/n: srry for the anticlimatic ending i was just feeling super bad and not in the mood to write but i wanted to get this out here, hope you like it.

#kenma kuzome #kenma x y/n #kenma x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #kozume kenma #kenma angst #angst #kozume angst #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo #kozume

[gemma-collins-ily]

Jesper with s/o who really knows how to kick ass (aka sis was trained by someone)

Jesper with a Trained S/O

a/n - I love the pairing of Jesper and the pet name honey too much aaah. Also this was written over two nights when I was half asleep so forgive me if it isn't top notch xoxo 💗💝

Warnings: fighting, poison, bruises/cuts but no real mentions of blood or anything

so

Kaz obviously employed you because of how amazing you are at any type of combat

but when asked the specific reason, he had only responded with a cryptic answer that gave the Crows nothing

"They're an asset to the team. Just as all of you are."

you would train at extremely early hours of the morning, often seen jogging back up the stairs to your room drenched in sweat right when others first awoke

but no one knew what you were actually doing

until Inej caught you in the training room in the Slat, practically beating a punching bag

the funny thing was, you didn't look as though you were a street fighter, one who had developed their own adapted technique that would get them by in a scrap

your punches were calculated, muscles flexing in just the right way and stature perfect

it was the ideal stance for a real fight in a ring

she didn't say anything and instead decided to get up just a little earlier each day in order to observe you

she was caught when she let the door creak accidentally, but instead of kicking her out of the room you only offered to leave so she could use it

she refused and said she'd rather watch you

and she did from then on, you having no protest or apparent problem with it

sometimes, you'd go up against Inej and circle each other warily, not daring to underestimate the other

you had only been on a few low level heists with the Crows at that point, Kaz mercifully easing you into the work

but it was noticed by Nina that whenever it was necessary to run and hide, you could sprint with full stamina and hardly break a sweat unless it was done for a long amount of time

she also noticed your heart rate barely raised

she brought it up once

"Ugh, (Y/N), I'm so jealous, you literally must be super-human, how are you so energised?"

this was said through panting breaths as she bent to rest her hands on her knees, much like the others were doing

this meant in turn it wasn't really registered by anyone

only you

you didn't really mind people knowing you were trained in combat, but didn't flaunt it or let anyone know without them finding out

you would act casually when found out, downplaying your skills

everything was a threat in the Barrel, and saying one wrong thing near one wrong person could cost you your head

you hadn't stiffened when Nina said that, only nodding and grinning, leaning against the wall with your hands in your pockets yet not saying anything verbally

you knew how to play the game and in order to do that, you had to let them subconsciously dismiss the very idea itself

Albert Einstein iq I'm telling you

psychology at its very core

you know

so

it's all forgotten until they see your skills put to use on a heist

if you've watched now you see me 2 and watched the spectacular card sequence, the next part is basically that

your tactful hand at cards could beat Kaz Brekker himself

on the heist, you know one of Kaz's sacred backup plans

only one, mind you

so, it's like the card sequence

you're all going in as guests but you and Kaz will shoot the card with the information between you and your separate searches

"Hands the other way, ma'am."

Your hands flew the opposite way, palms now facing the guard as the card was quickly flipped between your fingers, and with a single, efficient flick of the wrist Kaz had it in his possession.

"Alright, on your way you go."

Jesper had only seen because he was stationed behind you, otherwise he never would have known it was so seamless

Nina told them later that kind of thing seemed to be a regular occurrence as your heart rate had been completely average

showing how confident you are, go bestie

it was true

you and Kaz had trained for that heist often however barely for any length of time at all

the best part for you was that you had been checking how noticeable it was and flipping the card back and forth between you in meetings

Jesper's eyes had widened comically when he observed the whole thing and his jaw dropped

you laughed as you stepped past and kissed his jaw, making it close promptly as he chased after you, desperate for answers

your cards can also be poisoned

and in another heist they doubted you

because they had seen you help pull something off but not use any as a weapon

you were motioned by Kaz to appear innocent until another signal was given, one of which only you and Inej had been paying attention to and so understood

but after you hissed at Jesper out of the corner of your mouth, he stayed subdued too

you remained eerily silent as they pushed you against the wall and searched your pockets

the cards were brought out and ridiculed, even if you had cleverly concealed knives, now you knew how you would kill these men

after the go ahead was given, you burst into action, swooping downward and catching the man holding you off guard

you collected the cards and grinned as you stepped back, now the front most Crow in your little pyramid formation at the end of the street

"And what are they gonna do?"

A malicious glint appeared in your eye as Jesper tapped your shoulder, thinking you had backed yourself into a corner here.

but then, your hand flew out and struck one clean in the eye, making them wail and drop to their knees as you flung another card, swiping a man's cheek

they did not fall until a minute later, that minute consisting of you whipping cards at them and Jesper tugging on your sleeve

he'd do that a lot, before he knew of your training and maybe after too

it wasn't that he thought you couldn't handle yourself, just that he wanted to protect you in any way possible

so pulling you behind him was a knee jerk reaction, desiring to save his loved one from any possible threat or danger

he would do anything for you, let a bullet pierce his chest, a dagger land in his throat, as long as you emerged okay

it was only later, when you got Kaz to pick up the cards, saying it would be easier to wash them with a cloth than learn how to balance the slightly differing weight of a new pack

you made Kaz do it because he had leather protection and knew of the poison darkening the edges of the cards to an inky black

they were kept in a special and specific packet so there was no possible way of you being hurt unless you were completely careless

that was completely unable to happen because you were wary enough to know what to do and what not to

but Jesper still insisted you left them in his coat after he found out, wanting you to be totally risk free

"What if you're not with me? How will I use my weapons?"

"Well, my darling, that will not be the case," he paused to snicker at his unintentional joke about the container then continued, "because Kaz will absolutely keep us together at all times."

You hummed thoughtfully, "How do you know that?"

There was an immediate answer, no moment of hesitation from your sharpshooter, "He simply can't handle how fantastically amazing I am on his own, knowing I am far superior and so will continue to pair us together to avoid having to face that foe."

"Jes, honey, he could partner you with Inej or Nina or Matthias, you know that, right?"

He was stumped and his mouth opened before closing once more.

the cards were still not handed back though

don't worry, new ones were purchased after Jesper insisted on 'clinging' to the other pack like a lifeline, according to Kaz

he did find out about this after you saved his ass in a fight with them

he was so mad, not that you'd defied him but that you had put yourself in danger with the cards

but after Inej pointed out he had to trust you at some moment in time, he softened

because how could you think he didn't trust you?

he didn't ever want you to have to answer that question and set about trying to rectify the situation

you received breakfast in bed and apology cuddles

"I trust you."

It was the mantra he had been repeating for days and you smiled as your hand came to rest upon his jawline.

"I know, darling. I know."

You were met with a soft kiss to your collarbone as his head dipped to fall into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist in a tight but gentle hug.

He hummed before continuing, "Just wanted to make sure, honey."

the cards were left wordlessly on your bedside table, drawing a small sated smile from your lips

after he came to terms with the fact that you were a Dreg, a Crow, someone who would be targeted because you were entwined with him, he became just a little overprotective

not that you minded

just reassuring him often you were okay and he was too

after Wylan came along, you politely requested to know if he could make some kind of thing that would make the cards easier to collect

he came up with the idea of a magnetic substance that could be brushed over the centre of the cards, meaning if you kept one in your hand and waved it over the others, there would be no time delay in which you would have to pick them up

again

the added weight, even such a small increment, affected the momentum needed and angle necessary

for days, you were flinging your cards at a wall, barely stopping to eat, wanting to be useful

Jesper dragged you back to bed several times in the early mornings with coaxing syllables and sweet words, promises on how you would get it right tomorrow

"Sweetheart, just come back to bed. Wait a few hours and try again. You're so close to getting this. I just know it."

As you wrapped yourself in the comforter his hand came to stroke your cheek, "There you go, see, you were looking half asleep on your feet, doing yourself no good anyway, lovely. Or those cards."

when witnessing your physical combat skills, Jesper would let a surprised chuckle fall, not fully in control of himself

watching you flip an enemy who had underestimated you over your shoulder never got old

neither did seeing your boot swivel slightly on their chest as you proved just how skilled you were

awww such pure and innocent love

"Don't think I won't beat you in a fight again, Lion. Or there won't be another opportunity for you to."

"That's my partner!"

"Alright Jes, bit much but thanks for hyping me up."

Just as you turned and both of you were about to walk away, a cold and clammy hand clamped over your ankle and you instantaneously recoiled.

Then, before Jesper or the Dime Lion knew what was happening, your fist connected with his stomach, hand coming up to cover your false and exaggerated yawn.

"So cool." Was whispered from your sharpshooter as you stalked off, boots clicking on the gravel pavement.

he had forced you into a chair, begging you to let him take care of your now bruising knuckles and you begrudgingly agreed

"Wasn't so bad, huh?"

"Don't push it." Was the joking response as his arm slung over your waist, and his thumbs brushed over the bandage he had applied so carefully as his hand covered the one you had let hang at your hip.

"Wouldn't dream of it, darling. Don't have the foggiest why you would assume such of me."

if you ever couldn't handle the entire situation and obtained an injury, Jesper would stay by your side

when a minor one, like a small gash on your forehead appeared, he would insist on personally caring for it

and if major, he would hold your hand, allowing you to squeeze it as hard as you wanted when the pain became too much

the same went for the other way round, you giggling at bandages wrapped all around his head like a bandana

but only after you knew he was alright

if tears filled your eyes, caused by relief, his thumb would come up to brush them away and slightly pull the corners of your mouth into a weak and wavering smile

"I'm alright. I'm okay, honey, you just remember that."

the both of you would press gentle goodnight kisses to each others foreheads or lips, forgetting a bruise or cut

this would end in frantic apologies and inevitable laughter when you kept speaking over one another

basically, Jesper thinks you're so badass, amazing and fantastic, reminding you just how highly he regards you everyday

you will protect him and he will protect you, no matter what

#jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey x you #jesper fahey fics #jesper fahey fluff #jesper fahey #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone x you #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse x you #grishaverse fic #grishaverse #jesper fahey headcanons

[adorerdraco]

Good Enough ✧ Draco x Hufflepuff!Reader

Request: hiii i love your writing!! can you write about a sweet hufflepuff and how everyone thinks they aren’t a good pair together so one day Pansy bullies the reader into breaking it off with Draco because she feels like she’s not good enough for him then draco finds out and he’s really mad at Pansy?

Another seventh year AU where Voldermort never existed !

Warnings: bullying, slight angst, crying, cursing (barely), sad!draco, angry!draco, implied smut towards the end (also extra mean slytherins for the purpose of this imagine but i have nothing against them i <3 them as much as any other house)

Words: 4.5K

A/N: hiii thank youuuu 🥺💗 !!!!!! but ahhhh omg im a hufflepuff so i hope i delivered good hufflepuff energy in this oneee :’))) i think this might be my new favorite thing ive written omg but i do not own gif 

There was truly no explanation how you, a kind Hufflepuff, managed to become friends, let alone a couple, with the proud and arrogant Slytherin Prince, Draco Malfoy. 

On the outside, your relationship to everyone seemed uncanny and plain wrong. Even your friends and housemates had looked down on it for a while but eventually came around and just let you be. You couldn’t say the same for the Slytherin’s, however, because if there was one house they disliked more than Gryffindor; it was Hufflepuff.

They berated you and Draco for weeks after they found out he had started a relationship with you. They scowled at you when you would walk by them sometimes calling you names depending on whether or not Draco was by your side. He always defended you and you did your best to ignore them, but they were relentless. You had only been dating for about a month now and the tantalizing comments from Slytherin’s and anyone else who wanted tear the two of you down were right now seeming endless.

“Why can’t people leave us alone,” you said sadly to him one night. You were lying with him in a patch of grass outside the castle, head against his chest as his hand lazily traced patterns onto your bicep.

“They’re only jealous,” he sneered quietly. “People get mad at what they can’t have or what they can't understand.”

Draco’s patience with people was worsening each and every day. His housemates, regularly, would corner him in the common room and interrogate him with questions that made him want to rip his hair out.

“Is this some sort of prank you haven’t told us about, Malfoy?”

“A Hufflepuff? Have you gone mad?”

“Is she blackmailing you with something, mate?”

“Haven’t you thought about how that makes us Slytherin’s look?”

“She’s a blood-traitor!”

The questioning would always lead to him yelling and threatening everyone aggressively before he locked himself in his Prefect dorm or would leave the common room altogether in a fury. Those were the days he would find you after he calmed down and would hug you tightly, pressing kisses all over your face as he praised you with everything he adored about you to how happy you made him and how perfect you were for him. 

You, on the other hand, were dealing with much worse. You never told Draco some of the awful things people would say to you when he wasn’t around. You would stand up for yourself very rarely, confrontation not really being your first approach to handling things but when the insults were bad enough, you were forced to.

You would always hear a variation of the same things said either directly to you or from obvious whispering, majority of them being from Slytherin and the occasional judgmental comment from others.

“Filthy Hufflepuff!”

“Can’t believe one of them is dating one of ours.”

“What does Malfoy even see in her?”

“You’d think someone who’s supposed to be kind wouldn’t want anything to do with such an arse.”

More than ever, Draco found himself giving you an excessive amount of compliments and reassurances that he thought would balance out the insults and criticisms you would tell him about or he would witness. Everything he would tell you was true, of course, but you always felt like he said them out of pity or like he had to.

“I appreciate you trying to make it better, but you don’t have to keep complimenting me, Dray.” You’ve said to him countless times.

And he would often respond with, “but I need you to know how I feel about you.”

Despite the constant uphill battle, your relationship with the platinum blond was everything you hoped for and more. Considering your friendship had started on rocky beginnings a year ago, you would have never thought you’d be with him now.  You couldn’t thank the stars more for when your aged and nearly blind owl had flown straight into the back of his head, pecking at him while he tried to swat it away which then led to him giving you a piece of his mind and trying to hex your owl - causing you to try to hex him just as McGonagall happened to be passing by the fiasco that landed both of you in a months-long detention for reckless magic usage. It was in detention when the two of you were forced to spend time together and realized that the other wasn’t as bad as they thought.

Draco, much like everyone else, always believed Hufflepuffs to be weak and cowardly, too kind for their own good - but he quickly learned how common of a misconception that was the longer he knew you. You always fought for what was morally right, defended those you love and are loyal to courageously, and were sweet and friendly with everyone you talked to whether you knew them or not.

He gravitated towards your kindness and empathetic approach to everything. He loved to see the smiles you put on people’s faces or the way animals would randomly come up to you and immediately trust you enough to give them gentle pets that they always leaned into. He even loved the way you talked to everyone as your equals, something he rarely saw in his environment. Everything you did was a vast difference to what he saw on the daily from his cold and aloof peers, but it was a difference he enjoyed. He wished so deeply that everyone could see and understand how amazing you were to him and he was determined to make it happen.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked shyly as he held your hand tightly in his, walking you slowly over to his large group of his closest Slytherin friends that were all gathered around a bench under a tree in the courtyard.

The Prince of Slytherin believed that if he could get his friends to at least tolerate you, then everyone else would follow in suit. He only associated himself with the best and most influential of his house so if there was anyone that could improve his current situation; it would be them. You were a little uneasy about his plan, but later agreed when he had convinced you that his idea couldn’t and wouldn’t fail.

“Of course it is!” He exclaimed encouragingly. “Plus, I’m Draco Malfoy, they’ll like anything I tell them to like.”

“Okay,” you sighed, rolling your eyes slightly at his boast.

The closer you got to them, the more you felt your hands begin to sweat and the heat crawling up your face. They all began to turn towards the two of you, their eyes focusing on you and you only with a pointed gaze. You started to realize how greatly you underestimated how intimidating they looked. Especially the one girl who made it her mission to bother you every chance she could get - always from afar while she pointed at you and whispered something into her friend’s ears while they laughed or when she would pass by you and say something rude under her breath.

“Look what Malfoy’s dragged in!” Pansy Parkinson called out with a malicious smirk on her face as she eyed you.

“Give it a rest, Pansy,” Blaise sighed, “If Malfoy wants us to meet his little friend then so be it.”

“Not my little friend, my girlfriend,” Draco corrected angrily as the two of you finally reached the group. “This is Y/N and I wanted you all to meet her since I plan on having her around for a long while, so you might as well get used to it.”

“Long while? Poor thing can’t even introduce herself,” Pansy laughed tauntingly.

“I think Draco introduced me just fine right now but if you want, I’ll do it again to make you feel better,” you smiled a big fake toothy grin at her. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

Everyone snickered at your response, watching for the girl’s reaction as her nostrils flared in irritation. Draco smiled to himself and gave your hand a quick squeeze, feeling proud that you found a way to talk back to her in the nicest way possible.

“Right, well, I’m sure you know this is; Goyle, Crabbe, Zabini, Pike, Flint, Nott, and...” Draco pointed to everyone, trailing off when he reached the only girl in the group, “I don’t think that one needs an introduction, she rather do it herself, right Parkinson?”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, giving the blond a false squinty-eyed grin with attitude.

“So, you want us to be the nice to the Hufflepuff then?” Zabini questions, pointing a finger towards you.

“Yes, I want you to be nice to, Y/N,” Draco corrected again, his hand getting tighter in your grasp as he spoke. “That goes for all of you and everyone else in this bloody house. I don’t want to hear anything bad about her or us coming from anyone ever again or you’ll have me to answer to. I don’t care how friendly we are.”

“So he has to defend you too now?” Pansy spoke again, “Merlin, it’s a wonder how you Hufflepuff sort even survive in this world.”

Before anyone could say anything, you mustered up all the courage you had and stepped forward towards the irked girl in front of you.

“Listen, I don’t want any more trouble with you or anyone,” you rushed out. “I just want to go about my day without having to hear how disgusting and weak I am.”

She opened her mouth to retaliate but Blaise put a hand in front of her and pushed her back before she got any closer to you.

“Alright, we’ll try,” he answered for the group quickly in an annoyed tone, “but I can’t promise that for the rest of Slytherin. They really don’t like you guys together, thinks it makes them look bad. Eventually, they’ll get tired of it and move on to the next.”

“That’s as good as its gonna get,” Goyle guffawed, Crabbe and Pike snickering alongside him.

You sighed, looking up at Draco and slightly tugging at his hand while you silently begged him to take you out of there but he didn’t catch the hint and instead did the complete opposite when he had turned towards the only boy in the group who seemed to have brains.

“Zabini, can I talk to you really quick?” He asked gruffly. Blaise deeply sighed and nodded, the two boys breaking away from the group and stopping a few feet away before talking in angry hushed voices to each other.

You - all of a sudden felt very small and sick, your eyes frantically bouncing around the group as they watched you squirm. Pansy took this as her chance to step closer towards you, stopping a few inches away from you while a smirk made its way onto her face.

“Since you obviously don’t see the bigger picture, I’ll paint it for you,” she began contemptuously, “you and Draco really don’t belong together, at all. Sure, you might think everything’s fine right now, but what’ll happen when he gets tired of defending you and proving you to everyone. You think Hogwarts is your problem? Just wait until you meet the Malfoy’s. Do you really think his father would like or even tolerate a filthy blood traitor like you?”

You gaped at her, taking a few shaky steps away from her as her words hit you like a truck.

“Think about it, Y/L/N,” she gets in your face again, her hand reaching up to grip your shoulder tightly to hold you in place. “He needs to be with someone of his status, a pure-blooded Slytherin who comes from a good wealthy family who holds all the same beliefs as the Malfoy’s. If I were you, I’d end it before you ruin his life any more than you already have and end up leaving him without a family or his inheritance.”

“Are you trying to say that ‘someone’ should be you?” You question through gritted teeth, shrugging your shoulder hard out of her clawed grasp.

“I never said that,” she smiles, “but who am I to say it shouldn’t be?” 

Pansy tauntingly walked away from you, a smug look on her face as she noticed just how obviously she had hurt you. You wanted to run away and cry, but you held it together for the sake of your last remaining dignity and so that you wouldn’t please your assailant even more than you already have.

Draco turned to stroll back towards the group with Blaise, his eyes landing on your shuddering figure and the broken look in your eyes as they met his. He looked around at the rest of the group who were talking amongst themselves, unknowing to them that Parkinson had just ripped a new one on you. She stood around them, looking at her nails with an uninterested look in her eyes and when she felt Draco’s eyes on her, she looked up and smiled at him innocently. 

‘Bitch,’ you thought.

He slowly walked towards you, taking your hand and deeply frowning when you immediately slipped it out of his.

“What’s wrong?” His voice dripped with concern, his sad gray’s searching your face for any answer as to why you were suddenly acting so cold.

“I need to talk to you,” you breathed out. “Alone.”

He nodded, instinctively reaching out for your hand only for you to reject it again. He felt queasy at the response, his heart falling to his stomach as you turned around and began walking away. His legs were moving hastily behind you, a dooming tension had fallen between the two of you and he couldn’t for the life of him find a reason why.

Pansy’s words were like a game of pinball on a constant loop in your mind. Your thoughts were bumping and flying haphazardly as you tried to make sense of them and what you were about to do. And as much as you hated to admit it - the wench was right. You would never be able to offer Draco and his family anything that would ever be close to enough. You were just a sweet, regular Hufflepuff, someone far from who his family expected to date. And what if you did end up staying with him? You figured you would end up breaking up years later when he would be forced to marry someone else. Or in the slight chance, he fought against that, there was no way you’d forgive yourself if he lost his family and his future because of your own selfish needs.

You stopped at an empty corridor, sitting at one of the windowsills you regularly sat at with the platinum blond when the two of you snuck out at night to meet each other. Your head fell into your hands, your thoughts raging louder in your head and now through your body as you began to unwillingly shake. The held back tears had finally broken out in a waterfall of sadness, frustration, and grief.

Draco only watched, his heartbreaking at the sight as he kneeled in front of you, his hands resting on your knees while he tried to figure out what to say.

“Darling, please tell me what’s gotten you like this,” he pleads sadly. “If it’s about what Blaise said, I made a deal with him so he would try and help.”

“No, it’s not that,” you answered, choking back the lump in a feeble attempt to try and get yourself calmed down enough to talk to him.

He sat back on his heels, his hand running down his face in distress as he racked through his brain for anything else that might have gotten you like this. He let you cry for a bit, feeling useless as he watched you go through an internal battle he had no clue about.

“Then what is it? Tell me and I’ll fix it,” he says softly when he saw your tears had finally been reduced to stray droplets on your face.

“You can’t,” you sniffle. Your hand weakly brushed over his paled slender fingers that were holding your knee gently. He turned his palm upwards for you and you placed your shaking hand in his while you basked in the final moments of his warmth. You regrettably slipped out of his grip before you spoke the words you couldn’t take back. “We can’t be together anymore.”

Draco blinked, his stomach dropping as soon as the words left your mouth. “What?”

You stood up, backing away from him as you shook your head. “Everyone was right - I’ll never be good enough for you, for your friends, for your family. You deserve to be with someone who makes your life easier, not harder.”

“Where did all this come from?” He asks incredulously, standing up from his spot on the floor as he painfully watched your slowly retreating figure. “It’s all rubbish is what it is. You’ve never made my life harder.”

“Draco, look around you!” You exasperated, your arms flailing around you. “You had to make a deal with your own friends for them to even be nice to me. Your house can’t stand me and they take it out on the both of us! And what about your parents? You know for a fact they would hate me, don’t even try and deny it.”

Pale hands ran through his hair, his fingers pulling at the platinum strands in frustration.

“I thought you didn’t care about all that,” he said woefully. “I thought you’d know by now none of it matters.”

“Well, I care now,” you answer back gloomily. “And you should too.”

There was a spinning and nauseating feeling in the pit of the Slytherin’s stomach, his heart violently jumping around in his chest as he let you storm away from him. 

He let his back fall against a pillar, a deep and burning exhale falling from his trembling lips while he stared at a live painting across from him. It was of three women, the chalices in their hands supposed to be joined in a toast above them while they smiled gleefully in celebration, 3 of Chalices, it read in the caption below the frame. Instead of being in their usual position, they stared at him with pity in their softly painted eyes as they slowly raised their cups towards him in a way of showing their condolences.

He nodded curtly at them before he kicked himself off the wall and dragged himself towards the Great Hall where they were serving dinner and where he would undoubtedly find his so-called friends. He prepared himself to break the news to them, knowing they would be over the moon about it and as much as he wanted to join them in their delight, he couldn’t push away the large ache that had settled itself in his chest.

“We’re done,” he muttered dreadfully to himself, “it’s over.”

He was testing out different ways he could tell everyone the long-awaited news but they all left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“I think you’ll all be delighted to know, Y/N-” he tried again but he lost his train of thought when he spoke your name. It was like taking an invisible kick to his heart as if Peeves the Poltergeist had somehow crawled into his body and was wreaking his usual havoc on his insides. 

The second he stepped into the Great Hall and saw his group sitting there, eating and laughing amongst everyone else, he felt sick all over again. There was no way he could stomach the triumph they were about to unleash, but he sucked it up and drudged towards them anyway.

“You look ghastly,” Pansy snickers, already having a feeling as to why he looked so rough. He stopped at the bench, hesitating to sit down because he knew he’d want to dash the second everyone started to relentlessly bash you.

“Deal’s off, Zabini,” the blond spoke lowly. “I’m not with Y/L/N anymore so it doesn’t matter.”

“You’re better off without her, Malfoy,” Blaise said delightedly. “Can’t believe you nearly had us associating with a blood traitor. It’s better that she’s gone.”

“Yeah, we ought to thank Pansy for that,” Crabbe laughed loudly through a mouthful of food. Pansy kicked his shin under the table, and he recoiled too fast, the food in his mouth getting shot in the wrong direction as he started choking.

“Pansy?” Draco repeated, his eyes falling towards the shying girl. “What did Pansy do?”

“What?” Crabbe coughed roughly, “did no one else see her talking to the ickle Hufflepuff?”

Pansy kicked him again and he wailed out a “stop kicking me, you donkey!”

Any ounce of sadness Draco had in his body was immediately washed out in rage. He wanted to flip over the table and scream at everyone in his path, but he only turned towards Pansy again and asked her calmly.

“What did you say to her?”

“I only told her the truth!” She said coyly, holding her hands up in defense.

“What” his fist had slammed onto the table making everyone sitting near the contact jump in surprise, “did you say to her!”

“The truth! Or are you too blind to see it too?” She sneered at him. “Do you honestly think the two of you would last? Look at who you are, Draco!”

“Talk to me ever again and I swear I’ll hex you,” he spat, turning hot on his heel as he stormed out of the Great Hall, his friends staring at his retreating figure in shock at the outburst.

Draco found himself rushing through stairs and corridors, his heart racing as he searched for the place he just knew you’d be. Now that he knew the full story, he needed to talk to you. Even if you didn’t change your mind, he wanted to at least try to fix what had been broken. The tall and bronzed doors were ajar, a small light filtering through the dark corridor he was nearly running down. 

A mop of bright silver hair had peaked through the crack in the doors of the Hogwarts kitchen, worried gray eyes following in suit as they searched the room for its target. He found you hunched over a small dessert plate, a half-eaten cake being drenched in your tears that never seemed to stop. There was a house-elf next to you, looking up at you from the floor in concern while they patted your leg. 

“Mister!” a scraggly voice croaked out from below him. He looked down to find a rugged looking house-elf staring up at him with furrowed eyebrows and hands on its hips. “Students are prohibited in the kitchen.”

“There’s a student right there,” he pointed towards you.

“She’s an exception!” the elf exclaimed wildly.

Draco shook his head before walking past the small creature, power walking straight towards you while it ran behind him.

“Wait till Gonpy tells the Headmaster about this!” The elf calls, “Gonby asks your name, sir!””

“Vincent Crabbe,” Draco answers mindlessly as he continued walking towards the far end of the room that very closely resembled the Great Hall and its vastness.

The familiar accent rang through your ears, your glassy eyes shooting up in surprise when you see the reason for your tears hurrying towards you.

“Before you say anything, you need to listen to me,” he starts desperately once he reaches you. “I know it was Pansy who put those thoughts into your head. I know you think you’re not enough for me. And I know you think I was always complimenting you out of pity, but you couldn’t be more wrong about any of that. I say all those things to you because I mean it. You are everything to me. You are more than enough for me just by being you. You make me the happiest I’ve ever been and sometimes I wonder if I’m even good enough for you. But you need to understand how much I love you.”

“Draco,” you breathe, heart leaping in your chest at his rambling speech, “I love you too. But what about everyone else, how are we even supposed to be with each other in peace?”

“To hell with everyone else,” he responds quickly, walking around the edge of the table so that he was now only mere centimeters away from you. “Do you want to be with me?”

“Yes, of course,” you blink at him, “but do you really think your parents would let this happen?”

“We’ll deal with them when the time comes,” he mumbles, his hand finding its way to your puffy cheek where he let it rest. “Besides, my mother likes anything that makes me happy, so I know for a fact at least she will end up loving you just as much as I do.”

You nodded happily, a new hope bubbling in your stomach as you lurched towards him and hugged the stressed boy against you tightly. The both of you let out a breath of relief at the same time from the contact, finally feeling back in balance after the short-lived sorrow. 

He pulled away from you and leaned down into you, his lips capturing yours in a tender and passionate kiss. That was when the elves you had forgotten about had quickly stopped eavesdropping, scurrying themselves away from the table as they went to start cleaning up the kitchen. 

It was minutes before you had finally pulled away, looking dreamily into the happy gray’s that gazed back at you. You admired him for a couple seconds, feeling very content before you reached up towards him again, tangling your hands in his hair and pressing another kiss onto his now swollen lips. He moved needily against you, pushing your body flush the table as he held you tightly against him.

“Ahem,” a small voice uncomfortably called out from below. It was the same elf who had chased Draco down the kitchen when he walked in, a frown on his face as he stared at the two of you. “Gonpy and the house-elves make food here!”

“I’m sorry, Gonpy,” you hurriedly apologize, ripping yourself away from a ragged breathing Draco as you bent down to shake hands with the elf. “Thank you for making me cake and letting me cry here, you’re a Hogwarts hero.”

“Gonpy thanks you, Miss Y/L/N! The truest, kindest Hufflepuff!” 

Draco bit back a smile at the interaction. You stood up and reached your hand behind you for the Slytherin to take and as the two of you walked away, he yelled out a quick, “Thanks Gonpy!”

And once the two of you were near the exit, he wrapped his arms around you from behind and pressed his body against your back, lowering his mouth towards your ear and kissing the skin right below it before whispering, “do you want to go back to my dorm?”

You nodded eagerly, giggling loudly as the two of you stumbled out of the door underneath his hold and into the dimly lit corridor before pulling apart and racing towards the direction of the dungeons with his hand interlocked in yours.

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[dropsofletters]

though you weren’t mine [kmg]

—summary: new in town, with judgement following after every step she takes in life, the least she expects is to find a box filled with cd’s that reads ‘throw away’ written in messy handwriting on its cardboard surface. when looking at the videos, she realizes there is a highlight to her day—as if he was part of a sitcom, and his name is kim mingyu.

the downside? she doesn’t know where to find him. once existing in the same house as hers, no one knows where he went, but his smile remains petrified inside her head.

—title: though you weren’t mine —pairing: kim mingyu x reader —genre: photographer!au ; musical actress!au ; strangers to friends to lovers!au ; videocamera!au —type: fluff ; angst ; suggestive ; romance ; drama ; humor ; slowburn —word count: 25,891 —warnings: mentions of alcohol, death (though briefly), and past relationships. 

Three onions. One head of garlic. Lettuce, clinging to the space in between his teeth and still, her seat companion in the train doesn’t close his mouth for the slightest bit.

As far as she knows—and it has been two hours of conversing with this man, so she’s knowledgeable enough to speak—, he worked in refineries. A little bit over seventy, with a white chemise cladding his body, tucked inside a pair of beige pants. The rounded glasses on the bridge of his nose keep falling, but he keeps playing with them as he speaks about the most miniscule of matters. For one, in 1997, his wife left him for his best friend, and secondly, his youngest is starting to look more like his (please, say ex) best friend with the passage of time.

Now, she is not a DNA expert, neither is she a fortune teller to be able to foresee the future when she got in this train, against her will, only to fulfill her biggest dream.

The city awaits her entrance, and when she gets there, she hopes to take a big bite of the world, mix dance and singing, along with acting, in order to further emphasize her spot in the industry. Break the malicious curse that follows everyone in her blood, only destroying their careers under the weight of their actions.

“And, you know what she did?” Licking the mayonnaise off his thumb after taking a big bite of his sandwich, the older male continues with his story as she lulls her head against the window. For one second, her eyes divert towards the pink clouds accompanied by lilac skies. Trees swing with the harsh wind, three days-worth of spending her time with Jinho over here sounding like the worst of experiences. “My daughter told me she doesn’t want to college after all. Can you imagine that? I paid for her education in four different majors, and she dropped out of all of them…because she wants to be, and hear me out,” As if she hasn’t been doing that for the entirety of the train ride. “A YouTuber.”

“Oh no.” Acting is her forte. Fake crying without a single droplet of water thrown at her face. Elongating words. Dramatics. All of the like—it’s what theater means, but at this point, her tiredness trails after her sentence. “Yeah, all that money…gone to waste…sir, that’s terrible.”

Just as terrible as the way he is eating this sandwich.

Smacking his lips once again, the man shakes his head. “What was your name again?” He asks, for the umpteenth time, and she lets her lips wrap around her name. She may change at this point, something easier, just so this man stops talking about himself and starts to be a proper companion instead. “Yeah, always be sure of what you’re going to do. There are millions of people you can disappoint, and they will tell you they will support you through everything and anything, but it’s a lie.”

“Ah-ha.” She drags, trying her hardest not to scrunch up her face. Instead, she rummages through the pocket of her black coat, looking for the perfect distraction that is her phone. “I think someone is calling me, Mr. Jinho, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Yes, yes!” The old man speaks quickly, taking the last bite of his sandwich only to speak with his mouth full after. “I hope it’s good news!”

After moving his legs from the side, she makes a bee-line towards the bathroom. Brown leather seats on each side of her, with people talking normally, softly, and yet, seemingly happier than her with her train ride. Her friends insisted on this—something of the like of ‘humbleness’ in their whole speech when giving her the train tickets that would take her to her newest pursue in life. Away from her well-known family, and the judgement that weights her down even when she opens the door to the bathroom and closes it behind her.

An unpleasant whiff of air has her sighing deeply. Great. The white tiled walls and sunflowers decorations do nothing to make her feel less like an outcast in this train. Though, she needs to sit down and look through her phone for a while, perhaps pee before getting out of there, and hoping that Jinho’s sandwich did its job in getting him to sleep. Her feet steps forward, putting down the toilet seat in hopes of not even seeing anything inside to compare to the smell in here, before taking a seat on top of the toilet.

Fuck my life, she thinks.

One day you’re at the top of the world, the next, you’re seated on top of a toilet with suspicious contents. Life, some call it.

As if the afternoon couldn’t get any worse, she unlocks her phone, a series of messages from her best friend appearing on the screen. God, she misses her. Leaving her best friend behind while having a medical emergency is one of the choices, she thinks she will never forgive herself for making. What kind of friend does that? She has no idea. Yet, Miyoung practically shouted at her to go follow that dream. The musical’s rehearsals started this month, and she couldn’t miss the opportunity of finally reaching proper stardom. Not word from mouth, but with actions instead.

Earlier, she had asked:

To: Miyoung.

How’s your foot doing?

Though, probably napping, it took Miyoung four hours to answer.

From: Miyoung.

Still connected to my leg, so far, so good.

But…haven’t you seen the news?

News? No. Well, if she’s not counting Jinho’s romantic history—and family timeline, at that—since 1991.

If the child isn’t really his…why would he be telling some stranger in the train?

To: Miyoung.

I was supposed to know any news?

From: Miyoung.

OMG.

Enter my account. Check your ex’s Instagram.

And tell me where we’re hiding the body.

Miyoung, God bless her, is the purest figure skater she knows. The woman follows everyone in social media without caring if they stepped on her heart with all her might, or did something to her friends. Her ex-boyfriend, a very famous comedian, is not the exception. While she had hit headlines for unfollowing him on social media—and vice-versa—, Miyoung does wonders on keeping her updated. Two weeks it has been since their break up, and she has never been readier to move on.

Though, upon opening his social media, she’s welcomed by the usual—parted black hair, curved eyebrows, downturned and bored eyes, with slim lips and a tall frame that bends against its will forward, his stance normally accompanied by baggy, stylish clothes that more often than not rake the smell of alcohol and weed. On this occasion, however, someone else clings by his side and the man does not have the utmost decency to make the picture a little bit less like it belongs to some raunchy college student’s Instagram profile.

His big hand, that linked with hers, and touched her skin in promises of forever, splays on top of the woman’s butt. Gorgeous in more ways than one, with long curled hair and a smile on her lips as he kisses her cheek. The worst part? That she dated someone who captioned this picture, with God-knows-what-kind-of-model, in the worst of ways.

Her stomach churns when she reads: “Here with the main bitch.”

Ugh. Delete all the kisses. Erase all the memories of ever sleeping with him. Create a time-machine so she can slap herself across the face and tell herself ‘he’s not even that funny, wake the hell up’.

To: Miyoung.

Ew.

From: Miyoung.

You don’t care?

To: Miyoung.

Of course, I care.

I kissed that.

I made out with that.

I let that fuck me.

From: Miyoung.

Sid-looking ass.

Fuck him.

All those times Miyoung told her not to date him, and there she was, making a fool of herself.

To: Miyoung.

We don’t judge people by their appearance here.

But he’s trash.

From: Miyoung.

Two weeks, girl.

It took him two effing weeks to get over you.

It shouldn’t hurt, right? Though, her heart contracts a little at the touch of disappointment. Never had she trusted someone as much as she did with her ex, and there she is. Forgotten. Mocked. Poked fun at.

The second bitch.

The ‘no-one-cares’ bitch.

Fuck.

To: Miyoung.

I’ll get over him too, just watch.

From: Miyoung.

Oh, babe, I know.

And you’re on your way to it.

With certainty, even in this goddamned train, with a smelly bathroom and a talkative seat companion, she can do it. Reach her dream. Get a name. Never need a man ever again.

Everything is going to be fine. It always is for her, and this won’t be the exception.

###

Everything is not fine.

Brick walls clad the building in front of her. Tall enough for it to even be considered a skyscraper, creating shadows across her body. The world is much bigger than hers, and yet, sometimes she thinks she is the center of it all. A white screen with black lines showcases the name of one of the newest musicals to be performed tonight at nine, but she can only imagine how her debut in the musical world will look like on her first night. Twinkling lights from the night falling in love with the title of her play—When The Kids Fall Asleep.

When she read the script, she was actually aiming to find some small spot in a TV series, waving in the back or saying three lines. Instead, she came across this piece of magic because of her manager, whom was once her mother’s manager. The story read almost like a book, the demos filling her ears when she asked for a demonstration for her audition, the story of four families that conjoined when trying to reach their dreams without telling the children about the hardships of the real world. For them, everything must be perfect.

Her character, she had fallen in love with. Poor yet leader-like through everything, trying to raise a three-year-old without making her miss a single meal. When she falls asleep, she has to live off earning money by selling meals and, continuously, finding it harder to feed her little family and working as a stripper.

Doing justice to such a role may erase the mistakes lingering in her past.

With a push of the door, the cold metal handle meeting her fingertips, a new world is introduced to her. Rows and rows of burgundy seats, all staring towards the not-so-empty stage. People scatter around, some extending their limbs, others taking sips of water, but the swish of the door closing behind her catches some people’s attention.

The director is someone she knows. The strands of her bleached blonde hair are pushed behind her ears, tightened by a hair-tie to keep it in place. A tall nose, plush lips, and a set of thick glasses meet her enigmatic, yet serious face. A black turtleneck covers most of her body, long limbs and stylized slender body making her look more like a model than a director. Practically glued to her chest is the printed version of the script, and the closer she gets, the more the golden lights scatter across Kaleigh’s body.

“Look at that, if that isn’t our fashionably late rock-star.” The chuckle that rips through Kaleigh’s lips fakes every single emotion that could be mustered in this situation. A sharp breath in makes her curse herself internally. Well, she’s definitely not used to having to take the subway…and definitely not use to people not waking her up. Her manager is there for that, but now he’s too far away from her to actually work as a babysitter, as well.

“Sorry,” She breathes out, hands threading with the straps of her hoodie before smiling softly. “I…I didn’t know how to catch the subway.”

“Are you kidding me?” Kaleigh asks, mocking tone in her voice ever-present, clapping her hands together as if watching the most ridiculous of comedies. “Your family isn’t famous enough for you to act as if you’re out and about in limousines.”

Truthfully, yes. A family of rock-stars, like her mother, that happened to leave the band in search of a better chance, only for her first solo album to fail in the charts. Of models that never went past the runways. Of singers that remained as one-hit-wonders and producers that never got to have names remembered in the world of music. It’s always a peak and then a downfall for her family’s curse.

…But, she does have enough money not to worry for the rest of her life, so there is something good about being criticized throughout her entire life for the family she grew up in. “Well…no, but I’m used to people driving me around. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

Upon sparing one glance towards the stage, Kaleigh must understand that she wants this conversation to be over. “Whatever,” She instructs, deep voice lingering with tiredness. “This is your team. You can get to know them as you practice. This is the first time the entire cast is together.”

Her eyes scan towards the groups of people, all of which she had studied from the printed version of the script she read when Jinho had finally fallen asleep on the train. Thank God, she almost thought that man was going to get off the train with her and follow her around. One of the male leads, she recognizes as Jaehyo, tall and over his thirties, short brown hair accompanying widened eyes, almost deep-looking. A vibrato to die for, as she saw per his audition.

“You’re Jaehyo, right?”

The man looks up from his script, a crooked smile appearing on his features that perhaps, gives him the attractiveness of that one friend’s young dad that she would look at when she was a child, unaware of why her cheeks would heat up at the mere sight of him. “You know me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Going up the set of stairs, she looks around the room once again. Small woman, black short hair, a rounded face with speckles of brown across her cheeks, matching her orange blush. The best dancer of the team, definitely. “And that’s Sue. She plays Joah’s character.” Of course, how could she not? Joah is one of the background characters, but thrilling in its own way. The owner of the strip-club, and the one that takes care of the children in the house of the four families, trying to paint a perfect picture of broken shreds. “And you are—”

Upon pointing at the woman seated by the edge of stage, the light wood carving against her uncovered, toned thighs, she hears Hyun’s sharp tone. The main star, the oldest child—twenty-one, that figures out that her mother is a stripper and goes on a rampant of wanting to take over the same steps. She’s a triple threat, that’s for sure—singing like a goddess, dancing like she belongs to the stage, and acting like she lived through the same experience.

“Are you over with your little Wikipedia search revising speech?” Hyun says, moving her long brown hair away from her shoulders to look at her with sharp almond eyes, her plush lips pursed, though still beautiful with the blaring anger inside her casting over her features. “You’re late. We don’t have time for you to play the fangirl character.”

Hyun stands up at the same moment that she shares her anger with everyone else in the stage. Jaehyo, on one hand, is the one to speak up first. “Hey, we weren’t even waiting for that long—”

“So, just because she has money, we have to excuse her diva behavior?” Running her hands over her gray shorts, Hyun gets in position, staring at Kaleigh.

“Look who’s talking.” She spits out, looking up and down at the woman that she had once thought was the best addition to the team, now seems to be up and against her, ready to blare Achilles’ cholera all the way towards her. “The only one making a fuss over me being twenty minutes late here is you—”

“Because my time is valuable, unlike what you think.” Hyun responds just as she gets close, sparing one glance towards Kaleigh. “Right? I’m the main lead. If I can get here early, so can you.”

“Shit, sorry.” She whispers, a frown appearing on her features. “I’ll make sure to get here two hours earlier because your character is so much more important than mine.”

“Well,” Kaleigh interrupts at that moment, hooking her fingers around one of her dangling diamond earrings. “It’s not wrong. Hyun is our star. If she gets here on time, so can you.”

Lowering her head just at the same time that a smile appears on Hyun’s face, she sighs. “It won’t happen again, I promise. I’m sorry.”

Her dream scatters right in front of her, both from her wrongdoings and for the way that Kaleigh looks at her up and down, before nodding. “Doesn’t matter. We can work on various things as you’re here. You have a lot to improve.” Kaleigh answers, a smile reaching her cheekbones. “For now, just stand in the back and watch the professionals do so.” Her hand extends towards Hyun, exclaiming her utmost ambition and hope for her presence in this play.

“For every scene?”

“Yes. You can dance in the back.” Kaleigh finalizes with a tilt of her head. “Ah…does that bother you?”

“Well, if I’m in the back for every scene, I won’t be able to deliver my lines properly—”

“Honey, here’s how this works—” Kaleigh starts, extending one leg in front of her before playing with the edge of her script. Never does she break eye-contact, even when she is stepping on her heart. “You are new, but you aren’t new to the public. You’ve dated a few good names, appeared on magazines since you were a child…and you’re kind of good, but we’re aiming for publicity here. If you’re here with us, we make this play more profitable and, hence, we can continue displaying it for however long they let us. And, with the passage of time, you can step forward and be looked at more…but you’re not as good as the rest, as easy as that.”

Then, why did she get accepted? Once again, the light of her family’s curse casts down on her, creates shadows on the kind of person she can be. Just when her lips are about to part, trying to shelter her pride with the utmost knowledge of how this industry works, Kaleigh claps her hands together.

“In your spots. First scene. The kids are waiting behind the stage, I need you to deliver those lines as if you’re in the verge of hunger. And you better be, we’ll be here the entire day.”

It’s not like how she imagined it to be. So far in the stage that she can’t even see the seats, the light casting down on Hyun even when she is not in the scene. Her voice dulls, every line coming out of her lips with less enthusiasm as the practice passes by. Just a publicity stunt, that’s why she was accepted. Tears weld up in her vision, and they are not exactly her character’s…but now she is here, and she has to make do with her dream.

###

There’s one point of a person’s lives where they can no longer see their friends as much as they hope to. Life gets busy, some create families, others hunt for their biggest professional goals, and then, she’s left in solitude, carrying the boxes that were left outside of her new house by the moving truck. Spacious, perfect for two to three people, and yet only there for her to live in. Somewhere in a suburbs-like spot, with plenty of families staring at her as a groan leaves her lips upon the lumbar ache on her back. Whatever. If normal people can do it, so can she.

The trees on her front yard move with the wind, same as her hair, trying her best to go up the set of white stairs that lead to her gray doorstep, the ‘welcome’ rug in front making her feel less like this is her home. Her friends and family are not here, and the friends that she has here are too busy with their own lives to help her unpack as much as possible. Along with that, she has to go over her lines and avoid delivery in order to use the kitchen as much as possible.

When she drops the last box on the living room, the gray tiles and the white doors giving an elegant vibe in contrast to the cardboard, her hands rest on her waist. The only thing she has managed to do after getting home from practice three days ago was construct some shelves for her TV, and put a bed in the bedroom to sleep in, but other than that, the house is empty. The couch welcomes her weight when she throws herself over it.

Okay. It could be worse. She has a ceiling over her head.

…And a mattress, a kitchen, a TV and a shelf.

But she has worn the same clothes at home for the past four days.

Lifting the white sweater up to her nose, she sniffles deeply. Clean, apparently, but that’s something she has to deal with as well—laundry as soon as possible, because of her amount of outfit changes during practice. Her eyes close tightly, as if she would be able to ease the headache appearing inside her head in the matter of seconds, but when she opens them again, she’s welcomed by the same white shelf she constructed, and the little wood shelf by its side that came with the house.

Though, it’s more like a cabinet, there’s a door to it, and it’s not locked, swinging back and forth with a squeak. Maybe, she should get rid of that before actually starting. Standing up again, each muscle hurting from endless hours of practicing and now for carrying around seven boxes inside her house, her slippers clank against the flooring until she kneels in front of the cabinet, opening the door and sighing out of glee of not having to hear the movement of the wind against it.

A box is inside, the words ‘throw away’ written in capitals and blue marker ink. Better follow what the owners wanted, it could be some haunted doll that she has to get out before it eats her alive at night. Though, just as she lifts the box in between her hands, ready to throw it away or recycle it, the bottom portion opens, letting a bunch of CD’s fall on her feet.

Ouch, but also, huh?

Is this the old owner’s porn stack?

She should just throw them away, but when her fingers wrap around the CD’s, she reads the titles written in the same blue ink. Anniversary. Date. Bed. New York.

Ooh, bed sounds kinky…

Is it an amateur sex tape?

Better check it before she throws it away and people look through it, right?

Thankfully, numbers are scattered across the CD’s, small enough for her to almost ignore them, but upon grabbing her laptop from the coffee table, she slides the CD in. All in order, she starts with number one.

Maybe, a sex tape would be better…it wouldn’t have captured her heart quite like this.

###

01: NEW YORK.

“Ah, Kim Mingyu, don’t leave me behind like that!”

Groups of people scatter in front of the recorder. Tall buildings, in colors from grays, blacks, whites to browns, read out the typicality of New York, as per the title. Bustling, with barely any space from one person to the other, like lovers marching on their way to success. The person with the camera lets it shake a few times with her steps, the tone sweet and melodious as she calls out the same name again. Kim Mingyu. Kim Mingyu. Babe.

Definitely her boyfriend.

Upon reaching a wide back with a navy-blue thick coat thrown over it, the person with the camera expands her free hand on his back, sharp breaths leaving her lips, trying to regain her composure. She moves over to the side, finally showing the face of the culprit of her distress. A car passes by so fast that it swooshes his hair, the brown strands moving away to showcase his gorgeous golden skin. Not only is that gorgeous about him, but the fold of his romantic eyes, one squinted as he holds a camera up his face, taking a few pictures of the Times Square, accompanied by his defined nostrils, straight nose and dried, thin lips that he licks in the matter of seconds before looking over towards his girlfriend.

God has favorites.

“Log number one of the lives of Mingyu and Yoona. We are out here in New York to celebrate our second anniversary, isn’t that right, Mingyu?” Her voice is dulcet enough to compete against popsicles and candy. Mingyu seems to sense that, a twinkle in his eyes when looking down at the person recording him.

But he’s a camera person, she can tell that much. When he turns towards the camera, he extends his arms as wide as possible. “We’re here to celebrate two years of me standing Yoona and not dying in the process.”

Yoona slaps him in the arm for that comment, laughter ripping from his lips. “No, say why we’re really here.”

Mingyu looks around for a second, grabbing her hand before dragging her along through the busy streets. “I’ve always wanted to come to New York, so I thought that coming with you would be the best way to experience it.”

“And why are we recording us?”

“…Because I plan to audition for Hollywood so we can be like Brad and Angelina.”

“…They divorced, Mingyu.”

“They didn’t.” Mingyu replies, though he is clearly in the wrong. “Why would they—?”

“Because people get divorced, Mingyu.” Yoona reasons, far more knowledgeable than her boyfriend. “But be honest, why are we recording ourselves?”

At last, he looks away, the timer of the video growing smaller and smaller as he stares ahead. Slowly, a smile takes over his features, filling his cheeks when he says: “This is log one of the videos we’re going to show our children once we become a family in the far future.”

“Or not so far.”

Staring into the camera, Mingyu shrugs. “You never know.”

And that’s how it ends. With that precious smile of his giving hope to those who don’t believe in love, for it’s clear that he’s in love with whoever is recording him.

###

02: BED.

The door of what is now her bedroom opens up in the video, the same recorder not knowing how to keep the camera upright as she moves toward the spacious bed. Her knees hit the bed, stealing a huff away from the man thrown on the bed as his hands come forward just as his body does, grabbing the culprit that interrupted his sleep by jumping on him.

“Morning, morning, birthday boy!” His face is much more swollen than in the last video, his dark hair tousled everywhere as his eyes squint, try to look at the camera before closing entirely, throwing himself back in the mattress with a sigh.

“I’ll go back to sleep.”

But, Yoona keeps pushing, resting her weight on top of Mingyu, showcasing the pictures of them splayed on their respective bedside tables, before patting her hand against his cheek. “Wake up, it’s April 6th.”

“I know that day it is…” His voice drags, pressing his cheek to the white, comfortable pillow that seems to include a dampened spot created by him.

“Okay, kids. You may watch this ten years from now or something, let’s hope your dad isn’t as grumpy in the mornings as he is right now.” Yoona instructs, jumping a bit on his abdomen only to watch him not relenting at all. “Your dad was born on April 6th, 1997—” Oh, same year that Jinho was left by his wife. What a coincidence. “Shall we sing happy birthday for him?”

The video ends with a smile appearing on Mingyu’s face the more the song goes on in that lulling voice, reaching upwards to steal a kiss from her only for the camera to cut short.

The guy’s charming, she’ll give him that.

###

07: DRUNK.

Mingyu’s flushed face seems a bit older, his hair pushed away from his face as he rests his forehead against the refrigerator. It’s not the same one in her kitchen right now, but the division is the same, so it’s technically still in this house. Only when Yoona comes close to him, stumbling a bit on her steps, does he look up, waving his hand at the camera, the sleeve of his white and red sweater coming down his hand.

“Min…gyu…” Yoona has trouble forming coherent sentences, though Mingyu’s smile is ever-present. Happiness bleeds through him when being with her. “Mingyu, dance for the camera. Make that money worth, baby.”

The man chuckles, lifting his hands in the air and swinging his hips from side to side comically, earning a few whistles, howls and cheers from some people, perhaps equally as drunken as him, only to end up getting close to the camera and saying, with his handsome features pressed up close to the device:

“I wanna throw up.”

This video definitely has a smile plastering on her face. Funny.

###

10: ANNIVERSARY.

“Kim Mingyu, welcome to our log. We haven’t talked here for a while.”

Mingyu looks away from the scenery outside of the car, perhaps a taxi given by the position, moving the hood of his black sweater away from his head and fixing the sunglasses on his face to rest just at the tip of his nose to look at the camera. “You’re recording again?” Mingyu asks, though he is already waving at the camera and by the lack of response, she must have nodded at him.

“It’s October 13th, that means we have been together for three years.” Yoona starts, just at the same time that Mingyu grabs her hand, brings it up to his lips and presses a petal of a kiss to her knuckles. God, she should really stop watching this if she doesn’t want to feel lonelier. Why does she always pick the bad ones? Yoona has good tastes! “What are your thoughts on love, Mr. Kim?”

Mingyu leans his head back, though he looks at her from the corner of his eyes. “Stop calling me Mr. Kim.”

“Okay, go on Kim Mingyu.”

“It’s alright to just call me Mingyu.”

“I’m the one with the camera, shut it.”

Though, the man in question tries to find the right words, a goofy smile appearing on his features before extending his hands, as if further help himself explain. “Love is comfort? It’s what you expect, really. Ah…everyone thinks, at least once in their lives, that they are going to find someone and then, you just do.”

“Mingyu,” Yoona threatens, somewhat of a hiss to her tone. “What a bad answer.”

“It’s an answer!” He replies, widening his eyes and lifting his tone comically.

“And how did you know it was me?”

Mingyu pauses for a second, his lips joining together to give a tight-lipped smile before shrugging. “I just knew.”

###

13: RING.

“It’s recording.” A joyful voice, though belonging to a man, speaks from behind the camera before Mingyu lowers his weight to stand in front of the camera, taking off his black hoodie to wave.

“Hi,” Mingyu instructs, though the busy exterior must be getting him nervous, looking around before smiling sweetly. For one second, he looks like the modern version of a Prince. “I’m here today to buy Yoona an engagement ring. Seungkwan is recording me…and…yeah, I’ll just show you the process of me finding the perfect ring.”

Though, the man recording is more given to being on camera, turning it around and moving to Mingyu’s side so they are both in camera. His bright red hair and innocent features match his overexcited nature. “Welcome everyone. I’m here because my ring size is the same as Yoona’s. Mingyu and Yoona—”

Mingyu chuckles, hiding his hands behind his back before shaking his head. “This is not a broadcast, dude.”

“What do you know, Mingyu?”

The rest of the video displays memories of Seungkwan speaking into the camera and recording Mingyu as he picks the perfect ring. Rose gold with five diamonds, one that says costs him more than he even has and made him ask for money from all his group of friends.

Love has a meaning then.

###

14: I SAID YES.

This video is much shorter, though she can already recognize Seungkwan’s lively voice as he records the lovely couple. Yoona, with her bangs falling across her forehead, thin lips and big eyes stares up at Mingyu when she hugs him, his knees dusted because of his kneeling position in front of her. The ring dazzles against the light of the salon they all find themselves in—perhaps, some event, with pink balloons and golden decorations.

Mingyu, as happy as ever, wraps his arms around her waist, lowering his lips until they connect with hers. Not missing a bit, a smile appears over his features, as per usual with Yoona, but the woman only displays her ring to the camera.

“It’s finally happening!”

###

31: DELETE.

Yoona spends two good minutes talking about the wedding, the decorations, the elegance of her designer dress that she paid too much for. Definitely not in their ordinary room, the city twinkles darkly on the opened, spacious windows of the hotel they are staying in, the beige desk and the champagne curtains matching. Her hair is shorter, her voice different, fixing her eyelashes and her bangs as much as possible whenever she speaks.

Mingyu lowers his weight beside her, resting his cheek on her shoulder just as she is speaking, but she cuts herself off to look over her shoulder. “Mingyu…” Her voice lowers, taking his face in between her slim hands to look at his features. Ready for bed, he seems to be, dark bags surrounding his eyes and the figure of a shadow around his lips making Yoona shake her head. “You haven’t shaved and the wedding is tomorrow. What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

For someone’s whose language had been lively and lovely throughout the recordings, this surprises her. What happened to Yoona? Mingyu stares up at her, pushing his hair away from his face. “I’ll shave tomorrow,” His smile falls then, frowning up at her. “If I shave now, it’s not going to be perfect tomorrow.”

“You look disgusting with that rat on your face.”

“It isn’t even noticeable, come on.”

“Of course, it is!” Yoona complains, huffing when she leans back on her seat, bringing her knees up her chest as she has a stare-off with Mingyu. Before he could say anything, she interrupts him. “I don’t even know how I’m going to kiss you tomorrow with that thing—”

Mingyu stands up then, pointing at the camera as he snaps, getting away from the main screen. “It’s not like you do anything remotely nice anymore unless you’re recording us.”

Yoona looks over her shoulder, talking to Mingyu. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“The only moment you’re truly happy with me is when you’re talking to these nonexistent children of ours—”

“You said you wanted children, Mingyu.”

“…I do, but it’s—it’s not—to have children, you have to do more than just record the good parts of your relationship to show them just how perfect their parents were.”

Yoona scoffs, rolling her eyes while looking at the camera. “Well, I thought I had a perfect boyfriend, you see, but the more comfortable you get, the stupider you become.”

Mingyu stops on his tracks, moving over to the camera before placing one hand over it. Though, by the ministrations and the movement, Yoona seems to flick it off. “Turn that shit off.” He threatens, voice levelled, only to have her shaking her head. “Yoona, I said to turn that shit off. I’ve recorded every time you wanted, but it’s enough. We already—”

“Did I ask for your opinion, Mingyu?”

“I—”

“I didn’t ask, so keep it to yourself, okay?” The man actually listens, biting down on his bottom lip before rushing his hands through his hair a few times, grasping at his scalp one last time before moving over to the mattress. Yoona checks if he is around one more time before leaning her weight forward, resting her elbow on her desk. “Like I said, my dress is by Belle Epoque—”

Though, she can’t bring herself to watch any more of the last log, meant to be deleted.

###

In the middle of the night, lacking sleep yet raging insomnia like it is her job to blare thoughts inside her head as per musical notes, she figured out something. Nonsense is timeless, and staying in the far back of the stage, along with her companions, only to make Hyun shine the harshest is not what she imagined when moving out here. It’s not what she desired, and it’s not going to happen.

The instrumental of Jaehyo’s first solo runs through the empty stage, three hours earlier than Hyun could ever get to the practice room. The man gives a few steps forward, extending his arms on each side of his body as if to ask for instructions.

When calling her name, he adds: “I don’t know why we’re here.”

Though she pauses the instrumental, there is certainty in her voice, pushing her messy hair back, trying to unglue her eyelids that remain touched to the other because of her lack of sleep. One sip of caffeine should be enough for now. “It’s not fair that we’re getting pushed to the back when we have solos. Hyun shouldn’t be the main dancer of your solo.” She instructs, staring at Jaehyo’s surprised expression. “So, we’re preparing something else to show to Kaleigh.”

Jaehyo chuckles at her words, rubbing his hands against his face. “I don’t think she’s going to accept it.” He tells, letting go of his cheeks to add. “Hyun is, also, too much of a strict main for me to go against her just like that—”

“You’re thirty-five Jaehyo, grow up.” Her words come out harshly, days of standing Hyun’s verbal stabs catching up on her. Take for example Kim Mingyu, the God made Prince in the videos she watched. Gorgeous, elegant, somehow sweet, and yet, following through with a marriage that probably made him unhappy in the long run. She doesn’t have the time to lose the opportunity of shining. “…You’re excellent with choreography, and I can help with some of the vocals—”

“I think she’s right.” Sue says after slipping out from the back of the stage, the red curtains dragging over her body, much more energized than anyone in this room. “Hyun is the most talented of our team, but we are not Hyun and her little group of backup dancers. We are also characters.”

Nodding, she agrees. “Exactly.”

Jaehyo looks back towards Sue, then up again at one of the youngest of the team before rolling his finger in the air. “Okay, start the instrumental again. I think I can make up some new moves.”

Jaehyo’s body moves with precision, professionalism at its finest as he makes every step count into the road of heartbreak that his character finds himself to be in, driven by addiction, stopped by his reality. One arm forward, fingers curling with each word he says, notes hit at the same time that his lines are delivered. The talent in the room palpitates with what Kaleigh can’t see, a trio of people who would love to work with Hyun but end up down-casted by the light of her endless talents.

Hours pass by, and she is reminded why she started liking musicals on the first place. Seated on her grandmother’s lap, on the first row of Broadway musicals, staring at the dancers and the actors, the way a story could come to life with the three best versions of art. A nod of her head, a hum of her voice, a vibrato or two, a falsetto when she’s feeling brave…it all comes together with a version of When The Kids Go To Sleep that the world deserves to see.

Though, the middle of the morning hits with the entrance of another person. The doors open, closing harshly behind the culprit, interrupting the line that she is breathing into the air continued by elongated, quickened steps. When she stares ahead, past the rows of empty seats, she sees Hyun’s small face, her typical sport-like outfit cladding her immaculate body.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, newbie?” Hyun asks, not even conscious of her steps as she goes up the set of stairs and stands in front of her. The music comes to a halt thanks to Jaehyo, whom rushes down the stage with a jump and pauses the Bluetooth speakers, but she isn’t back down. Not with this bitch.

“Practicing, babe. What do you think I’m doing?”

“Ruining the musical, for example.” Her reply has her balling her fists. Not that she has ever been part of a physical fight—oh, but she has been close, and she thinks that if she can land a fake punch for a scene, a real one shouldn’t be that difficult. “…This part of the stage…” Hyun steps forward, tapping her shoes against the spot she was in, jutting her chest outwards to bring her back. “This is mine, and you have to earn this spot—”

“Stop it with the dramatics, God. We’re not in High School Musical, stop acting like a child.” She groans out, throwing her head back at Hyun’s antics.

“You say that because you’re just used to things going your way. So, the pretty little princess can’t get used to being shadowed for once.”

Sue takes this moment to step forward, placing her hands on both of their chests. “Hey, let’s stop this—”

“Fucking whatever celebrity passes by you didn’t work for you, and that’s your fault. Now, this is my dream, and you don’t get to ruin it because you feel like the attention is not on you for once.” Hyun continues speaking, lifting her voice with each moment that passes. Pushing Sue to the side, she gets closer to her, breaths mingling with the nonsense she is speaking into the air. What does she know about her past what the media says? Judgmental bitch.

“You don’t know me. Stop talking as if you do, bitch.”

“Oh, baby, a bitch?” Hyun asks, placing one hand on top of her chest before chuckling. “Ouch. What level of bitch? The usual, level one bitch or level ten, horny bitch like yourself?”

“Regret that.” She pushes, wrapping her fingers around Hyun’s shirt to bring her closer, only to watch the woman chuckle.

“What? You’re going to kiss me like you do with every little celebrity friend of yours?”

Fire bursts within her vision, not counting her breaths when her free hand comes forward and slaps the woman across from her straight on the cheek. Two steps back make her realize exactly what she did, Hyun’s smile faltering with the gasp that leaves her lips. Her chest heaves up and down, hand tingling and burning under the weight of her ministrations…but fuck, it felt good to shut her up for once.

The media has portrayed every mistake, blown it out of proportion, and made a mess out of her life. She was never judged as a normal person, but as the daughter of celebrities instead. It’s not fair for whatever the media portrayed to continue to follow her even when she’s trying to earn a name for yourself.

Sue exclaims at that moment. “Stop it, you two!” Resting one hand on Hyun’s shoulder, she helps her up only to have Hyun walking forward, ready to retreat the precious gift of pain. “Hey, no! Stop it!” Sue tugs Hyun by her small waist, trying to keep her in place.

“Who’s the bitch now?”

“I’m going to fucking kill you—”

“Stop it!” Jaehyo screams from his spot, coming towards the stage again. For someone who avoids arguments, he seems to be angered. “Let’s just…let’s just wait for Kaleigh to get here, practice, and forget this ever happened, okay? We’re a team, we’re not here to harass each other.”

Though, not a single word comes out of her lips, but a glare from Sue tells her that she needs to speak up. “Okay, I won’t do it again.”

Yet, when she turns around, tears weld up in her vision. A broken dream, her pride shattered, and a past that will follow her whether it is true or not…that’s what her life will always consist of, no matter where she runs up to.

###

First month in the new city, and the only thing that keeps her sane is the box filled with CD’s that she keeps inside her shelf, watching Mingyu’s face and smile whenever she needs to remind herself that there are good people in this world.

Sure, flowers don’t bloom in everyone, and what is shown on the recordings could be a bettered version of Mingyu. She knows what it is like to be portrayed as someone else in front of the cameras, after all. Yet, the rosiness of his tanned cheeks and the smile on his features speaks about something inexplicably thrilling. It makes her care about what happened after. Why would they leave all those CD’s behind, and had their marriage work?

Out of her thirteen neighbors, twelve don’t know a thing about him.

It’s a cycle, with the harsh sun confusing the endless wind falling on her back. One door opens, they welcome her into the neighborhood, ask her how she’s doing and they answer her questions.

Do you know who Kim Mingyu is? Yes, of course, he lived where you live right now.

Do you know what he does? No idea.

Do you know what happened to him, per chance? He left one day without saying a thing.

At this point, she may believe that Kim Mingyu was a ghost, and that was the reason why no one ever saw him leaving, or knew why he left. Confusion takes over her—for once, she doesn’t know why she is looking for the man that has brought her comfort for the past month, because nothing would come out of it. It’s not like she’s a fan of him, and will eventually end up meeting him and say: ‘Hey, watching your videos before your relationship fell apart made me feel better because you have such a welcoming, goofy personality’. Yet, there she is, standing in front of the final house of the block, ringing the doorbell on the pristine white walls.

A cat purrs once the doors open, escaping the confines of the home to twirl around her legs. The old woman in front of her, however, does not seem to mind her pet being so sweet, tugging at the edge of her long flowery dress, hunched over as she barely walks, a gray braid falling on her shoulder. A dulcet face, though much older than ninety, accompanies the lonesome woman who smiles at her presence.

“Oh, you’re the pretty girl that just moved in here, right?”

Well, that’s something new. She hasn’t heard much compliments ever since she got here—burn after hit, hit after burn, all coming from her endless hours of preparing for the first night of her musical, and the ones to come. “Depends on who you ask.” She jokes around, extending her hand to greet the woman in front of her. She outs her name into the comfortable atmosphere around them. “Yes, I’m the new neighbor. Nice to meet you…you have such a pretty home.”

“The smallest of the block, but the sturdiest.” The old woman gets out, able to capture anyone with her words. She leans her weight against the doorframe, a tired sigh leaving her lips. “Hye-Eun, that’s my name…and that’s my cat Rose.”

Kneeling down to scratch Rose right on her neck, she hums. “She’s so pretty.” The orange-furred cat seems to understand her, pressing her cheek against her knee before she looks away from her. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Hye-Eun, but I have some questions about the previous owners of my house that no one has been able to answer me—”

“You’re not interrupting a thing. I was just watching TV.” Hye-Eun admits.

“I’m glad.” It’s all she seems to be doing these days, too. Not going out. Definitely not spending her time inspecting the city. Instead, she’s either practicing or tiredly lounging around the house. “…Do you happen to know what happened to Kim Mingyu, the owner of the house?”

Hye-Eun stops for a moment, bringing her hands up her nose to rub at it before smiling. “He was a cute one, wasn’t he?”

Heat takes over her features, for she does not shy away from any man…but the stranger has something in him that puts her heart inside a carrousel and gives it a million twirls. “Indeed.”

“He left the day after his wedding. I’d say…about a year ago.” Hye-Eun, for seemingly being so old, captures the date well. One squint of her eye keeps her going, trying to recall the details. “He didn’t leave with Yoona, though. I remember because he brought me some food before he left. Such a caring boy…”

Her judgement may not be the slightest bit wrong about him. A smile appears on her features when she takes Rose in between her hands, looking at the cat’s face for a second before continuing to rub over her fur. Very calm for a cat, actually. “What was he like?”

“Enchanting, really. He used to greet everyone, play around with the kids when he could…he is a photographer, so he took lots of pictures in our neighborhood.” Mingyu sounds much like the man in the recordings so far. Had Yoona been the only one pretending, or was that just a little fight in their relationship? “A little bit dumb, but the sweetest of men are like that. Though, forgetful, too, he never came around after leaving.”

She doesn’t know him and yet, at times, when she doesn’t see his videos for days, she starts to miss his smile. People around the neighborhood, or the ones that truly intertwined with him, must long for his presence. “Seems like his wife was a lucky one.”

“She was.” Though, Hye-Eun says something else about the woman… “Pretty, but too controlling. Mingyu was just too stupid to notice.”

Those words have the smile on her face faltering. “…Really?”

The relationship that she had judged as normal on the first place, now seems to fall on the weight of Yoona’s wrongdoings. “Yes.” Hye-Eun finalizes, nodding her head before smacking her lips together. “But I know nothing else. Sorry, honey.”

“No worries, Mrs. Hye-Eun.” She finalizes, giving Rose back to her owner before resting her hands inside the pocket of her jeans. A photographer, brand-new feelings blossoming with his marriage, Mingyu sounds like one hell of a picturesque man. “Thank you for your help. I’ll get going now.” With a bow, she turns around, ready to take off to her house, when Hye-Eun speaks from her spot.

“He’s a pretty one, isn’t he?”

She stops on her tracks, looking over her shoulders. “Pardon me?”

Hye-Eun rests a kiss on top of Rose’s old cheeks before she chuckles. “A woman doesn’t go around asking about a man through a neighborhood just because.” Though, she has some reason there, if Mingyu is a married man, why should she care? “…Watch out for that heart, honey.”

“Oh no, Mrs. Hye-Eun, I’m afraid you have misunderstood—”

“I haven’t.” The sweet woman says, a smile appearing on her rounded features. “…Just, be careful, okay? Mingyu is the kind of man anyone easily falls for.”

Crossing her fingers across her heart, she replies: “I promise those are not my intentions, ma’am.”

With a chuckle, Hye-Eun takes a hold of her door, ready to close it when she finalizes this conversation. “It’s not what you intend to do, but what you’re actually doing.” The door closes, and she watches Hye-Eun retreat with her cat.

Why is she looking for Mingyu on the first place? Perhaps, a part of her wants to meet him—see that smile from up close and ask what happened to his relationship.

But that’s not her issue, not her position to be in, and that’s the reality of life.

###

“How many times do I have to tell you not to add new steps to the choreography?”

The baby wipe rubbing against her skin stops her motions along with her hand, looking at Kaleigh’s reflection on the mirror, right next to hers. The white lights cast down on the entirety of the face, one half sporting the bruises and dirt on her character’s face, the other completely void of makeup. Kaleigh, however, looks as put-together as always, moving her glasses, holding her script to her chest and pursing her reddened lips when she raises her eyebrows.

“I thought it’d look better, sorry.” Though, Jaehyo and Sue do it at times as well, choreographies and lines that they have worked on behind Kaleigh. They never get repercussions, aiming to be the very best brand of musical actors, but in her case…it’s always a bad move. With the passage of time, her confidence in her talents has deflated. “It won’t happen again.”

“You say that all the time.” Kaleigh answers, looking down at her script with a sigh before flicking a few pages. “And you, still, can’t go to the front. Hyun has worked on her dancing and her physique more than you have, so…stay back.” Though words hurt her more and more each time, digging against her heart like a sword twisting and twisting, opening the wound with more force than the last time. Yet, she only nods, knowing better than going back home and proving everyone right about the curse that follows her family.

“I will.”

“…I don’t want to tell you this, but another mistake, and I’ll kick you out.” Kaleigh, always strict, finalizes with those words, not knowing how to be softer. Little did she know that she left her figure skater with a broken foot at home, only pushed into the train because everyone insisted on her following her dream. Miyoung is much better now, but she can’t follow after her dream anymore. She keeps going, but at what cost? Showing the people that love her that, for once, she is not just some celebrity’s family member?

More often than not, she wants to package her bags and go back home. Wrap her arms around Miyoung and cry for both of their dreams. Buried deep, aching, bleeding. Instead, she watches Kaleigh retreat towards Hyun, sharing a smile with the woman and words of endless praise that should be for her.

Not to be misunderstood. Hyun is as talented as a person can get, but her outward hate towards her and the rivalry she started out of nowhere affects her. What was once admiration towards Hyun now translates into anger, pulsing envy that has her looking to the side as Hyun downs her fifth energy drink of the night. Her pupils dilate, eyelids blinking rapidly, chest heaving for a second as her fingers twirl one against the other. She stares at herself in the mirror, far away from taking off her makeup, before releasing her lines once again under her breath.

She’ll give Hyun that she’s a hard worker, but more than five energy drinks in just one afternoon practice?

The recital is getting closer, pamphlets thrown around, social media presence starting—and the interviews will inherently come soon. Yet, Hyun seems to be under a lot of pressure, the strain of one of the notes she whispers into the thin air coming from endless hours of rehearsing. Main lead but still very much human.

She shouldn’t give a shit. Hyun can start peeing orange like the color of the energy drinks she is having, and she shouldn’t mind, but what does she do instead when leaning against her seat and looking to Hyun’s lonesome speech?

“I don’t think you should be drinking that many energy drinks.”

Hyun looks different when she looks over to her. Her eyes seem to be unable to close, bottom lip stuck in between her teeth, dragged across the surface before tilting her head to the side. “How about your start minding your own business?”

She shrugs. This is a woman, after all, and they may be miles apart personality-wise, but she can’t bring herself to look at Hyun ruin his own health just to function a few more hours on stage. “Well, it’s minding my business. I don’t want to be the one to take you to the ER when one of your kidneys explodes.”

Hyun scoffs, moving her hair away from her face before looking back at her reflection in the mirror. “I’d rather die than share a car with you.”

Why does she even try with this one? It’s clear that she won’t ever let herself be pampered, even when she worries about her health. “You know what? Invite me when that happens. The happiest day of my life, for sure.” She replies, rubbing on her face harshly, not caring if she takes off the entirety of her makeup before tossing her bag over her shoulder and getting off the chair.

When she gets out of her second home, the city welcomes her. Bustling lights, passing cars, the speech that never stops…and yet, she can’t bring herself to like it. She’s one hair away from losing it all—the opportunity of being in this musical, that is, bringing her character to life, but if she doesn’t lose that…her pride as a person will be stepped on.

God, she really needs to stop caring about the musical for once. Her character is different from who she is, and too much practice is about to make her turn out crazy.

Her phone comes up to her ear as she starts walking to the subway, calling one of her friends that live in the same city as her, hoping for an answer when she says:

“Drinks tonight, babe?”

“For sure!”

###

For once, she feels like herself. Stepping out of a taxi, with the night biting at her naked legs, and fashion cladding most of her body. A tight red skirt rests under her bright pink coat, the low neckline of her white shirt showing a sensual side of her that only the cameras had seen, back when she went out partying in her hometown. Lowering her sunglasses from her head to her eyes, she takes a bite of the pizza in between her fingers when her friend closes the taxi’s door behind them.

“This is the best lounge in the entirety of the city, trust me.” Dasom’s pink hair swishes with the wind in inexplicable ways, but the smile on her mischievous features only highlights when she wraps her arm around hers. Dasom had been having dinner with her just a few minutes ago, over some bottles of beer, when she decided a lounge would be much better for them. Music. Dance. Perhaps some people to talk for the night. “Besides, there’s a lot of high-end people here.”

She met Dasom while in high school, where the woman peaked thanks to a viral video on the internet. To this day, she is remembered for it, but her fame hasn’t gone much further. Education aside, she seems to just enjoy the moment. “Wait, can’t I finish my pizza?”

Taking the slice of pizza from her hands, the cheese and sauce concoction ends up on the sidewalk, thrown there by Dasom. “Stop eating. We’re going to have fun and help you forget about your image for once.”

Upon entering the lounge, clouds of red and blue merge together, music boosting the bass through the walls, people cheering with their glasses up in the sky, bodies clinging to one another in a dance. Somehow, it feels like a party, and Dasom never misses one of those. This night doesn’t seem to be the exception, her heels clicking against the black flooring with white speckles as Dasom moves her through the masses of people.

“You didn’t tell me it was going to be a party.”

“Never trust a Gemini.” Dasom instructs about herself before smiling softly. “We’re going to be fine,” She instructs, wrapping one arm around her shoulder before extending her hands to one of the tables. “My friends are over there. We’re going to grab some drinks. And we’re going to have a good time, isn’t that right?”

“…Well, I guess.” Finally, the hazed nature of her happiness comes through, following after the steps of someone more knowledgeable about nights like this. She needs to let go, feel as though she doesn’t care for one night, and if a few shots and shared laughter aims to do that, so be it.

Motions blur one with the other, alcohol passing by her throat, numbing it with each taste. She winces most of the time, but the smile after the hiss is worth it. Pictures come from the night, though she doesn’t know who she is posing with, loving the pineapple in cocktails and the way her body swings as though the denim never restricted her legs. The night casts its light on her, the starring role of a movie that she doesn’t quite remember—but damn, it’s a good time. For once, she doesn’t have to think.

The bad thing about sudden, palpitating happiness is that it dissipates in the matter of seconds. Shots of alcohol are a distraction, not a source of dopamine.

“Dasom!” She shouts her friend’s name, stomach hunching as she steps away from the groups of people. There are a bunch of people with rosy hair in here, or maybe, she is too drunk to tell who her friend is. Her hands wrap around a handle, apologizing when coming in contact with the steady and strong body of the body guard before stepping on the sidewalk, hurling forward until she empties the contents of her stomach.

Yeah…alcohol is not her thing.

One of her earrings falls down, a wince following the action before she spits on the floor. She doesn’t feel any better, and she imagines she’s going to be here for another second. Her hands rest on her thighs, letting the world see her and the cars passing by on her worst of states. Worst of ideas, it was, but she can’t quite regret it when she’s beyond tipsy.

Someone rests their hand on the sleeve of her coat, pulling it up her shoulder before patting her back. Sobs rip from her mouth, lungs contracting and breaths suffocating with the sickness that revolves her stomach. A soft, yet somewhat confused, voice talks to her, rubbing circles on her back in the process.

“Hey, everything is going to be alright. Just breathe.”

Tears mix with her mascara, touching down to her worn-out lipstick as she breathes out: “I—I can’t…I feel so sick.”

This is a man that is talking to her, she can tell that much, but when he fixes her tangled hair from her earrings and continues to speak words of comfort to her, she can’t figure out anything else. A lisp is there, that’s all she can tell. “Oh no. You’ve drank too much.” Unsure of what to say or do, from her peripheral vision, she can see the man looking around the streets. Brown hair, glasses, and a black cardigan, but she doesn’t remember anything else. “I’m here with you. Calm down.”

Before she could say anything else, her stomach lifts its contents and she brings her weight forward once again.

From the faint distance, she can hear a small ‘ew’ from the man.

“Shit. Are any of your friends here?” With the smallest of nods, the man complies with another question. “W—What’s her name?”

“Kang Dasom.”

“Kang Dasom. Kang Dasom. Okay. Okay, I can do this.” More-so talking to himself, the man retreats from his spot beside her. Gone, like everyone, leaving the drunken, sobbing mess that is herself at this moment, it’s not a surprise that he left her to go find her friend. However, his actions say otherwise. “Hey, guard! Can you go look for Kang Dasom inside? I can’t leave her alone.”

Once again by her side, she wraps her fingers around his taut forearm, lifting her gaze for one second, but unable to make out a figure of his blurred features. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t be.” The man in question instructs, slipping his backpack off one shoulder before taking out a bottle of water, flimsily giving it to her. “Take a few sips, please.”

She does as he says, letting the cold liquid go down her abused throat, the man’s warm fingertips rubbing the tears away from her cheeks before she sighs. “…Thank you. I must look so…wacky.”

At the adjective she uses, the stranger chuckles. “It’s a new fashion trend, don’t worry.”

Smiling lazily, she hears the sound of the door opening, her name breathed out by a worried tone. “Oh my God, sweetie! I couldn’t find you anywhere!”

Dasom’s arms wrap around her body, not caring that she is smelly, just vomited, and that she’s head over heels drunk. “It’s okay…” She breathes out, feeling her stomach calm down at the touch of the lulling water, but Dasom pulls away to look at her.

“It’s not okay! God, anything could’ve happened to you…”

The stranger speaks in a low tone, playing with whatever is hanging from his neck. A necklace? A camera? A bag? She can’t tell. “I have to go back to work. Is everything going to be alright?”

Dasom looks at the man for one fraction of a second before humming. “We’ll be fine, thank you.” Though, she doesn’t get enough time to say anything to the stranger with the familiar voice, instead sucking in a breath when Dasom takes her by the waist and drags her towards the edge of the sidewalk, eyes already trained on her phone. “I’m going to call our taxi. We need to take you back home.”

The night wasn’t so bad, at least, for she realized there are still good people in this world.

###

All her life she has lived in the backseat, now she realizes.

Shadows of mistakes, people in other cars able to see her, but with the motion, she never captured a glance of them. People judged her, but they never stopped to see the real image, the driver and where it was taking her, how the road was and how the breeze could change the trees, the weather, and the time when everything happened. It’s not what she signed up for, but it’s the only thing she has known.

She knew the media before she even knew what a friend was. Learned how to look at the camera even before she learned how to speak to someone while staring at them face-to-face. Her name was said by other people, strangers at that, before she even knew how to spell it or write it. It’s not what she desired, but she keeps going. Her hands extend to continue with her dance routine, stepping forward just for one second, knowing that this is the only moment to shine. One of the few moments she is not the little girl everyone expected the worst from.

Look at what you’ve become, she wants to tell herself. You’re halfway through being an artist.

One day until her first performance in front of the crowd, and she’s ready to take it like a champion. Good or bad reviews, whatever happens is the source of her hard work—rather, it’s outcome. Her sneakers dig into the stage. Her stage that she shares with amazing people, and if twenty seconds of singing is all she gets, it’s what she is going to hold onto.

Upon reaching her mark, she feels a log—a leaf in her road to autumn. Her body proceeds to fall upon losing her balance, knees digging into the wood, creating dents in the skin, burning at the touch when her hands expand to stand her weight. Her chin hits the floor, but the masked laughter that comes from the person by her side shows the culprit. Baby blue sneakers, toned legs, and that malice that conceptualizes.

Kaleigh stops the music, fixing her glasses before sighing deeply. “Are you trying to kiss the floor?”

She sits up at that moment, her fingers pointing at Hyun by her side. Supposed to be her companion in this scene and yet, destroying everything that drives her to her dreams. “Ask the one that jutted her leg forward so I could trip.”

“I didn’t do such thing.”

Kaleigh, as always, backs her up. “I didn’t see her putting her leg forward.” Before she could defend herself any further, let the fire of the stress burn through Kaleigh’s serious expression, the woman is already looking behind her, speaking to the dot of a man that she can’t perceive at the last row of the practice place. “Are the pictures coming out fine? I don’t want people to see our cast on the floor.”

The more she proceeds in life, the more she realizes she is the only one that can bring herself up, dust her knees before anyone could even put a finger over her. It’s better this way. The photographer gets away from the shadows, lowering the Canon from his face before nodding slowly. “I’m getting good shots. Thank you for worrying.”

That lisp. If she moved her head any faster, she would have gotten whiplash. Upon watching the man’s face, she feels as though the Earth swallows her whole. Rounded face, toned body, his ears hidden by his beanie, glasses propped on the bridge of his nose, thin lips and that melodious smile. A bit silly at times, but yet, so enchanting on him.

“Ah,” Mingyu gets closer to the stage, standing by the edge before extending his camera towards her. Yes. Her. Why in the hell can’t she move? Men shouldn’t have this kind of effect on her. Anyone, really. “I want you to check your pictures with me, just in case you don’t like…the way you look or something. The expressions! Yes, that’s what I’m trying to say.”

Good, because she almost thought for a moment that he was trying to say: ‘Hey, your pictures are looking ugly. Can you check and tell me if you’re alright with them?’.

Finally, she steps forward, her legs dangling when she rests her bottom on the stage. “Sure.” Mingyu stands by her side, looking at her profile for a second before returning his gaze to his thick Canon camera, flickering through the pictures he had taken. Bright, with good poses, the angles fitting for every subject of his camera. “I like them.”

“This is the one from when you fell,” Mingyu instructs, making a circle around Hyun’s stuck-out leg. “And she did stick her leg out.”

“Well, I’m not crazy.” She says, rolling her eyes in the process before linking her hands over her lap. Mingyu looks at her, and for some reason, she feels like she knows him. After all, she saw a portion of him not a lot of people got to see—more mature, he seems to be, void of a glistening band around his finger. Perhaps, he just doesn’t like rings at all.

Mingyu looks up and down her features, long eyelashes fluttering against the underside of his eyes before smiling briefly. “Not crazy, but very drunk at times.”

Huh?

Drunk?!

“Excuse me?” She asks, because there is no way in hell Mingyu has seen her or gotten to know her, much less be aware of her when drunken—

Mingyu leans his weight against the stage, elbows propped back as he talks to her. “You don’t remember me?”

From the CD’s? Yeah. From a drunk night? Hell no. “…What do you mean?” She won’t quite in fact confess that she does remember him.

Roses grow on his cheeks, shaking his head when looking down at his camera. “Well, we were at the Urban Lounge. I was taking pictures, and just as I was about to head inside once again with my new film, I saw someone throwing up in the sidewalk. Crying, too.” Oh no. Oh please, don’t let this be the truth— “I decided to help you find your friend Kang Dasom, and then, I returned to the party.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh, yes.”

What are the odds that the sweet man that had rubbed her back when vomiting, was also the same man that helped her with her anxiousness each day when getting home from practice? There can’t be that many good people in this world, but Mingyu couldn’t be two of the nice people she had gotten to know in this city.

Or, rather, he was.

“Nothing to be ashamed of. We have all been there.” Mingyu stops for a moment, pressing his lips together, rubbing them, before releasing his words. “Me more than others, but it’s nice to be the one helping for a change.”

More souls like his should exist in this world. “Ugh, I can’t believe you saw me like that.” She groans, lowering her head until her neck hangs it. Mingyu chuckles from his spot, only to build the tension inside of her. The man in the recordings had seen her like a whole mess, and found it funny at that. Wow. “…You know, not a lot of people can say that they have seen me like that.”

“Not a lot of people see someone throw up before they actually know their names, but alas, here we are.”

“What a way to make a lady feel better.”

Mingyu’s smile falters the slightest bit at that, extending his hand before saying. “Hello, I’m Mingyu, but in this occasion, you can call me a dumbass.”

Funny, he is, enough for a smile to rake over her features even when her elbows and knees hurt. She speaks her name out, letting his professional and soft fingers caress against her own in a shake. Long digits, perfect for photo-taking, but horrible to think about when she remembers he is possibly married.

“I was joking. Don’t worry about it.” Instead, she hears her name being called, Kaleigh with her hands on her hips, waiting for her to return to the stage. “…Uh, I kind of have to get back to work.”

Now, she realizes the thing that dangled from the man at the lounge’s neck was his camera, the strip giving him more leverage when he nods at her. “I do, too.”

“Nice to meet you, Mingyu.”

Nice to meet you, again, maybe.

“Likewise.”

Though, she feels someone stare behind her when she turns around and gets back on her spot, she tries not to think much of it. He may be trying to get a good picture of the one figure in the shadows that is her.

###

Fourteen hours for the first performance of When The Kids Go To Sleep.

Fourteen hours and in the solitude of that stage, with only one light on, everyone from the staff gone to their homes, she feels the most like a star. In this stage, right at this moment, it feels like a star will be born.

The lyrics to the final song repeat themselves from her lips. She knows them by heart, the reason as to why she moved here on the first place, and with her hands gathering all the emotions in the air only to press them to her chest, she feels like she is five percent more ready for the night after. Or, actually, tonight—midnight, it is, and she still hasn’t left the practice room.

Everyone is gone, what is the worse that could happen?

Just as she moves to another spot, keeping the tempo and the rhythm of her feet, a thud interrupts her. Loud, clear, as if someone had opened the door and jumped on the floor. She halters her step, watching the locked doors with a frown on her features. If that door wasn’t open, then how had the sound appeared on the first place?

Her vocal cords close, swallowing thickly as she looks around the stage. If this is a robber, she needs to find something to defend herself with. An umbrella rests at the edge of the stairs, the one she had brought with herself on the rainy morning, cladded in Winnie The Pooh logos on a baby blue background. One step down the stairs and she hears it again, that thud, followed by the incomprehensible set of words the robber says.

Fuck. Someone’s here.

Someone is here and she had not even noticed.

Precision in her walk, she goes over to the hallway to the left of the entrance door, where the noises get louder as she gets closer to the storage rooms and bathrooms. One step forward, followed by her next leg, keeps moving her towards the culprit of the noise, both hands grabbing onto the body of the umbrella with a plan inside her head. She’ll knock this motherfucker down for scaring her that way.

The robber has some sense of humor, however. When she stands in front of one of the storage rooms, the door half-opened, the sound of one Eminem song escaping his lips becomes the main source of speech in this room. Who the hell sings an Eminem song when stealing?

The world is made out of colors and opinions. Maybe, this robber found it fitting.

She opens the door with one swing, lifting her umbrella well up in the air before knocking it against the robber’s head, the smack welcomed by a groan and a whine from the stealer.

“I’m going to call the police—” The robber turns around, both hands cladding his head, his brown hair sticking out at certain spots, a confused glance in his eyes. Well, so that is why the robber was singing Eminem…because it wasn’t a robber at all. “Mingyu?”

Blame it on her sleep deprivation. Yes. That’s it.  

“Ouch?” Mingyu utters out, separating the word in syllables just as she reaches forward, rubbing the portion of his head that she just hit.

“I’m sorry. I thought it was someone trying to steal from me and kill me—”

“Who sings while stealing?” Mingyu questions, finally lifting his gaze and straightening his body. His eyes connect to hers, and she finally realizes just how much of a bitch paranoia is.

“I don’t know. I’m sure they enjoy music, as well.”

Mingyu looks at her for a second, blinking, silenced, until laughter escapes his lips. Shortened, at that. “You should consider changing your career path. That arm?” The man flings his arm back and forth, as if pretending to receive the ball from a pitcher in a baseball game. “Perfect for a baseball player.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she grins. “What were you even doing here, oh-so-funny-man?”

The man in question waves his camera in the air, clearing his throat soon after. “Checking the pictures and the videos to see which ones I should take tomorrow.” Right, he probably was preparing for the big night as well. “You’re doing great, by the way. I could hear you from here.”

It’s been a while since she has believed she has done great. Her umbrella becomes her axis, resting it on the floor as she leans on it, a sigh leaving her lips. “I still have a long way before I get to Hyun’s level.”

A bright star under a roof, that’s how Hyun was going to be perceived, while she was going to be one twinkling firelight passing by. Mingyu bites the inside of his cheek, moving towards her with careful steps. “Hey, it’s not a competition…” He tries to make her feel better, as per usual with Kim Mingyu for what she has realized from his videos, but she shakes her head, chuckling in the process.

“God, I’m making it too serious.” She rolls her eyes. After all, Mingyu is a complete stranger. It’s not like he knows that she has seen one of the most private portions of his life in video. “But yes, you’re right. It isn’t supposed to be a competition, but it’s what Hyun has made it so…”

“Then, win.” Mingyu concludes, his lips lifting to the left in a smirk.

She quirks one eyebrow, tilting her head to the side. “Easier said than done.”

“Like everything, but just wait, people will see the same thing I did today.” His eyes trail down her features, chuckling a bit to himself out of awkwardness before clearing his throat. One step back, and the electricity is cut short. “Your pictures came out fine, too. I’ll make sure to do a great job tomorrow.”

“You’re going to be the photographer for the rest of the play?”

“From time to time. As long as I’m not gigged, I’ll be here.” Mingyu replies, placing the strap of his camera’s bag on his shoulder before sighing. “I’ll go catch up on some sleep now. You’re staying here until the morning or do you want me to call you a taxi?”

Tiredness lingers on her body, but she can’t bring herself to sleep. Not when she is one step closer to either fulfilling or destroying her dream. Opening the door for him, she shakes her head. “I’ll stay here until the morning.”

“You sure?”

“I have to practice.”

“If you say so…” He trails, stepping out of the door and walking alongside her before speaking up again. “You know everything is going to be fine, right?”

One look at his profile and suddenly, the warmth that makes place inside her body lets her feel so. Being alright is something she hasn’t considered in the past month of pushing herself to utter perfection, but maybe, it isn’t so far away.

“I think so, too.”

Sprinkles of rain patter against the sidewalk when Mingyu opens the entrance door, swirls of air moving his hair before he places his beanie on top of it once again. Before he could step outside, his hand grabs the handle of the door, sharing a glance with her when saying:

“I hope to see you again.”

With that, just like a leaf through the wind, he flies away.

###

Success tastes like honey.

The magic of being on stage in a musical is that she doesn’t see anybody, but she feels them. The silence that merges into cheers, the faint gasp from someone on row three, or the flash of a camera from someone who wants to capture this moment for when they feel like going back down the stage of nostalgia. Critics scatter around the place, but she can’t vision them, maybe for the better. With shred clothing, bruises and tiredness painted on her skin, she is her character, and whatever her past said about her no longer exists here.

The only thing that lacks are her loved ones, somewhere else in the country, living their lives while she constructs her own. Jaehyo does an imminent job in catching people’s attention with his dance, though not in the center, and Sue does not fall behind with her immaculate acting skills. Hyun, the star of the night, receives attention as deserved. Sure, she is not the most beautiful of people on the inside, but her talent is outraging.

When her bare feet come in contact with the center of the stage, sharing it with Hyun, she spares one look towards the groups of people. First row, with his dark hair absentmindedly pushed away from his face, a black, oversized t-shirt cladding his body and matching his ripped jeans, Mingyu is squatting down to get the perfect shot. The dimmed lights do not let her see the beauty of him, but the camera is pointing towards her, and she relishes on it.

Mingyu’s camera does her justice, after all.

By the time the musical is over, a smile takes over her features, backstage and hearing the standing ovation, blood pumping, hands jittery, and heart on her sleeve when she goes over to Jaehyo and wraps her arms around him with emotions bubbling up on her bloodshot eyes. She really needs to sleep.

The older man’s arms end around her waist. “We did it, Jaehyo! It was a success!” Jumping up and down on his hold, Jaehyo chuckles at her antics.

“Calm down, calm down, it’s only the first night.” Jaehyo whispers, pulling away with a lazy smile on his face. “…But it was one hell of a good first night. Pizza for celebration?”

“You know it!”

The next fifteen minutes consist of taking pictures, trying her best not to concentrate on the photographer or on the hunger that creeps up her body, unable to smile as brightly if it wasn’t for Mingyu. Lacking sleep, needing a nice, fulfilling meal, it’s no wonder that she had not slept a single minute in the past forty-eight hours. Maybe, that’s why she is a bit bummed when Mingyu doesn’t say a thing to her, continuing with his job with utmost professionalism.

Some children gather to take pictures with the cast, unknowingly filling her heart with pride. In one point of her life, she was like them, eager and excited to get the attention of her favorite characters. The magic of theater is that characters, and actors alike, are not unreachable to the watcher. It’s a live source of magic.

Jaehyo is off to greet the deliveryman outside by the time thirty minutes have passed. Her makeup wipes run across her skin, ready to take off the excessive amount of makeup on her skin and exchange it for breathing pores and comfort. She stops looking at her reflection to hunt for someone with the mirror, scanning the room unbeknownst to the rest of the people there. Mingyu’s thighs extend when seated at the edge of one of the vanities backstage, clicking through the pictures as one of the children talks to him. Mingyu seems to be intently listening to the child, but when he looks for something from the corner of his eyes, she feels his gaze on hers.

Her eyes trail down his toned arms, the expansion of his thighs, seeking for the art in him as if she is DaVinci and he is the Mona Lisa. A smile appears on her features, straightening her back and leaning her weight forward to continue to rub her makeup off, not forgetting to make herself look the best as possible. At least, he’s looking.

Yet, she shakes that thought away—he shouldn’t be looking. As far as she knows, he could still be with Yoona.

A hand extends on top of her shoulder seconds after, rubbing at the skin softly, as if giving her a massage, before breathing out her name in that somewhat deep, harmonious tone of his. “…Wasn’t so difficult to steal the show, wasn’t it?”

For someone who is not a good talker in most occasions, the line has her beam widening. “You’re joking.”

“No,” Mingyu says, dragging one seat to her side, the plastic chair making him look smaller next to her, for her artist’s chair is much taller. His legs expand, interlocked hands settled in between his thighs, and she really should stop looking at those—

Her eyes go up.

“Want to look at your pictures?”

She puts the makeup wipe down, running her fingertips on top of her eyelashes to check if there is any leftover mascara there. Clean. All the makeup is off. “Is that the only conversation we are ever going to have? My pictures?”

“We should.” Mingyu mumbles out, frowning his features in confusion before his eyebrows shoot up, realization falling upon him. “Not that I don’t want to talk to you about anything else! Shit, that sounded like such—. Yes, we can talk about something else.”

The smell of thick sauce, melted cheese and corn has her turning towards the red curtains, watching Jaehyo slip inside before giving her the box of pizza that belongs to her. Thanking him softly, she opens it on top of the vanity, pointing at it as she talks to Mingyu. “Help yourself. I haven’t had one of these since the night at the bar.”

Mingyu stands up, hovering over her to be able to get a piece, and she tries her hardest not to bite her lip at the vision of his profile. Definitely crafted by an artist, he is a sculpture made person. “And yet, here you are, eating it again.”

“It may be our thing now.” She replies, leaning back on her seat to watch Hyun downing yet another energy drink, hands contracting against each other, her expression turned somber. “Hey, Hyun!” She calls out, only to have the woman frowning at the sound of her voice and turning her head to the side.

“What do you want?”

“I asked Jaehyo to bring you some pizza. Tell him to—”

“I won’t have it.” Hyun finishes, picking up her purse and throwing it over her shoulder. “…Thank you.” She utters, though she doesn’t stay for long, opening the red curtains and getting away from the actors’ spot.

She doesn’t know why she tries. Maybe, because she thinks the tension between Hyun and herself could be the downfall of the musical, but Hyun is just too thick mentally. “How did this whole rivalry start?” Mingyu says, taking the first bite of his slice before he huffs slightly, trying to cool down the piece that is inside his mouth. Even with his lips half-parted, eyes widened, there is some cuteness to him.

Pressing the pizza up to her lips and biting on it, she shakes her head. “I have no idea.” She replies. “…Are we playing questions now?”

Mingyu shrugs. “Only if you have some.”

“About you? Endless.” She says, leaning forward until she is face to face with Mingyu, taking all in her not to look down at his lips. “When did you start taking pictures?”

“When I was seventeen,” Mingyu says, not backing down the slightest, yet chewing on his meal with expertise. He must have been hungry, as well. “One of my best friends needed some money, so he was trying for modelling gigs. Needed a portfolio and all…so I took pictures of him.”

“Did modelling work for him?”

“Almost.” Mingyu says, finalizing his pizza with one big bite, taking a napkin and pressing it to his lips before continuing after swallowing his food. “Soonyoung is good, my friend. Just…he’s shy, I guess? He didn’t see his potential then, doesn’t do it now. That’s just what happened.”

“Something good came out of it, though. You’re a great photographer.”

“Thank you.” With heated cheeks, he answers. “What about music for you? Or acting…or dancing? Like, musical stuff is just too much. I don’t know how you do it. I can barely walk and talk at the same time.”

Chuckling, she sighs, taking another slice of pizza. A string of cheese follows her first bite. “Uh,” She starts, pondering on exactly what to say. “My family has always been…well, famous. For the longest while, I thought I was going to be anything but famous, like…I don’t know, a teacher or something.” She may like children, but patience is not her biggest of virtues. “But I had no option than to be in the spotlight. Got my first acting gig in a doctor’s show, and I started to like it since then.”

“You were in TV?”

“I was patient number three. That was my character.”

Mingyu laughs joyfully, like he doesn’t care the slightest bit about what the world thinks of him—every particle of this world belongs to him and gives their attention to the beauty of his existence. “Oh, look at that, that’s my favorite character of all time.”

“Want me to give you an autograph?”

Pretending to take off his shirt, Mingyu replies: “On my boobies, please.”

“You did not.” She counterparts, doubling over in laughter at his behavior. “You better have a good set.”

“A good set of what?”

Curling her fingers in the air, she replies: “Boobies, as you called them. I call them titties.”

“Look at me ruining my own joke.”

“Lost the comedic timing, but don’t worry, that happens.” For one second, she inspects the glisten of the cheese on top of pizza, licking her lips with curiousness guiding her actions. “…Your girlfriend must like your jokes, Mingyu.”

Now, let’s see exactly what happened with Yoona. Or Kim Yoona. They should be married at this point. Mingyu runs his free hand through his hair, leaning back on his seat and crossing one leg over the other. “My friends do, but I don’t have a girlfriend to tell my jokes to.”

“…Huh?”

“Surprising?” Mingyu questions, though there is not an ounce of cockiness in his words.

“Very.”

“Why’s that?”

Pointing at the mirror, she says: “Take a look there and then, you’ll know why I wonder you don’t have someone with you.” Also, because he was one day from getting married in the last recording of the box. What had happened? Perhaps, he had been stood up, or they cut the wedding short. Or, even worse, Yoona had been the one left at the altar—

Mingyu chuckles at that moment, grease glistening on his lips, licking them to press them together. “Thank you.”

Sue comes around at that moment, sporting much more simplistic clothes and holding her box of pizza in between her hands. “We’re going to grab dessert and drinks, want to join us?” Jaehyo stands by her side, munching on his meal, and they are two angels at that moment. Kim Mingyu is single, wanting to get to know her, and maybe, hiding the fact that she knew about his relationship a little bit longer won’t do her any wrong.

She looks over at him, shrugging. “I wouldn’t mind. Want to come with us?”

“I have to take care of you if you drink, don’t I?”

“Oh, don’t be too confident.” She says, standing up and picking up her coat, closing the box of pizza in the process. “I may be the one taking care of you.”

Imitating her tone of voice, Mingyu says: “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Mingyu repeats, looking down at her lips before returning his gaze towards Jaehyo and Sue. “Let me grab my camera.”

###

Exquisiteness is divine. Pearls in the bracelets around her wrists, a nice dress cladding her body, and the taste of the most delicious of meals, washed away by the concoctions of a chef. The summer nights passed long ago, but the newest era of success has come to her now. Third night, not in a row, of her introduction to the musical world, and each time she sees Mingyu, they end up hanging out after. At first, it was with Jaehyo and Sue, then, it was backstage…and now, she has brought him to a four-star-restaurant, one of the most expensive in the city.

The white ceramic of the plate she is eating from leaves imprints of Ratatouille on its wake, interrupting her speech about one of her childhood memories in order to catch a glimpse of the source of the flash hitting her face. This is familiar—whenever she held hands with one of her family members as a child, someone would take the opportunity to bring a camera up her face, judge her for how she was going to turn out to be without really knowing her. Basking in money, she thought she’d never care—but she did. Having people comment on her from the moment she was born played with her mind far more than she comments.

Beauty of the soul is never enough for them. In a world like this, people can’t be pure.

But with Mingyu, she feels the purest. His eye squints as he takes a picture of her, barely touching his food, as he’d say…embarrassed that she is paying for such an expensive meal. Yet, he deserves it. Sent from heaven, bathed in the golden speckles of destiny, bringing light to the most mundane of activities. He petrifies memories, and what an irony it is, that what she ran away from the most as she was growing up is his biggest passion.

She licks her lips, half-laughing at his antics. “Did you just take a picture of me?”

“You get a very pensive look on your face when you think about the past.” Perhaps, because it hurts her. Racing cars, lovers that didn’t last more than a week, memories of self-love that plaster on what other people thought of her. Young, rich and pretty doesn’t cut it in this world. “S—Sorry, I interrupted you, didn’t I? You were talking about the last time you went to Los Angeles—”

“It doesn’t matter.” She whispers, rubbing her fingers together to take the perspiration away from her skin. “Life is monotone when you’re somewhat famous. You do the same thing over and over again, pretending like it makes you happy.”

“Is that why you moved here?”

In reality, it was the addition of a few things. Her break-up. Her dream. Her opportunity. And running away. “What’s funny is that I didn’t even know what I would do once I moved here,” She replies, shrugging her shoulders after. “My best friend, Miyoung, I talked about her with you…she’s a figure skater, and she was supposed to attend the Olympics this year, but she broke her foot two days before I left. I thought that was the big sign for me not leaving.” Thoughtfully, she thinks back to the phone call she received in the middle of the night above a month ago. Miyoung had not rested the slightest, leading to an injury and sooner than later, a broken foot. Turns out that she would not be able to perform the same way she did before. “…But Miyoung told me it was quite the contrary, that it worked as a push-over for me to get here. According to her, it was my only chance to get a name for myself.”

“You’re on your way there.” Mingyu says, though her rests his camera on his lap, tasting the meal in front of him. “…I didn’t know about your family history or about you before, but I think people will start to recognize you as your own person soon.”

Hopefully, she can only think. “You know what?” She questions. Throughout the entirety of her time there, through the videos she had seen with Mingyu starring in them, an idea had crossed her head— “I think I’d be my happiest if I was just another person into this world. Like you.”

Mingyu shakes his head. “You’re crazy.” He tells her. “Exchanging money, power and success for…being like me?”

“I happen to think you’re a very good person.”

“Kind of.” Mingyu confesses, covering his mouth when he laughs: “But the day I’m gone from this world, no one will remember me. You can leave a mark on people’s lives.”

“So can you!”

“Probably to my children in the future, but not—”

“Listen, Mingyu—” Her words cut short then. How can she say this without outing what will inherently make him mad? “You’ve left your mark on people, I am sure.”

“It’s not the same.” His eyes shine under the golden chandeliers. Young ambition takes over him. “You’ll be legendary. I’ll be remembered by my neighborhood.”

“Maybe, we could exchange.”

“Or we could meet in the middle.” Mingyu conquers, and she likes that even more. Two souls that are clearly different but dance in the middle. Her leg extends forward, brushing against his skin, because she has seen this scene a few times in her life—romance in the form of getting to know each other, but for now, she doesn’t want to care about the outcome. Fuck the introduction or the conclusion, the development is always the best part.

“You know what I want to do?” She asks, the music in the background changing into some typical jazz tune, just as she hovers over the table, face to face with him.

You, she wants to tell him, instead, she looks into his eyes, Mingyu’s expression turning serious, cutting the tension with one of his smiles. “I don’t read minds.” He says. “Tell me?”

“I want to take pictures of you.” She replies, hang reaching for the camera on his lap, trying to understand the garment when she goes back to her seat. Pulling it up to her face, she squints one eye just like he does. She only needs to focus on him, right? “And keep them.”

“Why?” Mingyu asks, though, she can see him softly changing his pose, as to look more relaxed and camera-ready. Well, he does like a bit of attention.

“I want to remember the person that makes me believe there are still good people in this world.” The camera flashes when she takes a first picture, leaning back on her seat to capture more of his body in that black turtleneck and the necklace that wraps around his body. Tanned skin, brown hair, and a beautiful smile when she says those words.

“You haven’t known me for long enough to judge that, you know?”

“Then, give me the benefit of getting to know you more.”

A glimpse of his eyes connecting with hers on the camera has her smiling. “I’ll gladly give it to you.”

At the mention of those words, she lifts her eyebrows, another picture and her mind wander towards to possibilities. “What will you give me? The benefit of getting to know you? Just that?”

“You want more?”

“…It’s enough.”

Mingyu leans forward, his face coming in full view in the camera when he snatches it away from her hold, before whispering. “I was going to say I could give you everything you want, but seeing that just knowing me it’s enough…I’ll accept it.”

God. This man will be the death of her.

###

Two weeks in and not seeing Mingyu feels like it’s almost impossible. They gravitate towards each other—polar opposites that meet in the middle. His steps are heard as she keeps her hand to his, dragging him along over the lineal rug of the hotel they visited—for the pool, which Dasom said was the best—, baby blue doors compared to white walls, the faint swish of the pool nearby making music for the two of them to hear.

“Mingyu, hurry up!”

The fabric of her yellow dress caresses her legs, needing nothing more than to feel like she is living in summer, while the wind clashes with its coldness. Hopefully, the pool warms her body. Mingyu pulls her backwards by the white cardigan draped over her body, connecting his chest to her back. With each breath he takes, her own lungs shake, his voice lowering to speak against her ear.

“What’s the rush?” He asks, the few buttons opened of his floral shirt meeting her contracted muscles. “If I really went as fast as I can go, you wouldn’t be able to keep up.”

That’s the thing with Mingyu—he says the worst of things, in the situations that have her skin heating up, her mind going to places it shouldn’t. Not when he makes her feel like nobody else has done, as if scalding her fingertips to touch him would be worth it. Just before he could apologize, like he always does, because Mingyu just can’t say one thing without fucking up, she looks at him from over her shoulder. “Try me.”

A huff escapes his lips, wrapping both arms around her waist when picking her up and starting to rush through the hallway to get to the swimming pool.

“Mingyu—” Cackles leave her lips, legs flaring because he is just not looking forward. At least, not properly. “We could fall!”

“I’ll catch you if that happens—”

“You don’t know that!”

Floating in the clouds, somewhere beyond the universe, she lets her laughter speak for her. Never would she trust someone with this, but this is Mingyu she is talking about. The man that opens his heart without much thinking. “I promise I won’t let you fall. Just tell me when the swimming pool is close.”

Patting his arm, the toned skin coming in contact with her hand, she says: “Now, now! We’re close—”

Mingyu lets go of her after releasing her on the floor with a thud, turning around to watch the smile on his face when he puffs out his chest and adds: “See? I would never let you fall.”

“Not scientifically proven, so I’m not sure if I can believe you.”

“…You’re so annoying.” Laughing, she places her hands on each side of Mingyu’s body. She needs to get back to him, steal chuckles from his lips, so with one step back, she prepares for the biggest surprise of all. “Do you want me to turn around so you can take off your dress or—?”

Another step back and they are both falling inside the pool, dragged by her own weight.

Warm water bubbles around her, unable to open her eyes until her lungs receive air when getting to the surface. There, the droplets of water cling to her eyelashes, watching Mingyu merging up about at the same time that she did. His shirt clings to his body, thankfully wearing his bathing suit, strands of brown hair pressed to his gorgeous skin when he splashes water her way, though she’s already laughing.

“Don’t do that!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Yet, Mingyu keeps splashing water at her, getting closer and closer until he is just mere centimeters away.

“You think it’s funny, don’t you?”

“I’m a musical actress, not a comedian. Sorry.” Taking the damp cardigan in between her hands, she tosses it to the side, landing at the edge of the pool with a clanking noise from its buttons before jutting her chin forwards towards him. “I’m sorry about your shirt.”

“You just wanted me to take it off.”

“You would’ve even if I hadn’t thrown you into the pool.”

“So, you brought me to this pool for that on the first place.” Mingyu says, brown irises darkening when her fingers reach for the edge of her dress, pulling it up until she is left in a one-piece. That’s the magic of him—making her feel like there is not a competition, as if she’s the most gorgeous woman he has seen in a while. Her assumptions about herself are not seen by him.

“So,” She says, letting the dress fall to the side and trying not to cling to her own body, shrinking in order to hide away from him. Mingyu’s fingers hook around every button of his shirt, taking it off little by little to showcase his slim, yet toned body. “Swimming competition and whoever gets to end of the pool buys dinner?”

“I’ll buy dinner either way, but sure—” She needs to look away. The least she needs is that lingering voice inside her head that tells her that she’d do absolutely anything to get a taste of Kim Mingyu. It feels wrong, how he doesn’t know where she lives, what she found out when being there, how the lines of their stories always seemed to connect…but maybe, he’d feel taken off guard if only he knew the truth. That, in retrospect, she had seen the beauty of him before he even knew about her.

Her phone rings from the bag that she had left at the edge of the pool when Mingyu dropped her on the flooring. Incessantly. Even when she starts swimming with him, laughing along and splashing him on the face at the same time he does, it continues ringing.

Mingyu spares one look at her, pointing at her phone when saying: “Want me to get it for you?”

“No,” Worry rises up inside of her, swimming quickly until she got to the edge of the pool, the third call appearing on her screen once again. Mingyu’s presence is felt right behind her, but she can’t concentrate on him when she reads the contact.

Miyoung.

Something happened to Miyoung.

“Hello?” Fear clings to her chest. Miyoung, her best friend, the apple to her eye, could not have her life any worse than what it is right now. She doesn’t deserve it and as her best friend, she won’t let it happen. “Miyoung, are you okay?”

“Of course, babe. I’m fine.” Miyoung speaks in her typical purred out tone. A breath trapped inside her lungs lets go at that moment, leaning her weight forward just when Mingyu presses his hand to her back, rubbing those soothing circles that she knows so much.

“How is your foot?”

“Healed, thankfully. You already know that.”

“Goddamn it, Miyoung, I thought something had happened to you—”

“Haven’t you checked YouTube? I’m not the one you should be worrying about. Worry about yourself.”

YouTube? One or two videos about her musical had appeared, but she hasn’t been in the headlines for a bad reason. “Why should I worry? What are you talking about?”

Mingyu moves over to her side, and she can feel his eyes penetrating into her side profile when Miyoung utters out: “Haseul released his newest comedy special, and the motherfucker mentioned you. People are going crazy with the memes, you need to check it out.”

“What?” Her ex-boyfriend hadn’t crossed her head in a while. After all, remembering what hurt her the most—the obsession of always being right, the lies, the friends that he said he had nothing to do with and the way he passed her every opinion over his ass as if it didn’t matter…is not what she plans on doing. Not when she’s moving on. Yet, it seems like he doesn’t want her to do just that.

“Check it out. I’m—I’m talking to my PR team man to make a statement. I’m tired of his bullshit.”

“Don’t, don’t!” She says quickly. Miyoung’s career has already fallen down, she doesn’t need unnecessary drama. “I’ll fix it. I—I just need to look at it, okay?”

“Babe, promise me you’re not going to feel bad.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Horrible.”

“Then, I can’t promise anything.” With a sigh, she looks down. “I’ll call you later, okay? Let me see what all of this is about.”

When putting her phone down, it takes less than a second for Mingyu to speak, worry dripping from his every tone. “Wh—What happened?”

Well, time for a fraction of the truth. “Before I came here…I was dating some guy. Well, we had been dating for three months at a maximum. Cheated on me. Went out partying. The typical stuff someone of power does in most occasions.” Turning to her side, she takes the phone in between her hands, looking up the comedian’s name. “He’s a comedian. Eo Haseul. I don’t know if you know him but—”

“Yeah, I know about his comedy.” Mingyu’s frown deepens, extending one hand when leaning on the edge of the pool. “Isn’t he the guy who can only make sex jokes?”

“The one and only.” There it is, the video that Miyoung had been talking about, with over six hundred thousand views in four hours. Well, there goes her reputation. The title of his comedy set is shown there, but nothing else is added. “…We broke up before I left. He broke up with me, basically. Miyoung just called me to tell me he made a comedy set about me.”

“No way.” Mingyu whispers, leaning over her shoulder to be able to look at the loading screen.

“I mean, it shouldn’t be that bad, let’s see what he says.”

It was even worse than she had imagined.

Haseul, in what she had once thought was perfection, stares at the laughing crowd as his lips rest against the mic. His hair is sleeked back, thick eyebrows pursed together when he says: “And yeah, man, I learned last summer that you shouldn’t date a famous bitch. Or a semi-famous one. Normal, average women are fine but give someone some money and they think they can do whatever the fuck they please.” A few sets of laughter follow his statement, and he scoffs a bit for dramatics, trying to make himself sound more interesting. “I’m sure you guys know who I’m talking about, but…now that I’m out of that relationship, I can say that she was crazy. Eyes rolled to the back of her head, greedy as all shit, type of crazy.” He says, as if she is not human—as if she had not done everything in her power to make that toxic relationship work. “I would show you all the videos we had of each other fucking, but man, it’s just too crazy. I’d have to be filling all holes, even the bellybutton. When women are given power? They don’t get pleased by anything. I’d have to contort my body and shit, just to be able to make her moan for one second.”

Tears well up in her vision. The intimacy they had, exaggerated and highlighted for the world to see, torn to shreds because she is a woman with apparent power. Why is it that she can never have some source of happiness before it gets taken away from her?

“And the issues, man. God, I would have to hear her sigh on and on about her issues after sex. Just had my dick and she still had the time to think about how her rich, immaculate life was just not enough for her. See what I mean?”

Laughter, even though it’s not funny, people seem to enjoy it. Trying to turn the tables around, Haseul shrugs.

“I can’t even show you the videos because…I have to be honest, I’m not the biggest of men when it comes to that but—” For once, he targets himself, but the smirk on his face says he is not over with it. “It doesn’t matter. I have to cover my back. The bitch blocked me with the same hand she used to jerk me with.”

The subject changes, but her ears are ringing. Burning anger, impotence, and the tears that escape her eyes as she puts her phone down and rests her forehead against the tiles of the pool.

What was she thinking when she got with him?

“None of those things are true…” She whispers, covering her mouth as if to stop herself from talking. Mingyu, however, maneuvers his body to be able to wrap his arms around her. Her face rests against his chest, the cold skin touching hers, too afraid to look him in the eye. What will he think of her after watching that—?

“I know it’s not true.” Mingyu’s voice has turned serious, pulling away only to have her further pushing her face to his chest. “Do you have his number?”

Mind whirling, overheated, she hums. “I do, but I have it blocked.”

“Give it to me.”

“Mingyu—” Finally, she pulls away, bloodshot eyes staring up at him. “I’m tired of the problems around me. I’m absolutely done with people caring about my whereabouts and what I do. I don’t want more drama—”

“I just want to put him in his place.” Mingyu whispers, pushing her wet hair away from her face before breathing out a small: “Please?”

In the light of the pain caused, her lips are paralyzed, unable to connect her tongue to her mind in order to let some words out. Instead, she reaches for her phone, going through the contact list before seeing it:

Eo Hanseul (Do Not Respond).

Mingyu takes his own phone from her purse—he asked to have it there—, jotting down the numbers before bringing the device up to his ear. He gets out of the water, droplets following after his steps to be able to talk in private. Standing by the clear doors of the hallway, Hanseul seems to pick up his call, because his eyebrows furrow and he opens his mouth to speak.

Kim Mingyu doesn’t seem like the type of man to get angry, but he does that night.

Much of what he says is not understood, unable to disconnect her eyes from mixing the water of the pool with the waterfalls of her feelings, but Mingyu’s voice raises, speaks into the void when he says: “…I don’t care, man, you either grow some balls and start respecting her or you’ll have to have a talk with me.” Now, he seems much taller, buffer, as if his words may be able to deflate the softness of him. Rolling his tongue through his teeth, he hears to what the other man has to say, just as she’s getting out of the pool, only her calves pushed inside. “You think I’m some fool you can play with?”

Well, in comparison, Mingyu is much better than Hanseul. Less of a fighter, more of an empath. However, his Adam’s apple bobs up and down when he swallows, a frown taking over his features.

“You either take all the bullshit you’ve said back or I’ll make sure you pay for it, okay?!” Before Hanseul could retort, the man shakes his head. “I don’t know, release some statement, get your tongue up your ass, but you’ll never talk to her or about her ever again, understood?”

Then, the call comes to an end. Radio silence.

Mingyu puts his phone down, extending his arms just to say: “Come here.”

And she does cling to him, feeling his heartbeat against her eardrums as she cries someone else’s ignorance away.

Though, for Mingyu, the picture is different. “You’re more than whatever people judge you for. Don’t forget that.”

###

Act twenty-four. Twenty-fourth time performing the same character. The critics are getting worse.

Perhaps, it’s her fault. Seated on the wooden floor backstage, while wrapping her legs in bandages to be able to stand the aches, ignore the blossoming memories of the falls she has done while practicing, she sees the most destroyed person in the room staring at herself back in the mirror. Hyun looks way more tired than she did when they were practicing, curling her hand against her stomach—perhaps, suffering by the number of products she puts in her body to be able to keep herself energized—, eyes void of the glint of pertinence that had once coated them, bathed in shadows.

Once again, she takes another energy drink, and it’s about this time that she speaks out the certainty in the room. The one spoken secret that she whispers to herself at night. “I’m worried about you.”

Hyun stops at that moment, not even sparing her a glance, and the shutter of Mingyu’s camera comes to a halt when she finally outs the obvious. Hyun may not like her, but she was a fan of her before she even got here. Talented, she is, and her stomach must not be doing good by the number of energy drinks, caffeine and whatever else she has. Her stress is getting to her, cohabiting inside of her body.

The woman lifts her eyebrows, sucking her cheeks in when she says: “You don’t have to. I’ll be fine.”

“Even I’m not fine.” She confesses, standing up from the floor with wobbling legs. Too overworked. “Hyun, stop drinking this. If you aren’t sleeping or you can’t keep up, it’s okay. We’re here to help each other—”

When her hand comes forward to take the energy drink from her, Hyun pushes her body backwards, the anger in her features dissipating. “You don’t get it.”

“Of course, I do.” She says, only to have Hyun bitterly scoffing.

“Yeah, right.” She concludes, putting the can down before resting her slim hands on her hips. “If this musical keep going like it is, on its downfall, I won’t get any other chance to shine. I won’t get a starring role, and I will definitely see my dream die. You don’t go through that. You have a home to go to, and money to spend—”

An inexplicable feeling embargoes her. While Hyun had gained this position with hard work, a part of her existence there was just for publicity—and her mere presence is what is bringing the musical to its conclusion. “Hyun, I promise…you’re too talented to ever do shit wrong. You’ll get a chance when needed.”

“You don’t know that!” Hyun shouts, running her fingers through her hair before sighing. “Mind your business, okay? Stay out of my way, and stop playing the victim here. I’m fine. I just need to practice more.”

“Go home, Hyun.” She tries to reason, taking the woman by the forearms. “I know you hate my guts, and I would, too, if I were you…but please, just…rest for tonight. The show’s over. We can go home.”

“You do this because you don’t want me to practice so you can be better than me, huh?”

Shaking her head, she tries to reason with her. “I would never. Really. I’m over that.”

���Who are you kidding? Yourself or me?” Hyun questions, taking the filled energy-drink can before tossing it in the nearby trashcan. “Happy now?”

“Hyun—”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go home.”

Her body brushes against hers when passing by her, the clicking of her shoes a sound that she doesn’t want to ignore. Hyun, in that moment, becomes a heroine to her. Image of hardships and hard work, someone who would rather tire herself out than disappointing her vision of herself. Perhaps, she had judged everything wrongly, imagined herself to be this immaculate being that did not deserve to be hurt.

No one does. Hyun didn’t either.

Mingyu accompanies her outside, like he always does, ready to go out with her after another show. However, as the wind bites her arms under her dark denim jacket and the taxis pass by them, ready to be called by her, she feels his hand resting over her shoulder, turning around to look at him. Peaceful, yet worried.

Tugging at the sleeves of his pink sweater, the strands of his hair swirling against his forehead with the movement of the breezy night, Mingyu admits: “I think you need to drop out of this musical. Kaleigh does not care about any of you.”

That much she knows. The leader, the director, only cares about the image she wants to portray of the character, not about the actors that play them. Still, letting go would mean going back home…and back home, she’d go back to the same routine. “What if I don’t find another chance to be on the stage?”

Mingyu sighs. “You and Hyun aren’t so different after all.” The more she sees herself projected in that vanity backstage, the more she sees herself turning into Hyun. Though talented, a portion of herself will get lost down this path. The one that hopes for a happy ending. “Sometimes, we have to realize that what we dream of is not always going to be our reality. And this is not to tell you your dream is not valid, because it is, but the more you stay here…the more it will hurt you to leave. You deserve better than what Kaleigh is giving you, and even if you end up with a small role in some show, or get back on stage again…you’re still you.”

“Well, maybe I’m tired of being me.” She replies, letting her weight lean against the side of his body, his arm cradling her shoulders, eyes looking down at her while she connects her gaze with his, down to his lips.

“I like you.” Mingyu rasps out, though, if he knew where she lived…what she saw…what she knew about his past, would he still be open about those words? “Please, never stop being you.”

She thinks, at this moment in her life, she’ll never stop being his. Yours, she wants to tell him, even if this doesn’t work out, my soul will always be yours.

Though, she fears. What if he isn’t hers? Though he wasn’t hers at the beginning of it all, she kept seeking—

And now, mere centimeters away, with his lips parted, she has him. Breaths mingling when she softens her lips against his, drapes a silent confession that she can’t quite get out without feeling guilty. If he knew more about her, perhaps, he wouldn’t like her. The issues of not knowing how to differentiate what people perceive of her and what she perceives herself, but right now, as she’s with him, she likes who she is. Her truest version, delicate, not aching to feel more, to have more of him, just letting their lips meet softly, knowingly, as if she knows every portion of him and yet, to him, she’s only a shadow.

Her arm hooks around his neck, tilting her body to the side to taste more of him, relishing on his perfume, his hands, the way he always seems to make her feel unique, and not to outcast her, but to blend her into the groups of people that fall for each other. The romanticism that falls into monotony, but it’s oh-so-perfect in its own way.

“That’s my answer for you.” She replies when pulling away, awestruck brown eyes blinking back at her when she smiles.

I like you too, Mingyu.

###

When looking at Mingyu, she would have never believed their first official date would come in the shape of a rock concert. Much less would she have imagined that, upon entering Mingyu’s apartment, much smaller than the house he once shared with Yoona, he’d have collectables of memories that he doesn’t have the time to explain, rushing to get out the door and get to the concert. A local band that she has no idea about, but try their hardest to leave their imprint in this world.

Kissing in cars is how the date ends. In some taxi, with sneaky touches and stolen kisses that promise for a better night. Hazed in his smile, in the tight black shirt that clads his body and the way his big hand splays across her thigh, claiming a portion of her body as his. After a month, even more, of seeing each other, Mingyu feels closer than ever, seated on a portion of her heart as if it is his throne, and it may be. A King of Hearts, as she likes to call him.

The band t-shirt he had bought when getting out of the venue rests over her body, halfway pushed inside his jeans as she twists her head to the side and rests fleeting kisses on the side of his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs, a sharp intake of his breath coming with the tightening hold on her tight.

“Something you should know…” He starts, only to have her humming, teeth digging into the skin of his neck as she hums. “I—I’m not really patient, you know?” His voice wavers, enough to have her chuckling when she pulls away from him and rests a kiss on his shoulder.

“I’ve noticed. Quite childish if you ask me.”

“It’s hard to be patient when you’re around.” She looks at him from the corner of her eye, smiling.

“I’ll have to teach you how to wait, huh?”

Though, when Mingyu had gotten on that taxi, she had not thought about the address she gave. The taxi driver parks outside, thanked by Mingyu as he gives him counted bills and gets out of the yellow car. Much to her distaste, however, when she gets off as well, Mingyu is staring ahead at the white house that had once been shared with the love of his life—

Yoona.

The woman who almost married him.

The one person he had never talked about.

Mingyu opened up about a lot of portions of his live. Childhood. Cousins. Parents. Music. Photography. Collections. Love from teenage years, but Yoona was never touched. Never talked about. She never pushed it, knowing better than getting that information out of him, but when she stands by his side, watching his face turn somber, he softly asks:

“You live here?”

Warning signs appear inside her head, blaring red lights leaving her with no emergency exits. The line has cut short, no longer letting her lie to him in order to keep her secret intact. She knew him before he actually knew her, and she had thought of him as charming then. “Mingyu, yes. I didn’t want to tell you because—”

“Wait, why wouldn’t you want to tell me?” His face turns towards her, and she knows at that moment that she had fucked up. He had not assumed that she knew anything, only asked absentmindedly as memories flashed before his eyes. “Do you know something I don’t?”

She swallows thickly. She could lie to him, come up with lines and improvise, but Mingyu is one of those people that doesn’t deserve that. Instead, she tugs at the collar of the t-shirt on her body, sighing deeply. “Listen,” She starts. “When I got here, I found a box that said ‘throw away’ and it had a bunch of CD’s inside…”

Mingyu pulls back at that moment, shaking his head. “No—”

“And I watched them. You were in all of them with your ex…Yoona.” She whispers, looking over to the side, watching the house that had both introduced her to the person she feels like she is falling for, and that may take him away at that moment. “I didn’t want to pry, I swear. I just…I just did and I kept on watching because of you, and destiny did its thing and it brought us together at the bar, and with you as my musical’s photographer.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mingyu asks, and she comes up with nothing. Because she didn’t want for him to close up with her, of course. “You knew more about him than I knew about you, and you didn’t even think about giving those CD’s to me…or just…or just tell me that she had kept them there!”

“Well, I just didn’t want you to think I was stalking you or something. It was all a coincidence!” She replies, only to have Mingyu running his hands through his hair, chuckling at the sky before groaning deeply.

“That’s my privacy!”

“Well, it’s not like I knew it was private before!” She argues back, frowning at him. “Besides, why is it so deep for you? You know about Haseul, why does it matter if I know that you almost married Yoona? It’s not like I’m jealous of a woman of your past—”

“Because you have no idea how long it took me to get over her!” Mingyu replies, voice rising, chest heaving. Then, a pout takes over his features as he explains himself, retreating the tone of voice he had just taken up on.

“If you’d let me know what happened, maybe I could understand—”

“Turns out I had a toxic relationship. She wanted me to be her little puppet, make her fantasy come true of a perfect man, and a perfect family, and possibly a…I don’t know…a social media presence where we showed how perfect we are but…I’m not perfect.” He breathes out, biting his bottom lip as he looks at her. “Can you blame me for not wanting to remember all the turmoil I went through because of her?”

“You can just not talk about it if that’s the case. I don’t mind. But you can tell me about these things—” She entices. “I’m not going to judge you, Mingyu. Our pasts are there for a reason—”

“Don’t give me that.” Mingyu answers, smile lines intensified by the purse of his lips. “You always say you want to change your past, to start again, to not remember—”

“But my past and my mistakes made me meet you!” She exclaims. “I can’t turn back time and change things because, maybe, I wouldn’t have met you if that was the case. I like you, Mingyu, almost married or not. I like you for who you are and who you were.”

“If you liked me so much, you could’ve just told me.” Mingyu mumbles, blinking softly.

“…I was afraid, okay? I get to be afraid, too. Just as you were.”

Mingyu falls silent for a second, deep in thought, walking backwards as he says: “I—I just need some time, okay? I get you, but I need…I need to process this.”

She tries to go after him, shaking her head. “Mingyu, don’t do that. We have to talk about this. I didn’t mean to remind you of a bad time—”

“Just…burn that fucking box and…and I’ll talk to you about it later, okay?” Mingyu whispers out, goosebumps going up her arms when she watches him go. Never had she seen him so shattered, hands shaking as he remembers that one portion of his life he never wanted back.

He had seemed so in love.

And now, he can’t fall in love as easily.

Yet, a new beginning is necessary, so when she retreats to her home, she picks up a lighter, walking far down the street with the box in hand to light it up.

The past makes who they are, but it doesn’t define them. From now on, she is the only one that can decide her future, and so can Mingyu for his own life.

###

“Care to tell me why you ruined every single one of my pictures?”

Last show, but Kaleigh doesn’t know it. Just as she’s applying another layer of purple onto her eye, as if to indicate the bruises from her character, Mingyu speaks to her. Over one week of not talking to each other, texts going ignored, time asked whenever they meet, and she has met more than the middle of the situation. Now she wants to go forward, know more of him than of herself, movement more eccentric in order to fuck up his work.

If that’s what it takes to get his attention…

She shrugs her shoulders, patting the makeup sponge against her eye. If he doesn’t want to talk, she won’t talk either. “Just some new dance moves. I added some popping because the character felt like it needed it.” It’s utter bullshit, and the way Jaehyo snorts from his spot tells her that no one believes her. Even Hyun seems to chuckle at her antics, Mingyu’s lost expression mirrored in the vanity.

“Bullshit.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Kim, I don’t think you can talk to the cast like that.” She answers, mischief painted on her face when she connects her gaze with his through the mirror.

Scoffing, he says: “You didn’t think that when you ruined all my shots from yesterday’s night.”

The makeup sponge now rests against the table, her fingers interlocked as she talks to him through the mirror. Today, Mingyu props some pink sunglasses on his head, a leather jacket placed on top of a white t-shirt. “I’m sure they look fine, Mr. Kim. They always do.”

“They’re all blurry.”

“My apologies. You may have to take some pictures tonight, then.”

“…If you even let me. You’re moving around like you have pinworms.”

“Oh my God!” Sue says from her spot, elbows pressing to the back of her chair to be able to look at the scenery. “Is this a pre-marital issue?”

“I think so.” Jaehyo conquers, but she only throws a look at them.

“He’s the one that doesn’t want to talk to me.” She says, standing up from her spot to be in front of Mingyu, in all his glory, staring back at her with a stoic expression. “So…in order to get his attention, I had to find other ways to do it.”

Mingyu breathes out softly, staring around the room before wrapping his hand around her arm. “You want to talk? Let’s do it in private.”

The storage room in which they had met initially, memory of the umbrella that she hit against his head, now becomes the spot for them to meet in. Far more cramped than she remembers it for, with a tiny chair that Mingyu used to take up on to check his pictures. The man in question locks the reddened door behind him, giving one step forward and hence, ending up pressed to her body, hands placed on his own hips when he asks:

“You have something to say? Speak.”

Maybe, she had tried the worst of ways to get his attention. Annoyance, for once, is not something that pairs up with Mingyu’s face in most occasions. Yet, she finally gets to hear his voice. Angered. Cut short. Yet, unknowing of the reality that breathes through her pores.

“I’m sorry…for not telling you I had seen those videos. It was your privacy and I shouldn’t have looked, but after I did, I should’ve told you and given them to you to get rid of them. I did, but yeah…” Her voice falls into a softened tone, looking into his brown irises, down to his straight nose, a few speckles of facial hair on top of his lip, barely noticeable and those rose-colored lips that she has been missing for the past week. All of him, really, from his voice to his thoughts, to the impatience that takes over him. “Mingyu, I would never judge you for your past. Not when you weren’t the one at fault. We all make mistakes and I don’t think any less of you for being naïve enough to involve yourself in that situation. I like you with or without Yoona in your life. If you want to talk about it, I’ll accept it…if you don’t—”

“I want to talk about it.” Mingyu says, breathing out in a way that has the warmth of him touching her lips. His chest expands, flush against her breasts, when he explains his truth. “I met Yoona when I was seventeen. She was friends with Seungkwan, a friend of mine, and he got us in this blind date thingy because…I don’t know, I was bored, I wanted a date.” He shrugs, though his eyes show that he really cares. “So, we started a relationship…and we started living together soon enough. I didn’t care. I worked two jobs, all to be able to move from our apartment to a bigger house, and then she got other jobs…and we made it. She said she wanted to have a family soon, that she’d start recording us…whatever. You know that part.” His life seemed so much easier than what he described, but that’s just what the video-camera showed. “Turns out that she got out of all her jobs, expected me to pay for everything, and lived the most exotic of lifestyles. If I ever told her we couldn’t buy something, she’d take it out on me…” Mingyu sighs, shaking his head in the process. “We’d fight all the time, but I loved her, so I proposed. Turns out that it didn’t work, and I cut off the engagement the morning of our wedding.”

“As you should have…” She elongates, only to have Mingyu chuckling darkly.

“Yeah. I was reassured that it was a good decision when three days later she started dating a famous YouTube guy and she started vlogging for real.”

“I’m so sorry, Mingyu.” With all the sincerity she can muster, locked away in the depths of her heart only for him to see, she sighs. “…You deserve better.”

“I know I do.” He finalizes. Looking down at her lips before smiling softly. “Glad we sorted that out.”

“Sorted that out? I acted like a spoiled brat just to get your attention. I’m sorry for that, too—”

“Ah, don’t worry.” Mingyu replies, wrapping his arms around her waist before pressing her back to the wall. The dry paint clings to her clothing, rubs against it when his fingers rub against her skin over the fabric. “You always have my attention, even if you ruin my pictures in purpose just to get me to talk to you. I needed some time, that’s all.”

“Yeah…I’m so sorry.”

Mingyu doesn’t utter another word, lips conjoining in a smile before they rest over her own. Much of the like of the type of kisses they had shared in that taxi ride, hands folding the fabric of her clothing when he brings her clothing, breathing against her skin as he slowly takes over the kiss. His lips part, his left hand going down to his hips, towards her thigh before lifting it over, pulling their bodies closer when he settles himself between her legs, head turned to the side just as her fingers rake through his hair.

He doesn’t care. Doesn’t mind having his hair messy, his camera pushed away from his neck and put carefully to the side as she continues kissing him. Though, he does care about her, only pulling away to ask: “How many minutes you have until you go up the stage?”

Staring at the clock on the wall, she breathes against his lips. “Like thirty minutes.”

“May I…?” Mingyu asks, eyes joining desire with worry, pressing his hips forward, abdomen contracting when her hand caresses his jaw, touches his neck and lets her thumb rub over the column of his throat.

“…Of course, Mingyu.”

It’s not the most romantic of places, but it happens with a soul she doesn’t want to exchange. For once, his name becomes a poem, and she will never find a rhyme better than him.

###

Two set of judgmental eyes watch her as she slides the folded piece of paper in her hands towards Kaleigh. Always sporting an all-black outfit, those glasses that hide the malice in her gaze, and before her lips could part to utter one of her simplistic sentences, she bathes on the glow of getting out of her last show. Of trying her best, and yet, not having the best outcome.

“It’s over.” She says, sighing deeply with joined lips as she rests her hands in the depths of her jeans’ pockets. “I don’t want to be part of this musical anymore. Thank you for the opportunity, but I feel as though I don’t fit this team…or your vision of me, whatsoever.”

There, while the rest of the team are taking off their makeups, getting rid of their clothing, children bustling around, overexcited from the sceneries, Kaleigh is speechless. Hyun, on one hand, steps forward, eyes widened.

“She can’t leave.” Turning to her, she shakes her head. “You can’t leave, you’re one of the main characters.”

“I don’t think I will continue down a path of happiness if I stay here. My mental health comes first, and Kaleigh can’t bring me that as a director.” She adds, pointing at the paper in between Kaleigh’s hands, still unopened. “Right there, you can see my resignation letter. I don’t want to be part of this team anymore, and Kaleigh can choose to talk badly about me as an actress if she so pleases.”

Kaleigh scoffs from her spot, nodding at what she says. “Of course, I will. How unprofessional do you have to be to leave the musical like this?”

What hurts her the most is leaving her cast. Leaving her character, ever, that wants to give out such an important message about the reality people live. Instead, she has to let go. Better opportunities will come for a dream that is not yet set in stone. “Very. But I think it’s the best decision.” Pushing herself away from the situation, she starts walking away from the stage. Her home, really, but one that will fall to shambles if she doesn’t leave now.

She doesn’t expect to hear someone’s voice then. “We need you.” Mixed with her name, Hyun speaks. The woman that hates her the most, yet, when turning around, seems to look at her with a plea in her brown eyes. She smiles, because Hyun deserves it. The woman is given, that much she can say.

“You don’t.” She answers, sighing deeply. “The stage needs you, but it doesn’t need me. As long as you keep this story alive, I can be replaced. That, you don’t have to worry about—”

“But you won the audition—”

“No, it was given to me.” Truthfully, the more she thought about it, the more she realized Kaleigh never wanted her there for her talent. “And I don’t want to be there for publicity. I don’t need that pressure on me. So, the real talent should stay.”

With that, she turns around, giving the last few steps until the coldness of the night bites at her skin.

Seated on the sidewalk, Mingyu rummages through his phone, unaware of her presence as he listens to music with his earphones plugged in. The cars pass by, gray concrete matching his dark outfit. Just a few hours earlier, she had seen him without him, but not sedated yet, she kneels until she is hugging him from behind, pressing a kiss to his cheek and humming in delight at the heat of his body.

Not hers. A person can’t be hers. And though he isn’t hers, she doesn’t mind it.

Mingyu takes off one of his earphones, turning around to look at her and asking a silent question with his eyes.

“What?” She puzzles, only to have Mingyu widening his eyes.

“How did it go?”

“Badly. It hurts.” Her heart aches at the idea of not getting another chance, giving all her might into acting tonight…and perhaps, the only night that she will get to act again. “But it’s what I had to do. I’m going to find a better opportunity later on.”

His smile widens, leaning forward to steal a kiss from her lips before joining his free hand with the ones conjoined over his stomach. “I’m so proud of you.”

“If you’re so proud, let me invite you to dinner.” Standing up, she watches as he follows after her steps.

“Let me pay for once!” He whines, only to see her shaking her head.

“Nope. I’m your designated sugar mommy.”

“You’re totally not.” Mingyu denies, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

“Come on, let me live the dream.”

Though, hers will remain paused for now…until a better chance comes about. A real one, perhaps.

###

Bad news always come like a train-wreck. Life is silent for a second, too eerily silent, and the moment she opens her eyes, everything is shattered. This time around, it wasn’t any different. Seated on the counter, Mingyu working on making a set of pancakes, taking his precious time on heating them to utter perfection, she doesn’t think anything when turning on her phone. If anything, she is staring forward, at the way Mingyu’s back muscles contract with the movements of his arms.

Kim Mingyu has this magic of appearing in someone’s life and never giving the person the benefit of asking themselves if they want him to leave. She doesn’t, and that’s factual. A little above a month after she left her job at the musical, she has tried to avoid all contact with everyone from her cast—from Jaehyo to Sue, obviously with Hyun, trying her hardest to show to her family and friends back at home that she can stay here and fulfill a dream. So far, nothing has worked.

But Mingyu has.

Not spoken into the night but fallen into place, Mingyu spends more time at her place than he does on his, giving a piece of his heart to her, while he has all of hers. With each passing day, the comfort of him becomes the sunlight of her days, though the clouds seem to gather in her personal life. Mingyu finds gigs, but the tabloids have forgotten about her after the viral video of her past relationship.

This time around, the headlines in her phone—from the notifications of her favorite magazine—inform her something more.

Han Hyun dies while practicing for new musical. Doctors confirm gastrointestinal bleeding.

When standing up, the chair falls behind her. Fear. Petrification. Perhaps, regret. Hyun had so much life within her—a pulsating need to be the best, and she was. Then, stress took up all of her life. So young, yet now not existing in the same world as them.

The room seems to rotate by the time Mingyu speaks her name into the dense air. “Hey, what happened?” He moves towards her, but she gives a few steps back, uttering the words that hurt her just by hearing them.

“Hyun died.”

One never really thinks about an enemy dying. A rival, really. The fear starts to become palpable when people think of their loved ones dying, but when it comes to someone that they can’t stand…it almost seems favorable. To have them away from this world. Yet, she can’t even utter another word, entering her room and throwing herself into the bed. The sheets are crumpled between her palms, tears blinding her vision as she thinks of all the times, she bumped hands with Hyun.

She was so talented.

It almost felt like she had to take care of her. Each and every single time she told her to mind her own business, she never did.

The door opens softly, her name called once again, though she doesn’t want to listen. Never has she liked Mingyu seeing her crying, but at this point, when he rests his weight next to her on the bed, his elbow resting adjacent to her body as he horizontally leans his weight on her back, she can’t help but let out a little weep.

“Hey…” His fingers trail down her spine, speaking softly. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” She turns around, hair done a mess as she stares into his eyes, trying to stop the hiccups that shake her frame. “She had so much to give, and look at what happened to her. I couldn’t even—I don’t know, say goodbye to her?”

“You don’t have to think about what you didn’t do.” Mingyu replies after a few seconds of silence, bringing his body forward until he is hovering over her, kissing the tears away before pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “…You can only think about what you’re going to do now. Not take people for granted. Get to know people better. Avoid rivalries. That’s all you can do.”

Staring up at him, she realizes one thing. One day, we’re here, the other, we’re not. We don’t belong to anyone—not even ourselves—, but to the world instead. Life plays with us like marionettes, puts us in places that we think we can never get out of, but the road ahead is so much more surprising. Living in a labyrinth, looking for people who understood her, new beginnings and thrilling stories, she found someone. A person that she doesn’t want to lose, and someone whom hasn’t heard the truth. The full and heart-wrenching truth.

Because Mingyu is there. Belongs to the universe, and never to her. One day, anything could happen. He could get tired, bored, could simply move on and call it quits. He could come home one day and say that he doesn’t want to be with her anymore. But now, as his sleepy gaze stares at her with worry, she realizes that she doesn’t want him to belong to her. She wants to be with him. Aches and desires to spill her truth out and enjoy him for the time that life plants him there for her to enjoy.

May the flowers bloom of the seeds her words leave. They could die, but they will get to grow first.

“…I have to tell you something. Before it’s too late to actually say it…” She mumbles, rubbing her eyes and her nose, sniffling softly before looking into his eyes. There has always been this understanding in him, even when he doesn’t always say the proper thing—as if he knows, deep within him, that they understand each other. That no matter how many times mistakes settle on their hearts, they know their deepest intentions. “It may be too soon for you and I know I said I’d wait until you’re ready but—”

“I love you.” He says it first, aware, not shying away, savoring the taste on the roof of his mouth before stealing another kiss away from her lips. “I don’t want to wait. Good things can’t wait.”

He always said he wasn’t the most patient, but perhaps, she was the one that would wait a thousand years just to have him.

There is not an exact reason that she can think of as to why he would love her. Why, out of all things, Mingyu would open up his heart again—and why she does, too. They have been broken, but they grew two new, stronger hearts. Not fixing the old ones, but helping each other craft a new organ. One where he made a home for her, and she has made a throne for him.

“I love you and I want you to know that I’m here for you. For anything. Whatever you need me for.” He breathes out, rubbing his fingers on her cheek before looking down at her. “…If it wasn’t that what you were going to tell me, I’m sorry. Again, my second name is dumbass so—”

“I love you, too, Mingyu.” She tries to chuckle through the tears, though her bottom lip pouts out and Mingyu sighs deeply, wrapping his arms around her and relishing her with a kiss.

Though love is not perfect, it’s much better to meet in the middle. Two people who will either end up together forever, or for whatever long ever decides to stay. Never can be an option, too, but she knows that whatever the outcome is, Mingyu is the one portion of her past that she would never want to forget.

And it’s time for her to learn that the hours of the life clock are ticking, and she wants to spend all of them with him.

#mingyu scenarios #mingyu #seventeen scenarios #seventeen #kpop scenarios #writing #seventeen au #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #mingyu au #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #photographer!au #musical actress!Au #this is such a slowburn fic like lord help me #also i've had this idea since last year and didn't know who to write it for but #mingyu seemed fitting so #here goes

[mrspillow]

Sorry (Jellal Fernandes x Reader)

"Hmm... strawberry cake..."

Suppressing a small laugh you turned your head to Erza, your best friend of childhood days that never seemed to miss the opportunity of shoving cake into her mouth.

You had seen the amounts of baked goods the redhead could swallow within minutes, not even speaking of hours, but when it came to strawberry cakes, it turned ridiculous.

"I do not know how you aren't fat already, Erza", you mused and put your chin onto your palm, still watching that food orgy of hers "But I guess that's okay, Ichiya likes your body just the way you are."

Even though she was wearing armor, you could see the shivers running down her spine and her face growing blue as she choked on that cake.

"Stop that", she didn't like being teased with a matter as serious as Ichiya, not even by you "You know exactly he gives me the chills every time."

You shrugged and turned back to the field inside of the Domus Flau arena in Krokus, watching the pair of wizards fight it out. Although you were no part of a guild, you were busy cheering on for Fairy Tail whenever they entered the field.

Yeah, sure, there were shouts of boos and the mocking of the other guilds but with Erza alone, they couldn't be any worse than the best.

You just knew it.

Even when the both of you were just kids and surely no force to reckon with, she wasn't just a surprisingly powerful mage but also kind and caring for those in her family. She was everything that made you change minds back then and you couldn't have been more grateful. It was only then that you realized just what exactly it was that you were doing and you felt so dirty the moment it became clear as day.

You snapped out of your stupor before it became obvious you were lightyears away and focused on the matches ahead of you.

Snatching the list from Gray's hands (who was too absorbed into fighting off Juvia - as always) to take a glimpse at the letters, you let out a sigh of defeat.

"Can I have a piece too?"

Just as you felt your eyes sliding shut, Natsu bumped into you, nearly making you fall over the handrails but at least, you were awake now.

"Is it finally over?" you leaned back and let out a yawn "Thank God!"

After all, you weren't that much into stuff like tournaments, Fairy Tail was basically the only reason for you to come into this cave of pent-up masses.

Nobody answered you, either tired as well or already on their way through the door and out of the arena, back to their sweet sweet home. You got up quickly and grabbed Erza (still next to you but with a very empty plate - you could only guess Mira had sacrificed her even more cakes) to get out.

It was just then that you noticed how far the sun has gone westwards making you suppress another yawn that made its way up. You got to go to bed soon enough anyway so no need to rush.

The way back out was surprisingly swift and without running into any hostile guilds (lucky you). So you were out before Natsu broke something or bumped into somebody.

"Let's go grab something to eat, (Y/N)? You coming?", you heard Gray's voice from behind you, making you turn around and give him a bright smile - only to decline.

"I'd love to, really, but there is that thing I need to get done yet. Don't worry, I'll be back soon, just start without me.", your voice was sweet enough that you nearly even betrayed yourself, if it hadn't been for that tiny tiny voice in your head.

Why don't you just tell them?

But you brushed it off without a second thought, no need to worry your friends about your self-made worries and troubles.

"Okay...", Erza didn't seem as convinced as you would've liked "You sure?"

A simple nod was enough to soothe her and so, you made your way back into town, taking a stroll through the streets devoid of people or friends. You were alone with your thoughts and the memories that came with them.

You sighed making eye contact with the horizon to take in the way the sun was drowning beneath these parts of bustling streets and places.

You hadn't missed the silence that came with the night for you had heard it over and over again in those sleepless nights.

It shamed you to this day that you hadn't noticed the way he was using you, cocooning you in soft and sweet words to make your finger bleed from hard work and your skin shining from the sweat and tears spilled for him. The worst part of it all was that damned silent voice within you, asking again and again if what you were doing was right.

How could you build weapons of mass destruction meant for thousands with a straight face?

How dared you think sacrificing people to a black wizard could be a way to achieve paradise?

How did you fail to notice that you would never be able to sleep after you were so willing to make these sacrifices more for him than for Zeref after all?

Who knew.

Did I know?

You wondered for years if maybe, just maybe, you had known what you were doing. You probably weren't even able to throw the cloak of ignorance over your shoulders to save yourself from the cold feeling of guilt.

Shame, shame on you.

You hated the way he made you feel so far away from everything like he had built a place away from the wars and the screams of the world, simply made for the two of you.

And again, you failed to notice how it was only the mist caught in between your fingers.

"(Y/N)?"

At first, you thought it was only the back of your mind, playing tricks on you by reviving past days and voices. But after some seconds, you had noticed the silhouette nearby and wondered if you had heard his voice.

Maybe you were going crazy.

At first, you noticed the dark blue hair, sticking out to spite the cloak it was put under, then that tattoo you would notice everywhere.

Jellal Fernandes.

Surprisingly enough, your panicking mind took it upon itself to react, stumping you with the bright - borderline hysterical - laugh that came out of your mouth.

You just couldn't help it. The way he appeared after decades with nothing to say but your name just about the moment you had wallowed in self-hate and guilt was just ridiculous.

Jellal stood quiet, not even his face gave away whatever irritated look he might have had, giving your laugh an untimely end. And that was just about what you needed to come back to your right set of mind.

"What are you doing here?" You didn't bother the biting hate in your voice or the way his shoulders slumped from your tone.

"I came because Erza told me you would be here.", he started when he had straightened again "She said it wouldn't be a good idea but I came because I wanted to speak to you."

You didn't trust the way this man looked so sad. You couldn't.

Not even enough to sit next to him when he scuffled over to the next bench and gestured for you to take a seat.

Not ever, not in a thousand years would you take that seat.

So you stood like a tree, unmoving and unwavering in your place, staring at him and ready to defend yourself by any means.

Would he try anything funny?

From the way, you knew him back then? Definitely.

Surprisingly though, he didn't try to press you into sitting down, instead starting to talk about whatever it was that lead him back to you.

"It took me a very long time to properly realize what had happened in the Tower of Heaven" he started "I did things in there that I never remembered to have said or done, horrible things. And when I remembered, it was like watching through the glass as someone else moved my body."

For the blink of an eye, his hand hovered over his head before he opted to pull down his hood and revealed the dark blue hair. Jellal sighed before he put his face in his hands for a few moments as if he was trying to get ahold of his last pieces of sanity.

"And when I understood what I had done, I felt so, so guilty. I tried to sacrifice hundreds - no, thousands of people, I manipulated you, Milliana, and the others to work for my cause. The worst of it all was the way I led you to believe in the lies I told you over and over again. I remember that look of adoration in your eyes and I misused it for these terrifying things."

The way he spoke of these sins the two of you committed so easily made you relive the shame of it over and over again. It was like your mind couldn't stop.

"I need to atone for these sins, for the things I did to you, and I wanted to start by telling you how sorry I am for the way I treated you and led you into believing these tales.

I do not ask for you to forgive me or to see beyond that, I came here to apologize because that is what you deserve."

For the first time since he started talking, he looked into your eyes as if waiting for your response and your mind came to an abrupt halt.

What exactly was it what you were feeling?

Hate?

Sadness?

Anger?

...No.

For the first time in forever, you could sympathize with him - that person who you had thought of as a monster for much longer than you wanted to admit. He had been taken advantage of and used to do whatever malicious things asked of him. He did not have a choice.

What did he feel like when he discovered how many people had been suffering under him? Was it sorrow? Betrayal? Shock? Or even anger?

And only when you were ready to answer was it that you too were looking into these dark eyes.

"I remember every damn word you spoke whenever you looked at me so fondly and I remember how you laughed at me for even believing in your farce. " you didn't try to cover up the bitterness sneaking in when you recalled your heart break into pieces just like that.

"And now that you are sitting in front of me, asking for forgiveness, I don't even feel the hate anymore." it had stilled to numbness in your heart, always there, but only with that hollow feeling, never leaving.

"I cannot forget", you further explained feeling unshed tears prick in your eyes "My memories have become a part of me and they will never leave again. A Sorry won't fix everything."

By then, two or three tears escaped over your face before you could wipe them away, not escaping Jellals gaze.

He turned to look at the ground for a few seconds, then he moved off the bench and cast a sad smile at you, only to walk away from you as if that was his clue to disappear back into the night.

Only when you understood where he going, you set into motion, reaching out for his hand.

"But..."

The blue-haired male revolved when he felt your hand in his, soft as in those memories he still held close. His eyes became wide at the side of your tearing and red eyes, paired with that tiny, hopeful smile directed at him.

"But... I won't give up on you."

His mouth carved up to mirror your smile as he squeezed your hand just like sunlight kissing your skin.

#fairy tail #jellal fernandes #jellal #jellal x reader #x reader #anime #writing #crime sorciere #reader insert #(y/n) #imagine

[plus-size-reader]

Blood pt.4

Stiles Stilinski x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2589 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: The pack finally gets to meet this mystery girl of Stiles’ but that glaring secret of theirs just keeps causing problems. 

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 

—————————————————————————————————

The table fell silent as you walked up to it, every single one of their attentions poised on you as if you were the most interesting thing they had ever seen in their entire lives. 

You hated it. 

For obvious reasons, werewolves made you really uncomfortable and as much as you wanted to trust that Stiles knew his friends well enough to know they weren’t going to freak out and rip you apart, you weren’t sure. 

You didn’t like them. 

Though, as Stiles became more and more aware of the fact that you were dragging your feet, his grasp on your hand tightened to help you remember that you weren’t completely alone.

“I’m going to be here the whole time, just relax” he prompted, hoping that his words were going to be enough to make you feel better about this whole thing while also knowing that wasn’t going to be. 

This was something you never wanted to do in your life, but if you wanted to live your life here, you’d have to do it. You had to find out if what he said about them was true, so that you knew that you could stay. 

It sucked. 

The only thing that made you feel any better about this situation was seeing how well your act had worked on Scott this morning. If you kept it up like that, there was a chance that they would never know what you were at all. 

Maybe you could just keep it a secret from them forever. 

You had done crazier things. 

By the time the two of you made it to the table, the entire group had shared knowing looks, shocked that the tall tale Scott had weaved about what he’d seen this morning wasn’t all one big lie. It just wasn’t something they ever thought would happen.

“Hey, there they are. I was worried you were playing hookie today” Scott grinned, addressing his words to his best friend, who only shrugged at his words. 

Not showing up at all today would have been a better idea, all things considered, but you’d have to answer the questions at some point. 

It was much better to just get it over with. 

“Could you blame me?” Stiles jokes, sitting down beside Scott at the table, taking you with him. You were stiff as you sat down, doing your best to stick in your own little bubble without drawing too much attention to yourself. 

Unfortunately, that was basically impossible given the circumstances. 

The two of them shared a laugh before Scott addressed a question to you, one that you missed completely because you were still trying to come to terms with the situation you had found yourself in. There was just too much going on at once, and you couldn’t help but be a little overwhelmed. 

You weren’t designed for this, after all. 

You should have never been afraid of anything, or had to answer to anyone but that had gone out the window when you decided to attach yourself to a teenage boy who was involved with a pack of werewolves. 

Just your luck. 

“Y/N, honey. You okay?” Stiles hummed, obviously addressing you that way for their benefit. Scott had asked you a point blank question and while he was well aware of what was going on with you, they weren’t. 

You had to get a handle on this. 

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just a lot at once” you shrugged, plastering that bubbly grin on your face that made you feel as though your cheeks could crack in two at any moment. It wasn't natural for you, but as you had previously decided, it was natural for this girl Stiles was dating. 

This girl that you were pretending to be. 

“It’s okay. We’re all friends. We’re just a little shocked at the news is all” Scott allowed, smiling at you in a way that was surprisingly genuine. It wasn’t like the werewolves you remembered from all those years ago, that were made up mostly of gnashing teeth and threats of violence. 

He didn’t look like he could hurt anything, or anyone, even if he wanted to. 

“Stiles didn’t tell you, did he? He can be so goofy sometimes” you laughed, bumping the male in question with your shoulder. The action was surprisingly natural for you, and Stiles reacted naturally as well. 

Pretending to be a couple was the easiest part of this whole thing, for both of you. 

It was real life that you were struggling with. 

“I just didn’t know how” Stiles decided, moving your two hands, that were still interlocked, onto the tabletop. It was a blatant display of the relationship the two of you were supposed to share, but you didn’t mind it. 

The more they focused on the show you were putting on, the less they could pay attention to you.

“Come on. Tell us more about it, how did you two meet?” another in the group, a redhead, prompted. She had a cheery demeanor, with eyes that held an intellect that you could have seen shining there a mile away. 

She wasn’t a wolf, but she stank like one just like Stiles did, that much you could tell. Of course, she wasn’t human either, but based on what you could get from her alone, you had no clue what sort of creature she was. 

“We sort of just ran into each other, and went to get a bite” you shrugged, not even bothering to hide the clever little nod to how you really met within your answer. 

If nothing else, knowing something they didn’t made this a little more entertaining. 

It was hardly the meet-cute that Lydia had been hoping for, but that didn’t mean she didn’t accept the answer you gave her. After all, it was clear that Stiles really had a thing for you and as long as he liked you, she liked you too. 

Contrary to what you would have thought, she wasn’t as tough a critic as Scott seemed to be. He just wanted to figure out what was going on right now, 

Stiles had never once had a girl over like that, and every time he’d ever gotten close, Scott knew about it. Sometimes, Stiles stopped talking to a girl to call him in the moment and let him know that he had talked to a cute girl. 

He just had to make sure you were legit. 

That was literally his whole job as his best friend. 

“So, you go to school here Y/N? I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before” he questioned, offering another comforting smile to you which you couldn't help but be a little tired of. Every time you looked at him, all you saw was your coven, torn apart and left for dead.

It was really putting a damper on this whole conversation. 

“I used to live here actually, a while ago, and now I’m moving back. I actually enrolled when I got here, but it's been a little difficult getting used to being back” you shrugged, not totally lying this time. 

Being around this many people, any number of whom could have walked in on you that day instead of Stiles, was hard to wrap your head around. You were so used to being alone; travelling alone, living alone. 

You were always alone. 

...But you had to do something, and if you wanted to stick around here for a little while, you knew that you had to build a life for yourself. 

“She’s gonna stay with me for a little bit while her folks get settled” he allowed, hoping that at some point, the intense line of questioning would come to an end. Even if you were just a girl he was seeing like they believed, this was a bit much. 

He’d never had this many questions for someone Scott was dating. 

Though, Stiles knew that it was just his friend's curiosity that was driving him. There is no malicious intent or suspicion behind it, that you would likely want to read into it later when it was just the two of you alone. 

This was just how Scott was sometimes. 

“Well, it’s good you two have each other then”

You expected more, more questions or pointed looks in your direction but the group seemed content with the backstory they had been given, at least for now. The more direct questions he had, Scott was just going to ask Stiles when they were alone. 

It would be easier that way, so that he didn’t make you super uncomfortable. 

There was definitely still something about the relationship you two shared that Scott didn’t fully understand but eventually, he came to the same conclusion that Lydia had. It was clear that the two of you liked each other, and for now, that was good enough for him. 

It had to be. 

After all, he had no reason to assume there was something wrong with you. You had only just met and deciding things like that took time. 

~

“They hate me” you decided, plopping down on Stiles’ bed as if you owned it. On the outside, your meeting them had gone fine but you just had this bad feeling about it. You hadn’t sold it hard enough, or maybe you had sold it too hard. 

In any case, it seemed clear to you that they were never going to like you. Just the way Scott looked at you told you everything you needed to know. 

They didn’t trust you, and they never would 

You were an idiot to think that you would just be accepted here, like you belonged. 

“What are you talking about? They loved you. You were great” he hummed, really not seeing where this was coming from. His friends had no reason not to like you, just like his dad was going to have no reason not to like you. 

This was all going to be just fine. 

All you had to do was trust him. 

“I’m not supposed to have to do any of this. I’ve lived lifetimes, and never had to worry about something so trivial” you grumbled, your voice muffled by the pillows and blankets of his bed, which you were still face down on. 

You didn’t want to do this, to pretend to be something you weren’t just so that you could live here but now that you were potentially in danger, you had to. 

You had to keep this up until Stiles found a way to tell Scott what you really were and even after he did, there was a chance it wouldn't go well and you'd still have to leave. There was just too much that was up in the air for you to relax. 

This wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Still, before Stiles could really get a chance to comfort you over the whole thing, your attention snapped up at the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. This time, it wasn’t accompanied by the terrible stench of dog, which meant it wasn’t Scott. 

Sheriff Stilinski must have been home. 

“Okay, this dinner is going to be a lot easier than at school. You just have to let me handle it” Stiles prompted, sure that you would be able to handle that much. If you could sit at a table full of werewolves, his dad wasn’t going to be a problem. 

In fact, he had every confidence that tonight was going to go perfectly because Noah was so easy going.

Stiles was a good kid, he did as he was told and never got into too much trouble, if you didn’t count all the supernatural business. If the most he needed to do was have a girl stay at the house for a while, he doubted his dad would mind. 

It wasn’t like he was home too often anyway. 

You nodded, not bothering to tell him that you were pretty sure you’d decided to just let him handle everything from now on and stood up, doing your best to keep calm. Though, as it seemed to be doing a lot lately, something went wrong. 

You couldn’t have dinner with his dad. 

Not only did you not eat, and wouldn’t be eating but as far as food was concerned, you were also starving. You didn’t have to feed super often but with all this stress lately, your system had just blown through the little bit of blood you’d had yesterday. 

If you didn’t get something in you soon, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“Um, Stiles? Did you say dinner?” you clarified, though your comment served more as another gentle reminder that you weren't’ like he was. The male seemed to keep forgetting that you weren’t human like him, and that you couldn’t do the same things. 

You had other things you needed to attend to, like the hunger gnawing at your system as you spoke. 

“Oh, yeah-okay, change of plans. I’m going to have dinner with my dad and you’re going to stay here and lay low” he suggested, not really liking the idea of leaving you out. However, that was quickly remedied by the fact that you wouldn't have wanted to partake anyway. 

As much as you had enjoyed a nice hot meal when you were human, you weren’t anymore and you preferred to get your meals from a different source. 

“That sounds great, but what am I supposed to do about my dinner?” you asked, trying to be subtle about what you were going to have to do. There were some things about harboring a vampire in your home that weren’t pretty, and this was one of them. 

...but as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t just starve so that he would be more comfortable. 

He had to figure something out, or else you would have a repeat of the event that got you here in the first place, and you were pretty sure he didn’t want to deal with that again. You got blood everywhere when you did that. 

Besides, keeping you fed was in his best interest, considering you live in very close quarters with him now. 

“I’ll take care of it” he promised, pressing a kiss to your forehead and heading out before he could even think about what it was that he’d done. His glaring feelings for you could wait, because he had something much more important to take care of first. 

Thankfully, Stiles did have an idea. 

If his best friend didn't ask too many questions, there was a way that he could get some blood for you without having to hurt, or even involve, another person. He just had to hope that Scott was willing to help him. 

It was really a long shot, at this point. 

“Hey Scott, buddy. When you get this message, I need a favor” he prompted, speaking as plainly as he could into his phone and leaving a voicemail for Scott that he could only hope the other male would get and be able to be cool about. 

After all, what he was asking wasn’t exactly a normal thing best friends asked of each other, even when one of them was a werewolf. 

It was definitely going to come with a few questions. 

Stiles just had to hope that would be lucky enough to be able to lie his way out of those. He had been doing that an awful lot lately, but in his defense, he had a promise to keep.

#stiles #stiles stilinski #tw #teen wolf #mieczyslaw stiles stilinski #mieczyslaw stilinski #stiles x reader #stiles x ps reader #stiles x plus size reader #stiles imagine #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x ps reader #stiles stilinski x plus size reader #stiles stilinski imagine #tw x reader #tw x ps reader #tw x plus size reader #tw imagine #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf x ps reader #teen wolf x plus size reader #teen wolf imagine

[inkmemes]

this  country  (  2017  -  2020  )  sentence  starters ↪  taken  from  the  bbc  mockumentary.  trigger  warning  for  mentions  of  religion,  death,  sex.  alter  as  you  see  fit  ♡

“i like the underdog.”

“don't be a fucking dick.”

“everyone comes together on days like today and just forgets their utter hatred of each other.”

“everyone who's anyone's going to be there and there are people from my past that would love to see me slain.”

“there's a tea rooms there and under the counter they've got a panic button and if i take one step inside, they can press that. the police will be there in three minutes.”

"he whatsapped me the other day asking us to go laser quest with him and i ... well, i clicked on it by accident, didn't i? so he knows i've seen it."

"i mean, i get it, but it's not making me feel nothing."

“it's baffling. i'm baffled by the entire situation, if i'm honest.”

“what the actual fuck? what the actual fuck? you have fucking lost your head, mate. you have lost your fucking head.”

“when i get hold of you, i swear to god i will fucking deck you.”

"someone's just been throwing plums at my house. i'm going to kill them. i can't believe it. i can't believe it. all over this. plumming on here, plumming on that. plum on the sofa, look! there's nothing left that hasn't been plummed."

“i've had a target on my back since the day i was born.”

“thank you very much, enjoy your free potatoes.”

“do you know how small your brain is?”

“hogwarts is that way, dumbledore.”

“he used to say i looked like the puppet off the dolmio advert.”

“there's a kid crying over there. do you want me to...? i can tell him to shut the fuck up if you want?”

“he genuinely looked like a moomin.”

“on my first day of karate club, karate master goes to me, [name], i don't know why you're here because i can't teach you anything. if anything, you should be teaching me." and just gave me his black belt.”

“you know that little old blind man? yeah, when i was punching him in his face, the lens from his glasses broke and cut my knuckle.”

“some things are just best left in the past, where they belong.”

“what's the point in knocking if you're just going to walk in anyway?”

“it was a miscarriage of justice though, cos what people forget is 12 out of them 20 hostages actually found it funny.”

“i lied so much i still don't know what's real life and what's plain lies.”

“i'm so glad you're out of that lying phase.”

“he likes to be the only person on the road, so whenever he sees a car coming the other way he just pulls over.”

“nasa went through hundreds of them in the '60s. and now every time i see a really bright star in the sky i can't wish on it, cos in my head i'm thinking, ‘that's probably just a spacecraft with some monkey bones in it.’”

“you absolute traitor. that's my cheese - it's my fucking house!”

“don't you dare eat that cheese. you eat that and i will smash this. i promise you, i will smash you with this.”

“fuck! you switched them!”

“yeah, i can see it's fucking burnt, sherlock.”

“i honestly am ashamed to know him, sometimes.”

“if you knock on someone's door, don't take no for an answer. get into their house. if they say, ‘leave my house’, stay. and if they say, ‘i'm going to call the police’, you walk upstairs and see if there's anybody else upstairs to sell to.”

“she looks like uncle fester.”

“right. i'm going to piss in their flowers, then.”

“you really need to go home. your mum's called the police and everything.”

“you're also fired from being my best mate, by the way.”

“in business, there will always be setbacks. i don't drink my own juice, fray bentos doesn't eat his own pies. but that's business.”

“do you know what, i don't actually want to play this any more, because it is actually very, very boring.”

“i'm ashamed of myself, that's not usually me, so don't get the wrong impression.”

“i genuinely think one of them fancies me as well.”

“it's fate her moving across the street.”

“the problem with finding a girlfriend in the village is that most of the girls you meet round here are old-age pensioners.”

“yeah, i am looking for a relationship, but thing is i've just got so many trust issues, yeah, with being fucked over massive in the past, so no matter how much i get close to someone now i'm thinking in the back of my head, ‘shit, am i going to get fucked over?’ because i've been fucked over in the past massively. my last relationship proper fucked me up.”

“i went through a really dark phase. listening to papa roach and just blowing everything up with them little french bangers.”

“shut up, you don't know what you're talking about!”

“i don't like the man. i know he's my uncle, but i don't like him.”

“it's just malicious lies, that's all it is.”

“i'm not saying i've got a cruel heart, but if she ain't willing to take me as i am rather than the monster i've become, then she can literally just jog on back to sea with all the other fish cos i don't care.”

“what do you look for in a boyfriend?”

“the key to dating, yeah, is the two rs and the three ts. 'respect, rapport, and talking, talking, talking.' don't ever let that ball hit the ground. good relationships are built on great conversation.”

“on a date, you've got to tell them all the interesting stuff about you, because that's what they'll be interested in.”

“he said to me, he goes, ‘you can't smoke on here.’ i said, ‘i'm not smoking, i'm vaping.’ the look on his face when i said that. i don't think he knew what vaping… what a vape is.”

“you would make me the happiest mouse if you say yes and become my spouse.”

“here's a tip, [name], next time you take a chick out on a date, don't bore her to tears.”

“roses are red, violets are blue, i've got five fingers, the third one's for you.”

“get out of my way, pipe cleaner.”

“[name] phoned me the other day at three in the morning saying, ‘come quick,

there's a hedgehog in the garden that looks exactly like grandad.’ so i got up, i got dressed and i ran over to [name]'s as fast as i could and then i just stopped in the middle of the street at three in the morning and thought, ‘what the fuck am i doing with my life?’

“you're joking me? because if you are joking me, that is massively harsh.”

“oh, let me get a song up on youtube. you're going to absolutely love this, [name]. here we go… listen to this. oh, for fuck's sake, advert.”

“let's go down the pub and get shitfaced.”

“where do i see myself in five years? well, me and [name] will have a flat in the middle of the village and all of our furniture will be inflatable and we'll have cable and it will pay for itself, because we're going to use the spare room to breed quails, because their eggs are worth fucking shitloads.”

“is this about the calippo, still? because you offered to buy me that.”

“if he wants to go, good luck to him, i say. i reckon he thinks that i can't live without him, which is a laugh, because he went a whole weekend away once and i got on all right. i just ended up following this cat around the village.”

“i've got to do what's right for me, at the end of the day, instead of worrying about other people.”

“how about you say sorry? sorry for the massive knife that's hanging out the back of my back because of you.”

“oh, and while you're stabbing me in the back, feel free to bend down and kiss my arse.”

“can i just ask you an honest question? why would you want to leave the village when we've got a pub and a shop?”

“i think you don't know how lucky we have it to be doing nothing with our lives, like. we're all going to die, anyway, so what's the point in doing anything?”

“i want ownership of the words fucknut and dickmilk.”

“i had this come through the post. and i've got a few concerns about it. firstly, this guy on the front looks really arrogant. not the sort of guy i was expecting, if i'm honest.”

“this is starting to stress me out a little bit.”

“why are you trying to stress me out? you know i'm already stressed out as it is.”

“the bloke that used to live in there, right, kept hearing strange noises coming out of his attic at night. and he'd go to the fridge and find that food was missing from the fridge. so he thought, ‘i'm just going to go up to the attic and check this out.’ and he found an entire family of peruvian panpipe buskers just living up there. and he thought ‘i'm just going to leave them to it, ‘cos they're not really doing me any harm.’ and then, a few years later, he thought, "well, i'll just go up to the attic to check on them. ‘see if they're all right.’ and it turned out they'd all died of asbestos poisoning. yeah, he doesn't live here any more.”

“some people will always be scared of me, and i can't change that, no matter how nice i am. but there's a balance to be had between being nice and being feared.”

“don't really like catching up. it's not my thing.”

“i just watched this video of this girl doing a random act of kindness on youtube. she basically paid for this old man's shopping at the till. and this old man was, like, about 90 years old. and he's so fucking old, like, you could see through his skin. and he just starts bawling his eyes out. he's like, ‘you're fucking joking me, this ain't fucking real life.’ i just thought... i want to make someone feel like that. ‘cos that's... i really… that's what i want to do.”

“i'm not dead. just can't be arsed to text her sometimes.”

“you know, correct me if i'm wrong, but four texts a day is complete madness. no-one can keep up with that.”

“i am doing kind things selfishly.”

“i was at midnight mass one year, right, someone got tipped off i was there. as i was coming out the church, someone tries to shoot me with a crossbow.”

“well, i haven't seen the film, have i? that's why i came here - to watch the fucking film - like a normal human being.”

“i've made an effort by coming here tonight. i didn't want to come.”

“i had to wheel him here from his house in an asda trolley, cos he was just too heartbroken to move.”

“sometimes you don't know what you got until you ain't got it any more. like blockbuster's. i just took 'em for granted - and then, one day, gone, and you spend ages trying to figure out what went wrong, and then you realise it was your fault all along.”

“i thought you said you wanted to fix things.”

“she wanted it to go that way, and it just wasn't gonna go that way. she even got me thinking that they'd get back together… ..but that's manipula.... manipulative people... do that. and he's better off without her.”

“that wasn't much to write home about.”

“it's fucking dead, isn't it?”

“basically, somebody's been sending me threatening letters, and i don't know who's doing it - and i am concerned, because my peripheral vision is poor, so, if somebody attacks me from the sides or snipes at me from an upstairs window, i am fucked - but my hearing is excellent, see? so i just need to spend a few days inside honing my sonar, and i'll be fine then.”

“if you don't like the work, the circus is in town and they're always looking for clowns.”

“his soul is just going to crumble to dust.”

“this really is not a good situation for me. a physical threat is something that i can deal with, but a sexual thing is not my area of expertise.”

“just really fucked in the head, mate.”

“what have i done? i haven't done anything wrong.”

“do you know how sad that is? that is so, actually, sad. that makes me sad for you, that you can't take a joke.”

“i think i just got a bit carried away with the whole thing.”

“your finger's going up my arsehole, mate.”

“i'll hold the back of your head, so you don't bash yourself.”

“when i lie in future, i don't want a massive lecture on how bad lying is, cos deep down, you're the worst of us all, mate.”

“i'd quite like a coke.”

“it's going to be like gluing a breadstick back together, because… like, as if a breadstick's been in a blender and it's all… ...the pieces smashed up.”

“like, this one time i started a fight club in the village hall, and i got a black eye from beating myself up. but it made my enemies think, ‘fuck, if she can do that to herself, what the fuck can she do to me?’”

“i'm absolutely 1,000% sure i've broken it in two places.”

“i knew this day would come.”

“i should be in tk maxx, getting the bargains that i deserve.”

“unlike you, [name], i'm not a fashion disaster.”

“i'm still warm in my grave, and she's sucking off the pallbearer.”

“you know, it took me ten years to get over [name], and i only went out with her for half a day.”

“i swear to god, if i see him here again, i swear to god, i will have no hesitation in just going up to him and just planting one on his face.”

“right, then keep your nose out of my business, yeah? nosy old cock-womble.”

“[name]’s attitude to me is puzzling. if i walk past her in the street

and say hi, she'll tell me to fuck off. yet every year, she sends me a really sweet, nice christmas card. you know, there's just no consistency there.”

“he's good-looking up close, isn't he?”

“don't show me any weakness, because i will take advantage.”

“no, put the brick down, you fucking psychopath.”

“when i asked him, he just said, ‘come to my office now,’ which means we're in the fucking shit, cos we're always in fucking shit.”

“i shouldn't be paying you at all.”

“i've always had a son. i talk about him all the time.”

“he's my son. he's not my dog.”

“it reminds me of the wicker man. i don't really know why.”

“i just find it weird how you can be so close to someone and they can be such a big part of your life, and then the next minute, you're just sort of strangers in the night.”

“i don't want the emotional implications.”

“well, about five years ago, i sold my birthday to my mum for about 200 quid, which means my mum's legally entitled now to never celebrate my birthday ever again for the rest of my life. not even, like, a happy birthday cup of tea, or a moonpig card, nothing - which is the worst decision i ever made in my entire life.”

“he deserves that anyway, because he's been sexting my nan, so…”

“what's this surprise? cos i need to know whether it's going to be worth this walk.”

“i always see them banners above the motorway, and i always thought, ‘who the fuck does them?’ well, now i know. people like me.”

“did you know you can't get stung by a stinging nettle if you grab the leaf top and bottom, like that? it's only when you touch it on the sides, it stings. agh, actually, that stung, then.”

“pez dispenser, they're cursed. they are, i'm not even joking. honestly, when i had one of them, i had the worst bout of bad luck i ever had in my life.”

“i swear down, it's a short cut. it might be a pleasant walk, we might enjoy it.”

“i'm not scared of the fox twins. i'd just like to sit them down and ask 'em plainly, ‘look, guys, what is going on? ‘cos this has just gotten completely out of hand now. you know, stop walking on your knuckles, stand up straight, be the best version of you that you can be. get a job, even. there's a trolley boy who works at tesco's, you know, who may as well have been raised by wolves. if he can get a job, you guys can walk it.’”

“yes, there has been talk of strange goings-on in the woods, ghost sightings and the like. but… ...they're never from particularly reliable sources.”

“i live with a ghost. there's a ghost in that house. he's like a civil war cavalier, with all the hair and the hat and all that. and every time i walk into the living room, he doffs his cap. and on his shoulder, he's got this crow that barks at me. it means i spend less time in the house, really. not because of him, because he's-he's quite peaceable. but the crow is malevolent. and i'm not having that. i can't share my house with a malevolent bird.”

“that's haunted as fuck.”

“am i going mad here, or does that, to you, look like that's where just ghost will hang out all the time?”

“look at him, little red riding twat.”

“if he's got an attitude with me, i swear to god, i'll just grab the steering wheel and drive us all into a wall.”

“it's a bit annoying, actually. cos this is not the first or the second time i've had to tell you, really, is it?”

“his sparkle has just gone.”

“you know my dad actually wrote the song wonderwall on the back of a beer mat in the space of ten minutes, don't you?”

“i've just got a tiny, tiny, tiny little favour to ask you.”

“when i think of [name], i think of someone who is very loyal. and very, very stupid. sort of more stupid than loyal. sort of 70% stupid, 30% loyal, probably. because she's very loyal. but extremely stupid.”

“do you know what? i actually don't think he loves you at all and i don't think he's ever loved you.”

“all right, that's harsh and unnecessary, but fine.”

“frankly, she is behaving like the antichrist.”

“i literally just got here.”

“you are such an unemotional slab of ham, [name].”

“i've got so much shit on that man you would not believe.”

“there's something in my eye.”

“i just can't quit him, you know?”

“yeah, we might have a fiery relationship,  but when we're together, it's just… it's just pure chemistry, isn't it?”

“i'm not proud of it, believe me. but at the end of the day, i'm a very vindictive person, you know? it is what makes me me.”

“i basically went out and bought an alpaca off gumtree for £500. of all the mistakes i've made in my life, that was possibly the largest. definitely the physically largest.”

“yeah, i really don't wanna talk about that.”

“her only loyalty is to herself, staffies, and the tv channel dave… ...which, in my opinion, is a tv channel made by knuckle-draggers for knuckle-draggers.”

“i can't move on till i've seeked revenge, unfortunately.”

“if that was in france, that would be fine, but we're not in france.”

“the only thing we had in common, really, was stealing, and that was more my thing that i got him onto. but it just goes to show, you know, some friendships last and some friendships don't, but that's just the way it is.”

“you know it was me that got you sacked, don't you?”

“the thing i learnt about friendship is, you gotta accept each other's flaws, no matter how toxic they may be.”

“shit-stirring from beyond the grave.”

#rp meme #rp prompt #rp starters #rp sentence meme #rp sentence starters #this is the nichest meme ive made #but this show is so fucking funny okay

[kpop-zone]

Bully Blackpink having a crush on their victim

Trigger Warning: bullying, violence, insults, blood

Jisoo

“Who’s that?”

All the heads of Jisoo’s minions turned around simultaneously as you walked past them in the hallway, causing you to duck your head and to pick up your pace.

“That’s Y/N L/N. We have pretty much the same classes since primary school.”

Lisa answered nonchalantly and Jisoo watched how you disappeared out of sight with a frown.

You had been attending the same school as her all this time? How come she had never noticed you? Sure, it was hard to rule over hundreds of students, but she still took a pride in her ability to remember the faces of all the people that she had ever met. You must have been smart enough to stay off her radar, because she was sure that she would have never forgotten your face. Something about it had instantly caught her attention and triggered the urge to know everything about you.

“Tell me everything about Y/N. Now.”

Jisoo ordered Lisa without averting her gaze from the door that you had just disappeared in.

“But what about class?”

Lisa stuttered in confusion, causing Jisoo to look at her with an icy expression.

“Now.”

She replied firmly and Lisa instantly nodded her head in fear.

Too much time had already been wasted. Jisoo needed to know whether you could be her partner in crime; she needed to know if she could make you hers. So Lisa needed to tell her everything that she had learned about you in all those years. Every single detail. Jisoo forced Lisa to talk for almost an hour, but eventually she had collected enough information and made a decision.

“Save a bigger table in the cafeteria today. We need one more seat.”

Without waiting for Lisa’s response, Jisoo walked to the room that you had disappeared in earlier just when the bell rang to indicate the end of the lesson. Some students wanted to rush out the door, but as soon as they saw Jisoo they all made room for her. Quickly, she scanned their faces, but you weren’t one of them, so she pushed them away and entered the classroom. You were still packing your stuff, oblivious to what was going on right now opposing to the rest of your classmates who tried their best to evaporate into thin air as quickly as possible. Calmly, you gathered all your books and Jisoo walked up to you with a smile playing on her lips. Your obliviousness was adorable.

“How was class?”

Her question caused you to flinch and to drop all your books consequently. Slowly, you turned around with horror reflecting in your eyes, but Jisoo couldn’t hold that against you. You couldn’t know that she was here with only the best intentions. Maybe she should just cut straight to the point.

“You’re having lunch with me today.”

Jisoo smiled, trying to calm your nerves, but you still looked like you had just seen a ghost.

“W-what?”

You stuttered while hugging your books closely to your body after picking them up.

“You’ve caught my attention earlier. And now I’d like to take you for lunch. I’ll even pay for your snacks.”

Jisoo winked, not planning to keep her attraction a secret. There was no way that you could resist her charm.

“T-thank you for the offer, b-but I’m already meeting with my friends.”

Your reply caught her off guard and you almost managed to slip past her, but in the last second, Jisoo held out her arm to cut off your way. Were you playing hard to get? Didn’t you know that she didn’t like games? Anger started to seethe inside of her, but Jisoo took a deep breath, reminding herself that she wanted to turn you from one of her victims to her equal. Therefore, she forced a smile back on her lips and turned to you.

“I’m sorry, I must have conveyed the wrong impression. This wasn’t a question. You are having lunch with me.”

With every word, Jisoo took a step closer to you until you were pressed against your table. You were trembling in fear by now, causing her to pat your cheek lightly.

“Aw don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll forgive you for your mistake. You’ll get the hang of it.”

She cooed before grabbing your wrist and pulling you out of the classroom.

You were hers now.

Jennie

Jennie angrily stared at you from across the cafeteria. How dare you? How dare you affecting her authority? Practically, you hadn’t really done anything. Like all the other students, you tried your best to avoid her at all cost and endured her evil games bravely. But you still had managed to get into her head. You were all that she could ever think about and to make everything worse, she had caught herself sparing you and your friends a few times already. Your audacity was unbelievable. She needed to make you pay for it.

“Who’s in the mood for a little fun?”

All of Jennie’s friends immediately looked at her with a mischievous glint in their eyes, obviously intrigued by her proposition. They were always up to cause some trouble.

Wordlessly, they followed Jennie out of the cafeteria, trusting their leader to find them an appropriate occupation. And Jennie already had a very special one in mind. After observing you for almost a month, she knew everything about you. Your habits, your likings and your schedule. So she knew that today was the only day you had to walk from the cafeteria to your classroom all on your own. It was the perfect opportunity. Together with her friends she hid in the restrooms that you had to pass to prevent you from seeing their attack coming. A few minutes passed and Jennie already started worrying that she had made a mistake but eventually she spotted you through the gap in the door.

“Now.”

She ordered, causing two of her friends to dash out the door in order to pounce on you.

You let out a surprised yelp and looked around for help, but all the other students in the hallway quickly turned a blind eye to what was happening, knowing that Jennie would make them pay if they would interfere. So your only chance to escape was by fighting back, but although you did a good job, Jennie’s friends maneuvered you into the restroom eventually and locked the door.

“What do you want?”

You yelled in desperation while looking at Jennie with panic reflecting in your eyes.

“Y/N, relax, we’re just gonna have some fun together. Right, guys?”

She feigned innocence and her friends laughed maliciously.

“W-what have I done?”

You stuttered when Jennie walked closer to you, causing her to smirk. At least you still seemed to be scared of her.

“You need to be put in your place again.”

She whispered while brushing your hair out of your face.

“But I didn’t do anything.”

You choked out in confusion while tears started to pool in your eyes, causing Jennie’s heart to ache suddenly. Her usual joy in torturing others was replaced by dread and she stared into your eyes bewildered. How were you able to affect her this way? Jennie couldn’t explain it, but she knew that her reputation could be ruined if she became soft for you. She couldn’t let that happen.

Therefore, Jennie turned around to her friends and nodded her head to allow them to do whatever they wanted with you. Wide grins spread on their faces and they slowly walked closer to you, savoring the look of horror in your face.

“Please, don’t do this!”

You begged and Jennie needed to turn away in order to not cave in. She heard how her friends pushed you into one of the stalls to empty the content of your backpack into the toilet and to do whatever other evil came to their minds. It was unbearable for Jennie to hear and she bolted out the door.

What was she supposed to do with you?

Chaeyoung

“I’m going to make her pay for this.”

Chaeyoung gritted through her teeth after her cheerleading coach had just told her that she needed to take at least one tutoring lesson because of her bad Math grades before she could lead the team again. Did she look like she needed the help of others?

“Come on...it’s not that bad. At least you can have some fun with the nerds...”

Jennie smirked next to her, causing Chaeyoung to cheer up a bit. She was right. Usually the geeks hid away in the library, the one place in school that Chaeyoung and her friends avoided. But now that she had to take tutoring lessons there, she could stir up their hideout a bit. Therefore, Chaeyoung signed up for a random math tutoring lesson that afternoon and excitedly made her way to the library after all her classes had ended.

There were several tables in the middle occupied by students, each one looking more pathetic than the other. As soon as they spotted her, their jaws dropped, and they looked at each other in fear, apparently knowing what was about to come.

“So which one of you losers will have the honor to spend the afternoon with me?”

She asked sweetly although her tone couldn’t take away the sting of her words.

“That would be me.”

You said from one of the tables while waving at Chaeyoung friendly, causing her to be taken aback for a second. You weren’t scared? Not knowing how to respond to you, she simply walked over to your table and sat down beside you.

“I’m glad you found your way here today! I’m Y/N and I’m going to be your tutor.”

You smiled and Chaeyoung needed to pinch herself in order to stop staring at you dumbfounded.

“Well that makes one of us. I could literally think of a billion different things that I’d rather do than to be stuck here in this smelly library with you.”

She rolled her eyes, but once again you stayed calm.

“Yeah I get that, but I’ll try to make this lesson as fun as possible! Well, I mean as fun as math can be.”

You giggled and Chaeyoung couldn’t help but notice how cute it sounded. All of a sudden, a curiosity overcame her and she needed to know more about you. Who was this nerdy, yet loveable loser in front of her?

“Are you new here?”

She asked, wondering whether your fearlessness was rooted in a lack of knowledge about her.

“No, I’ve been living here all my life already. We’ve actually had quite a few classes together already.”

You chuckled, apparently finding her question funny. You dared to laugh at her? Normally, she would have already made any other student pay for such a misconduct; yell at them till they cry, destroy their books, pour their beverage over them. The possibilities were endless, but for some reason she had inhibitions with you. Therefore, Chaeyoung simply settled for a verbal counterstroke.

“Well your face is pretty...unremarkable and not really worth remembering.”

Her words were supposed to sound iffy, but in the end, Chaeyoung’s voice betrayed her. It came out hesitant and quiet, because she didn’t believe her words herself. You were far from being unremarkable.

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t really like attention, so I’m trying to fly under the radar.”

You flashed her one of your cute smiles again that managed to silence her with ease. You were trying to make her feel better after what she had just said to you? Your behavior was absolutely inexplicable for Chaeyoung and managed to make her behave for the rest of the lesson. Not once did she insult or disobey you. Like an obedient student, she worked through the exercises with you while attentively listening to your tips, not even realizing that an hour had already passed.

“Ok, so that’s it for today.”

You eventually closed her math book and Chaeyoung looked at the clock in surprise. Maybe she didn’t particularly have fun this afternoon, but she had definitely already spent her days worse. But of course, she would never admit that.

“Finally.”

She huffed and you chuckled while packing your stuff.

Together you left the library in silence, causing Chaeyoung to take nervous glances at you from the side. She felt awful for having insulted you earlier, but she didn’t want to apologize either. The least that she could do though was to thank you for your help. Therefore, she awkwardly cleared her throat once you came to a halt in front of the school.

“Um...thank you for you help. It seems like math does kind of make sense after all.”

She mumbled sheepishly and a big smile appeared on your face.

“I’m glad that I could help! I hope-“

Before you could finish your sentence, laughter from the side caused Chaeyoung to whip her head around in shock.

“Ouuu, Chaeng, did you find a new friend?”

Jennie asked spitefully, making the rest of the cheerleading squad laugh who had appeared out of thin air. They had probably just gathered for practice.

Shit.

You couldn’t be associated with her. That would absolutely kill her reputation. She wasn’t one of those losers that hid in the library. She wasn’t the sheep, she was the wolf. Therefore, Chaeyoung quickly joined in the laughter of her friends.

“Ew...gross.”

She scoffed before punching your books out of your hands and strutting down the stairs to her friends who yelled insults at you. It took all her strength to fake a smile and to not run back to you. But once she turned around and saw the betrayed look in your face, her heart seemed to be pierced by a hundred daggers.

This was all her fault. And she needed to fix this again.

Even if that meant that she had to ruin her math grade even more, just to be able to have more tutoring lessons with you.

Lalisa

When the bell rang to indicate the start of the next lesson, a wide grin appeared on Lisa’s face. She would have PE now; her favorite class. Not only because she was one of the most athletic students in school, but because you would be there. From the first moment that Lisa had laid her eyes on you, she knew that you were special. She felt drawn to you and soon her games with everyone else started to become boring. She only wanted to play with you. Unfortunately, however, you were smart and managed to slip through her fingertips most of the days. But on one day of the week, you couldn’t run away from her: the day of the PE lesson.

Therefore, Lisa for once made an effort to arrive to a class on time in order to be able to savor every single second with you. In lightning speed, she got changed in the locker room before entering the gym where you were already looking for her anxiously. Once you spotted her, you gulped thickly and tried to hide behind one of your friends, knowing too well what was about to come. Without paying attention to the teacher who was scolding Lisa for being a little late, she headed straight for you with a smug smirk on her lips.

“Hey gorgeous.”

She greeted you once she reached you while leaning so close to you that her lips almost touched your ear. You flinched when her breath hit your skin, causing her to grin in satisfaction.

Let the games begin.

To Lisa’s delight, the PE teacher ordered everyone to run a few laps to warm up which would give her plenty of time for a little chit chat with you. Like always, you started running like a maniac to get away from her, but it took Lisa merely a few seconds before she caught up to you.

“How is my favorite person doing? I’ve missed you!”

She winked at you, causing you to pick up your pace.

“Rude...”

Lisa scoffed before matching your pace. This time, however, she didn’t allow you to get away again. Instead, she took a big step forward in order to trip you up. Not having expected to meet an obstacle, you stumbled forward while rotating your arms frantically, trying to find your balance again. But it was of no use. With full force you collided with the floor and a silent yelp slipped past your lips. Alerted by the loud thud, your PE teacher immediately whipped her head around and Lisa waved at her friendly.

“Oops...my bad. Don’t worry teacher, I’ll help Y/N up.”

She yelled sweetly before turning to you.

“You didn’t answer my question, Y/N. That’s rude.”

Lisa pouted while choking down a giggle. You were looking so helpless right now. Reluctantly, you accepted her help and let her pull you to your feet before hobbling off.

“Next time you should answer.”

She shouted after you, but you chose to ignore her.

1:0 for her

The second round of your game wasn’t a long time in the coming. After your little incident, your teacher called everyone to the middle of the gym and announced a game of dodgeball. Maliciously, Lisa laughed, causing you to look at her in fear. Both of you knew that she would attack you over and over again until the end of the class. In anticipation, Lisa waited for the whistle of the teacher before sprinting to the middle of the field to grab a ball. Of course, none of your teammates dared to attack her, so Lisa could take her time to aim at you. She threw the ball with full force but unfortunately you managed to duck just in time. Impressive, Lisa though to herself. Nonetheless, your effort was in vain. She would get you. Over and over, you needed to flee her attacks until you were panting violently and looking like you were about to pass out.

This would be your defeat.  

One last time, Lisa aimed at you with a big grin plastered on her face, ready to take you out of the game. But before she could claim her victory, another ball suddenly hit you right in the face, causing you to conjure it in pain. Dumbfounded, Lisa looked back and forth between the ball in her hands and your bloody face. This wasn’t her doing. Anger suddenly started to seethe in her stomach, and she turned around to see that one of her teammates was laughing at you victoriously. He dared to hurt you? A rage that Lisa had never felt before completely blinded her and she darted at him without a care for any consequences. With one big leap, she tackled him and immediately pressed his face into the ground.

“Who do you think you are? Huh? If you dare to touch Y/N one more time, I will kill you.”

Lisa gritted through her teeth before she felt herself being pulled off the guy by the PE teacher.

This would get her into a lot of trouble. But she didn’t care. No one was allowed to touch you except her.

#blackpink reactions #blackpink #blackpink imagine #jisoo #jennie #chaeyoung #rose #lalisa #lisa #girl group reactions #girl group #girl group imagines #kpop reactions #kpop #idolxreader #bully au

[dragonsareourfuture]

I Don’t Belong Here — L Lawliet/GN! Reader

Summary: What kind of a story begins with the main character dying? Well, this one. L Lawliet has lived out his days on earth and finds himself in the afterlife. The Good Place, he is told by a neighborhood architect named (Name). One who shows him around his own neighborhood and introduces him to new people. But something doesn’t add up, L notices. Does he really belong in the Good Place?

(I'd advise having knowledge on the TV show "The Good Place" if you wish to understand the majority of this clusterfuck. Although, if you wish to proceed regardless, go right ahead!)

Chapter One: L Lawliet, You Are Dead.

<>

Weclome! Everything Is Fine.

Everything is fine? Is that so?

The last thing L remembers is the ceiling. Just…the ceiling. The fans twirling on the ceiling of the headquarter building and the cross hatching of the tiles. It was peaceful. Was he sleeping? If he had been sleeping, then how did he end up here?

Now, instead of the ceiling, he stares at a wall. Big, green letters stare back at him. “Welcome! Everything Is Fine,” they say. Something inside L is prickling, like something he is forgetting struggling to find its way to his brain. He wants to ponder it, but something about the words splayed out on the wall in front of him is telling him that he doesn’t have to. Everything is fine, after all.

He only manages to tear his eyes away from the bold, sans serif font when the sound of a doorknob turning catches his attention. Huh. Has there always been a door there? If so he hadn’t noticed it, which L thinks is completely absurd as he usually takes mental notes of everything in a room before getting himself seated. But there it is, a door he missed while transfixed on the somehow calming message on the wall, now opening to reveal...a person.

You stand in the doorway, simply smiling.

Now that L’s attention has been drawn away from the mystifying message he can properly analyze his surroundings, and his new visitor. He’s in a rather simple room, nothing but a few plants dotting the perimeter and a couch in the middle, which he is currently sitting on. And he’s sitting normally. Hm. That feels…itchy. L inches a foot onto the couch in his discomfort of sitting with his bottom planted firmly on the cushions with both feet on the ground. Though he hesitates to bring both feet up and hug his knees to his chin as he normally would, because he senses that your sudden presence means he is about to be standing and following you into that mysterious room behind you. Like a doctor calling a patient into an appointment. Except in this case L has no idea what you are, and judging by your suit and comical, colorful bowtie, you are certainly not a doctor.

“L?” you ask, showing your teeth in a kind smile. “Come on in.”

And against his better judgement, he does. L was never the person to simply keep quiet and obey orders in a situation he does not understand. And there certainly is not a whole lot of understanding happening in his brain right now. He should be asking questions. He should be refusing you. He doesn’t know you, you could be leading him to his doom. All this is possible but something about the way you smile at him…like those big, green words, all he reads from you is “Everything Is Fine.”

The room that you lead him into doesn’t look all that much like a death trap, but you can never be sure. It’s a simple office, plants similar to the ones in the waiting room sit in pots in the corners and on the windowsill. The sun shines outside, seeping through the glass and illuminating the desk on the left as you walk in. On it are a few little trinkets, paperweights, and, right in the middle, a manila file folder.

You circle around the desk and settle yourself into the rollaway chair, gesturing to the sleek armchair across from you. “Why don’t you have a seat, hm?”

What is wrong with him right now? You ask him to do something and he just…does? What happened to his spine, other than it bending exponentially thanks to the way he sits?

No matter, there are more important things to think about right now. Like the fact that he might finally be getting some answers.

You open the file in front of you and skim whatever’s written, opening your mouth to say something when your eyes meet his. And then they drift down to his legs. You stare at him curiously with your mouth still agape for a few moments at how his knees are pulled up to his chin, eventually shaking your head and getting back on track.

“My name is (Name), and of course I already know yours.” you say, folding your hands in front of you. “So, how are you, L?”

How should L even answer that?

“I’m…confused, mostly. How are you?”

Your eyes light up, as if you haven’t been asked that in a while. “Oh, well I’m fine. Y’know, busy, but fine! And, yes, I’d assume you’d be confused, everyone in your situation usually is.”

“My situation? What exactly do you mean by that?” Now that L has finally asked one question he can’t seem to stop the ball from rolling “Speaking of you, who are you exactly? Actually, never mind who, but where—“

You hold up a hand. “All of your questions will be answered, I promise. There’s just one thing that you need to know before we tackle any of that.”

“And what is that?”

Your eyebrows lift slightly, elbows digging into the surface of your desk as you lean forward. You look like you’re about to tell him that he’s fired. That his dog died. That some kid took the last of the strawberry shortcake and he’s going to have to settle for carrot cake. What comes out of your mouth is much worse.

“L Lawliet, you are dead.”

…

He’s…?

Yes. Yes, he is. That’s why he doesn’t remember how he got here.

He’s dead. Huh.

L is perfectly content in not saying anything about this new little factoid, but you’re looking at him expectantly, and a little cautiously. Like you either expect him to punch you or burst into tears. L wonders if that fear is based on experience. How many other people have to told this to?

“…Am I, now? That’s a shame.”

You breathe out a sigh, which could be from relief. “Yes, it is. But, not to worry! Because you’ve ended up in the Good Place, L. You’re going to be okay.”

“So it’s called the Good Place?” L brings his thumb to his lips. “A rather simple thing to call it.”

You nod. “Pretty self-explanatory, right? We didn’t want anyone to get confused. There are just so many names for it on earth. Heaven, Valhalla, Nirvana…But it all translates to one place. Here. And you get to be a part of it.”

“That sounds…” Before he can articulate his thoughts, a dilemma from earlier brings itself to the forefront of L’s mind. “Wrong.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My memories are all wrong. Before this, all I can remember is the ceiling and nothing else. If I were to have died, surely I would remember it, yes?”

You take a gulp of air and pull the manila file closer to you. “We take it upon ourselves to erase the memories of death if they are particularly traumatizing or embarrassing. Helps the residents adapt into a peaceful afterlife better, I’m sure you understand.”

“Yes, that is perfectly sensible. Although I may ask, what is an example of a death that is not at all traumatizing?”

“Pfft, there hardly is one. You’d be surprised how many memories we have to erase.”

“On the contrary, I am hardly surprised. I’m sure there are plenty of people who cannot accept the nature of their death, let alone the fact that they have died in the first place.”

You sigh, “You’re tellin’ me. Most people come around once I tell them that they’re basically in paradise, but some won’t even listen to me once I break the news. One person tried to convince me I was the dead one! It’s just—oh, um, but that’s hardly the point.”

“Do you ever tell someone how they died if they ask?”

Your expression hardens. “I do, but I like to know that they’re certain before I tell them.”

“I am.”

Exhaling through your nose, you prop the manila folder up like a book, scanning the files inside. “Alright then. Let’s see here…ah, okay. So, unfortunately this one’s pretty traumatizing, it’s not really one of those embarrassing deaths that some people get a kick out of, so brace yourself.” You look over the top of the folder as if checking to see if he’s braced himself. His expression and stance is unwavering, large eyes merely staring back at you patiently. “You were betrayed by your colleague Yagami Light – also known as your adversary Kira – and killed by the Shinigami Rem at his request.”

Oh yeah. That.

The ceiling was not clear in view, no, there was something obstructing L’s view of it. A face, staring down at him as his heart gave out right on the floor. Brown eyes filled with such cocky maliciousness, the upward tilt of lips L only knew to spout lies. It all equated to a side of Yagami Light that L knew existed but had never seen up until his final moments. It all added up to one final conclusion -- Yagami Light was Kira all along. L had been right. But the price of knowing that for certain is that, now, there’s nothing he can do about it.

“I’m..I’m sorry. I never know what to do when I have to tell people…” you try, reaching across the table and planting a hand down in front of him. Not asking to hold his hand, not even expecting a reaction. Just showing that you’re there, and that you’re trying.

“It’s up to them now. I’ve done all that I could. I trust my successors.”

“In catching the murderer Kira, right?” you ask, to which L confirms with a polite utterance of ‘yes’. Obviously you know the answer. “I understand that is one of the many, many cases you’ve worked on during your lifetime.” you scan your eyes quickly down what appears to be a long list in your folder. Do you have every detail of his life in those files? Every case he ever took? Hell, every day in his life? You set the file down flat in front of you and look at him with something L determines is admiration. “You’ve done so much good in your lifetime, L. You’ve worked so hard over the entirety of your life to make sure you left the world a little better than you found it. Now…well, now you can rest.”

You can relax, you tell him. And it seems to simple coming out of your mouth yet somehow it still feels out of reach.

“I can…” Is all L manages to say, his preoccupation coming across as dreamy and wistful. His mind is busy running a mile a minute and his mouth just can’t keep up. L decides to test the words out on his own tongue to see if they still sound foreign, “I can rest now.”

Yeah, no, it still sounds like bullshit.

“Yes! Well, after the tour, of course.”

“Tour?”

You start to stand, straightening your colorful bowtie and circling around your desk to the door which you pull open. You don’t exit right away, though. You stand next to the exit, waiting for L to follow you. While he works on untangling himself from his current position you clarify, “A tour of the neighborhood! Where you’ll spend your afterlife.”

#death note #death note x reader #death note fanfic #the good place #the good place au #l lawliet x reader #x reader fanfic #x reader #reader insert #death note l #l lawliet

[herstarburststories]

Calamitous Love

Paring: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Dean shows up at your house, but this is a calamitous love. Sooner or later, it's going to destroy.

A/N: I was based and inspired by so many things to get this ready, I can't even start pointing them here. This started as something and escalated to something else, and I'm immensely in love with how it is now. I'm posting a version of this through Dean's POV soon. The prompt is bolded and its for @tvdspngirl314's bday challenge! Hope you like it, honey! And happy bday.

Warnings: language, mentions of sex, fluff, angst, dean is a perv in a cute way, s1 dean Ily

Dean Winchester could easily remember how mad you were that night, after he purposely came to your party uninvited and stood on the porch talking to all your stupid friends. How the one you called the best out of them had wide eyes when she caught him there, and all the reaction she could get was him winking at her.

The man - who was more like a boy, really - with green eyes that matched your garden knew she would run and rush and breathlessly tell you that he was there.

Of course she did. Inez was never one for keeping secrets. He used to wonder if it was a matter of time for the blonde to spread yours.

Her loose lips were useful that night, though. He couldn't even finish his chatter about Chevrolet versus Toyota cars with that James guy before you bursted out of the door ferociously. Dean turned around and waited for many things; well-deserved slapping, indignated tears, a sharp scream strident enough to suppress the loud song which vibrated through everyone's skin like veins.

You surprised him once again.

You closed your eyelashes and took a deep breath, as if to control the burning fire behind your thoughts. The Winchester had seen her in arguments before, the whole ‘my mouth is a loaded gun without a trigger’ thing held an entirely new meaning. He knew you wanted to come at him, and Dean wouldn’t put any guilty on you for that. As you walked towards him, his brittle heart raced like one of those chick flick moments he always mocked about - yet, he couldn't help but stare. Your legs looked so good in that light, pretty ass that Dean loved to grab wrapped in a tight red skirt. You had a white tank with cleavage on and your hair was, as usual, free on its widest way. The hunter adored how your brown sea could never seem not to be a mess, and how you made chaos marvelous like a natural. He surely needed that in his life.

Isn’t it all you had been since the very beginning, honestly? Isn’t it what love utterly is when the lights are dim and the weather changes? Cutting right to the bone like a surgeon, you were that one thing, that one hand that would touch Dean’s weary head and make it rest, those unique lips who could whisper tales of hope in the backseat of his car and he could actually believe it. The one, you know, that one person who didn’t make the eldest Winchester feel like he cared more than he was cared for. He often experienced that math problem, dad never seemed to be satisfied enough to be proud of him, and Sam was always talking about how he wanted to leave someday.

‘’Dean.’’ You said and your tone was harsh, a single eyebrow arched with a quiet defying question. The green eyed man wouldn't be shocked if you had called him out before when he was too busy paying attention to you to notice. ‘’Let's go to the garden.’’

And then you grabbed his wrist, sneaking in through the rusting garden gates in the back of your house. Such mere touch put his skin on flames. So many others, mostly monsters or people who were really monsters at heart, already chained his hands and he always broke the cuffs. This time, in your hands, Dean almost wished he could stay put, grounded to something else other than bloody walls and oily guns. He missed you so much. The way your fingers felt on his cheeks, how you'd allow him to kiss every inch of your body, and how you seemed to understand.

Anyway, it wasn't time for him to turn sentimental just yet. Leave it to Sam. 

Dean’s boots were cruel against the grass, walking side by side with your high heels ones. Above all the partying noise, they both were quiet for once, as if they were going into a clandestine meeting.

He hated it.

‘’What the fuck are you doing here?’’ you turned around in a swift move before crossing your arms. It took a lot of self control not to glare at your breast, which is why Dean didn’t. He pictured it wasn’t that bed since he was only glancing for a few seconds and the malicious smirk on his face faded into him licking his bottom lip through the memories of fucking, grabbing and playing with them. You rolled your eyes, impressed by my immature behavior. ‘’Winchester, I asked what you are doing here.’’

Always so dominant in every situation but in bed. He sighed to himself, man, I can’t lose her.

‘’Listen, Y/N/N, I’m sorry.’’

‘’You are sorry? You can take your apologies and put them in your sorry ass till’ they come out of your mouth, Dean.’’ And, of course, stubborn. Dean Winchester wouldn't be so attracted to you in any other way. Frisky women always had the best him.

He groaned, ‘’Y/N, come on, it wasn't like that--’’

You interrupted his reasoning with a laugh empty of joy: ‘’You left me. You just walked away. No calls, no texts, just left. You promised you wouldn't. You said I could trust you.’’

‘’And you can!’’

He wasn’t able to blame you for that. Still, it broke him to hear every casual syllable in raw honesty. Dean would kill for you, and you didn’t even trust him because he ran away without any note, or previous warning, or anything. If only he could do the trick of just opening his mouth and allowing his emotions to come arrive, like Sam did all the time. All he tried to be, his little brother was simply born that way. He could never be like Sammy and you deserved a guy like him. Yet, the bruised man - more like a scared boy, really - remained in front of you. Because, for once, Dean wanted to act selfish and get it what he craved for. Just this once.

‘’To leave? Sure.’’ Nonetheless, you never learned how to read his mind, so you just aim a wry smile at him. ‘’Sorry, pal. I already have my mom to do that.’’

In that moment, every word you said was a stone designed to shatter him, and it was working fatefully. Sometimes, the green eyed hunter wished he was the one being left instead of leaving people behind. But how could you know that? It's the job side effect.

Taking a deep breath, your name is leaving his lips calmly. The most calm he had ever been since my three childhood years. ‘’Y/N…’’

‘’No, Dean.’’ You spoke. Because his forest eyes matched a lot with the grass in your garden under that dim light, almost like he was made to be there and you didn’t think you could do it again; lose him. It was too much.

‘’Dang, woman. I'm trying to explain!’’

‘’No, you are trying to come up with a stupid lie to cover up whatever you were doing for two weeks! I'm not stupid and I know you.’’ You accused, exasperatedly slapping your own tights. You were right, he had showed up to your party with a dumb excuse on his tongue, ready to tell you anything but the truth. Fuck, how the short haired hunter wanted you to have the imaginary money to buy one of his cheap lies. ‘’Tell me the truth. Don't come up with my dad needed help with a car and all that. What happened to you, Dean?’’

‘’I can't tell you.’’ He shrugged in frustration. 

I want to tell you everything, even the details in the corner, the monster in the forest.

You smile sarcastically, ‘’I don't see a fold on your lips.’’

But I can’t.

Dean huffed, pursing his lips. ‘’You would hate me.’’

You would think I’m a crazy liar.

‘’I already do.’’

You can be so violent when hurt. You both have bullets in different body parts, and there you are trying to shoot him. Modern Romeo and Juliet, a hunter romance; they try to kill each other instead of the evil thing.

‘’Y/N, you are gonna think I'm crazy.’’ He wiped his face, exasperated for you to change the subject.

Your lips were shut, the light reflected on you. Dean was glaring at you in a quiet desire for you to stay, to make him stay. But you stand still, looking away with delicate woe contorting your features.

It was clear after a hunt when the hunter should leave the town. And it was clear now that he killed any hope for them that Dean shall do what he usually does after a case. Nodding with a sigh, started to walk away.

But you stopped him.

‘’What are you doing?’’ You, in fact, sounded confused. Dean’s eyebrows knitted together, unsure if you two were having the conversation he thought you were not even one minute ago.

The answer resonated more like a question than anything: ‘’Leaving?’’

Your next words were the equivalent to the three ones he had never dared to say. ‘’I don't want you to leave.’’

Yes, the Winchester’s heart was pouring as fast as it was when he went on his first hunt. Yes, he could hear an old rock song playing when you have that look on your face. Yes, he knew he was acting like Sammy and all his cheesy discourses right now.

Who cares?

Apart from all that, Dean offered you a cocky smile. ‘’What do you want, sweetheart?’’

‘’Kiss me.’’

And he did. You trusted him in the garden and he got you back. Dean kissed you in the porch in front of all your stupid friends, too. And then he kissed you again in my car under the streetlight and in so many other uncountable places.

He was the person who got left a few years after that. As if his sorrow had become the prey for some cosmic joke. Sammy left for Stanford and it made his dad, well, more dad than usual. The weird thing was, inside of the grief of being left, Dean understood what he did to you. He had a lot of blood in his hands, enough to turn an ocean red if he ever tried to clean them, but I knew that leaving you was the worst thing that I had ever done.

Well, at least that was what two bottles of Whiskey helped him to get to.

Dean guessed he got what you felt on your porch that night as well. When he walked in, you knew you'd forgive him but you needed to sting back. As Sam left, his older brother already knew he'd forgive him, too. Dean fought about it, and I felt betrayed- wounded animals still attack. But he had forgave him the moment he missed him.

You forgave Dean too, and nowadays he resented for that with an insufferable regret. Because then he told you the truth about the world and showed you his scars. He kissed you, and your lips found every ugly in him. Still, they kept asking him for more. Your lips were the bed for my monster to sleep under.

Real monsters found them.

A few years later, the trio was in a town. You had a vacation from college - you dated a hunter with 5 bucks to his name, and you were studying journalism in a conceited university. It made no sense to Dean sometimes. All you asked for was to spend your free time with him and a call each night to make sure he was alive, which he gave you happily. Besides finding a way to go near your city at least once a month, more for himself than anything else. How did he get so lucky?

You liked certain aspects of the hunter life, surprisingly. The driving away, the creatures, even the restaurants. ‘’Come on, you guys hunt monsters. How cool is that? Also just driving, eating in a new place everyday. Did I mention monsters are real? You guys are like heroes!’’

He shook his head at your optimism, stroking your naked form gently that night.‘’We aren't here, Y/N. This life, it ends early and bloody. There is no place for white fancies and normal.’’

‘’Who said that I want that?’’ You mocked right before pressing your lips to the hickey on his neck, gaining a content groan from Dean. ‘’You monsters. As far as I'm concerned, you are a hero. My hero.’’ You add a subtle joke. ‘’Like a fairytale.’’

He scoffed and pulled you closer. ‘’More like a horror movie.’’ 

‘’Haven’t you read fairytales?’’ 

‘’No, but I did see the porn version.’’ Done with talking, he got on top of you, wearing that lopsided grin that started it all over again.

Years back, he asked you what you wanted. And you said, kiss me.

You kept saying that for a decade. Growing that calamitous love, feeding it with stolen glances and touches. If you knew what’s next, would you do it again?

Now you are laying on the ground as he got on my knees and pulled you closer. You are almost dead, a half lifeless body, but you hold on so tight to life, gasping for it. His stubborn girl who he loved so.

Your voice, usually so determined, is barely a whimper. ‘’Everyone wants a fairytale love.’’

‘’What? Don’t get sentimental on me, Y/N. You aren’t gonna die.’’ Dean says exasperated. It isn’t blind faith, unrealistic optimism or anything like this. It’s denial, one of the stages of grief he’s familiar with. It lives with him, as loyal as a dog, as present as a long lost mother’s love; he ignores the acceptance and hope, jumping right into anger, guilt, denial, and bargains with the devil. As if death is a champagne problem he can just drink and be done with because hey, if you can’t lose something, then you won’t right? Right? And if you do lose it, then you’ll just die too. Someone loses oxygen, they die. Someone loses too much blood, they die.

He will die if he loses you, he will. Dean is devastatingly sure of that. He can feel it in his bones. If you die, he dies. His body, his cicatrized soul was made out of in woe. That man - scared little boy like he was when Mary died, really -, He knows sadness like an old lover who always visits, and death is an old friend who always shakes his hands and appears without an invite. Dean Winchester knows pain, alright? Ask any person, he’s the Rome for men, built in ruins despise the beauty of good.

But this? No. He can’t survive. It isn’t possible that someone can hold so much suffering and agony. Skin and bone can only take so many hematomas. 

‘’Dean, shut up.’’ You place your hand on his cheek and Dean can’t help but lean in. His green eyes are glistening, the memory of the garden reminiscing in the back of your mind. ‘’I’ve wanted a fairytale love since I was a kid and my dad used to read the books my mom left on the shelf for me. So, in my defense, I never actually read them.’’

‘’Is this what a fairytale looks to you?’’ The eldest Winchester asks, not missing how your touch is colder against him. Where’s Sam with the car? Where’s a miracle? Where’s the justice and fair things and anything good? Dying in his arms, sinking her fingernails into his skin.

‘’The original ones, yes. They are just like that.’’ You chortle, but what’s meant to sound like happiness develops into a cough. All the energy and strength you have are used to push the words. You need Dean to know. ‘’I don't regret anything. You loved me, and I loved you. This is good. I don’t want your silly little mind to think any other way. You aren’t the villain in my story, Dean. You are the…’’ You’re interrupted by your own body giving up on you at an alarming rate, more bloodstained coughing.

‘’Don’t speak, honey. You’ll be alright, okay? No goodbye, we don’t do goodbye. You’ll be alright. Just keep yourself awake, ok?’’ Dean doesn’t know what to do other than hold you. What does one do with all the throbbing aches? He can’t say he will see you in heaven if you die. Staying with you for ten years was heaven already and this is the price he pays. That’s like when the ocean drains in a flash right in front of your eyes and someone tells you to swim in the sky instead. He can’t jump high enough to get it, he isn’t tall enough to get it. But God, Dean can’t just give up, he can’t just let you go. You are bleeding out and he’s dying with you. ‘’Please.’’ The Winchester pleas. ‘’Don’t leave me. Please.’’

If this is how you die and you can only pick up some words to say, you need to spell love. You need Dean Winchester to know he was loved with your last breath, there’s no better use to life other than love. Therefore, it’s easy to know what to voice when you look into his eyes one last time. ‘’I love you.’’

Through the agony, Dean gives you the sort of smile... You know, the sort of smile that can only be described by I put my home on fire, so I could eat all the flames and all the bright blaze is in my teeth now. Because something is burning and you are becoming ashes, but you love this. You love that boy and he loves you. You’d do it all again. He rests his forehead against yours and you can feel his tears on your face, his hands holding you for dear life.

‘’I love you too.’’

It’s a good thing to hear as you close your eyes.

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[obwjam]

“I watched you from the walls for years, you really can’t embarrass yourself further in front of me.” With Scott Lang please :)

“I watched you from the walls for years, you really can’t embarrass yourself further in front of me.”

yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes A THOUSAND TIMES YES

from this post

———————————————————————

Times were tough at the Lang residence. Scott wasn’t allowed to leave the house, his daughter was only allowed to visit on weekends, and worst of all, he worried about his future. How could an ex-con like him find work again? How could he possibly put behind everything he had been through in Germany? Often times, he sat on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, TV off, staring blankly at the wall.

Other times, he danced.

He wasn’t very good at it, but hey, who was watching? Scott would rev up his ever-growing 80s playlist, crank his speakers up to ten and let his arms flail and his legs go wild. For an hour and forty-six minutes, he would dance and sing and act out fight scenes he had choreographed in his head until he was just about ready to pass out.

Today was an especially stressful day. Cassie was sick and didn’t want to come, so for the first Saturday afternoon in a while, Scott was alone. There really wasn’t anything good on TV, and he had a nightmare the night before. If the good vibes wouldn’t come to him, he would make them himself.

He was maybe an hour into the playlist when he closed his eyes, spun around on one socked foot, struck a pose, and opened his eyes to the most confusing sight he had ever seen.

You were, in a word, fascinated with this human. For whatever reason, he never left the house anymore, which made borrowing close to impossible, but he was boisterous and goofy and just the right amount of weird. Eating cereal and crying at black and white Spanish movies at 10 p.m. was not normal human behavior, but it was normal for this one.

The dancing was especially entertaining. It was like a free show every day. The music was catchy and you had learned the words. Sometimes, you even danced with him. You discovered this crack in the old wood that allowed you to sit in its threshold and observe the human.

You were so caught up in the music that when Scott’s eyes landed on you, it took you a few seconds to realize what was going on.

Though Scott was staring right at you, he still couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. A tiny person? In his house? He squinted — no, it wasn’t Hank or Hope. They didn’t appear to be wearing a suit, either. Just some makeshift clothing. Was this a new Avenger with shrinking powers, sent to spy on him? Was it the government?

For some reason, you weren’t very scared. Years of watching the human from afar told you that he was a very relaxed person. He wasn’t overly excitable and didn’t seem to have a malicious bone in his body. You certainly didn’t mean to be seen, but it also didn’t seem like the worst possible thing that could have happened. It almost felt inevitable.

Scott stared at you, mouth agape and a thousand thoughts swirling around his mind like a hurricane. He realized he was still stuck in a ridiculous pose, so he put his arms back to his side and straightened himself. He should have figured there were real-life tiny people. Why else would Hank want to build shrinking technology?

You were staring back, mouth also agape and equally fascinated by what was in front of you. But Scott didn’t think you’d break the ice, so it was up to him.

“Um... hi,” Scott said, awkwardly giving a small wave. “What are you doing in my house?”

You tilted your head. For a human, he didn’t seem to be very surprised at what he was seeing. You lifted your arm and grabbed onto the wood for support as you spoke up. “Uh... I live here.”

“You live here? Last time I checked, I live here. Oh, no, they didn’t take my house away, did they?”

“What?” you blurted. “Who’s they?”

“Woo didn’t send you here, did he?”

“Woo? Woo who?”

“Jeez, you don’t need to act so excited about it.”

“Hold up!” you yelled, throwing your hands up. Scott pressed his lips together. “What... what are you talking about?”

“You’re government, aren’t you? Here to keep tabs on me, make sure I’m not breaking the Accords?”

“Government?” You blinked in disbelief. “You think I work for the government?”

“Well...” Scott started to attempt an explanation, but couldn’t really find one. “Why else would you be here?”

“I told you. I live here.”

“...so you’re not government.”

“Oh brother,” you mumbled to yourself, taking an exasperated seat. “Um. No?”

“...You wouldn’t happen to be an Avenger, would you?”

“An Avenger? Am I missing something here?”

“Well excuse me for trying to come up with an explanation as to why there’s someone sitting on my wall who’s two inches tall!”

“Hey, I’m four inches, thank you very much,” you scoffed.

Scott ran a hand through his hair. This wasn’t going very well at all. You sighed and took a breath. You could understand why he’d be so flustered.

“No, I’m not government. Or an Avenger. I’m just... a regular borrower.”

Scott stared at you blankly, trying to piece together what a borrower could be, before it dawned on him and his eyes went wide. “Oh wow. You’re really just that small!”

“I didn’t think that was even in question.”

“Gosh, sorry, that’s really embarrassing of me.” He let out a laugh. “An Avenger. What was I thinking?”

His laugh made you laugh. “I watched you from the walls for years, you really can’t embarrass yourself further in front of me.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve done a lot of embarrassing things in my life. Being put in a maximum security prison’s definitely up there. I’m used to small jails, you know?”

You gave him a quizzical stare.

“This ankle monitor is pretty bad, too, though I— wait a second. Did you say you’ve been watching me for years? ”

You gulped. You thought he either didn’t hear that part or didn’t care.

“I—um, I mean, I was just — I was speaking metaphorically—”

Scott’s expression immediately softened. “Woah, hey, I’m not mad!” He realized he was gazing down at you, and he lowered himself ever so slightly to be at your eye level. Now, he could see the way you gripped the wall protectively. “I’m just... confused. What do you mean you’ve watched me from the walls?”

“It means I live in your walls!” you cried, not realizing how shaky your voice had gotten. You steadied your breathing before continuing. “That’s what borrowers do. We live in the walls of houses.”

“Like mice?”

You sniffed a laugh. “Yes, like mice. Which I help keep away from here, mind you. When was the last time you saw a mouse around here?”

“Oh, gosh, I can’t even remember. Years ago.” You smirked and raised your eyebrow, and once it clicked, Scott’s eyes lit up.

“That’s so cool!” Scott smiled. You knew he was a quirky human, but even you were a bit surprised at how nonchalant he was being. “Do you use those little toothpicks that look like a sword?”

“There are toothpicks that look like swords?”

“Oh yeah!” Scott grinned. “They’d be perfectly your size, actually.”

“Huh. Y’know, that might actually be helpful to shoo away beetles and spiders.”

Scott grimaced. He had gotten used to ants, but spiders is where he drew the line. “Oh, gross.”

“It’s just a part of the job,” you shrugged. There was an awkward pause before you spoke again. “I, um. I’m sorry for startling you.”

“No, no,” Scott shook his head, “I’m sorry for making you listen to the same music all the time!”

“No, it’s fine, I... I actually kinda like it,” you blushed. “Usually, borrowers keep themselves hidden. Most humans aren’t as... entertaining as you.”

Scott smiled, not even realizing that maybe that wasn’t a compliment. It felt exhilarating just to have a face-to-face conversation with someone who wasn’t his family or was legally obligated to talk to him.

“You wanna come to the living room?” he asked suddenly. You furrowed your brow. “It’ll be more comfortable than sitting on that ledge.”

“Well, I can’t exactly sit on the couch,” you said slowly, meekly gesturing at yourself with your head.

“You can sit on the table, it’s fine! I’ve got snacks.”

“Snacks...” you repeated. Even though this went against every single borrower code you knew of, it felt stupid to pass up this offer. If the human wasn’t going to hurt you, then why not make him your ally?

“Sure, why not,” you said finally, standing up. Scott couldn’t help but stare at you in awe.

“Here,” he said, standing back up to his full height and sticking his hand out in front of you. “I can carry you there!”

“Oh...” you said, staring at the hand hesitantly. “I can just walk, you know—”

“Psh! That’ll take too long. Trust me.” You didn’t know why he would know anything about that, but frankly, his weird choice of words was the last thing on your mind. Scott took notice. “Oh, you’re... sorry, I didn’t mean to assume. It’s just right across the hall, we don’t have to go far at all. It’ll be fine.”

You gave him a skeptical look, but at this point, you didn’t have much of a choice. This is what you wanted, anyway.

“I guess this is the one drawback,” you muttered, keeping a firm grip on the wall as you lowered yourself onto his palm. “Humans can’t take no for an answer.”

“What was that?”

“Oh, uh, I—I said. Quite the view from up here.”

“Hah, yeah, I know!”

There it is again, you thought. That weird choice of words.

The trip to the living room was, as promised, short. You were only in his hand for about 15 seconds before you hopped off onto the familiar sight of the coffee table. The bowl of peanuts and candy was filled to the brim, as usual, but you supposed you should act like you’ve never been here before.

“So,” Scott said, reaching into the bowl and popping some M&M’s into his mouth before flopping onto the couch. “What’s your name? I bet you already know mine.”

“I’m (Y/n),” you said, eyeing the bowl. “Can I...”

“Oh, go ahead!” Scott smiled. He watched in delight as you grabbed a peanut that was larger than a football. You bit into it like an apple, and Scott could hardly suppress his grin.

“This is amusing for you?” you asked with a smirk. Scott immediately shook his head, but the smile was still present. “Yeah, I guess I probably look hilariously small to you.”

“Well... only a little.” Scott leaned back into the couch cushion. “So you’ve really been inside my walls this whole time and I had no idea?”

“Yup,” you said with a mouthful of peanut. “Been here for a long time.”

“How do you even live? Eat? Bathe?!”

You turned your gaze to the table. “You won’t like the answer.”

Scott thought about it for a moment, but it didn’t take long for him to connect the dots. “Oh. Oh.”

“Yeah,” you blushed. “But it’s either take crumbs off your counter or starve, so. I choose not to starve.”

“Well, you’re welcome to have dinner with me from now on. I cook just for myself anyway, it’ll be nice to have some company.”

“About that... why are you here all the time? You used to only be here at night.”

Scott sighed deeply. “It’s a long story.”

He seemed uncharacteristically upset about that, so you cleared your throat and pivoted back to what he was saying before. “You’d really let me eat with you?”

“Sure, why not?” Scott seemed genuinely surprised that you would even ask.

“I mean, this has gotta seem a little... weird to you, does it not? In fact, I — well, there are a lot of stories about humans discovering borrowers, and they’re not often pleasant. You... you don’t really seem to care.”

Scott pursed his lips. “That’s another long story.”

“Oh.” Jeez, what is up with this guy?

“I mean, if you’ve really been... in my walls all this time...” He shuddered before continuing. “Then you know how lonely it’s been around here. Heck, it probably gets really lonely all by yourself in the walls, too.”

You nodded.

“Well, I’ve got a lot of questions for you, and I know you’ve got a lot for me... I won’t force you to stay if you don’t want to, but I think — it might be nice to get to know each other, right?”

You gave Scott an almost incredulous look. Maybe all those human tales were just old folk stories of days past, meant to scare children into staying close to home. You were hardly nervous that Scott had any malicious intent. You just almost couldn’t believe this was happening.

“What about your daughter? Isn’t she supposed to be coming this weekend? I’d rather her, uh, not see me.”

Scott sat up a bit. “You know about Cassie?”

“Um. Lived here for years, remember?”

“Right, right. Uh, n-no, no, she’s sick, she’s not coming. Huh.” Scott shook his head. “Wow. You must know, like, everything about me, then.”

Your face flushed red. “I mean, yes and no. I don’t just sit and stare at you to pass the time. It’s-it’s actually pretty strange for me too. We’re not supposed to talk to humans. It’s kind of the big number one rule.”

“What normally happens?”

“Well.” You paused, looking up at Scott’s expectant face. It was hard to hold eye contact, and your gaze flickered back to the table. “It’s a long story.”

Scott huffed a laugh. “I get it. Looks like we both have our own baggage.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Look, if you wanna... go back into that hole in the wall, you can. I told you, I won’t make you stay. But the offer is always there. I’m probably just gonna order a pizza tonight. You ever had pizza?”

You pursed your lips. Should you really be telling him all the things you’ve stolen from right under his nose?

Scott sighed. Maybe this wasn’t the weirdest thing for him, but he knew he couldn’t say the same for you. Your sideways glances had grown increasingly nervous ever since he brought you to the living room. You carried yourself well, but it was clear you were uneasy about all of this.

Wordlessly, Scott placed his hand down in front of you. He frowned when you winced at it.

“It’s quicker if I just bring you back,” he said sheepishly.

You picked your half-eaten peanut off the table and cleared your throat. “I-I’m sorry. I think I underestimated how odd this would feel. You... you’re just, really different than the human I lived with growing up. In a good way.”

Scott smiled weakly. “Just wait ‘til you get to know me.”

You laughed as you climbed onto his hand. You sat down for balance as he stood up, unable to take his eyes off you. You stared straight ahead as he took the short journey back, and in a few moments, you were right back where you started.

Staring at each other.

“Well (Y/n), it was nice—”

“You know,” you said, raising your voice to cut him off. “I have had pizza before. But I’ve never tried ice cream.”

Scott gasped. “Never had ice cream?! Lucky for you, I’ve got some chocolate in the freezer— oh. Oh! You... you want to have some dessert later?”

You smiled amusingly. “You catch on quick.”

“Yeah, it’s a specialty of mine,” Scott said, stretching his arms in the air. “Gosh, it’s already 7:30. How about ice cream at 9?”

“I, uh, don’t have a clock with me,” you admitted. “Why don’t you just... knock when you’re ready?”

Scott chuckled. “Knocking on the walls to my own house? People’ll start to think I’m crazy.”

You blinked at Scott, Scott blinked at you, and you both burst out laughing. For a moment, you forgot that Scott was a hundred feet tall and he forgot you could fit in his palm. It shouldn’t have been that funny, but it was. It all was.

Scott wiped a tear from his eye and sighed. “Oh, man. Okay. I should order before they close. See you soon?”

You smiled. In between the bad jokes, the awkward silences and the fits of laugher, you decided all this weirdness was worth it.

“Yeah. See you soon, Scott.”

#scott is the nonchalant KING #just so easy to launch into conversation with #nothing like two people who think they should be feeling weird who dont actually feel all that weird #this is all just one big excuse for me to practice dialogue #obwrites #marvel g/t