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#w concept to me and I can’t explain to you how much I actually hated it so very very much

raccoonfallsharder · 3 months

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i like to imagine that if one were to give Rocket a sudoku or crosswords puzzle, he can fill them all out at an unbelievable rate. like, you'd introduce him to the concept of sudoku, how each row and each column and each 3×3 grid should have nine distinct and non-repeating numerical digits–

but you haven't finished explaining the rules and Rocket's already filling out the empty boxes with his pencil like ticking off items on a laundry list. not a minute later, it's solved. he then gets confused at your jaw dropping while showing you the filled-out paper puzzle.

"what? you're- you just, fill out the thing with numbers, right? what's so surprising?"

i love this! im sorry i didn’t see this ask sooner but YES. thank you so much for this PERFECT mental image lol. i am actually working on a oneshot that’s not about this EXACTLY but is about rocket’s brain in relation to some of these things lol. the way he sees shit.

sudoku, i think, is easy for him. you explain the rules once and he just looks at the grid and he knows where everything goes. it’s like looking at a bomb or a gun. all the pieces have a home — it only takes one glance with soft eyes to see where each thing fits.

word searches, too. once he knows what a word is supposed to look like, he can take in a box of letters with that same glance and be like — oh, there’s fifteen words. sometimes he finds words that aren’t even intentionally included.

the trick with both these puzzles is that rocket does not get caught up in the sequence of things. he doesn’t go line-by-line or letter-by-letter. he has a more holistic way of understanding things — a big-picture kind of guy. looks at them and says “this is where the thing fits.”

now, crossword puzzles? those i’m less sure of. i think rocket would be the type to be annoyed by “bad clues.” his vocabulistics ain’t always standard, so to speak, and i bet he sometimes makes up words. plus, having to remember how they’re supposed to be spelled? that’s a problem. sometimes the clue will be like “more yellow than blue; a French liqueur” and instead of writing in “chartreuse” rocket is like “greeeeeeen” because why the fuck not, this game is stupid. he finishes in record time but when you look at it, most of the answers are like… only sorta-conceptually-correct? and usually with creative spellings? occasionally he’ll throw in a cluster of letters in kree?

“so i can see you answered this column with crow but you used a character i don’t recognize for the w and it’s overlapping with the g in lasagna. and uhm neither of those are technically right.”

“yeah in shi’ar that letter makes a sound like wuh or guh. little further back in the throat though.”

“uh huh. but this is, uhm, a US-english crossword.”

“so?”

“…good talk.”

now maybe when he’s a little older, and the Star Kids have grown up and have Star Kids of their own, and Old Man Rocket is sitting outside a cantina on Knowhere making origami versions of cosmo for them — maybe in between he pulls out the giant book of puzzles pete sent him for christmas last year. adjusts his reading glasses and strokes a claw over his grizzled whiskers. the kids come up and ask him what he’s working on today and he shows them and teaches them how to do each one.

“this one you can’t repeat any numbers.”

“that seems hard.”

“nah, it’ll be easy for you. you’re almost as much of a genius as me. now, this one you gotta find these words in this graph.”

“okay. i think i like this better. what about that one?”

“ah, i used to hate those ones but now they’re my favorite.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. for these ones, you just make shit up, and you bend all the rules till your answer works.”

#rfh asks #hyperjorts #rocket raccoon headcanons #rfh headcanons #asks are my favorites #rocket raccoon #rfh fluff

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padfootastic · 11 months

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hey, so i've seen you lean into the cold arrogant black heir version of sirius lately, and i agree to an extent, because he was pretty intimidating and arrogant and didn't really care much about the public other than his people, but that doesn't really mean that he's this stoic, serious guy either right? he's pretty funny, definitely a troublemaker, and way too charming to stay in trouble for long. but at the same time, people know he's dangerous and should not be messed with because under all the charm, there absolutely was an element of 'fuck with me and i'll kill you'. and i know this sounds super contradictory but that's the whole point about sirius' character. he's a walking talking contradiction. he's so beautifully complex that turning him into this heir version is contradicting his entire character. what do you think? i would love to see you elaborate on this.

also, what do you think his humour is like? i've always thought of it as super sarcastic and dry. he def has a dark sense of humour, and he's so so sharp witted. anyway sorry if my ask was too long, i can talk for hours and hours about sirius.

no!!! anon no ask is too long when it’s about sirius. i can do the same (i have, in fact, done the same) it’s so valid.

i don’t think it’s such a contradiction at all, actually! i personally see sirius as this: a guy with a lot of masks, partially bc it’s been trained into him & partially bc he’s had to be. and i think he defaults to this cold, arrogant one because it’s the one he’s had longest—but around the right people, it fully melts away. the marauders and lily, yes but especially james and harry. that’s why i keep mentioning the outsider pov of it, people getting shocked when they see the difference in his behaviour. it’s why i wrote the patronus fic lolol.

i actually think that he had a lot…issues with the ‘heir’ version of himself (and yes, that’s a fanon concept i’ve absorbed entirely bc i love) because of what it represents and he tries hard to break away from it at all times. he probably went through an entire phase of teenage rebellion where he was doing everything against his family’s teachings bc it felt good. but, i love it when people can’t run away from their nature as much as they want to, so i always end up giving him some traits that basically make him hate himself looking into the mirror lmao

as for his humor, oh for sure!! this one’s definitely canon—he has a dry, sarcastic humor. (funnily, this is where i see a lot of similarities b/w him and harry for some reason) i think it can tend towards self deprecating sometimes. he’s also—hm. u can see his class in his words, and i think that might be true of his humor as well tho idk how to explain that better lol i think he’s the kind of person who’s so good at passive aggressiveness that you’ll never realise he insulted u to ur face (we have a phrase for it here—kaat ke haath mein dedi; i think sirius would be ace at that). and going off that, i do think his humor was also based on…belittling? other people. or rather, at the expense of other people in that way popular kids do sometimes. like him w the rat in swm, i think. casually cruel. a little mean.

#sirius black #sometimes i feel like i’m mean to sirius #and then i remember he’s my comfort character actually so it’s all good #i can never be mean to james tbh he’s too…paavam #but sirius? such a good character to mess around with #but like—if you’ve read my dark sirius fic—it’s kind of based on this premise of sirius and the heir being two sides of the same coin #and how he struggles with it but end of the day if he NEEDS to it’s not hard for him to wear that mask #idk i wanna okay around w it more #bc i think that balance of like. ruthlessness and tenderness is so so based #and i think sirius would really mail that #nail*#but yes. massive agree that sirius is made up of so much nuance #it’s so funny bc he genuinely gets a good well rounded characterisation lol #it’s mostly coherent too i’d say #but then She had to go and ruin it all 😔😔#ugh anyway #come talk to me about sirius anytime anon! he’s my fav boy <3 #pen’s asks

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leossmoonn · 2 years

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Opposites Attract

masterlist

pairing - stefan salvatore x fem!reader

type - fluff, angst

note / request - requested by anon “AHH ok a concept- you and stefan are both show/movie nerds and you find out he watches the same stuff you do and all but you're from a hunter family so you're supposed to hate him and all but you really don't want to break contact with him so you guys call each other while watching a show or smth together and then banter over each other's opinions over the phone and this routine goes on till days until you guys decide to have an actual sleepover at your place and then you fall asleep on his shoulders while watching some drama show and arguing about it 🥺” okay so obvs I added more to this. honestly I’m not really caught up w the tvd hunter lore but from what I’ve seen it’s kinda impossible for a hunter to love a vampire if their mission is to kill them… but let me bend the rules for this fic lol

summary - you’re a hunter and stefan is a vampire, so why do you two fall for each other?

warnings / includes - mild language, violence, steamy make out sesh, food and alcohol consumption

————

*gif isn’t mine*

You knew you should hate him. You should want to kidnap him, drag him into the forest, stab his heart with a stake. But you couldn’t. The first time you looked at him and into his eyes you couldn’t.

You were one step away from ending his life. Your hand was around his neck, your foot on his chest as to hold him to the ground. You had already used wooden bullets to penetrate his skin, weakening him with each shot. Now he was bleeding on the ground, begging you to have mercy on him.

“Please, I-I have a brother that you will be happier to kill. He’s an asshole and —”

“Ratting our family? Now you really deserve to die. For real this time,” you remark.

You hold the stake up in the air, ready to plunge it into his dead heart. But you stop at the last second as your eyes meet his. Something about them makes you halt all your movements. The sincerity in the and the true fear they held. The kindness and softness that was knitted between his eyebrows, although he looked scared shitless. His eyes were pretty green, matching the color of the pine trees you were surrounded by. His pupils were wide and you could see your reflection in them. You didn’t realize how ugly you looked with the face of a murderer.

“Are you going to kill me or what?” He asks.

You snap back to reality, stumbling backwards. You allow him to get free and you expect him to try and kill you, but all he does is get up slowly, putting his hands up in caution.

“What are you doing? Is this some game you’re playing?” Although he puts on a brave face, you can hear the panic in his voice as it breaks and shakes.

“I…I…” you fail to make words. You can’t stop staring at him. Even though he got free and had the chance to kill you, he didn’t. There was something so different about him. You could feel it.

“Are you okay?” His body relaxes and he takes a step over to you.

“You’re asking me if I’m okay?” You scoff. “Well, you were just about to kill me and you didn’t. Now you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he explains.

“I just… I don’t know. I know I should kill you. I should want to, and I do, but I can’t,” you say.

He raises his brows. “Is this some kind of trick to catch me off guard?”

You shake your head. “No. I’m just as shocked and confused as you are. This has never happened to me before.”

“I don’t know much about hunters, but I’ve never heard of one breaking their mission.”

“Me neither,” you say. You then groan, running your hands all over your face. “My dad is going to be so pissed. He’s expecting me to come home with your head on the stake.”

He chuckles, “well, that sounds like a great reward.” “Yeah, to him,” you sigh. “Look, I don’t know how long I’ll feel this way, so I’ll just leave. You can thank me for sparring your life. Pray that you won’t run into me again.”

You spin on your heel, walking a few steps before he stops you.

“What’s your name?” He asks. You laugh sourly. “Why do you want to know?”

“You showed me kindness which means there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

“You always use cliché phrases.”

“It’s kind of my thing.”

You turn around slowly, smiling at him. “Like ratting your brother out is your thing?”

“If you knew him, you’d know he deserves it.”

Something in you wanted to invite yourself to his home, meeting his brother only to get to know him more. You knew that the fact you didn’t kill him meant something. The sick feeling in your gut meant something.

Could you afford to be selfish and seek it out?

“I’ll take your word for it,” you chuckle. “I gotta get home. See you never — probably.”

“Wait, don’t go,” he frowns. “Do you like being in the company of danger?” You raise your brows.

“That’s another one of my things,” he smirks.

“Well, good for you, but I don’t like mixing business with pleasure. If you want to keep living, then I should go.”

“I can keep living if you stay.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“You won’t know if you don’t try.”

“I’m not willing to take that chance. Look, you’re a nice guy, anyone can see that. You don’t deserve to die, and I really wish I wasn’t who I was because, admittedly, I am interested in you. I don’t know why, but there’s something about you that pulls me to you. But we’re so different and nice people don’t deserve bad things.”

He smiles, “you’re interested in me, huh?”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t let that go to your head.”

“I won’t.” He crosses his arms against his chest. “But it does make me optimistic.”

“About what?”

“That you’ll say yes to having lunch with me tomorrow.”

You snort, “fat chance.” “C’mon, it’s been ten minutes and you still haven’t killed me. Do you feel an urge?” He asks.

“No, but —”

“So take a chance! I know the circumstances are weird, but, you meet the best people in the most unconventional situations.”

He wasn’t wrong. You let out a sigh as you thought over your decisions. You could say yes. You two could potentially develop a friendship, maybe even a romance if your feeling for him became that deep. But on the other end, you could say yes and eventually kill him. Not on purpose, of course, but your instincts could suddenly kick in at any given moment and you wouldn’t see him as the man you would get to know. You would see him as a vampire: vile, dead, a menace to society. And then you could say no. You could never see him again and always have him in the back of your mind as the man who changed you for a fraction of time.

“You don’t have to decide now, but if you do say yes, I’ll be at The Grill at noon tomorrow. Show up if you want. No shame in not showing up, though,” he says.

“Okay,” you nod slowly. “Alright,” he smiles. “I’m Stefan, by the way.”

“Y/n.” You give him a small smile. “Hopefully I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says.

“Don’t count on it.”

Oh, but he did. That night you couldn’t stop thinking about him. He was the last thing you thought of before you went to bed and the first thing you thought about when he woke up. You decided that it was a sign and that you should at least take a chance. And so you did.

You walk into The Grill, looking around for Stefan’s face. You found him in a corner booth, sipping on a glass of bourbon.

“You day drink a lot?” You question as you walk up to him.

“Nah,” he shakes his head. “I just gotta settle my nerves, you know.”

“Oh, are you afraid I’ll kill you?” You grin. “Nope. I’m just nervous. You’re a pretty girl and I want this date to go well,” he explains.

Your face warms and you look down shyly, sliding into the booth. “A date, huh?”

“What did you think this was?”

“Mm, hang out? Chilling with a friend? Getting free food.”

“Oh, you think I’m gonna pay?”

“If you’re a gentleman,” you smile. “Lucky for you, I am,” he smiles back.

“It’s okay. I can pay for my own food,” you say. “No please, I insist. I was the one who invited you,” he says.

You nod, “alright. Next time I’ll pay then.”

“Oh, next time?” He grins.

“No promises,” you wink.

You two have a great time. No surprise there. You spend two hours at the restaurant before you realize what time it was.

“I gotta get home,” you say. “Is your curfew this early?” He asks.

“No, I just have something I need to do for my dad.”

“Let me guess, I don’t wanna know?” He asks. You chuckle, “probably not.”

“Okay. Well, when can I see you next?”

“Who says this is gonna happen again?” You smirk. “You always give people a hard time?” He raises his brow.

“Only when I like them a lot,” you remark. He smiles, “great to know, then.”

You force yourself to leave. It was honestly painful. You wanted to stay and talk to him. You wanted to get to know him more, laugh more, smile more. This was the first time in a while you had actually felt like yourself. You felt free and safe. You felt like you could be someone else than the hunter your father raised you to be. It was refreshing that someone saw you in a different light for once.

You and Stefan decided to continue your friendship in secret. If your dad found out, then he would literally kill you. If Stefan’s friends found out, they would also kill you. It was better to live your lives in secret for a good while.

You two usually hung out either at The Grill, in the woods, or sometimes if you two were lucky, you would be able to sneak him into your ranch house for a few hours during the day. You two would just talk for hours on hours on hours about everything and anything. You learned so much about him. You could retell his stories like you lived through them, too. You weren’t much of an open book, but you slowly told him bits and pieces of your childhood and your life growing up with your family until he was also able to tell your stories like they were his own.

Tonight was a special night, though. Your father was out of town and your brothers and sisters were either at friends’ houses or with your father. You had the whole night to yourself, which meant that you were finally able to have Stefan over in your house.

“This is the kitchen,” you say as you walk him around.

“This is nice,” Stefan comments. He runs his hands over the marble finish of your counter tops. “It looks really neat. Do you guys clean a lot?”

“No, our kitchen is just never used,” you chuckle. “We’re always eating out and stuff. The only homemade meals I’ve had are from my grandma, and she’s dead, so.”

“Right,” he nods. “What if I make you something?”

“Oh, it’s okay. My dad will come home and smell the food and definitely know you were here.”

“But you deserve a home cooked meal. And you’ve tasted my past. You know I’m a good cook.”

You smile, “you are. But I’m just worried that —”

“You, worried? That’s not an emotion I ever picture you feeling.”

You laugh, “I know I put up a front, but it’s different with my dad. I don’t want to take a chance at exposing you and us.”

“I promise I’ll be quick and I’ll clean everything. It’ll be as if I was never here.”

You hum in thought. “Alright. Please don’t make a mess.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

He makes you your favorite dish. You sit on your island table and watch him cook. He was so skillful and graceful with each movements. The way he cut the vegetables, seasoned the sauce, even poured the wine. You realized that there was never going to be a better sight than him cooking. He was in his element.

“This tastes amazing,” you say with a mouth full of food. He smiles, “I’m happy you like it.”

“Oh, I love it. You should cook for me more. Can I hire you as my personal chef?” You ask.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be, baby.”

You grow shy at the pet name, ducking your head down and taking another bite of food.

You two weren’t an official couple. Despite almost kissing and always cuddling and holding hands. You two never saw other people, either. You didn’t know what you were waiting for. You weren’t the type of girl to wait for the guy to make the first move. You were assertive and bold and didn’t like to waste time. But like with everything, it was different with Stefan.

You enjoyed taking it slow. If he was someone else, you would’ve already slept with him. But you liked talking for hours, holding his hands, sitting in silence. You relished being in his arms and spending uninterrupted time with him. It was heaven.

“When will your dad be back again?” He asks. “Tomorrow around noon, but he might come home sooner, so you’ll have to leave earlier if that’s okay,” you answer.

“All good,” he nods. “Can I, uh, see the upstairs after you’re done?”

“Yeah, of course,” you nod. You finish your dinner, washing the dishes quickly before you have a tour of the rest of your house.

“This is my dad’s room,” you slowly open the door.

“Wow, it’s big,” Stefan says. His breath catches in his throat as he sees heads mounted on the walls.

“Yeah, he’s real proud of his work,” you mumble. You hold Stefan’s hand, pulling him away to the next room. “This is my brother’s. He’s the oldest.”

You walk down the hall, showing Stefan everyone’s room and the bathroom before going to yours. He smiles as he sees the picture of you and your mom on front of your door.

“You look cute in this picture,” he says. “Thanks. I was seven,” you reply. You open your door, stepping in and letting Stefan see all of it.

Your room was similar to the others, but also different. It was lighter and smaller. Stefan could feel the homeliness in it.

“Your room is really you,” he comments. You chuckle, “thanks. I try.”

“These your siblings?” Stefan points to a big family portrait on the wall.

“Yep,” you sigh. “We get family portraits done every year to show our “growth”,” you use air quotations.

“You have some from when you’re a kid, then?”

“Yeah, and no, you can’t see them.”

“Aw, why not?”

“One, it’s embarrassing. Two, I don’t know where they are.”

“I see. Well, looks like I’ll have to bring a search party in here.”

You smile, “good luck getting past me.”

“I think I’ll survive,” he smirks. “So, what do you wanna do now?” You ask.

He shrugs, “whatever you want. We have the whole house to ourselves.”

“Wanna watch a movie then?” You suggest. “Sure. You can pick,” he nods.

You two go back downstairs and you put in your favorite movie. You pop some popcorn, snuggling into Stefan’s side.

You two cuddled in silence for half of the movie. You began to feel tired and you put your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his middle and using him as a pillow. He smiles down at you, his chest warming at the sight of your pretty face snuggling into his shirt. Your scent immersed him, making him focus on you instead of the movie.

He hugs you closer, gently resting his cheek onto your head. He starts to play with the hem of your sweater, shamelessly staring at your lips.

“Y/n?” He says a little bit above a whisper. “Yeah?” You hum, looking up at him. You notice where his eyes are and best begins to rise to your cheeks.

“Thanks for not killing me yet,” he says. You smile, “it’s not hard. You don’t make me want to kill you.”

“I’m glad,” he laughs.

Your eyes flicker down to his lips and you find yourself wondering how he tastes, how he kisses. Would he feel as good as you imagined? Would it be as magical as you wished?

“Can I kiss you?” He asks.

You look up at his eyes. Those beautiful, kind, green eyes you love so much. You don’t verbally answer him. You just lean in, closing the gap between you two.

One of his hands wraps around the back of your head and cradles your neck. His other arm supports the small of your back, pressing your chest up against his. You wrap your arms around his neck, running your fingers through his soft hair. You hum in content as he moves you onto his lap. You straddle his waist, pulling him towards you to deepen the kiss.

It felt better than you had imagined. It was even more magical than you could wish for. He kissed you gently, but you didn’t miss the passion behind each movement. He held you like he was hugging you. Like he never wanted to let go. His lips fit between yours perfectly, just like a kissing puzzle piece. And he was one hell of a kisser, too.

You pull away, your lungs begging for air. You rest your forehead against his, a smile lighting up your face.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he breathes out.

“Me, too,” you laugh.

“I wanna do it again,” he says. You nod against him. “Let’s take it to the bedroom, yeah?”

He grins, “that would be a dream come true.”

————

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#stefan salvatore #stefan salvatore imagine fluff #stefan salvatore x reader #stefan salvatore x reader fluff #stefan salvatore x reader angst #tvd #the vampire diaires

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 3 years

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in which harry’s your soulmate and you don’t quite know that yet.

a/n: hello angels! i bring you soulmate!harry for my loveliest friend @sweetcreatureinthedark ‘s fic party! i chose the prompt “i’ve been in love with you, i’ll be in love with you.” i’ll be honest, this was tough to write, and somewhat was testing my writing abilities lol, but we made it through and I love it! so i hope you all do too! be kind and pls leave feedback and rb! :’)

thank you to @sunflowers-styles for beta reading and putting up with the mess lol love you always <3

WORD COUNT: 15.4k of friends to lovers, soulmates, physicaltherapist!harry x professor!yn

WARNINGS: slight angst, mentions of heart condition and flatlining

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘YOUR BEATING HEART’ i’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

There was a saying that your Nonna had always said to you ever since you were a little girl, one that she made sure was ingrained into your mind for the rest of your life.

‘Someone is destined to your mind, soul, and heart.’

Your mother, Kath, had told you that she had repeated those words ever since you were barely a year old. Nonna had said them so much that they could’ve practically been your first words. She would say that statement along with: ‘There is someone out there who already loves you, they’re just waiting for the right moment. That right moment will be up to the universe.’

The concept of soulmates has been around for thousands of years, and Nonna was such a sucker for it. Having met hers when she was sixteen years old, she made sure she taught her family the power of having a soulmate. She told Kath that if she wasn’t around for you, then Kath was supposed to teach you. Luckily, she’s still around though because that woman is one of the best you’ll ever know.

When you were old enough to go to school, the teachers taught you about soulmates as well. When you turn thirteen, you’re able to find who your soulmate is because the power inside of you ignites, guiding you through the world to find your person. The universe was…weird like that; teaching children that they were going to find love at such a young age. You were taught that you were born to be loved by someone, and since you didn’t know any better, you listened. Nonna then started to explain the meaning and importance of soulmates. You were fascinated by it as she would explain it so enthusiastically to you while you listened with wide and curious eyes, making sure you didn’t miss a single word of what she said.

As a shy ten-year-old, you couldn’t wait till you were older so you could find your soulmate, thinking it would be a fun adventure to see who you would click with. Nonna always said that ‘when you know, you know.’

Once you hit seventeen, however, you slowly believed less and less in the idea of a soulmate, and maybe that was because you were trying to force the feeling of trying to click with every person you met, but you lived through your adolescent years listening to your friends rave about how their soulmate was so perfect when yours hadn’t even shown up. They were all smiles while you were all frowns, a disappointed look was planted on your face when you would come to realize you were probably going to be alone and that the universe had forgotten about you.

At eighteen, living in a world of soulmates, you believed you didn’t have one.

That’s how you lived your life.

When you went to college, the idea of being bound to another person was pushed to the back of your mind and you started to live your life more freely. You didn’t have the constant pressure in your head, telling you to find your one true love because you believed there wasn’t a ‘one true love.’ Your Nonna was a bit sad to see you live thinking that no one was out there to love you, but you realized that you didn’t want to sit and wait around for the perfect person, you wanted to venture out.

Throughout college, you lived…a lot. You met new people, hooked up a bit, and didn’t have the recurring thought in your head about your particular soulmate.

That was until you met Eric.

You met him your last year of college; and he was a year older than you. You met him on campus while he was meeting up with one of his old professors whose classroom you just happened to be in as he walked in, and you had immediately taken a liking to him. Besides the fact that you were sexually attracted to him, you didn’t think you would see him again until you met him again at a coffee shop that was not too far from campus. Eric invited you to take a seat with him, to which you said yes, and the rest was history. You and Eric were together for three years. In that time you were able to find a stable job, and you lived life together before he proposed to you. You thought life couldn’t get better than this--you had the greatest fiance and a job you didn’t hate, which was teaching Anatomy at a community college.

Eric had made you believe in love. Soulmates, however? Not quite. Although at times it felt like he was your soulmate, that was just you trying to force something again. He was your soulmate without all of the characteristics a soulmate would have.

Nonna had always told you that your eyes would sparkle while looking at them, so intently to where you couldn’t stop staring at them, thinking you two were the only ones in the room even with so many people around. That you would feel the spark igniting between you and your soulmate, causing your body to feel warm as the physical pull would bring you together. That your heart would beat ten times faster when you knew who that person was, and that the erratic beating wouldn't seem to stop because your soulmate’s heart was also beating at the same pace.

When it came to Eric, you were able to look away and you were aware of your surroundings. When you were close to him, you didn’t feel that magnetic pull. When you looked at him, your heart seemed to calm down to where you didn’t feel like it was pounding through your chest. When you looked at him…you didn’t think he was your soulmate anymore. It’s crazy to even think that you thought he was before when you didn’t believe in the concept, but there was no attraction or pull towards him, and the timing could have been better. Actually, it could be so much better.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this,” you muttered into the mic as several gasps were heard from the family and friends that had gathered for the moment.

You were dressed in a white, lace dress with a veil clipped onto the top of your head. It was your wedding day, and you were telling the supposed love of your life that you couldn’t marry him anymore because the thoughts about soulmates had barged inside of your mind during Eric’s vows, making you think thoughts that you wished you wouldn’t, but you couldn’t help it. Eric wasn’t your soulmate, and you damn well knew that you weren’t his either.

“W-What are you doing?” Eric whispered as he looked at you with wide eyes that told you not to embarrass him right here, right now.

“I’m so sorry, Eric. I can’t marry you,” you said more clearly, not really telling him but also telling the crowd.

The officiant of your wedding was your friend, Vic, and she looked at you with a shocked expression as she was just as speechless as everyone else. You knew they didn’t have to say or ask anything for you to know what they really wanted to say; they wanted to ask you what you were doing and what caused the sudden decision to not marry someone you’ve been with for four years.

You could ask yourself the same question. Better yet, you would like to ask the universe why, especially on your wedding day, why they decided to suddenly pop inside your head, reminding you all of the bullshit people feel when they find their soulmate.

Eric looked at you with worry, eyes slightly watering as if it was his worst nightmare come true. But you couldn’t carry on with this while neglecting the feeling that was inside your heart and mind. You couldn’t marry him as those thoughts were screaming at you, telling you that you made the wrong decision. Those said thoughts were telling you that your true soulmate was out there somewhere, physically and emotionally hurting because their soulmate decided to marry someone else. Your marriage would be ruined entirely if you went through with it.

“I-I’m sorry…” is what you said to him with a pout on your face as he shook his head. You started heading down the aisle, ignoring the disappointed, sad, and angry looks your guests, especially his family, were giving you as you walked away from the altar that held the man you had given four years of your life to.

Once you reached the middle of the aisle, you started to jog. Picking up your dress so you wouldn't trip over it, you started to run as you couldn’t take the way the people were looking at you.

Without glancing back, you headed over to the black Mercedes that waited for the newlyweds on the curb. Your driver, Jackson, had turned around in his seat, smiling but when he didn’t see the groom, his smile disappeared, also noticing that you had a disappointed look on your face as well. You found a clean napkin on the side of the door, asking him if he had a pen.

“How long are you willing to drive?” You asked.

“I’ll take you to wherever you need me to,” he replied. You smiled gratefully, writing down the address that made you feel at home before handing him the napkin.

He immediately started the car before typing in the address into his phone, driving away from the venue that had relied and counted on you being a wife today.

And you didn’t regret your actions for one second.

Soft, cold winds rushed through you as your skin pebbled from the sudden draft while standing against the white wooden railing of the balcony in the main bedroom. The calm waves immediately put you at ease from the anxiety that you were feeling hours prior, as harsh thoughts pushed their way through your head, telling yourself that you were a disappointment—that you disappointed everyone at the venue.

The shakiness of your hands was replaced by the grasp of the railing as you looked out to the distant sunset. The day wasn’t all that sunny, since the sun was setting behind the clouds. There weren’t that many people out on the beach either, but you were glad because you needed to feel like you were the only person on this Earth.

Coming to the beach house was the first thing that came to your mind when you decided to walk out. You knew that Eric wouldn’t find you here because he didn’t know about it, plus you just wanted to be alone without the constant questions that came from your ex-fiancé and your family.

You felt bad, of course you did, and you didn’t know how to begin explaining to Eric that he was just someone that you couldn’t marry because the previously pushed thoughts had come back to your mind right as you stood at the altar. But right now, you were wallowing in fears that overtook your mind, thinking that everyone was going to absolutely hate you, which you think they did anyway once you walked out.

Setting the wine glass down onto the railing, you looked down at the few pedestrians who walked by on the beach, getting in a last-minute venture before it got too dark. You smiled, thinking about the soulmate crap the universe had made you think about your entire life because any of these people could be the person you would love for your entire life, and you wouldn’t even know.

You groaned to yourself, leaning your body away from the railing and putting your forehead on your forearms. You stayed there for a moment, thinking about how exhausted you were, especially since wine makes you tired, including the long day of getting ready all for nothing.

When you stood back up, you had accidentally knocked your glass over the railing, the glass barely making a sound once it landed on the sand.

“Fuck…” you looked over the railing to see where your glass landed before you headed down the stairs. Once you made it near the bottom, you hadn’t seen the last two steps because they were covered by sand, so you completely fell on your face into the sand, making you gasp loudly from the sudden fall.

Laughing hysterically at your fall as you felt the embarrassment on your cheeks, you rolled over onto your back as you closed your eyes and laughed until you cried. You covered your face as you began to sob, feeling truly sorry for yourself. You never meant for this to happen. You were supposed to be happy, and you were sure you ruined someone else’s happiness.

After a few moments, you got up and brushed the sand off your clothes and face, and shook your hair so the excess sand could fall out. You sniffled, walking over to where your wine glass landed before your phone rang in your pocket. It was your mom calling, and you knew you couldn’t ignore it. You were planning to ignore everyone’s calls and texts before you went back to your hometown in just a few days, but it was your mother--you couldn’t hit decline, especially right now.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Hi, my lovely. You okay?” Kath was surprisingly calm because you thought she would’ve been freaking out.

“Hi, Mom. Yeah, I’m good.” You walked back to the stairs and decided to sit on the bottom of the steps as you watched the calming ocean in front of you.

“Can I ask where you are?” She asked hesitantly.

“I’m at Papa’s house and I’m safe. No need to worry,” you reassured, smiling softly, even though she couldn’t see you.

“Okay, good. I figured you were there. I understand you need space, but call me if you need anything, got it?” Kath was always a worrier, like every mom, but she seemed to worry about you a lot more than usual.

“Got it. Love you, Mom.”

“Love you too, my lovely. Oh, and,” she caught you before you were able to hang up. “I get why you did what you did, and I’m not mad. You’ll find them soon, okay?” Your eyes watered a bit, and you nodded, even though she couldn’t see you. You heard Kath blow a kiss through the phone before she hung up. You always loved how your mom was always able to understand you without you having to say anything at all. She was great like that, and you loved her dearly for it.

Pressing decline to what felt like the hundredth call from your in-laws and friends in the last two weeks made you roll your eyes and want to turn your phone off completely.

You knew that you had to call and text these people back eventually, but right now, you didn’t want to explain. You already had the anxiety from your actions weighing you down already, and these people would most likely scream over the phone as they demanded an explanation as to why you did what you did, and you really didn’t need that at the moment.

All you wanted to do was go back to the beach house and sit on the balcony as you watched the ocean; all far away from your problems.

You were unofficially a single woman, and you could look at all the men and women you wanted now that you were single. The nagging voice in your head was constantly bothering you, leaving you no room to think about what you might say to Eric when you meet up with him. He had stopped calling you a week ago, and since you weren’t entirely cruel, you shot him a text, saying that you were fine and that you’ll talk to him when you were ready because quite frankly, you needed to wrap your head around your thoughts. He was a sweetheart in that way, giving you space when you were the one to walk out on him and needed to explain things. You truly didn’t deserve him.

Unlocking the door to Nonna’s house with your spare key, you found her sitting on the couch watching TV. “Hey, Nonna,” you greeted, and she perked her head towards the door.

She softly smiled, getting up from the couch before she walked over to you. She didn’t greet you like she always did, which made you a little nervous because you thought she might be mad at you, but when her arms wrapped around your body, pulling you into a hug, you relaxed.

“Hi, Chip.” Her nickname for you came out with a smile against your shoulder. She had started calling you ‘Chip’ ever since you were a toddler. You had always wanted a bag of chips to munch on, and the nickname seemed to stick because you were still the same.

Nonna pulled back, guiding you to sit with her on the couch. “How are you, love? I haven’t seen you in weeks,” she asked as she pouted, giving you a look of concern.

You smiled to ease her worry. “I’m doing okay. How are you?” You grabbed her hand from her lap to hold it, the gesture making her smile a bit.

“Okay as well. Worried about you. Haven’t seen you since the wedding…”

You huffed out. “Yeah, Nonna, I just wanted to say I’m sorry-”

“Chip, what do you need to be sorry for? It wasn’t like it was my wedding. I understand why you did that,” she reassured you.

“You do?” You looked at her with a soft look. If there was anyone that you wanted approval or reassurance from, it was your Nonna.

“Of course, I do. Look, I know I told you about soulmates ever since you were younger, and throughout the years, it pained me to see you think that you didn’t have one. So, I didn’t push the idea onto you anymore. I wanted you to live your life, and when you met Eric, I thought he was nice, but I just knew he wasn’t the one,” she explained, making your brows raise.

“You knew?” Nonna nodded. “H-How?”

“Because you would’ve told me right away when you met him. You would’ve told me that you felt everything that I had told you for years, and suddenly when you met Eric, you didn’t talk about those things. I knew on the outside, you made it seem like you weren’t into the idea of soulmates, and that may be the case, but I know deep down that you still care about it. You want someone to cherish you and love you as we all do. You were excited up until you were seventeen because your friends had found theirs already, and all of a sudden you didn’t care. I know you’re still looking, but just wait a little, yeah?” Nonna always had a way with her wisdom, and she had that kind of intuition that made you feel a little less worried. The words that came out of your mouth weren’t much of a shock to you because Nonna was smart like that. You hadn’t realized all of the things she had picked up throughout your relationship with Eric, but you were grateful that she caught those things because it made it easier to talk to her.

“You know way too much, stop,” you joked, making her laugh. You laid your head on her shoulder, embracing the moment with her as you thought about how grateful you are for her. She was truly the closest person to you, and you didn’t know what you would do without her. Suddenly, the doorbell rang as she got up from the couch. “Expecting someone?”

“Must be my personal delivery boy,” she raised her brows teasingly, and you furrowed your brows in confusion. She had always mentioned someone dropping by to drop some things off from her next-door neighbor, and yet, you hadn’t met this neighbor of hers. Nonna opened the door and the person behind it wasn’t someone you were expecting. “Oh, thank you, dear!” She grabbed the set of glass bowls. “Would you like to come in?”

The man behind the door said, “I wouldn’t want to impose-”

“No, please! Come and meet my granddaughter.” Nonna opened the door wider, so her guest could look into her house, and that was when he saw you, standing in the entryway with your mouth slightly open. “Harry, this is my lovely granddaughter--the one I’ve been telling you about.”

“Hi, I’m Harry,” he said breathlessly. His gaze was trained right on you, and Nonna looked between you two as the both of you looked at one another with shock.

“Hi, uh, Y/N,” you shook his hand as you were quite speechless. He was quite attractive and looked young. He had short, curly brown hair that was pushed back with a red patterned bandana. He wore a black Nike jacket, shorts, and running shoes.

There was a moment of silence between you two as the both of you looked at each other. His expression was soft as his eyes seemed to burn into you, making you captivated by his stare. It felt like time had stopped for a moment as you two looked into each other’s eyes, trying to map out what the intent stare really meant. Could it be? Before you allowed yourself to feel the imaginative spark, you broke out of your trance, placing your head down as you thought for a moment. He cleared his throat to relieve the silence as he scratched the back of his neck, looking anywhere other than you.

“I’m just going to put these away,” Nonna broke the silence as she smirked to herself while leaving the room and to the kitchen before you let out a breath.

Harry smiled amusingly, chuckling a tad bit. His dimples popped out when he did so and you thought he was the cutest thing to ever walk the Earth. You walked closer to him so you were in the spot Nonna was prior as Harry was still standing on the doorstep.

“Hi,” you simply greeted.

Harry’s smile widened. “Hello.”

“So, uh, how do you know Nonna again?” You asked curiously, tilting your head as you placed your hand on the doorknob on the other side, leaning against the door.

“My mum lives next door actually. She and Tallie are quite close friends, so I would see your Nonna every time I would visit Mum, and Mum would have me bring things over sometimes—whatever the two talked about,” he explained, and you nodded understandingly, thinking that it was truly a small world.

“How long has your mom lived there?” You wondered.

“About a year and a half now,” he answered. Your brows furrowed as you were genuinely confused about why you haven’t met Harry before because you would always visit Nonna. He looked at you oddly as well, wondering the same thing.

He’s known Tallie ever since Anne moved next door, and also found it strange that he’s never met you before. Tallie had mentioned her daughter, which was your mother, and has met Kath before--many times. She also mentioned you briefly, but he’s never seen any pictures of you, so he wouldn’t have recognized you if he met you.

“That’s strange, isn’t it?” You suddenly asked, and Harry nodded his head. Before he could say anything more, Nonna walked into the room.

“You kids doing okay?” She asked, and you smiled at her, nodding your head. “Do you two want to make some bread?” She suggested enthusiastically. You and Harry both chuckled, looking at one another briefly before you both said yes. Nonna clapped her hands, urging you two to follow her into the kitchen. “The dough has been resting for an hour already, so if you two could do me a favor and knead it for me, that would be great.”

After the three of you washed your hands, Nonna instructed you on how she would like her bread to be shaped like breadsticks. You and Harry complied as she was making the butter.

“So, Y/N, what do you do for a living?” He sparked up a conversation as he kneaded the dough; you were doing the same.

“I teach at the college about an hour away. Anatomy and Physiology professor,” you said humbly, and his brows raised.

“You sure know a lot about the body then…” he suddenly pointed out, eyes widening immediately as he stopped kneading. “That was really weird, I’m sorry.” You laughed loudly as he cringed at himself. “I was just trying to state the obvious since you studied anatomy, and it went smoother in my head.” His cheeks turned into a pink tint color as he scratched his neck--something that you already noticed he did when he felt nervous or awkward--feeling the embarrassment rush through him.

You chuckled, looking up from the dough. “No worries. You’re…cute.” Harry didn’t say anything but shyly smile.

“What about you?”

“Besides living in general,” he started, and you laughed. “I’m a physical therapist. I work at the hospital downtown.”

“Ah, interesting. So, you would know a lot about the body too then, huh?” You teased, placing his words in your mouth.

Harry genuinely laughed loudly, filling the kitchen with his sounds. “Perhaps I do. That was a good one,” he said once he calmed down from his laughter. You beamed at him before you studied him a bit, trying not to get caught.

You were so caught up in how focused he looked while kneading the dough, and the way his lips curled in as he rolled it between his hands. His hands were naked from the rings that you had seen prior before he took them off for this task, but the way his hands were built and what they could do had you limitlessly daydreaming for what seemed like forever. They looked strong, but they were pretty. The orange nail polish contrasted between the bulging veins in his hands, leaving a very fine line between it all.

If you looked any longer, you would be drooling at the thought of this man’s hands, but luckily, Nonna tapped you and by the look on her face, she had caught you eyeing her delivery boy. “Yes, Nonna?”

“Might wanna speed up the process, yeah?” She suggested, with her voice in a teasing manner. All you did was nod as you huffed out a chuckle before proceeding.

After a bit more conversation with Harry, the dough was finally going into the oven, leaving an excited Nonna while Harry was placing the tray onto the rack.

“Tallie, I would hate to not try the bread after it’s done, but I should probably get back to my Mum…”

“Oh, go ahead, dear! I’m sorry to keep you for so long. I’ll be sure to bring some by when it’s done.” She reached up to hug him. “Be sure to tell Anne I said thank you for lending me the bowls, and thanks to you for delivering it.”

“Always a pleasure. I’ll see you soon. Uh, Y/N,” he called out as you gave him your attention. “Walk me out?” You smiled, nodding your head. Harry said one last goodbye to Nonna before you followed him out of the house.

“It was nice meeting you,” you told him, walking onto the sidewalk. You two were walking slowly since Anne’s house was right next door, and it seemed like you two wanted more time with one another even though it wasn’t said out loud. It was like you two already knew.

“You as well,” he said honestly. You were standing right in front of you in Anne’s driveway, not quite wanting to leave just yet.

Your heart started racing uncontrollably fast as you looked up at him. His green eyes still shined bright in the gloomy sky that looked like it was about to downpour any second, but they had caught your eye immediately, and you were completely lost in them. You weren’t able to look away and think how alluring his trance was. Your mind had stopped itself from long jumping into the conclusion that was begging you to finish the story, so you pulled your stare away instantly.

“Uh, well. I’ll see you soon probably?” You asked, backing away from him. Harry slightly frowned but made sure not to make it obvious.

“Yeah, you will,” he nodded, stepping back as he offered a friendly smile.

“Bye, Harry,” you waved at him before you turned around and walked away.

Harry walked into Anne’s home and straight to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. He took a deep breath as he tried to calm down, heart beating outstandingly out of his chest that he felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore. When Harry walked into Tallie’s home, his heart was beating ten times faster ever since he saw you. He simply couldn’t stop staring at you, and the only way he stopped was when you had broken the stare. He definitely felt the spark there, and he wondered if you did too. He sure hoped so because he had never felt that strong of a feeling inside of him with anyone else.

Anne walked into the kitchen once she heard the commotion from upstairs, and saw her son leaning against the counter, head down and eyes closed, and that’s when she began to worry.

“Harry? Love, are you okay?” She ran to his side, placing her hand on his arm. Harry continued to take deep breaths, increasing Anne’s concern. “Answer me, please. You’re scaring me.” The sound of her voice was breaking Harry’s heart as he never wanted his mother to be concerned or scared, but naturally, as a mom, it was her job to be.

“Mum, it’s her. It’s really her,” he breathed out a laugh as his voice was strained from the lack of breath he had.

“What?”

“Her name’s Y/N. She’s Tallie’s granddaughter. My soulmate.” His eyes watered that was quickly followed by slight tears that streamed down his face, feeling so overwhelmed by the joy that overtook him.

“She’s here, huh?” Anne had tears in her eyes as she felt extremely happy for her son. All the heartbreaks and search for his soulmate had ended once he met you, knowing that it was going to change his life forever. Harry nodded, brushing the tears away from his face.

All the signs were there; the gleaming stare, the spark that shocked him, the magnetic pull between you two, his heart rate rising, and he felt like you were the only person in the world when he looked at you. That’s when he knew.

You were his soulmate.

The rain had poured down quite heavily as Harry ran inside the apartment complex with his small umbrella that had barely kept him dry.

Shaking the excess water on his umbrella and wiping his shoes onto the floor mat, he rushed towards the open elevator before it closed because it always took a while to land in the lobby.

“Hold the doors, please!” He called out, quickly running his fastest while trying not to slip. A hand was seen between the doors as the doors reopened. Harry got into the elevator, taking a deep breath.

“Harry?” He looked back at the other person who was in the elevator, and you were softly smiling at him as you took off your hood. You were wearing a burnt orange raincoat that he thought looked absolutely adorable on you, a university sweater underneath, black pants, along with black leather boots. Your eyes lit up at the presence of him, making him smile widely, feeling the attraction from you once again.

“H-Hi,” he stumbled over his words, to which he mentally slapped himself. He cleared his throat, “How are you?” I miss you, he wanted to say. It had been about two weeks since he last saw you at Tallie’s house, and considering you were his soulmate, that seemed like a very long time. There was no doubt that Harry had been on your mind since you met him. There was something about the way he looked at you that made you overthink every possible thing he could mean to you. It was crazy to think that he wouldn’t leave your brain considering you had just met him. You concluded that Harry was just an attractive man, the first man you’ve ever looked at that way since Eric.

“Good!” You said too overly excited, making Harry chuckle at your chirpy voice. You fake coughed, making your voice a tad bit lower. “Good, yeah. What about you?”

“Doing great!” The elevator doors open, and Harry stepped aside, letting you in first before he followed. “Do you live here?”

“Yeah, I do. This is me,” you stopped walking and stood in front of apartment 425 as you fiddled with your keys, nervously. You’ve been living here ever since you graduated college, and you didn’t fully move in with Eric because you planned to move in with him after you two got married, so luckily, you didn’t get rid of this place. “Do you also live here or are you visiting someone?”

“I live here too. I’m actually on the floor above yours, like directly above.” Harry realized that he didn’t even press the button to his floor in the elevator.

“525?” You asked as your brows furrowed. Harry nodded, giving you a small smile. “No way! Guess we’re neighbors…in a way?” You chuckled, and Harry grinned.

“Guess we are,” he slightly giggled.

“Uh, did you want to come in?” You asked. Harry’s eyes widened a bit, surprised by your offer, and you saw how shocked he was. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. It’s raining and thought it’d be nice to have some company.”

“I’d love to. Thank you,” he responded, nodding his head. You smiled as you proceeded to unlock the door, stepping inside as Harry followed behind you.

The layout of your apartment was the same as his since he was on the same side and right above you, but there was something about your apartment that felt like…home to him. He thought it had to do with the fact that it’s your space and you were in it because no one’s home felt like this besides yours. You had a few small potted plants along the windowsill along with a large one in the corner. Right next to the plant was a small wooden table with your red record player on top of it. A mustard yellow velvet couch was pushed against the wall facing the TV that rested on a white shelf bookcase that held many books and vinyl records in the cubbies along with random knick-knacks on the surface. A wooden round coffee table was placed in the middle with a vanilla candle on top of a few fashion magazines. Underneath the table was a white rug that looked warm to dig his feet in on a cold day. Three concert posters that were framed were hung on the wall, and he knew you were his soulmate because the three bands that you had on your wall were his absolute favorite; Fleetwood Mac, Queen, and The Beatles.

His heart fluttered as he looked around, feeling like this was a part of you that he finally knew now. This part of you felt like home to him as he was immediately washed over with the feeling of comfort right when he stepped into your apartment. He felt so welcomed that it was going to be difficult for him to leave your space.

“Make yourself at home.” Definitely home, he thought. “Would you like some hot chocolate?” You asked, taking out a saucepan from the cupboards.

“I would love some,” he smiled, sitting on the couch where he could see you pour the milk into the pot. After a few moments, he saw you rush back into the living area.

“Sorry, let me put some music on.” You kneeled on the hardwood floors to look at your collection before you turned your head back to him. “Any requests?”

“Any Christmas song would be lovely and very fitting,” he requested. It was the beginning of December, and Harry was in the holiday mood. Plus, you were preparing hot chocolate, so it is more than appropriate.

You smiled, nodding your head as you ran your fingers along your selection before pulling one out. Harry noticed the cover art as you pulled the record out. Ultimate Christmas by Frank Sinatra played on the record player, filling the room with melodious tunes. You walked back to the kitchen before flashing him a smile. He sat on the couch and soaked in the music as he heard humming from the kitchen, and he grinned. Harry felt a warm feeling in his chest as he saw you stir in the hot cocoa into the hot milk as you hummed White Christmas. This moment right here and right now was something he wanted to experience every single day--where you would make hot cocoa as he would watch you with sparkling eyes, thinking how Frank Sinatra’s voice fitted so well with the holiday vibe.

You came back with two red mugs with a bright smile on your face. “Do you mind placing the coasters on the table?” Your eyes pointed at the coasters underneath the candle. Harry nodded and placed two glass coasters onto the table, and he took a good look at both of them. One of the coasters stated ‘Be Kind’ in pink, and the other printed ‘Love Wins’ in multiple colors. He smiled, knowing the smallest things in your apartment was making him fall for you even more.

“Hope you like it. I also should’ve asked what you liked with your hot chocolate but I just assumed you liked the same thing as me,” you chuckled nervously. You didn’t know why you were so nervous, but you think it had to do with the fact that another man was in your apartment that wasn’t Eric.

Harry looked down at his hot chocolate. There were several marshmallows in the hot drink and a scoop of whipped cream with chocolate shavings to complete the drink. He smiled to himself as he took a sip, covering up his flustered demeanor.

“It’s exactly what I wanted. I drink mine the same way,” he replied, and you smirked.

“Glad I know a man with great taste,” you teasingly winked at him, and Harry nearly melted in his seat, and it for sure wasn’t from the hot cocoa because he wanted to reply with ‘More like your soulmate.’ He wanted to know what you were thinking in that beautiful head of yours.

He wanted to know if you felt the same things he does. Did your heart beat uncontrollably fast every time he looked at you? Did you get sucked into a different dimension every time you looked at him? Did you have the urge to move closer to him, closing the gap between you two? Because Harry felt all those things with the simple act of you sitting next to him, and he really wanted to know if you felt the same way.

You crossed your arms as the chilly weather rushed through you. “To be honest, I’m quite shocked that we live in the same building. I wasn’t planning on going back to Nonna’s until the end of the month, so I didn’t expect to see you.”

“So, you were thinking about me?” He raised his brows teasingly.

“And if I was?” You decided to tease back but came out more like flirting.

Harry paused for a moment, drinking his hot drink as he looked up at you through his lashes. “Then…I would say I was thinking about you too.” You nodded slightly, quickly grabbing your drink as you took a sip from it, hiding away your blush behind the mug. “What’s it like being a teacher? Can’t imagine standing in front of everyone and practically perform, I guess.”

You breathed out a laugh, thinking the opposite. He had the look of a rockstar, and his name sounded badass.

“It’s great. I try being their friend rather than a teacher because I feel like if they’re comfortable with me, they’ll retain and understand the material better. I learned that if you’re comfortable with someone, you’ll listen to them, so that’s what I did. And most of them are doing exceptionally well. Some of my colleagues are always surprised with how many students I get during office hours because I encourage using office hours and my email, so I’m quite busy,” you explained humbly. Harry admired your hard work and dedication, and he already knew you were a great professor just by what you told him.

“So, what made you want to become an anatomy professor?” Harry changed the subject, feeling a bit flustered himself.

“I was undecided with my major in college until I had to take a few science classes. One of them was anatomy, and I just fell in love with it. I really enjoyed learning it, and just fell in love with the subject,” you explained.

“The professor part?”

“My anatomy professor was the best. She made teaching look so fun and enjoyable. Plus, I’ve heard one too many stories about students having teachers who weren’t compassionate or sympathetic, and I didn’t like that at all. So, I wanted to be one of those teachers who made sure students learned and have a professor who was understanding,” you said humbly.

“That’s very sweet of you. Unfortunately, I’ve had those professors who were pretty tough and not so compassionate.” You pouted. You always hated hearing or reading tweets when students would type out an email and express what they were currently going through to their professor, only for their professor to lack compassion and support to students who were trying to do their best.

That’s why you wanted to become an educator. You wanted to make learning fun for your students and have them enjoy going to class rather than dreading it and being nervous to walk in.

“What about you? What made you want to become a physical therapist?” You asked.

Harry set his mug down onto the coaster. “The same as you. Something about bones and the muscles fascinated me and how they worked. I grew up loving sports, so that helped a bit, but wanting to help people recover properly was a main goal as well.”

“You’re kind like that; someone who wants to help out others,” you complimented, and Harry blushed.

“Thank you. It also has to do with the fact that one of my friends in secondary school, Max. He got injured pretty badly. He played football, or soccer, and he tore his ACL, which you probably know already, but it takes about six to twelve months to recover from that—physically and mentally. He loved the sport like no other, and couldn’t wait to get into it. His doctor cleared him when he was four months into therapy. Four. Doctor said he was looking good, so he cleared him earlier than usual.” Harry shook his head in disbelief as he told the story and you sat next to him, listening as your mouth was slightly open. “Like most of us, we listen to doctors more than we listen to our bodies. So, Max started to play again, and as expected, he hurt himself again…” he trailed off.

You placed your hand on his knee, comforting him. You could tell that Max meant a lot to him, and by the way he was acting at the moment, he cared enough to dedicate his life towards wanting to be better to people who rely on him.

“And he couldn’t play again. That was when I realized that I wanted to study the body. It was a long journey to get my doctorate, but I eventually got it at twenty-seven, and I’ve been working as a therapist for about a year and a half now; the same amount of time I’ve been here,” he said humbly.

“That’s great, Harry. You must be so proud of yourself,” you offered him a smile.

“I am, yeah. You must be too. Guess we both have a knack for changing some perspective, huh?” He softly smiled.

“Yeah, we do.”

Throughout the rest of the night, both of you got to know one another. You found out that you had a lot in common with him, such as your interests in the body (given both of your careers), movies and TV shows, books, and food; told each other childhood stories, and talked about your families. It was nice to talk to someone who didn’t judge you, especially with what happened a month ago.

It was nearing midnight as the time seemed to go by quicker than usual. After two more glasses of hot cocoa, Harry let out a yawn as he checked the time on his phone.

“I should probably get going--let you rest up,” he said politely, grabbing his mug.

You nodded, agreeing as you didn’t realize how late it was. “Okay. Oh, you could just leave it there; I’ll clean up.” Harry was too tired to debate, so he put the mug down before you walked him to the door. “I had a great time. Thank you for inviting me in and giving me hot chocolate.”

“Of course. I had a lovely time as well. Maybe…we should do it again sometime?” You suggested. Harry’s eyes gleamed as he slightly smirked; a tint of pink formed on his cheeks.

“I would love that.” You said a soft ‘okay’ as you smiled. He looked at you for a moment, noticing your eyes sparkling in the dim light of your apartment as you stared up at him in such fondness, making his heart melt in every way possible. Harry cleared his throat as he was so caught up in your stare that almost hypnotized him. “Well, you know where I live, so come visit if you want or maybe I’ll see you on another elevator ride,” he playfully joked, earning a giggle from you.

“Sleep well, Harry,” you told him as he walked out the door, away from the space that felt most comforting to him.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.” He flashed you another smile, and your knees nearly melted at the sight of his gorgeousness. Your grip on the door handle tightened, holding you up from falling to the ground.

You waited for him to turn the corner to head to the elevator before you closed your door. Placing your back flat against the door, you covered your face as a rush of giddiness hit you as your face began to warm up. That was the most fun you had in a while, even if it was just as simple as a long conversation.

You thought about Harry as you cleaned up and got ready for bed. Thinking about how sweet and kind he was. You never had met anymore who was so polite and nice while looking like that. There was no denying that you found Harry attractive--anyone with eyes could see that, but there was something about his inner aura and personality that you found extremely alluring and intriguing. You wanted to uncover and unravel all of his traits. That was when you knew you were collectively fucked.

As you went to bed, you dreamt of his green eyes and beautiful smile; drifting off to sleep, unaware that your heart was completing the gaps of Harry’s heartbeat.

Two weeks had passed since your first hangout with Harry, and you two had been hanging out ever since. Throughout those two weeks, you’d seen him at Nonna’s three times. The first time was unexpected, when you pulled into her driveway, you saw Harry helping her walk. Nonna had a sprained ankle from missing a step when she was walking down the stairs, and luckily, Harry was a physical therapist. Seeing the sight made your heart warm. The other two times were planned and you two decided to drive to her home together. It was very domestic of you two, and the level of comfort was something you never experienced with someone you just met. Nonna was happy to see you two getting along so well, she obviously knew something you were yet to figure out.

It was nice hanging out with him, you thought. He was a great and funny friend that could make you laugh for hours. But he was also someone you trusted that you could talk to about anything. It was bizarre to think considering you’d only known him for a short amount of time. Harry was just so open-minded, exciting, and new. Plus, you didn’t have many friends that lived close to you, so Harry living upstairs was just a walk in the park.

You were getting ready to have brunch with Harry and Anne. It was your first time meeting her, and you were a bit nervous if you were being honest. As Harry’s friend, you wanted Anne to like you, and you really hoped Nonna had talked you up a bit.

A knock was heard on your front door, and you took a deep breath before answering. Harry was standing behind it, wearing a plain white t-shirt, pink corduroy pants, and a black coat. Something that took you by surprise was that he was wearing brown tortoise framed glasses that fit him so well and nearly made you melt.

“Harry, you look very…nice.” Your breath hitched in your throat causing you to choke up a breath as he was completely breathless.

The corner of his lips turned up. “Thank you, so do you.” You smiled. Shall we go?” You nodded and followed him out, locking your door.

The restaurant Anne picked was not too far from your apartment complex—about 20 minutes. The entire drive to the restaurant, you and Harry sang your heart out to ABBA, pointing at each other as you both screamed out ‘You can dance, you can jive!’

“Y/N, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” Anne greeted you with a hug, and your nerves slightly dropped as she welcomed you with a hug. “Harry’s told me so much about you!”

Harry gave Anne a knowing look as a way to tell his mum ‘don’t tell her everything,’ and Anne gave him the same look saying ‘I won’t.’

“I can’t wait to get to know you. Our table is ready,” Anne said as she pulled away from you. You nodded your head in agreement as you all followed the hostess to your table.

Talking to Anne was something so refreshing. She was so sweet and kind, and you immediately knew where Harry got his best traits from. She also knew how to crack a few jokes here and there, making you almost spit your mimosa out or choke on your food.

Harry watched you two interact and his eyes watched with so much fondness. His mum and soulmate getting along was something he was so grateful for because he wouldn’t know what he would do if you two hated each other. The interaction was so natural between you two that he thought you were going to be the best of friends.

“So, I hope this is not a personal question, but have you found your soulmate, sweetheart!” Anne suddenly asked, and Harry choked on his water, making him cough reluctantly as he struggled to breathe. Anne rose from her chair as you gently slapped his back a few times to help him out. Once he was okay from his cough attack, he wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Darling, are you okay?” She gave him a concerning look.

Harry nodded, his face slightly red from the lack of air. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good, yeah.”

“You sure?” You asked. Your hand hadn’t left his back, and you could immediately feel the tingly feeling that spread throughout your arm like his touch shocked you throughout. Harry nodded again, reassuring you and Anne. You turned back to Anne, realizing that she had an unanswered question. “Uh, back to your question—no I haven’t found my soulmate.”

“Really?” Her tone coming out surprising.

You nodded. “Yeah. I thought I did, turns out he wasn’t the one.” Harry was eyeing you nervously as he sat beside you. He gulped, wanting to know everything.

“I’m sure you’ll find them soon, sweetheart,” Anne reassured, and you gave her an appreciating smile. “Your Nonna seems quite keen on soulmates,” she pointed out.

You nodded. “Yeah, she is. She started talking about soulmates since I was young. She found hers when she was sixteen. Her and Papa’s love was so special. Unfortunately, he passed away about five years ago you explained, and Anne frowned slightly.

“I’m sorry to hear that, love.”

“It’s okay! Feel like he’s always somewhat around. He owned a beach house that he passed down to me, and I go there every month, but I never change the furniture or take anything down, so it very much feels like he’s still with me,” you smiled as you told them.

“That’s lovely, sweetheart. I’m sure he is, and I’m sure he’s proud of you.” You softly smiled at Anne’s words, appreciative of them. You felt Harry’s hand on yours that was resting on the table, and you warmed up at his touch. Turning your head towards him, you flashed him a smile and he sent you a subtle and innocent wink, making your stomach turn into knots. Luckily, you were sitting because you would have surely fallen if you were standing.

“Where’s your beach house located, by the way?” Harry asked.

“Monterey.” You answered and you noticed Harry’s eyes widen, glancing towards Anne. “What?”

“I actually have a house there.” Now, that was new news.

“Really?” He nodded.

“Yeah, it’s in Pebble Beach. Where’s yours?”

“New Monterey.” Pebble Beach was about a fifteen-minute drive from where your beach house was at, on opposite ends of the coast.

Something was interesting about the fact that Harry was on the other side of your beach house. You’d been to Pebble Beach many times, sometimes walking the hour walk there to get away. If you hadn’t met Harry at Nonna’s, would you have met him at the beach house?

You shook off the thought, realizing that Anne had changed the subject, so you listened.

Brunch went by, and you were parting ways with Anne. You promised you would visit her when you visited Nonna, to which she beamed and hugged you tightly. Harry and Anne hugged, and they said ‘I love you’ to each other. Your heart warmed at the mother and son duo, thinking they had the best dynamic.

You and Harry drove back to the apartment complex in comfortable silence, all the way up to his apartment. You two would take turns sharing your apartments because they both made a great hang out spot. His place was your favorite, though. The first time you stepped in it, you felt an immediate calmness to the disarray of what your reality felt like. It was like you never wanted to leave his apartment, simply wanting to cuddle into his couch with a soft blanket over you. You could possibly stay there forever, you thought.

Harry made you both a cup of hot chocolate as it was starting to become thing for you both. It was nice; having a thing with you. It made him feel involved and important in your life.

“Do you want to have an honesty hour?” You asked once he set your mug onto the coaster before he took a seat right beside you.

He raised his brows. “Were you not being honest with me before?” He teased, and you nudged his shoulder.

“I’m serious,” you giggled, and it was music to his ears.

“I am too, but yes we could always have an honest hour. Tell me something.” He curled his lips in, and you couldn’t help but look at his mouth before you quickly glanced back up to his eyes.

“What do you wanna know?”

“Whatever you want to tell me. I’d be happy to listen,” he reassured. You decided you wanted to tell him what happened a month ago with the whole Eric situation. It was something you could open up to him about since he wasn’t at the wedding, so you knew he wouldn’t judge you.

You smiled softly. “It’s funny how we live in a world full of soulmates, huh?” You started. Harry’s breath hitched into his throat. He started to feel anxious right as you mentioned soulmates that led him to be speechless; he nodded instead. “Well, my Nonna has been telling me everything about soulmates ever since I was born. She constantly went on and on about it--always asking me if I’ve found mine ever since I turned thirteen. I was excited, y’know? She hyped it up so much that I couldn’t wait until I was older to find my soulmate.” Harry gulped, not saying anything. He felt a ‘but’ coming in, so he waited until you were finished. “I went through my teenage years with my friends talking about their soulmates that had found them when they were fifteen or sixteen. I was the only one alone. I don’t know why, but the universe must hate me.”

“The universe does not hate you,” he disagreed, shaking his head at the hateful words as he slightly frowned.

“No, it does. When I went to college, I stopped believing in the soulmate shit. I dated whoever I wanted without that pressure. But there was this one person that almost made me believe in soulmates…” you trailed off, and Harry took a deep breath. Maybe she does feel all those things for me? He thought. “His name’s Eric. I met him my last year of college…and we’re engaged--or were engaged.” Harry’s eyes widened as they slightly watered. His heart pounded through his chest as if he couldn’t breathe anymore.

“Y-You were engaged?” He stuttered, holding back his tears.

“Yeah. I said the universe hated me because I ran out and left him at the altar. When he was saying his vows, I thought of everything Nonna had told me. The heartbeat, the stare, the pull, everything. I didn’t feel that with him, and it was shit timing as well, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t feel the same way for me too,” you explained before taking another sip.

“So, do you believe in it now?” He slipped in the question.

“I mean…possibly. I know there’s someone out there for me--maybe. But I really pushed back the idea of my soulmate ever since I felt left out when I was a teenager, so I’m not entirely sure what the exact feeling you feel when you see your soulmate because I just pushed it out of my head and forgot about it.” Harry nodded understandingly.

It made much more sense to him, and you answered all of his questions. He knew that you weren’t feeling all of those things with him. It definitely hurt him, but he’d hoped that those feelings would come around soon because he’d sat right in front of you, waiting for the right moment to tell you that he was yours.

“Have you seen him since?” He carried on the conversation, wanting to know all the details and information that he could get.

“Since the wedding?” Harry nodded, and you shook his head. “No, I haven’t. It’s been about a month since I saw him last. I’ve just been texting him to see if he’s doing okay because I don’t know where his head’s at, but he told me that he would call me when he’s ready to talk, which I have to respect and understand.”

“A month?”

Your brows raised slightly. “Hmm, yeah, a month.” Harry's heart began to beat faster, and he clasped his hands together to prevent them from shaking. “I feel bad, y’know? I feel like I’m now painted as this horrible person, but I know I am-”

“Hey, no, you’re not,” Harry disagreed, shaking his head. “You’re pretty amazing.” Your eyes lightened up a bit. “I’ve only known you for a couple of weeks, and you’re possibly the sweetest person I’ve met. You’re funny, smart, and really fuckin’ kind. You made a decision that was going to affect your entire life. That doesn’t mean you’re a horrible person.” You didn’t say anything but nodded your head slightly with a small smile at his words. He didn’t need to hear anything from you to know that you were appreciative of his words.

“I wanna know everything about you, H.” You changed the subject, not wanting to talk more about your failed relationship.

His body turned warm at the sudden nickname. “Everything?” He raised his brows as he took a sip of his drink. He was a bit wary about your sudden want, but he knew that he could trust you.

You nodded. “Tell me all your secrets,” you whispered. Your words came out seductive, which you didn’t mean to, but by the way he was looking at you, it seemed like your words had some effect on him.

He curled his lips into his mouth as you pierced your eyes into his as his heart began to beat harder. He smirked a little, chuckling to himself at his reaction.

“You're in for it, love. Have a lot to cover.”

A blush formed onto your cheeks. “The floor’s yours.” He took a deep breath before he proceeding to tell you something very important to him. and he hoped he wouldn’t overwhelm you with this information.

“When I moved here, a year and a half ago, I was diagnosed with Bradycardia Arrhythmia—my heart would beat slowly as you know. They put a pacemaker in after my second collapse. It was so sudden, and I have no idea where it came from, maybe smoking for an entire year when I was in uni, I’m not sure. But I moved here in August, so around that time, I collapsed. Mum rushed me to the hospital and they did a bunch of tests and diagnosed me, and now I have a pacemaker,” he explained calmly.

The feeling in your chest was something you’ve never felt before. The heart tightened as he spoke every word, causing the pain to increase as your heart sank. Your eyes watered, not wanting them to fall because he didn’t need your pity.

“Harry, a-are you okay now?” You asked, voice small.

“Yeah, I think so. Uh, on Saturday at around eleven in the morning, two weeks before we met, I collapsed again. This time, I really couldn’t breathe. It genuinely felt like it was my last day on Earth. My lungs were closing in and my heart was slowing down. My mum was with me at my beach house, and I was lucky that she was there because she immediately called 911 and got me to the hospital.” You looked at him with fear in your eyes as you listened to the gut wrenching story. “I was gone for fifteen minutes, Y/N. Fifteen. It was some sort of miracle…”

Then it suddenly hit you.

It all made sense.

Your heart suddenly opened up fully and the traces of doubt were left behind. Your mind started to piece together the reasons why you haven’t met your soulmate, and it was all right in front of you. The stories and journeys Harry had gone through had all added up.

The beating organ in your chest had pounded so hard that you felt the beat through your ears, making it impossibly hard to hear, but your heart was fluttering uncontrollably that you couldn’t help but smile and blush. You could see it now—his stare. His eyes captivated yours as he looked so deeply into your eyes that you could stay lost in them forever and never worry about a thing. The magnetic pull and attraction towards him felt like you couldn’t hold back; that you wanted to continue being close to him as you inched closer to him.

Your mind was coming up with different theories on why your soulmate was taking so long, but they all concluded to him. To Harry.

It all made sense.

The reason why it took so long for your soulmate to show was because Harry hadn’t moved here until a year and a half ago. He was still back in England getting his doctorate, and the separation between you two made it impossible to meet. Somehow your mind made up the conclusion that the only reason why you two met after Harry living here, in the same building, for a year and a half was because you were still with Eric; your time was spent on someone who wasn’t your soulmate.

“Harry…” you whispered.

His brows raised. “I’m okay now! Really, I am. I don’t think I’ll have any more collapses…” he said knowingly. His tone was like he knew something you didn’t, like he knew you were his soulmate.

“Harry…” you repeated.

“Yeah?” You reached forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders. Your actions took him by surprise, but he immediately hugged you back, hurrying his face into your shoulder.

You had instantly felt the warmth that he provided, not wanting to pull back. You took deep breaths, and you could physically feel Harry’s heart beating in sync with yours as you two sat in front of each other.

“Why didn’t…you tell me?” You breathed out, eyes glossy as you pulled away from the hug.

Harry noticed your change of emotion and he looked at you with a concerned face. He gently placed his hands on the sides of your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb as your tears spilled out.

“Tell you what?” He asked, still clueless.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were my soulmate?” You questioned.

Harry’s breath was caught in his throat. He didn’t know if you were angry or disappointed with him, but you didn’t show any sign of anger, so he slightly relaxed. Your face was filled with confusion, and he wanted to take that away quickly.

“You know?”

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded, tears threatening to spill out.

“I, uh,” he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I felt it immediately when I first met you, and I didn’t think you did yet. I should’ve told you…” he grabbed both of your hands and brought them up to his lips, kissing the back of your hand sweetly.

Harry’s eyes watered. He didn’t know if you were happy that he was your soulmate because you haven’t said anything, so he anxiously kept kissing your hand.

You inched forward, placing your forehead against his as both of your hands were in between you two. Your lips met with his hand before you pulled away.

“I felt it. I felt it all when you told me your story and about your condition. It was like your heart opened up for me and my heart finally had the realization that you were right in front of me—this whole time.” You sniffled. Harry’s tears streamed down his face as the overwhelming feeling was present in his chest, making his heart pound through his chest. Your hearts were in sync with one another, so you placed your hand flat on his chest, feeling the beating organ that was giving you so much life.

“I can’t believe this is happening…” he said in disbelief.

“Harry…I should tell you that, uh, the first time you collapsed—when you were diagnosed with your condition, that was when Eric proposed to me. Your second collapse, a month ago, that was my wedding day. The time you collapsed was when I was at the altar. There were just so many thoughts running around in my head that I physically and mentally couldn’t be in front of my ex because I just knew he wanted the one for me,” you explained.

Harry’s mind immediately clicked. “Then when you left the altar was when I was brought back to life…” he pieced together like a puzzle. His missing puzzle piece was you. Your eyes softened, smiling at him because at least you did some good in the last month. “You saved me.”

“I can’t help but think that I was the one that caused all of this,” you poured, and he shook his head.

“No, no. You didn’t. If you’re going to blame yourself for that, then I’m going to blame myself for getting together with other people back in England, causing you to not believe that you have a soulmate,” he challenged. You shook your head in disagreement. “Then we have nothing to blame ourselves for, okay? We’re here now.”

You placed your forehead against his as you whispered,” Yeah, we are.” You close your eyes for a moment, trying to take in the events. You couldn’t believe that after knowing Harry for more than two weeks, he was your soulmate this entire time.

Pulling away a bit, you looked at him as your eyes glimmered. The tips of your noses touched in the most delicate way as you looked at each other. The room was filled with so much clarity, light, and…love. You smiled softly as the corners of Harry’s lips turned up into a grin, dimples poking out.

“Can I kiss you?” He finally asked, eyes looking down at your lips and back to your eyes.

You nodded, your heart beating ten times faster. He moved your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear before gently placing his hands on your cheeks as he moved forward to capture his lips with yours. His touch and lips ignited you as the sparks ran through your body, making you pull him closer. His lips were something you’d never felt before. They were soft, gentle, and loving as he moved in sync with you, meeting your tongue with his in such a passionate and deep way.

You felt completely overwhelmed with happiness as you smiled into the kiss, tears rushing down your face as you knew the wait was finally over. He was here.

Harry moved you on your back as he hovered over you, lips never disconnecting as it was something he wanted to do forever. You ran your fingers through his hair, slightly grabbing onto his curls as you earned a moan against your mouth from him. Involuntarily bucking your hips against him, you felt him grow between your legs in his flared pants as he grinded against your leg.

He pulled away from the kiss only to kiss your jaw and neck, nibbling and sucking your skin, leaving a decent hickey on your skin. Your hands raked his clothed back, and Harry felt the way your nails dragged against his shirt, making his excitement increase because he couldn’t wait to actually feel it against his skin, only if you’d let him.

“C-Can I, uh,” he stumbled with his words.

“Harry, do you think we could wait?” You asked, indicating sex. His eyes widened, immediately getting off of you.

“Oh, yeah! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“No, don’t be sorry. I just want to wait to do that with you,” you caressed his cheek.

“Okay, that’s fair.” He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips to see if he wasn’t dreaming.

The rest of the night was like this—you laid in his arms, stealing kisses from one another. He held you tightly, afraid that you would leave once he loosened his grip, but you were right where you needed to be.

A week went by, and you were happier than ever. You were in complete bliss with Harry, and you never wanted that feeling to stop. It seemed like Nonna was happier than you because she’d been waiting for this moment for so long. She wanted to see you happy, even Harry, you being happy together just made her heart warm.

You were just getting back home from doing some shopping when your phone rang. Assuming that it was your soulmate, you smiled as you searched for your phone through your purse. But what you didn’t expect was to see the contact that you have been waiting a month for.

“Eric? Hi,” you said surprisingly.

“Hey. Uh,” he chuckled. “This is a bit weird, isn’t it? I just wanted to call to see if you were free to talk.”

Your eyes widened. “Yeah! I just got home. Do you want to swing by right now if you’re available?”

“Yeah, that’d be great. The same apartment, right?”

“The same one. I’ll see you soon,” you confirmed before you bid each other goodbye.

You waited for Eric for about thirty minutes, distracting yourself by cleaning and tidying up your place as you constantly overthought what you were going to say to him. This was going to be the first real conversation you were going to have with him in a month, not to mention the first time you’re seeing him after you ran away and left him at the altar.

There was a hard knock on your door, startling you. You took a deep breath before you answered it, revealing your ex-fiancé.

“Hey, Y/N,” he smiled, giving you a hug. He seemed happier and in a better mood than you’d expected.

“Hi, how are you?” You invited him into your home. It still looked the same the last time he came over, which had been quite a while.

“I’m doing good, you?”

“Good as well. Coffee?” You offered.

“Please.”

You made him a cup of coffee, remembering the way he liked it because of the amount of times you’d made it for him in the morning. Setting it on the coaster, you sat on the other end of the couch, facing him. There was a bit of silence between you two—both not knowing where to start the conversation, but you figured you needed to get everything out of your system, so you went first.

“Eric, I’m really sorry for how I left things. I shouldn’t have done it the way I did, and I should’ve talked to you first before we even proceeded to the wedding, but all of a sudden, it clicked. When you were reading your vows, I was just thinking of all the things Nonna said to me, and I realized…you weren’t the one. You weren’t my soulmate,” you explained. Your shoulders relaxed, finally feeling like this was the first step before you got to live your life with Harry.

“Hey,” he reached over to grab your hand. Now, you could say that you really don’t feel the same love as before. His touch wasn’t the same as Harry’s. Eric didn't give you the spark that crawled up your skin, only Harry did. “It’s totally okay. I mean that. I understand why you did that, and I’m glad you did because I knew you weren’t the one for me either, and it took me a while to realize that until…” he trailed.

“Until?” You encouraged him to continue, but it clicked so quickly for you. “You met someone?” He smiled, nodded his head. “Holy shit! What?!” You exclaimed surprisingly. You were the furthest from mad, and you were actually really happy for him.

“I did, yeah. She’s great, honestly. Her name is Mandy and I met her the night of our wedding,” he chuckled. “I went to a bar and met her there. And then I felt it. It’s the most exciting and exhilarating feeling in the world,” he excitedly said.

“Isn’t it?” You raised your brows, and Eric furrowed his brows until he got what you meant.

“Hold on…you…wait…you met yours didn’t you?” He speculated, and you laughed.

“Yeah, I did. Two weeks after our wedding. Actually met him at Nonna’s. Turns out, they’ve known each other for a year and a half. Can you believe that?”

“Actually, I can. Nonna Tallie knows everything. I’m pretty sure she knew that I wasn’t your soulmate too,” he said, laughing. You laughed along, deciding not to tell him that she actually did know.

The rest of the night went on like this. You two caught up, and shared stories and memories that made you laugh when you looked back while pouring yourselves glasses on glasses of wine. You realized that you and Eric were much better as friends, and you’re glad that it didn’t end in a horrendous way because you really cherished and appreciated him.

The night was getting late, and you two were giggling your tipsy hearts out as your eyes were trying theirs best to stay open. You realized you couldn’t fight over your exhausted and drunk self, so you decided to call it a night.

“Uh, you could take the couch since it’s late and you can’t drive,” you offered.

“Really? Thank you,” he smiled. You grabbed him an extra blanket and pillow, and bid him goodnight because you went to the restroom to do your skincare because you never forget to do your night routine no matter how drunk you are.

You crashed onto your bed, closing your eyes as you let sleep and your dreams take over you, dreaming about the loveliest man just above you and how you couldn’t wait to see him again.

When you wanted to see Harry again, you didn’t expect it to be the way you did.

After a long eight hours of dreaming of him, you heard a loud knock on the door, causing you to jolt awake. Still groggy as you were sitting up in bed, you heard footsteps walking towards the door, and you had nearly forgotten Eric was still in your apartment and that he was going to answer the door.

What you didn’t expect was to hear the familiar raspy and deep voice that said ‘Who the fuck are you?’ making you quickly get out of bed and heading towards the door. Eric was shirtless, clearly still sleepy, and Harry was standing on your doorstep with a bag of food in his hands.

The picture looked bad and wrong. With you and Eric just getting out of separate beds, respectfully, and Eric not wearing a shirt, it really wasn’t what it looked like.

“Harry-”

“A-Are you cheating on me?” Harry asked, not knowing if those were the right words. Sure, you were his soulmate, but he hadn’t made things official yet.

“Hey, man-”

“I’m clearly not talking to you,” he interrupted Eric, giving him a stern look.

You gently pulled his face down so he could look at you. “Listen to me, please?” He didn’t say anything, so you continued. “This is Eric, my ex. He came here to talk last night and we had a few glasses of wine and I let him crash on the couch, that’s all.”

Harry nodded, but his face clearly said that he wasn’t convinced. You looked at him with a sad expression, feeling useless on what you could do to get him to believe you.

“You know…” he started. His face looked disappointed, and you wished he flashed you his smile. “I found it odd that you didn’t know I was your soulmate when I first met you, and it hurt me, to be honest. It broke my heart. I waited patiently for you for my entire life, and I waited even more when I met you and you didn’t know that it was me. I get that if you’re still in love with him, I get it. You were together for years, almost forever. But this…” he gestured towards you two. “It looks bad and it hurts me more than ever.”

With that, he walked away. Rushing towards the staircase, you ran after him, calling for him, but he ignored you. His long strides beat yours as he took two steps at a time, and you barely kept up with him, so you just let him be for now. You sat on the cemented stairs, placing your face in your hands as you cried. Your sobs echoed throughout the empty staircase, and your heart felt like it was ripping in half—Harry’s heart breaking just added to your pain as well.

And just when you had gotten your soulmate, you felt like you lost him.

A week had passed since you last saw Harry, and it was one of the longest, frustrating, and painful weeks you ever had to live through.

The face Harry had given you was something you never wanted to see. The displeasurable look made your heart drop every time you thought about it, closing your eyes, it was the only thing you could see.

He wasn’t talking to you, no matter how many times you knocked on his door and said sorry to him through the door that most likely came out muffled from the other side. Throughout the week, you tried your hardest not to get angry for being ignored as you refrained from telling him how unreasonable he was being. But you looked at things from his perspective, and you understood why he felt that certain anxiety of seeing Eric in your apartment…shirtless, might you add.

It took you a while to figure out how that Harry was your soulmate, and you couldn’t imagine the doubt and discouraging feeling he had when you didn’t figure it out right away. You couldn’t imagine what he felt like when he first met you and felt everything indescribable.

For what seemed like the millionth time this week, you walked into Nonna’s house, immediately feeling the warmth and comfort you felt every single time. But it wasn’t the kind of warmth you longed for from a certain someone.

“Hey, Nonna,” you greeted once you entered, finding her on the couch, looking through her photo albums.

“Hi, Chip. Come in and sit with me,” she patted the space next to her, and you gladly walked over, taking a seat, looking at the pictures of her and your grandfather when they were younger.

“My soulmate. Miss you so much,” she said to the picture of the two of them smiling at the camera, touching Papa’s face.

Nonna flipped through the album, telling you stories about every single picture. You loved hearing memories about your grandparents as they brought so much joy to you. Nonna’s stories were the last bit of hope you had in soulmates, and you made sure to never let it go.

You saw Nonna take out a picture out of the slip, pointing at it as she told you another story. “This was me and your Papa when we went to the beach. We were with some friends, and he told me he was going to marry me. This wasn’t where he proposed, but this was when I heard it for the first time. I was surprised, but so in love.” She smiled at the photo of her and her soulmate. Nonna handed you the picture so you could get a better look.

In the picture, they were both sitting in the sand and she was smiling at the camera while Papa was holding her waist, looking at her with so much love. They were such a beautiful couple and quite the lookers.

As you studied the photograph, you noticed a couple in the back who equally looked in love as Nonna and Papa were. But to what shocked you was that the couple in the back looked just like you and Harry. You softly gasped, bringing the picture closer to your eyes, making sure you weren’t just imagining things, but sure enough, the couple looked exactly like the two of you.

“Nonna, look at this. This couple right here,” you pointed at the picture.

She squinted before she gasped herself. “Well, that looks quite like you and my delivery boy.”

“W-Why is that exactly us?” You stuttered, a bit spooked out.

Nonna grabbed your hand, holding it tightly. “Soulmates are destined for your future. What they didn’t tell you, or what I didn’t tell you was that, before you’re born or even conceived, the universe already plans for your soulmate because they’re quick like that. They have this stronghold that they can’t help but put together two people who are made for each other, even if they’re not even on this earth yet. In your case, the universe put you and Harry together in your past lives, way before you both were born. You and Harry were made for each other. Don’t let him go, ever.”

Without even realizing, you felt tears fall from your eyes as she explained. Your heart felt like it was exploding with so much love.

You needed him. You needed the air he provided. The light in your darkest days. The love that fulfilled your heart.

You handed Nonna the picture back, but she waved you off. “Keep it. Go get him, yeah?”

Kissing her cheek in gratefulness, you sniffled as you headed to your home.

You found yourself exactly where you needed to be, knocking on the dark green door with the number 525 in gold.

“Harry, please open the door,” you called out from outside. A frown settled upon your face as you continued to knock. The thought of Harry being on the other side of the door and ignoring you, made your heart ache.

“Can't do that when I’m out here.” You turned your head to see Harry fiddling with his keys with a bag of groceries in his other hand.

You smiled softly, rushing towards him before wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pressing yourself against him. “Missed you so much.” Your heart warmed when you felt his arm wrap around your waist, and you smiled into his shoulder. “Can we talk? Please?” You asked once you pulled away, looking at him with pleading eyes. And who was he to say no to that?

“Let’s go inside.” He walked past you, opening the door to let you in. You missed the homey feeling, and one week was too long without stepping foot into his place. He offered you a drink, but you declined, and he joined you on his sofa.

There was an unfamiliar silence where you didn’t know if you should speak or let the silence take over you until the tension finally breaks. Harry wasn’t speaking either as he was waiting for you to speak since you were the one who almost knocked down his door with your fist with the constant knocking.

“I’m sorry, Harry. This week has been brutal and I never want to go without you ever again. I looked at things from your perspective, and yeah, I would be frustrated and disappointed and hurt at me too. I couldn’t imagine what you were going through when you finally found me and I didn’t even know you were right in front of me. And I just want to say I’m sorry. Eric and I are over, and I don’t love him anymore. He’s already found his soulmate, and I have you…at least I think I still have you…” you said all in one breath, and your mind had gone into a spiral because you really didn’t know if you screwed things up.

Harry breathed out a chuckle, smiling to himself as he looked down at his lap. You knew you hadn’t convinced him enough just by the way he’s silent, probably debating with himself in his head if he should believe you. So, you took out the picture Nonna had shown you from your purse, hesitantly giving it to him.

He grabbed the picture and looked at him before he asked, “Who’s this?”

“That’s my Nonna and Papa. Think they were, like, twenty here. But that’s besides the point…look at the couple in the back.” Harry squinted, observing the couple behind Nonna and Papa. The couple were facing the ocean; the woman was sitting in front of the man as his arms were warmed around her body. They were looking at one another, smiling brightly when the world was right in front of them. But their worlds were right in their arms.

You noticed Harry’s eyes widen, looking at the couple again just as you did to make sure he’s not just hallucinating. He turned back to you, speechless, and you nodded.

“That’s us in our past life. Nonna told me that the universe puts couples together even if they’re not born yet. Our souls were born to the stars and the moon. We were destined to be together decades ago, and we are now,” you hesitantly grabbed his hand, and you’re grateful that he didn’t pull away. His touch was on fire that the spark ignited into something so relieving. You looked at him so intently, and you couldn’t pull away. No matter how disappointed he was in you, there was still that sparkle when he looked at you. “Harry, I’m sorry if I made you think that I wasn’t in love with you. There is nothing more in the world than you, and you’re all I want. We’re made for each other, baby. I’ve been in love with you, I’ll be in love with you. Forever.”

Silent tears streamed down Harry’s face as he curled his lips in. His heart was beating at a normal pace, only because it was now filled with the love and warmth that he’s asked for, and it all came from you. You filled that hole in his heart that’s been waiting to be sealed, and now you vowed to take care of it, and love and cherish it.

Harry shifted closer to you and you smiled through your tears. He delicately touched your cheek like you were fragile glass, and you soaked in his touch that made your cheeks warm. You turned your head to kiss his palm as he cradled your face. He brought his face closer to yours and kissed the tip of your nose before resting his forehead against yours. You smiled to yourself; you thought the gesture was sweet and you missed his touch and lips so much that it had made your heart physically ache.

“I’m gonna make you happy, baby, I promise.”

He nodded as his heart forgave you. “And I’ll do the same. Forever.” Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he spoke so softly, and his voice was deeper and raspier. “I was overreacting the last time--I’m sorry. I just closed myself off and-”

“Hey, it’s okay. Your feelings are valid. Let’s talk about it next time, okay?” You softly suggested, and he offered you a small smile of acceptance.

“I’m gonna love you forever,” he said.

“You better,” you teased, smirking slightly as he chuckled.

The tip of your noses touches as you closed your eyes before Harry leaned in and connected your lips together. The lips that were molding with yours had taken you back years, and it was like you had been kissing his lips for the entirety of your life, along with your beating heart that was beating for him all along.

pls let me know your thoughts and feelings on this! thank you for reading <3

#caitlin's fic party #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles ff #harry styles writing #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #solo harry #doctor!harry #professor!yn #harry styles friends to lovers #friends to lovers #soulmate!harry #soulmate!au

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aellynera · 3 years

Note

Hi love! Can you do a Oscar Isaac x reader where they do the buzzfeed video reading thirst tweets and he gets jealous of the tweets? Thank you so much, I love your page. ❤️

Hello lovely Nonnie! I’m sorry this took so long, but I finally got super inspired to finish it. It’s not Oscar Isaac per se (I don’t do RPF) but I thought about it a bit and I was like...but I will do a Llewyn AU. So that’s what I did, and here it is, and I hope you and whoever else reads it, enjoys it! (note: most of the tweets came from various Thirst Tweet videos on YouTube, but there are a couple I just made up.)

I Want Llewyn Davis to Blank Me in the Blank (Llewyn Davis x F!Reader, Modern AU)

Word Count: 1300(ish)

Warnings: Some language, sexual references but nothing graphic or explicit just suggestive, floof.

- Llewyn isn’t sure what a BuzzFeed is, and to be honest, he’s not even sure what the hell a thirst tweet is.

- You’re always teasing him that, if the world suddenly loses all technology tomorrow and the internet and social media disappear, he’ll be the only one who will still be able to function, and he’ll probably be a lot happier.

- You’re not wrong.

- He hates social media. Doesn’t understand what the point is really, why so many people are obsessed with it. Yeah, he technically has official accounts on all the major platforms, mainly because you insisted and set them up. They’re just placeholders and he never uses them.

- The only reason he’s even here to do this media gig is because you asked, all wide puppy-dog eyes and gnawed-on bottom lip, and he knows that you know he can’t say no to that.

- Not that he ever really wants to say no to you, but sometimes...

- Now he’s almost one hundred percent certain he regrets it.

- You’ve tried explaining the concept to him, probably like twenty-some times, and you’re trying again now, but as you lead him into the studio it pretty much goes in one ear and out the other.

- People don’t know you’re together, so he’s annoyed by that on top of everything else, because he can’t call you any of the usual pet names that roll off his tongue like melted butter.

- No angel. No baby. No sweetheart. It fucking sucks.

- "It’s not a serious thing, Llewyn. Just...fake it till you make it. Make jokes about it, it’ll be fine,” you tell him.

- You sit side by side at a little table, a couple feet apart, and a production assistant put a little metal bucket in front of each of you.

- Llewyn gives you a weird look. You just shake your head and smile this cute little smile that he does his level best to ignore because, well, you’re in public and nobody knows.

- Then the tweets come out of the buckets.

- Things I requite in a man: five nine, pisces, grammy nominated, llewyn davis. That’s all i ever need.

- Why is Llewyn Davis so attractive? He’s like 30 years older than me and I’m a lesbian but he still gets me hot and bothered.

- I cannot believe Llewyn Davis invented being sexy.

- Llewyn Davis got thicc lips and thicc hips

- I want Llewyn Davis to be my daddy but not in the fatherly kind of way.

- There’s a lot more, but honestly, they all sort of blend together.

- He manages to laugh them off and make some clever comments but he shoots you a look that’s part confusion, part disdain, and really annoyed. You just shrug.

- But then the tweets start coming out of your bucket, and Llewyn’s brain instantly regains its laser-focus.

- First, because everyone calls you by your online handle, which drives the nail further into Llewyn’s coffin because of his inability to actually call you cute names night now.

- Secondly, who do these assholes think they are, talking about his girl like this?

- Hello? Maker? Can we talk about how you put the heavens in AngelEyes’s eyes, because it’s starting to cause some serious problems over here. Kthx.

- I want to lick cherry-flavored jello off AngelEyes fingers, why does life have to be so unfair?

- Sit on my face and suffocate me, AngelEyes.

- AngelEyes’s boobs are a gift from whatever deity you choose to believe in, and if you’re an atheist, well, then more tits for me.

- I’m pretty sure AngelEyes could get all my children out of me, and I’m willing to take that challenge.

- Llewyn’s kind of tuned out, trying not to pay any attention to all the dirty things the world wants to do to you, but his head finally snaps up and his arm does too and his little metal bucket goes crashing to the floor.

- You (and everyone else in the studio) just stare at him.

- “Could I...” he clears his throat, “could I speak to you, for just a minute? Like, out in the hall?”

- “Okay?” you say slowly, but stand up and head towards the door, with him right behind you.

- The door barely has a change to swing shut behind you before Llewyn is on you, frantically pressing his lips to yours in a soul-sucking kiss.

- “Llewyn, what are you doing?” you hiss when you finally break away for air.

- It took quite a few minutes before you absolutely needed that break and you’re fairly certain people are going to come looking for you any second because you have to be taking a lot longer to “talk” than Llewyn implied.

- “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to sit there and pretend all those tweets are okay”

- He’s pressing you against the wall and you can’t help the slightly impish smile that comes to your face. “I have a pretty good idea.”

- Llewyn glares through narrowed eyes. “This isn’t funny, AngelEyes.”

- “I was listening to all the ones people said about you too. Don’t get so worked up, Llewyn, it’s all in good fun.”

- Llewyn snorts.

- “Baby, are you...jealous?” You raise a brow at him.

- “I have half a mind to just take you up against this wall, right now.”

- “You’re jealous.”

- His mouth is suddenly a breath away from yours again, and he murmurs, “I just want people to know that you’re mine. And to know that I’m yours. And to never read a single thirst tweet ever again in my entire life,” before his desperate lips are back on yours.

- This time, he pulls out of the kiss first and you rest your head on his shoulder and try to catch your breath again.

- He’s checking something on his phone - replying to a text from his manager Snap or his sister, maybe, you’re only vaguely aware that he’s actually on his phone at all.

- But then you feel your own phone vibrate in your pocket.

- You pull it out and immediately almost drop it.

- “Llewyn. You...you didn’t.”

- Llewyn looks at you with a completely innocent face. He slides his phone back in his pocket and hooks a thumb towards the door. “I don’t know what you mean, sweetheart. Come on, we should probably get back in there before they send a search party.”

- You barely have time to process the notification that Llewyn Davis (@ folksingerwithacatofficial) has made his first tweet! Check it out! and even less time to actually read it before Llewyn disappears through the door and you have to follow.

- But it there was a picture - you didn’t even know Llewyn knew how to do that. And if he had an extra minute, he’d be inordinately proud of himself.

- It’s from a friend’s rooftop party a couple weeks ago. You’re behind him with your arms around his shoulders, kissing his cheek, and he has his eyes closed and a happy, content little smile on his face.

- There’s no way anyone’s going to look at it and be like, ‘oh they’re just friends.’ But the caption definitely clears it up.

- Never been happier than I am w/AngelEyes by my side. Aren’t enough words to say how much I love you, baby. Maybe I’ll just write you a song or ten.

- You head back into the studio, about to shove your phone back in your pocket, your face burning hotter than the sun, but it vibrates again and you see the corners of Llewyn lips turn up, even though he’s pointedly not looking at you.

- There’s another tweet.

- Now go get some water y’all and stop talking about my girlfriend’s tits. At least give her ass the credit it deserves too.

- Llewyn pretends not to notice when, five minutes later, everyone’s phones and laptops and tablets start blowing up with notifications and reactions. He just pulls you into his lap and kisses you softly on the cheek.

Everything Taglist: @anetteaneta @autumnleaves1991-blog @be-the-spark-flyboy @damerondjarin @deeandbobbymcgee @huxdameron @iflostreturntobudcooper @itspdameronthings @jitterbugs927 @leto-duke @littlebopper96 @reysflyboy @rosemarysbaby13 @spider-starry @veuliee @waatermelon-sugaar @woakiees @writefightandflightclub @yourbucky084

Llewyn Taglist: @santiagogarcia

>>join my taglist here<<

#allison answers #lovely anon #llewyn davis #llewyn davis blurb #llewyn davis x reader #llewyn davis x you #inside llewyn davis blurb #inside llewyn davis modern au #my writing #oscar isaac characters

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sevlgi · 3 years

Text

you were beautiful

requested: no

group: stray kids

pairing: lee know x fem!reader

genre: angst, questionable fluff

contents: amnesia!au, dancer!minho, receptionist!reader who can’t remember him

warnings: mentions of an accident

synopsis: There isn’t much you remember from your old life, but you know someone is missing. When he comes to find you, you have to decide how many memories of the past are worth bringing back.

a/n: lmao please give my fic a chance, i promise it’s worth a read

word count: 7.5k

Deja vu.

For the longest time, Minho hadn’t understood what the word really meant despite all of Seungmin’s attempts to explain the concept to him. He just didn’t know how something could be so familiar and yet foreign at the same time, could feel like the past despite being the present, and he definitely didn’t believe that he’d ever be able to feel it for himself.

But on a sunny Monday afternoon, being dragged to the hospital by Felix, Minho understands. He feels, and he stumbles onto his friends in front of him.

“Minho hyung, are you okay?” Changbin asks, seeing the look on the dancer’s face. He absolutely would be pushing him back, if it wasn’t for the stricken expression that currently resides on Minho’s face “Hyung?”

“It’s her,” Minho breathes out, his eyes scanning the front of the hospital for the all-too-familiar smile that he’s sure he saw. Felix exchanges a glance with Chan behind his back as Minho bounds up the stairs, panting from the exertion it took to sprint across the courtyard. “It’s Y/N, I know it is--”

Felix frowns, “Y/N? Which one? I know there’s a receptionist working here who’s named Y/N, but...”

“No, you don’t understand,” Minho interrupts, whirling back to face the 3 others. If Jisung or Seungmin were there, Minho would’ve already been ripped to shreds, but Chan, Felix, and Changbin only stare at him worriedly. “My Y/N.”

It clicks in his friends’ minds, and Changbin surges forward to yank the hospital doors open. “It can’t be,” Chan insists, though he follows the other 3 inside. “Minho, Y/N broke up with you and said she was moving to England 2 years ago.”

Shaking his head, Felix sighs, “Okay, wait. Hyung, we have to go see Jisung, the others are waiting there for us. I promise we can go and look later, okay?”

Minho opens his mouth to protest, but his phone buzzes in his pocket. Hyunjin, probably, calling to make sure that they’re on their way to comfort Jisung about his broken leg. And Minho has never hated the squirrel-cheeked boy more as he sighs and nods, following the others to the reception desk that Felix claims is two halls down.

Of course, it isn’t. “I’m sorry,” the blonde boy sighs and takes his phone out. “I’ll call-- my friend. Hang on.”

He talks lowly over the phone, and Minho has to bite down, hard, on his own lip just to keep himself from running down the hall again. But soon enough, he hears Felix laughing, exchanging hello’s with someone, and he has to turn.

As soon as he does, the thing that he assumes to be deja vu hits him again, and Minho clutches his hand to his stomach. It’s you, in the flesh-- after all, no one would be able to replicate your smile so perfectly, and no one could possibly be able to mimic a face as perfect as yours. Your hair’s different than he remembers, but it’s been years, and--

“Hi. I’m Y/N,” you introduce yourself, shaking hands with Chan and Changbin before holding your hand out to him. “I’m Felix’s friend, the receptionist.”

“Uh,” Minho manages. Something about the look on his friends’ faces tells him no, that it isn’t the right time, but he can’t exactly stop himself. “Y/N, it’s me. Minho.”

Your smile is confused now, and your hand falters in the air. “I’m sorry, I don’t follow. Have we met?”

He frowns, stepping slightly forward, though not enough to alarm you. Felix looks panicked behind you, but he’s frozen in place as Minho says, “Don’t- don’t lie to me. Y/N--”

“I’m sorry,” Chan cuts in, stepping between you and Minho. “He... he had an ex, uh, with the same name. I guess you guys look alike too.”

You still look concerned, but you pass it off with a smile and a laugh. “Oh, that’s funny. Same name, same face? If she wasn’t your ex, I’d like to meet her.”

Changbin laughs for him, tugging Minho forward. “Yeah, it’s really funny. Uh, what room is Jisung in?”

With the prompt, you turn back to Felix and affectionately punch him in the arm before leading the way. Minho’s stomach twists with jealousy; after all, there’s no way two people who look and sound the exact same exist, especially with the same name, and he can’t shake the thought that you are the one he’s been trying to forget. But you make your way to Jisung’s room soon enough, and open the door for the 4 boys. “Here you are. Come get me if you need anything,” you smile, your eyes lingering on Minho for just a second before you leave. Maybe he imagines it.

“Yo, hyungs and Felix!”

Jisung shouts loud enough to distract Minho, and he turns to find the hospital room filled with his friends. Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Jeongin are crowded onto one tiny sofa, while Changbin has started to annoy them. Felix and Chan crouch by Jisung’s side while he waves and grins at Minho. “You see what Hyunjin has done to me?”

“I did not,” the long-haired boy protests, a tangle of long limbs under Jeongin, who’s basically treating him as part of the couch. “You tried that stupid trick after Seungmin dared you, it’s not my fault.”

“Shut up, both of you, and hand me a pen,” Minho grumbles, sinking to a side beside Jisung’s elevated leg. To be honest, he wants some excuse to see you at the desk again, to listen to your voice and compare it to the one always echoing in his head, but he distracts himself. “I’m drawing a dick and you can’t stop me.”

“Chan hyung,” Jisung whines while he tries to kick Minho away with his good leg. The cast is bright pink, to Minho’s amusement, and it picks up the black of his marker well. “Minho hyung, I’ll never forgive you if you make me walk around with a dick on my leg.”

Minho snickers, “You can’t exactly walk.”

Chan sighs and shoves Minho, though it’s light. “Come on, stop bullying him.”

“I have to go to physical therapy, too,” Jisung pouts. “You’ll embarrass me.”

“Oh yeah?” Despite all his bravado, Minho just signs his name near Jisung’s ankle, as messy and large as he can make it. “For how long?”

“We don’t know yet,” Jeongin speaks up. “Y/N’s going to come in and tell us, but I really want to go out and ask her.”

Excitement courses through Minho, and he stands up, the pen clattering to the linoleum floor besides his feet. “I can do it. I remember where the reception desk is.”

Felix looks concerned and he asks, “Are you sure you can... handle it? Hyung, I’m friends with Y/N, maybe I should go.”

Minho waves their concerns off, Seungmin leaning in to ask Changbin what happened outside. “I won’t embarrass you, Lix, at least not terribly. I’ll get Hannie’s results, and then I’ll be right back.”

As soon as he’s out of room 914, the warmth and light inside escapes, and the smell of alcohol burns Minho’s nose. In all his excitement, he had forgotten how much he hates hospitals, hates the way everyone inside only looks one step closer to death. But he peeks around a corner to where he remembers your desk to be and arranges a polite smile on his face as he approaches you. “Y/N?”

“That’s me, how may I--” You pause when you swivel around to him, but the smile reappears soon enough. “Minho, right? You’re done visiting Jisung this quickly?”

“Not exactly,” he chuckles. “Uh, I just heard from the others that they’re still waiting for his results? About how long he has to do physical therapy and stay here?”

You nod at that and pull your keyboard towards you. Gods, you’re so familiar-- the way your tongue pokes into your cheek as you type, the way you narrow your eyes despite being able to see the screen. Minho hates how much he remembers about you. It has to be you, he convinces himself, whether you’re lying about knowing him or not. “Ah. Well, hang on, the system’s a bit slow,” you chuckle.

“That’s okay,” Minho shrugs. It’s actually exactly what he wants-- time, for him to ask a few simple, nonimposing questions. “So, uh, when did you start working here? I’ve been here a couple times, never saw you.”

“I actually only transferred here last month,” you answer with a smile. “I used to work at the hospital downtown, Lixie met me there.”

“Lixie, huh?” Minho attempts at a smile, but you don’t know him well enough to see that it’s fake. “That’s cute. You guys are close? Did you help him there or something?”

You shake your head, typing something into the computer despite the loading screen. “No, actually, I was a patient at the time. I had amnesia,” you sigh, tapping your fingers on your chin.

Minho raises his eyebrows. His heartbeat is quickening-- depending on when you had amnesia, it’s a possible explanation for whatever’s happening. “Amnesia. That’s tough. Uh, how’d you get it? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t mind,” you smile, turning back to him. “It was about two years ago, I think. I got in a car crash, but I got lucky. My cousin was with me, so the doctors knew my name and all my essential information. It would’ve been a lot worse if I didn’t know who I was, you know?”

He opens his mouth to ask another question, but he feels an arm slide around his neck. It’s Hyunjin, apparently escaped from the confines of Jisung’s tiny room. “Hi, Y/N,” he greets. “Are we any closer to those results?”

“Just about,” you exhale, standing up. “They’re printing, I’ll go get those for you guys.”

As soon as you’re out of earshot, Hyunjin murmurs, “Chan hyung told me what’s up. So, you think it’s her?”

“I don’t think,” Minho hisses. “I know. She said she got in a car crash and had amnesia two years ago, and it matches up with why she doesn’t recognize me. She still knows her name because of her cousin, and- it’s her, Hyunjin. It has to be.”

Hyunjin hesitates, apparently not as convinced as the older boy. “But if she was with her cousin, wouldn’t she know about you? I mean, if it was me, I’d tell my cousin about the guy she just broke up with.”

Minho almost answers, but you’re back, sliding a file across the table. “Get that to Jisung, okay?” you grin, sitting back down. “And come find me if you need something else. Nice talking to you, Minho.”

Snatching the file away, the younger boy guides Minho back to the room. “Hey. If you really think it’s her,” Hyunjin says softly before opening the door again, “go for it. You still have the texts saved, don’t you? Show her. Even if you can’t help her remember, you’ll get your closure.”

Quietly, Minho shakes his head. “I- I can’t. Even if she never broke up with me-- which isn’t possible-- I can’t know that she’s still here, still alive, and that she’ll never remember me.”

Hyunjin reaches over to shake Minho and argues, “But she hasn’t changed. If she loved you once, she can love you again, okay? Just... just try. For yourself.”

Before he can debate Hyunjin again, Seungmin opens the door with a fake scowl. “Hey, what took you so long?”

“Asshole,” Minho frowns back, glad for something to argue about. Seungmin’s always the perfect one to bicker with, his eye rolls as he backs away to let the two boys in the perfect way to rile Minho up. “Hey, don’t you roll your eyes at me!”

For all of his friend’s glances at him, glances that he lets slip by as he ruffles Jisung’s hair rougher than necessary, Minho can admit to himself that he won’t approach you again, at least not for the purpose of finding out what truly happened. It’s difficult, but he can even admit to himself why he wont.

He’s scared. Terrified, even, that he’ll only find out what he knew all along.

You’re good with faces.

It’s kind of a requirement to be a receptionist; after all, nothing makes people happier than being remembered, even if it’s something as simple as being recognized without an introduction while arriving to physical therapy. Besides, after struggling to get back to your normal life for two years, your biggest fear is to lose your memories again.

So when Jisung gets driven to physical therapy a week after you meet his friends, you instantly recognize his driver.

“Minho,” you smile, waving at him. He flushes for some reason, and you stifle a chuckle at the tint of pink in his pale cheeks. He’s cute; your first meeting just put you off a bit. “How’re you doing?”

“Don’t I get a greeting?” Jisung pouts, pushing through with his crutches. He’s joking, of course, so you only laugh fondly. “Well, you know why I’m here.”

You check him in with a nod, and call out after Minho, “You don’t have to stay with him for PT, you know. It’s going to be boring, you can come back out after helping him inside.”

Minho laughs, “Thanks for the tip. I’m definitely not staying with him, I’ll be right out.” Jisung’s protests follow them down the hall, and you return to your keyboard with a soft chuckle.

It’s true that after your first encounter with Minho, you wondered whether there was something about your life before the accident that Dahyun didn’t tell you. But your phone broke in the car wreck, and there must’ve been things that you didn’t tell your cousin.

However, in the back of your mind, you can still hear the way Minho said your name. ‘Y/N’, he had breathed, so desperately. You had to have been important to him, too important for you to have never told anyone about him, but when he comes out of Jisung’s room, you assume the role of the friendly receptionist once again.

“Hey,” you wave. “Just so you know, Jisung’s scheduled for a full hour. I’m clocking out for the day in a couple minutes, but you can have him text you when he’s done so you can pick him up. I have to get going, I need to eat before I get on the tram, and it’s a long walk from here.”

Minho raises his eyebrows, shuffling his feet. “You’re clocking out?” At your nod, he clears his throat and offers, “If you haven’t eaten yet, I can drive you to the tteokbokki place near the tram station? I can drop you off, I won’t stay with you if you aren’t comfortable.”

You laugh at his awkwardness, though he’s charismatic enough to make it simply cute. “That would be great, actually. Just give me a second.” While you’re gathering your things, Minho shuffles aside, staring outside to the parking lot as if it’s genuinely interesting, and you crack a smile when you approach him. “Hey. I’m good to go.”

“Let’s go, then,” he smiles, and opens the door for you. The more you see of him, the more familiar he feels-- it really is as if you’ve met him before. Even his car feels like you recognize it, the steady thrum of the engine and the feel of worn leather beneath your fingertips something that you can’t quite put your finger on. Minho doesn’t speak much, though he puts on some music that feels vaguely familiar to you, some boy rapping over a simple beat.

Before you know it, you’ve arrived at the station, and it barely takes a couple minutes to walk down to the tteokbokki place. For some reason, you feel comfortable around Minho, safe, like you’ve felt with Felix and all his friends that you’ve met so far. Maybe the Australian boy attracts all the good people, you smile to yourself, or maybe you do.

“I’ll pay, what do you want?” Minho offers and takes his wallet out. Though you move to protest, he smiles and holds up a hand, “I insist. You’ve had to deal with me this much already, it’s the least I can do. Besides, you’ll be seeing me a lot, with Jisung’s PT.”

You can only agree and watch him rattle off your order to the cashier. Minho’s smile is almost the same for everyone, his eyes curving and his teeth bright, but it’s the eyes that make the difference. It’s interesting. “Are you the only one of Jisung’s friends who can drive?”

“Ah, not really. The 00 liners and Jeongin don’t have their licenses, of course,” he hums and hands his credit card over. “But Channie is busy with work all the time, and Changbin feels like Jisung bullies him. So that leaves me.”

“I see,” you exhale, following him to an empty table. “You must make quite a bit to afford a car and a parking space. What do you do?”

“Me?” Minho clarifies, even though he’s the only one you could be talking to. “I’m a dancer. Mostly a backup dancer, but sometimes I teach classes or choreograph for idols. I don’t make that much, but I drive all over Seoul, so I thought a car would be a good investment.”

“Not a bad decision,” you smile. “Especially since you saved me the walk over here. You know that every time you drive Jisung over, I’ll be forcing you to give me a ride, right?”

You’re joking, of course; you barely know Minho. But something about your tone changes the glance in his eyes, and his grin fades the slightest bit. Suddenly, he moves towards his bag. “C- can I show you something?”

“Sure,” you shrug. “As long as it’s not... you know.”

“You’ve got jokes,” Minho mumbles, digging through the pockets for his phone. “I like that.”

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, slightly heightened by his frantic scrolling. You greet and thank the ahjussi who brings you your food, still waiting for him to show you. Before he does, though, Minho looks up with a hesitant expression. “Y/N. Whatever I say, you can’t be alarmed, okay?”

“I can’t make that promise,” you shake your head, “but I’ll do my best.”

He inhales-- then exhales. “Your name is Y/N Y/L/N. You were born on _ _/ _ _/ _ _ _ _, and you were born here. You attended college at Seoul University, though you’ve probably forgotten your major. Your parents’ names are __ Y/L/N and __ Y/L/N, and your cousin is Kim Dahyun.”

Instantly, you bolt out of your seat, ready to run. “H-how do you know that?” Your voice shakes, and your eyes dart from Minho to the booth. He doesn’t look like a threat-- in fact, he looks pained, biting down on his lip before sliding his phone across the table. “What is that?”

“Just take a look.”

When you gingerly slide your eyes to the screen, you gasp; it displays what you assume to be an old photo of you-- and Minho. You remember Dahyun showing you pictures of yourself with that hairstyle-- high school, she said-- but you definitely don’t remember seeing any pictures with Minho. He’s unmistakable even in the uniform, and you’re laughing at him in a way that suggests what you’ve suspected since meeting him-- you were close, to say the least. “We were... friends?” you whisper, barely daring to meet his eyes. When he shakes his head, you lower your fist, previously held up to punch, and say softly, “We loved each other. Like that.”

“Yeah,” Minho sighs, taking his phone back. “By the way, does the date 5/19 ring a bell to you?”

“It was the day I woke up,” you answer. Suddenly, your throat is too tight to swallow, and you take your place next to him cautiously. “They... they told me I’d never get my memories back that day. What does it mean to you?”

Minho bites his lip and hands you his phone again. “It was the day you broke up with me.”

"Lee Minho,” you read aloud, “we need to break up. Ouch, that does not sound like me.”

He winces but tries to play it off with a chuckle, “Yeah, I know. I had to read that.”

“We have dated for years, but we...”

You frown and shake your head, scrolling through the text again even though you’re sure that you didn’t miss anything. “The wording, the phrasing... it doesn’t sound like me.” But that’s you on the profile picture, the exact photo of you that Dahyun showed you to gain your trust that first day in the hospital. You raise your head to look at Minho, who’s still staring at you. “This is fucked up.”

“You’re telling me,” he sighs, plucking his phone away. “I tried to text you back after this, tried to call you, but you never picked up. I did all I could, but I watched you leave. So... I think you understand why I was so desperate when I saw you.”

“I think I do,” you say, with your voice soft. It makes sense, now, why Minho looked like he was seeing a ghost when he caught that first glimpse of your face. Because you were a ghost, at least to him, somehow back from the dead in the lobby of the tiny hospital you worked in. “They told me my phone was dead. That’s why I didn’t have any of my old contacts, or my information.”

Minho fills your silence. “And that’s why you never saw my texts, or heard my calls. I- I’m so sorry, that I blamed you at all.”

You catch his wrist and try to smile, “Hey, I don’t blame you for blaming me. It isn’t possible for me to have texted you this with a broken phone and no memories, so... whoever did text you was an asshole. You can blame them all you like.”

His eyes flick over your face, almost like he’s committing you to memory in case you become a ghost again. “Yeah.” But the alarm rings, ten minutes before the last tram home leaves, and Minho’s phone buzzes at the same time. “Um. Can... can we talk about this again? Next time I see you?”

“Of course,” you answer. Maybe you’ll regret that promise, but you know that you’ll regret it more if you never search for what actually happened. And the glow to Minho’s smile when you say ‘yes’ follows you all the way onto the tram, or more specifically, the look in his eyes.

You’d already noticed that Minho looked differently at different people. His gaze was fond at Jisung, sometimes annoyed, and his eyes crinkled in a polite smile in front of the booth workers or your fellow receptionists. You had just never been able to tell how he looked at you, because it was strange, an expression you didn’t recognize.

But staring at his newly-inputted contact on your phone, you realize what it is. Minho looks at you like he knows you inside out, like he loves you more than anything else in the world.

And you aren’t sure which is worse.

Felix isn’t a good liar; from the first time you met, and he told you that you didn’t look horrible in that grimy hospital gown of yours, you knew that he’d never be able to keep a secret. So when you don’t know how to move forward from the whole other side of yourself that you just uncovered, he has to be the first one you talk to.

“Y/N!” He shouts your name with his hands cupped around his mouth despite only being a couple feet away from you, and he plops down onto the stool next to you. “What’s up?”

“Felix, what has Minho told you about me? Or, about Y/N?” He tenses up at the question, and you can’t blame him; you usually aren’t so direct, and it must be difficult to tell you about his friend’s secrets.

But Felix bites his lip and sighs, looks up at the ceiling as if it’ll tell him what to do. “Um, well... he said you guys were classmates. High school and college, but you only started dating when you were 17. He never showed me pictures of you, so I assumed that you hurt him really bad.” You wince at that, but motion for the Australian boy to continue. “Minho hyung... he never dated while I’ve been friends with him. We all thought it was because he was never over you, and I guess he still isn’t.”

“Well, shit,” you sigh, sinking into your hands. “I feel horrible now.”

“Why?” Felix places a gentle hand on your shoulder and shakes you lightly. “He said that you didn’t think it was you who sent the text, and Dahyun just didn’t tell you about him? It’s not your fault.”

You only shake your head hopelessly and attempt to explain, “I didn’t want to get back into this. I trusted Dahyun to tell me everything, and after 2 years, I find out that I had a boyfriend? Who I ‘broke up with’, and who I hurt really bad. I have to know now, for Minho’s sake if not for mine.”

Felix sighs, “Look, Y/N, I’m sure Minho hyung will understand if you don’t want to get into it all again. He- he loved you, but I think he knows you aren’t who used to be. I think.”

“No, Felix- he never told me that he wanted me to find the answer,” you say quietly. “I just... I can see that he’ll never be able to disassociate me with the Y/N he knew. My face, my mannerisms- Dahyun says I act the same as I used to, and that’s too painful for him if we’ll never know the truth.”

He pauses, then passes you the coffee that a barista slides across the counter. Maybe Felix doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what to tell you. But he murmurs in his familiar deep voice, “You’re kind, Y/N, but you have to think about yourself, okay? It’ll hurt Minho to not know, but it’ll hurt you to find out. And I don’t want to see either of you with a broken heart.”

The next time you see Minho, you find yourself analyzing every one of his movements, as if the tiniest hint of familiarity will bring your memories of him back to you.

You’re only drinking coffee together and trying to act like nothing else is between you, but you’re staring at his hands when he cracks his knuckles every so often. You wish that the way his lips curl into a smile was familiar, and you wish you recognized the way his eyelashes frame the brown of his eyes. But as much as you think you’ve seen something before, the fact remains that you barely know a single thing about Minho, while there’s nothing about you that you can hide from him.

It’s been years since you hated how little you remembered. Back when you first learned that the first twenty years of your life had been wasted, you screamed out for whatever all-seeing being to restore your life, and you had no idea if you could go back to the life you had been living with absolutely no memory of it.

Dahyun said she showed you everything. She brought you back to your family home, told you what she could about your parents, who hugged you with tears in their eyes. You stayed there at first, but you couldn’t handle the glances that your family made at you, couldn’t handle the way they still mourned the loss of their daughter.

You didn’t know enough about what used to be to miss it. But when you speak to Minho, you realize that there is something you would miss, something that you would want to chase. And so, you can’t know what it is.

“Y/N, you okay?” He asks, the smile still on his face from telling you about the cats you helped him pick out when he got his own place.

Shaking your head, you nod. “Yeah, sorry for zoning out. I’m just... thinking.”

“About what to do, right?” Minho takes your silence for agreement, and he turns to the window with a sigh. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking too. I shouldn’t have sprung that on you, I was selfish not to think how it would make you curious about your old self.”

“No,” you sigh. “I get it. You had to tell me, I imagine it’s still painful to see my face.”

Minho shakes his head, tilting his head as if that’ll let him see more of you. “No, it isn’t painful at all. I see you analyzing me, though, trying to recognize me.”

Heat rises to your ears, and you try to hide it by flicking your eyes away from his face. “Was I that obvious? I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Minho.”

“It’s okay,” he shrugs. He cracks his knuckles again; you imagine that you used to put your hands over his to get him to stop, but you brush the thought away as fast as you can. “What do you want to do, though? It’s too difficult to stay away from each other in a town like this, especially when we have a mutual friend. But I’ll try my best to do what you want me to.”

You bite your lip and tap your hands on your knee. To be truthful, you’ve known what you wanted to do for a long time; you know exactly what you want to say, and you know who you want to say it to. “I want us to talk to Dahyun,” you answer. “I think... I can’t ask her about it. But I want to see how she reacts to seeing you.”

When he doesn’t respond, you almost move to touch his arm. “Minho? You can tell me if you don’t walk to talk to her, I won’t force you to do it.”

But he turns, tries to disguise the rueful smile on his face. He fails, of course, and you draw your hand back. “No, I... I’m sorry, that just reminded me of something. I’ll come with you.”

“Okay. I’m going to lunch with her tomorrow,” you explain, scrolling through the calendar on your phone, “and I think that’s the time. I’ll just say you’re my friend or something, and we’ll see how she reacts.”

Minho frowns, “Is it suspicious to randomly bring a friend to lunch with your cousin? Or do you do that often?”

You sigh at that and pause your scrolling to think. “No, you’re right. I think I’ll have to say you’re my boyfriend or something, then she’ll be excited to expect you.”

“Boyfriend? How do you know I’m not dating someone already?” Minho jokes. You laugh lightly and push his arm without thinking, but his smile only grows as he protests, “I’m serious! Do you not think I’d be dating someone by this time?”

“I see the way you look at me,” you chuckle, “If you were dating someone, I’d feel bad for them.”

Silence settles again, and you wince, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have... shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, should be me that’s sorry,” he mumbles, ruffling his hair. “I shouldn’t be making you uncomfortable, I know that you’re a different person at this point. Uh, could you send me the location of the restaurant? And the time?”

You recognize his attempt to change the subject, and you accept it gratefully. “Yeah. It’s noon tomorrow, but I think we should arrive together.”

“I’ll pick you up from the hospital,” he smiles, moving to crack his knuckles yet again.

Maybe it’s out of nervousness, maybe it’s just a habit, but you move to stop it this time, your hand resting gently over his. “Stop that,” you mumble to hide the heat in your cheeks. “I read somewhere that it hurts your knuckles. You’ll get arthritis.”

“You work in a hospital, you should know that that isn’t how it works,” Minho snickers, but he doesn’t move your hands off him. Strangely, this feels familiar, like you’ve done it before, like it’s always been comfortable. So you don’t move, only sip your coffee with your spare hand and try not to think about what could’ve been.

Minho opens the door for you yet again, bowing slightly when you pass through the doorway. “She’s here already, yeah?” His voice is soft when he speaks to you, and his hands in his pockets when he catches up to you again in the restaurant. He’s the picture of calmness, except for the way his eyes flick around the restaurant like he can recognize your cousin before you do. “I haven’t seen her in years.”

“She went to the same school as us, didn’t she?” you mumble, looking through your texts again for the table number Dahyun texted you. “She’s a year younger, she told me.”

“Yeah, but Dahyun hung out with us a lot,” Minho explains, “she was pretty cool. Funny, too, I don’t know if she’s showed you her eagle dance yet?”

You laugh at that, turning onto the stairs. “She has, actually. Made me laugh instead of cry. I appreciate that about her.”

Dahyun’s easy enough to recognize; her hair’s bright blue among a sea of dark-haired people seated at the tables, and she’s a good head shorter than the people who sit around her. You rush up from behind her and wrap your arms around her neck, almost putting the girl in a headlock. “Y/N,” she complains, but there’s a smile on her face as she struggles against your grip. “Get off, I’m here to see your boy--”

Her smile instantly disappears when she sees Minho, but she rearranges it quick enough to bow to him. “Hi. I’m Kim Dahyun, Y/N’s cousin.”

So she wants to play like that. You give Dahyun another squeeze before sitting next to Minho on the other side of the table. “So, this is my boyfriend, Minho. What do you think?” you joke, keeping your tone as light as you can.

“He’s cute,” Dahyun answers. Usually, she’s good at keeping a hold of herself, but her voice sounds stifled this time, like she wants to lean over and punch him in the face or something. “I... Y/N, where’d you guys meet?”

Minho steps in to answer, “At where she works in the hospital. I keep dropping my friend off for PT, and I just keep seeing her.” That part’s true, at least, though you’re surprised at how charismatic and natural Minho seems while he lies. “She told me how she started working at the hospital downtown after being treated there, so I guess that’s how I never saw her before.”

Dahyun sighs, “Do you know what she was treated for?”

“Amnesia,” he frowns, “what else? Y/N told me that when we first met.”

A beat of silence passes, and you’re almost sure that Dahyun can see right through your lies, but your thoughts are cut off when she blurts out, “You’re lying, right? Minho, I don’t know if you’re lying to Y/N or if the both of you are lying to me, but you can’t be... you can’t be telling everything about this. She broke up with you years ago.”

“We all know that’s not true,” you say softly. Maybe there’s a hint of deadliness to your tone, though, because when you lean forward, Dahyun scoots back in her chair. “You told me my phone was dead on the day I woke up, the day that the texts were sent. How could I have sent those texts, from a shattered phone, without the contact that you wouldn’t tell me?”

The blue-haired girl presses her lips together, but she says, “Y/N, I don’t know what you’re accusing me of here.”

“No one’s accusing you of anything,” Minho shakes his head. “But we have to know. What happened here?”

Dahyun’s voice is almost too quiet to hear when she finally answers, “Minho, you would’ve been wrecked. And- letting her know that she would never be able to remember you... would’ve wrecked her more.”

You can’t keep your voice from getting louder when you ask, “So?” Minho squeezes your hand and you soften before saying again, “So? What did you do, Dahyun?”

“I texted him in place of you,” she blurts, clasping her hand over her mouth. Her eyes must reflect the hurt you feel, because you lash back when she reaches for you. “I... I never told you about Minho or any of your friends. I’m sorry, Y/N, I did what I thought was best, and all these years, I didn’t know... I didn’t know how I could fix that.”

Minho says nothing close to what you think he will, and he’s nowhere near as angry as you are. “I know why you did it, Dahyun,” he says. There are tears brimming in your cousin’s eyes, and you’re sure that Minho’s doing his best not to let them spill. “But- you knew me, knew Y/N. I don’t think you should’ve made that decision for us.”

“You definitely shouldn’t have,” you almost snap. You stand, tugging Minho up with you by his hand. “I... We have to go. I just need time to think, Dahyun.”

And if you were thinking rationally, you’d never leave like that. You’d never leave a conversation half-finished, with an angry end, but you can’t concentrate about anything other than the warmth of Minho’s hand in yours as you storm out of the restaurant.

Once you are hidden in an alleyway, he holds you by your elbows, as if he’s trying to stop you from running away. “Y/N,” he says softly, “look at me.”

When you do, you’re surprised at how blurry his face is, the shadows and highlights of his face swirled together in your tears. “We know now,” Minho continues. “I know you’re hurt right now, but I just want to say that you don’t have to know what to do now. You... we have time to think about what we can say about that information.”

“Stop,” you cry out, tearing your hands out of his grip to press them to your eyes. “Stop being so good to me. I know you only remember how much you loved the old me, and we have the same face, but we aren’t the same, Minho, you don’t love me. So- you don’t have to be so good to me just because you used to--”

He pulls you into a hug. It’s a bit aggressive, and you collide with him a little harder than you would in a normal hug, but against his chest, you can hear the sobs that he stifles in case anyone’s listening. “I’m not doing this because I used to love you, Y/N. I’m doing this because I think I can love you again.”

“That’s worse!” You push him away slightly, just enough to untangle yourself and your own heart. “Minho, that’s so much worse. You- you’ll never love me, you know. You’ll never stop seeing that Y/N in me. I just. I need to think.”

For the second time in that day, you end another conversation like you never would, but you keep your head down to hide the tear tracks on your face. There’s nothing you can say without hurting someone you seriously care about, no matter how much you wish you didn’t care about either of them.

You do. God, you do, and it hurts so much.

Jisung hobbles his own way into the lobby. He’s fast on his crutches, actually, and he almost doesn’t need you rushing to open the door for him. “Hey,” you smile, though you’re sure that your eyes are still puffy under your makeup. “Alone today?”

“Hyungs are all busy,” he pouts, though he obviously doesn’t really mind. “Y/N, have you checked your email recently?”

“Uh. No?” you answer, raising your eyebrows as you guide him down the hall. “Why? Did you send me something weird?”

He moves the crutch to smack the back of your leg, grinning even when you poke him as hard as you can without literally hurting him. “No. But there’s something in there I think you’ll want to see. I’ll see you in an hour, Y/N, hopefully.”

All of Jisung’s cryptic messages leave you scowling at the closed PT door, then frowning all the way back to your desk. You click fast through your inbox and ignore all the other messages for the one at the top, the one from [email protected], entitled ‘ywb’.

It’s a video message, and when you click on it, Jisung appears. “Hi, Y/N. I’ll keep this short,” he smiles through the screen. “But this message isn’t really from me. No matter what, I want you to watch the whole thing, can you promise me that?” You nod even though he’s in a whole different room, and he flashes a thumbs up like he can see it. “Cool. Enjoy, and try not to cry.”

The screen goes black, then flashes to a girl running through the snow. But she turns, and you gasp, because it’s you-- it’s a beanie and a scarf that you still own, sitting in your closet, but it’s a smile that you have only seen in pictures. And when you see the look in your eyes, you know who has to be behind the camera, and as much as you wish you wouldn’t, you’ve promised, and you keep watching.

Because every time that the outfit and the scene changes, your smile stays the same. You only see flashes of a hand, the peal of laughter under the soft music layered over, but you know. It has to be Minho, and you almost yearn to be the person in the videos again, grinning at him like there’s nothing else you can think of.

Slowly, he starts appearing in the video too, just flashes of the two of you singing at the top of your lungs in a karaoke booth, a short clip of you squirting him right in the face with a water gun. And the smile from the video makes its way onto your face, completely unconscious as you stare at the video.

Hours could’ve passed in minutes, and you wouldn’t have known, wouldn’t break from your trance until the screen goes dark again. But this time, Minho’s face appears, his features lit by a bright desk light in the darkness of his room. “Hi, Y/N,” he says softly, running his hands through his hair. “Thank you for watching this far. Uh... I just wanted to show you those videos. Because I just deleted them.”

He hums for a second before continuing, “I realized you were right. As long as I hold on to who you used to be, I’ll never be able to truly love you right now, even though I really want to. You aren’t the same person as you were, and even though you might not think so, I want to know you right now.”

Minho’s eyes curve sweetly when he reaches for the camera and fiddles with it. He smiles, “So if you can believe me, I want to take those videos again, with you this time. I’m more than willing-- no, I want nothing more than to get to know you again. So just... call me. Whenever you see this. I don’t really trust Jisung to get this to you in time.”

You manage to laugh through the blurriness in your eyes, but you’re already moving to pick up your phone when the video ends, Minho’s hand the last thing you see on the screen. “Hello?”

“Hey.” You can hear something in the background, probably the other people in his studio, but they get quieter as Minho talks. “I guess you watched it?”

“I watched it.” You save the video to the drive always plugged into the laptop, but there’s a small smile on your face as you imagine Minho staring into the mirror of the dance room as he talks to you. “How fast can you get here?”

“Uh. It takes 5 minutes to drive to you, so you can expect me in 10,” he answers. The smile on his face is audible, and your own grin grows when he covers the mic to shout at someone. “I won’t look gross, promise. But, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

He ends the call before you can say anything in return, but you smile at the phone screen all the way until you poke your head around the corner to shout at Seulgi. “Hey! I’m clocking out in 10!” Maybe the grin in the video is familiar after all as you reach for your bag.

While you’ll never get your past back, there’s always the future. You will never get the perfectly fresh start you want, but it’s a start nonetheless. It’s the step towards something new that you’ve been needing, and it’s with the person that you never thought you’d find again.

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myhockeyworld87 · 3 years

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Not So Dangerous Liaison - Sidney Crosby - Part 24

Word Count: 3,486

POV: Reader

Warngings: Language, NSFW, Smut

Notes: Sorry this is later than when I thought I’d get it out, but here it is anyhow. These two are finally back on track, but what will happen now that the season starts? As always love your feedback and Happy Reading! Let me know what you guys think.

Not So Dangerous Liaison Masterlist

Time flew in the twelve short days that you were away from Sid, though if someone had asked him, he would’ve told them differently. He facetimed you at least four times a day, along with numerous calls back and forth and more text messages than you knew what to do with. If you were being honest with yourself, you had to admit that you missed having him around all the time. You’d grown so used to be spending time together over the summer that even these few short days were rather hard.

Most of your time was spent, packing up things to move into Sidney’s house. It was mostly clothes and personal items, as his place was completely furnished, though it did feel weird leaving behind things. You debated about taking different knick-knacks that you had throughout your place, not knowing where to put them in Sid’s. He told you that it was your place now as well and to bring whatever you wanted, but you were still unsure. There was just this pit in your stomach that the two of you would be spending too much time together and you didn’t want to be moving all your furniture back in a month or so. You tried to tamper down that nagging feeling, as you finished hanging up the last of your clothes into your now shared bedroom closet. You had yet to spent the night at the house alone, even though you’d transferred almost all of your things. It just didn’t seem right without Sid there.

His plane was due in a couple hours, and you were frantically trying to finish up unpacking. He told you that he’d just take a car from the airport so that you wouldn’t have to be bothered picking him up, but there was no way you were going to let that happen. With fifteen minutes to spare, you headed off to the airport to await your boyfriend. The luxuries of flying first class allowed you to meet him at the private entrance instead of having to traipse through an endless number of people waiting at the terminal. By the time he touched down, you were leaning casually against the car just waiting for him.

The right side of his lips picked up into that smile you loved so much as he took his first step off the jet. “What are you doing here?” He was down the steps and halfway to you before you could answer.

“You didn’t think I would let some driver pick up my boyfriend, did you?”

Before he even thought about answering you, his lips found yours; crushing them to his as he kissed you as if you were his very life’s breath. “I should’ve known that you wouldn’t.” Another kissed followed. “God, I missed you.”

You were pretty sure the two of you would’ve gone on kissing for quite some time if it hadn’t been for the flight crew interrupting and asking where Sid wanted his luggage. As soon as it was stowed away in the back of the SUV, the two of you took off heading for home. “Did you get everything moved in?” Sid asked, lacing your fingers together as he drove down the highway.

“Surprisingly, yes. I thought I was going to be late picking you up but got all my clothes put away in record time.”

“Excellent, I can’t wait to see what you’ve done with the place.”

Sid was grinning from ear to ear, and you really didn’t have to heart to tell him that you’d moved nothing in but your clothes, so instead you changed the subject making small talk about the almost two weeks that you hadn’t been in Nova Scotia. There was no avoiding the subject once you were home though. “Where’s all your stuff?”

“In the closet.”

“No like furniture and pictures; that god awful lamp that looks like a thousand mirrors were shattered to make it.” You knew he hated that lamp, probably because he thought you broke the mirror and were headed towards an indefinite number of years of bad luck.

“Still at home.”

“But this is your home.” There was a seriousness to his voice that had been absent these last few days as well as on the ride home.

“Yes, but we agreed that I was keeping my place just in case.” Sid closed his eyes but it didn’t stop you from seeing him roll them.

“Yeah, I know, but babe this is OUR home now.” He emphasized the word our as if it was a new concept to you. “I want you to have your things here as well. I told you we could move out anything to make room.”

“I know you did. It’s just…” you trailed off not knowing exactly how to put things.

“What? Do you think this isn’t going to work? Because I can tell you it will, but if you’re having second thoughts…”

“No, it’s not second thoughts.”

When you didn’t add anything more, you could see his mind going into overdrive. “I get it.” He finally said, as if he knew what was in your head when even you didn’t. “We need a new place, one that’s ours and not something that was mine. I’ll call the realtor and we can start looking, or do you want to build.” Sid’s mind was in warp speed now and you were wondering if this is how he processed things on the ice this fast. “I mean you did just finish that house. There’s some really good land over by the practice rink. We could build there, pick a design we both like….”

“Woah,” you told him, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips, hoping to stop the incessant flow of thoughts that seemed to be spewing out of him. “I don’t want to move. You just bought this house, less than a year ago. It’s gorgeous, Sid, and I love the neighborhood. The house isn’t it at all.”

He kissed your fingers before taking them from his lips and cupping them in his hands. You could feel the clamminess there and knew that he was worried about what you were going to say. “Then what is it?”

“It’s hard to explain, but I just didn’t feel comfortable making those changes without you here. It doesn’t have to be done in just a few days; we have time. I just need to get adjusted to being here and then see what I want to bring. I guess you could call it baby steps.”

Sid exhaled his breath, a movement you could visibly see and feel. He didn’t need to tell you that he was relieved you were staying, for that simple act did it just the same. “Ok, baby steps it is, as long as you’re not going anywhere.”

“Well, I was thinking about taking you upstairs into OUR bed.” You gave him a little wink, then pulled him close to your body.

“Mmmm, well, in that case, lead the way.” The two of you spent the next several hours making up for lost time together. In fact, that was how most of the weekend went until Monday rolled around and training camp started. You and Sid adjusted to life together over the next couple of weeks, and despite all your earlier misgivings, being together as much as you were actually strengthened your relationship. You ended up spending more time than you thought at the arena helping with preparations for the home opener where the Stanley Cup banner would be raised in front of a sellout crowd. Which definitely helped give the two of you some space. It wasn’t until the first away game that things got messy.

Sid still sat with Flower on the plane, per your insistence. You were not going to take that ritual away from them. Which let you sit back and chat with some of the other guys, during the flight. You didn’t really see each other until you went to hand out the room keys. Sid took his with a little wink and then made his way to the elevator. It was about twenty minutes later that your phone beeped.

Where are you?

You shot off a quick, in my room, back.

You no sooner sent it than you saw those three little dots pop up, then disappear. They reappeared once more only to go away again. You finally set the phone down then went back to hanging your clothes up so they wouldn’t wrinkle. You’d just finished when you heard the knock at the door.

“Why do you have your own room?”

There was no point in him standing in the hall, so you opened the door to allow him to come in. “Did we not talk about this?”

“No,” and you supposed he was right and you hadn’t actually.

“Sid, this is a work a thing. I’m doing a job and so are you. When we’re on the clock, it’s strictly business.”

He seemed to think this over and that’s when you started to worry. “Ok, remind me what your job is again.”

You rolled your eyes at him but humored him anyhow by answering. “I’m here to act as a liaison, between the players and their families, as well as try to make things a little easier and more comfortable…” you stopped midsentence realizing your mistake.

“Ah, see you said it. I would be more comfortable if you were to sleep in the same bed with me.” He grabbed your waist pulling you close to him, and though you made an attempt, you still went willing into his arms. “I hate sleeping without you.” A cute little pout formed on his pillowy lips and suddenly you were mush in his arms.

“I hate sleeping alone too, but…”

“No buts. I’m either staying here or you’re coming to my room. Everyone knows we’re together. They won’t think anything of it.” His hands were gathering the material of your shirt, then sliding underneath it to caress your bare skin. You hated how he knew all your weaknesses and was currently using them against you. The gentle caress of his fingertips on your skin sent a tingling sensation all through your body. “So, which will it be baby, your room, or mine?”

“Sid,” you protested, albeit weakly. “We really shouldn’t.”

This time his lips went to the crook of your neck, where he dropped one kiss after another making you weak in the knees. “We should.” Another kiss. “We can.” He lightly nipped at the skin there. “We are.” You didn’t realize he’d backed you up to the bed until you felt your body lowering down onto it.

Sid hovered over you, his hips pressing into your intimately. “Wait,” you stopped him and you could see the frown already forming on his face. “We’re still keeping both rooms, and you’re napping alone.”

He sighed, a bit frustrated you could tell, but he nodded his agreement. “Though sometimes you could nap with me.”

“You’re very persistent.”

“You’re just noticing this now.” All you could do was shake your head and laugh at his comment. Of course, you knew he was stubborn on the ice; so why would this be any different. “I guess we’re staying here then,” he added with a wiggle of his brows before he kissed you long and hard. Sid’s hands were all over you, as he removed your shirt then your bra so that he could lavish attention to your breasts. A breathy sigh left your lips as he captured one nipple, his tongue swirling around it and making it taut before gently nibbling on the peak causing you to moan out.

His fingers stole down to your leggings, sneaking inside the waistband and cupping your sex. “So wet,” he hissed out loving the feel of your slickness on his digits. “I knew you wanted me to stay,” he added giving you that signature smirk of him. The retort you had died on your lips, as he rubbed slow circles around your clit. Around and around, they went, setting your body on fire, until your hips were lifting up into this hand.

“Stop teasing,” you breathed out, practically panting with need, as he continued to play with your pussy.

“Oh baby, I haven’t begun to tease you.” There was a wicked glint in his eyes and you knew you were in trouble. He removed his fingers from your body then, only long enough so that he could strip you from the rest of your clothes. He pulled you to the edge of the mattress, then started to trail kisses along your inner calf, all the way up to your thigh.

“Sid,” you whined, but he just smiled as he neared your core.

Instead of placing those luscious lips on your center, he kissed your stomach while his hands stole up and down your inner thighs. He made his way down until he finally reached your core, kissing all around your pussy lips and driving you wild until your hips bucked up. He backed off then. “Mmm, not yet baby. I’m not done teasing you.”

“Please, Sid.” You were outright begging now, needing him as much as you needed the air around you to breathe.

“See, this is why we need to share a room.” You should’ve known he’d work your body up to a frenzy only to point out that he was right all along. You wanted to argue but then he sucked on your clit and your mind hazed over in a cloud of bliss. His tongue worried the little nub, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body and when he slipped two fingers inside you, you thought you saw stars. “Is this what you want baby?”

Oh, how you did. You were so close to cumming and you knew he knew that. “Yes!” That one simple word echoed off the walls of the hotel room, and it was then you realized that you weren’t back in Pittsburgh in your own home and that quite possibly one of the guys could hear you. Instinctively, you clapped your hand over your mouth, as Sid started to pump his fingers in and out of you. When his lips found your clit again, you lost it; falling off the edge into the sea of pleasure.

Sid worked you through your orgasm, then quickly undid his pants pushing them down to the floor before kicking them aside. Cock in hand, he entered you in one swift motion and you couldn’t contain the moan that had been threatening to escape its confines of your fingers. Sid’s fingers dug into your hips as his cock thrust in and out of you; his groans now joining yours and you were sure that anyone passing by would be able to hear what was going on. “Fuck you feel so good,” he hissed out, thankfully in more of a whispered tone. His teeth were clenched as he fought the urge to cum inside you too quickly, wanting you to find that wave of pleasure once again before fulfilling his own needs.

Sid slowed his thrusts to stave off his orgasm, then brought your right leg up to rest against his chest. The angle of his cock hitting you just right, as he moved in and out of you. He heard the hitch in your voice, as he hit your g-spot and knew that you were close. “Cum for me baby.” The words fueled you as his cock pistoned your pussy. Your legs trembled as the second orgasm hit, your cunt squeezing Sid’s dick and sending him spiraling down with you.

A satisfied grin crossed Sid’s face as he lay down beside you on the bed, still with his shirt on. “Aren’t you glad I’m persistent?”

Your laughter filled the room, and while you were definitely grateful for that little escapade; you also knew he had a game tomorrow. “Get under the covers before I kick you back to your own room.” It was Sid’s turn to laugh, yet he followed your orders, stripping his shirt off before following you into bed.

Every away game from there on after, you ended up sharing room. Often getting teased by some of the guys when the two of you had been particularly loud, though Sid didn’t seem to care. In fact, you swore at times he was trying to make you scream on purpose.

Life with Sid was practically perfect. Neither of you seemed to get on the other's nerve, even with spending so much time with one another, which surprised you. If you were being honest, being together only made you love him more. The two of you were so comfortable in your routine you never saw things coming on January sixteenth.

It was the same as any other home game. You and Sidney rode together to the rink before the game with the Capitals, as you always did. Pulling into the parking lot, you gave Sid a long kiss before both going your separate ways. Sid took the same route to the locker room every time, even though it took twice as long to get there and while you adored him and all his little idiosyncrasies; you tried your hardest not to be a part of them, especially after the one time.

It was early in the season and you came across Sid in the kitchen, making his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “That looks good,” you told him offhandedly and he offered you a bite. You took it not thinking much of it, then went on about your day. When they won that night, again the sandwich never crossed your mind. That was until Sid made sure that the next game you were there to take a bite of the sticky sandwich at the exact same time as you had the previous game. Thus, it continued for the next seven home games until they lost and you finally put your foot down not wanting another peanut butter and jelly sandwich for quite some time. Since, then you stayed clear of your boyfriend during his pregame rituals, as much as you could.

So today, like every other day, you were at the locker room well ahead of Sid. “Hi Dana, need anything?” You always checked in with the long-standing equipment manager before all the excitement got underway.

“I’m good but you have a visitor in your office.” You gave him a questioning look, which had Dana adding, “It’s the Caps GM.” A sympathetic look crossed his face before you moved on, wondering the whole time what the rival team’s general manager could want with you.

The door to your office was open, and you saw Brian MacLellan looking at the pictures hanging on your wall. “Mr. MacLellan, it’s good to see you.”

“Hello, Ms. (Y/LN). It’s nice to see you as well.”

“Please have a seat,” you said taking yours behind the desk, trying to hide the nervous tremble that had entered your voice. Your mind scrambled back to your last game in DC, just five short days ago, wondering what had happened to have the GM in your office at the moment. Once he was comfortably seated you probed for a reason as to why he was there. “Is there something I can help you with Mr. MacLellan?”

Elbows resting on the armchair, he steepled his fingers together in thought, and your stomach lurched wondering what either you or one of the guys did that warranted this conversation. “Actually, there is. I’ve talked to quite a few people about your Ms. (Y/N).” Oh god, the timbre of his voice had an ominous quality to it causing you to sit a little straighter than you already were. MacLellan took note. “All good things, I assure you.”

“Well, that’s good to know.” Now if he would only tell you why he was asking about you.

The air in the room grew thick, as the GM leaned back in his chair relaxing a bit. “I suppose you’re wondering why I’ve been asking about you.” You nodded, not feeling the need to confirm what you both already knew to be true. “You see Ms. (Y/LN), the hockey community is smaller than one would think and it seems your name keeps popping up.”

This had to be because you were dating Sidney. Even though Mario had made no qualms about the two of you dating maybe the NHL did. Sid was practically the face of the league and they probably didn’t want it known that he was dating an employee. You felt yourself shrink back, not that you were ashamed of your relationship with Sidney, quite the opposite. It was more from that you just didn’t know what you were going to say if he told you, you needed to choose between Sidney and your job.

#not so dangerous liaison series #sidney crosby #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby imagines #sidney crosby smut #nhl smut #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfic #hockey smut #hockey fanfic #hockey imagine #hockey imagines

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teshamerkel · 3 years

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Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

Chapter 17 (22 Pages)

<< First | < Previous | Next >

Nia and Tobias track down their first outlaw!

TW: Blood/Injuries

“What’s up with you today?”

Nia jumps, looking over at Tobias in surprise. “W-What?”

The charmander huffs out an irritated puff of smoke, focusing his gaze on the scenery of the dungeon they’re in. “You’re all mopey. Have been since last night.”

“Oh.” Nia hops over a small rivulet of water, weighing whether she wants to tell the truth or not. It’ll probably just make him mad, considering who she’s worked up about, but she doesn’t wanna lie to him either. “I uh. I think I upset Xander yesterday.”

As expected, the charmander rolls his eyes. “That‘s reason to celebrate, not mope.”

“Tobias,” Nia warns. “You’re being a jerk again.”

Tobias grumbles something under his breath, but then says, “Fine. Whatcha do?”

Nia fiddles with the branch she’d picked out for her weapon today, spinning it in her fingers with clumsy movements. “That’s just it. I’m not really sure? M-My aura reading came up in conversation so I was just telling everyone how their aura looks, and when I told Xander he got all...quiet. Avery had to take him out of the room.”

“Did he even want his aura read?”

“Of course!” Nia says, giving Tobias a frown. “I wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t asked.”

Tobias doesn’t answer, and as the two of them walk, eyeing the walls and clefts of the rocky terrain for hidden ferals, Nia assumes he won’t. Then, he mumbles, “Maybe he didn’t like what you found.”

Nia’s ears flick back. That’s more or less the conclusion she’d come to as well. But all she’d told him was that his aura was red. Emotional, passionate. Why would that bother him so much? Sure, he always seems so calm and collected and with such an emotional aura he must have to work hard for that image, but it can’t just be that. She knows Tobias won’t know any better than she will, so for now she just sighs and moves on.

If she were in a better mood, Nia bets she’d really be enjoying the dungeon they’re in today. Apparently the mystery dungeon popped up in a small rocky riverbed, a bit scarce in terms of foliage, because the mystery dungeon itself has grown into a canyon-like labyrinth. Rocky brown stone, sunbaked and pale, and small streams of water flowing through the dungeon’s halls and rooms. Nia’s paws feel a bit rough from the scratchy, hot rock underfoot, but occasionally she steps into a shallow stream to cool down.

More than once she thinks she sees something move above her in the streams’ reflection, just a brief flicker of movement, but every time Nia looks up, the canyon walls are empty. She’s probably just paranoid about the outlaw. Hopefully. There aren’t any other signs they’re being watched, so she must be imagining it.

As for Tobias, he seems torn, probably enjoying the heated rocks and warm day but clearly hating the water he has to jump over and climb around. Still, this is the first dungeon they’ve been to since their reconciliation a few days ago, and despite the tension in his body he’s doing a good job of keeping things civil.

“So you said we’re capturing an outlaw? Uh, how exactly does that work?” Nia asks, trying not to sound as nervous as she feels.

Tobias jumps and heaves himself up onto a large rock blocking the narrow path, claws scrabbling, before turning to answer. “Criminals like to hide in mystery dungeons to avoid getting caught. So we have to track this guy down, knock him out, and take him back to the guild.”

Nia, branch tucked into the strap of their exploration bag and busy trying to haul herself up the stone, asks, “W-Wait, so he’s not feral?”

“Nope. Just an idiot who robbed a seed patch nearby.”

Nia slips with a yelp and slides back to the ground. She shakes out her stinging claws and glares up at the rock. “Dang it!”

Tobias snorts a laugh, looking down at her. “Am I gonna be called a jerk again if I decide to just sit and watch you struggle? Because it’s pretty entertaining.”

Nia groans. “I can’t help that I’m not built for climbing! I’m a dog for God’s sake.”

“What in Entei’s name is a dog?”

“If you help me up, I’ll tell you!”

Tobias rolls his eyes but dutifully stretches out on his belly, reaching his arms down. Nia backs up and takes a running leap at the stone. She hits the hard surface, and before her dull claws let her slide back down, Tobias grabs her wrists, yanking her up. Nia pulls herself over the top, plopping down to catch her breath.

“Ugh, I hate climbing!”

“Good, ‘cause you suck at it.”

Nia shoots the charmander a playful glare. “Hey, I used to be great at climbing trees when I was human! At least I can still swim.”

Tobias looks downright offended. “I’m a fire type!”

“And I have a dog body. We’re even.” Nia sits up, rights their satchel and retrieves her branch, then follows Tobias’ grumbling as he slips down the other side of the boulder and back onto solid ground.

They continue down the path (What floor are they on now? Fourth?), and after a few moments Tobias speaks up again.

“So?”

“Uh. S-So what?”

“What’s a dog?”

Nia blinks. “Oh! You actually wanna know?”

“Not really,” Tobias growls, “But these stairs are impossible to find and the ferals are hiding from the outlaw, so you might as well tell me. I’m getting bored.”

Nia hides a smile and looks up to the sliver of blue sky she can see between rocky canyon walls. How does she even explain something like this?

“Well...in my world, there are humans, and plants, but there are also things called animals. I would say that Pokémon are...mostly like humans? You’re smart. You can talk and you have a society and stuff. But most Pokemon look more like animals. Fluffy, or scaly, or resembling certain body types. Like...you look like a lizard, kind of. And I kind of look like a dog.“

“A...lizard?”

Nia nods, encouraged by his thinly veiled curiosity. “Yeah! Um, there are different kinds, but they all have a similar shape and stuff. Four legs, low to the ground, long tail, scaly. Um...you’re kind of like a two-legged version? Lizards definitely can’t breathe fire, though.”

“So I’m like a lizard but a lot cooler,” Tobias surmises.

Nia laughs, loud and caught off-guard. “Pretty much, yeah. Animals aren’t, uh, seen the same as humans, though. They aren’t...lesser, really? But they’re...different. They think differently. More simply, I guess. Lots of humans keep certain kinds of animals as pets.”

“‘Pets?’” Tobias echoes.

“Yeah! Like partners, kind of. Y’know, in their homes. They take care of them, and in return they get to watch them grow and bond with ‘em. They become companions, even if they might not think of us the same way.”

Tobias doesn’t answer for a few moments, carefully skirting around a puddle. “So the, uh...the animals don’t get a say in the matter?”

“Oh.” Nia stops, brow furrowing. “I mean...I guess not? But it’s almost like potting a plant in your house. As long as the animal’s happy and its needs are being met, it doesn’t really matter? Most house pets don’t really have a concept of like...captivity? I don’t think so, at least. I guess some smarter ones do, like monkeys.”

Tobias shoots her a look that’s surprisingly uneasy. “That still sounds unfair.”

Nia sighs. “It’s hard to explain when you don’t really have a concept for animals. Like, maybe dogs would’ve been a better example. They’re pack animals to start with, so when we take care of them they become part of our family, and they see us as their pack. They’re really happy with humans. It’s harder to tell with things like lizards or snakes or something, but dogs and cats definitely bond with humans like their own species.”

Tobias frowns, but not in the way that says he wishes Nia would shut up. This one looks more thoughtful. Nia doesn’t mind this frown as much. Eventually, he seems to settle on, “Humans are weird.”

“I mean, you’re not wrong. But the Pokémon world is still ten times weirder.”

Tobias snorts. “Hardly.”

“You have sentient trash bags, Tobias! And creatures that can use psychic powers! That’s not normal!”

Tobias cracks a grin. “Wait until you see a cryogonal or Mr. Mime for the first time. Now those are weird.”

Nia stares at him, surprised by the teasing and almost friendly tone of his voice. “Did you just say a ‘Mr. Mime’? As in that’s what an entire species is called?”

“You’ll know one when you see one.”

From there, the conversation dies off into a strangely comfortable silence as the two of them continue through the dungeon. Nia had almost forgotten where they were with how casually they were talking. The ferals of the dungeon still seem to be hiding from the outlaw (and that doesn’t make Nia nervous at all), but occasionally they hear one scrabbling along the stone just out of sight or growling in the distance.

They climb to the next floor, and then the next, and even there the ferals are still and silent.

“A-Are you sure we can handle this outlaw?” Nia whispers

Tobias rolls his eyes. “The mission was on the E-rank board for a reason. We’ll be fine.”

Nia nods, not any more assured than before. “H-How will we even know what they look like?”

“The mission said it was a panpour, idiot—" Nia shoots him a frown, and he softens his harsh tone. “Uh. Blue water type. Can stand on two feet? Long tail and big ears. Fuzzy. Plus, they won’t be feral.”

“R-Right.”

From there, the tension in Nia’s body only grows. It’s one thing to fight ferals that are clearly out for her blood, Pokemon that feel more like rabid animals than people, but fighting an outlaw...

The two of them round another corner, and before either can react, a huge spray of water slams into Tobias. The charmander is thrown back with an uncharacteristic cry of pain, into Nia, and the two of them tumble to the ground in a heap.

Nia’s first to stagger back to her feet, shaking her wet fur and looking up to find what must be the outlaw darting into the narrow canyon hallway where they are. He looks like a blue...monkey? Slightly smaller than her and Tobias, but fast. Maybe the most startling thing is how coherent the monkey looks, eyes flashing not with a mindless aggression but with an expression of intentional malice.

“You two are Seekers? You’ve gotta be kidding me—I heard you from across the map!”

The monkey braces himself and rears back, cheeks puffing. Nia barely realizes what he’s doing in time to jump between the next spray of water and Tobias’ shaky form. The water slams into her like a fire hose, and she grits her teeth and tries to stay on her feet as she slides back. She never knew water could sting so badly!

The attack stops, and Nia looks back to the monkey with wide eyes, panting. Except he’s gone, leaping past and behind them again—

“Gotta move,” Tobias gasps out, finally getting his legs under him.

“What?”

Instead of answering, the charmander grabs Nia’s arm and runs for the room the monkey had come out of. They barely make it in before another jet of water is shot at them from behind. They fling themselves off to the sides, to the safety of the room’s walls, wild eyes meeting.

“We’re not trapped in such a tight space here,” Tobias explains, seeming like he’s finally caught his breath again. Nia’s still a little shaken by how a single water move hurt him so badly, but nods.

“N-Now what?”

“We beat him into the dirt!”

The monkey comes barreling into the room, skidding around with a grin. “Good luck with that, kiddos.”

Tobias lunges forward with a snarl, but Nia hesitates, watching as the monkey dodges the charmander’s slashing claws and tail whips with nimble ease. Tobias only spares a puff of small embers here and there to throw the outlaw off, focusing more on physical attacks.

The monkey shoves Tobias away from him, then claps his hands together. In an instant his body is glowing a bright blue (and in a moment of confused panic, Nia thinks he’s using aura). But then a cloud of shining blue water sprays out and around the room. The air feels damp and misty now. Tobias snarls, then goes back to madly swinging at the monkey, no longer using his flames.

The monkey dodges and weaves, takes a moment to time his shot, and then spits a strong jet of water straight into Tobias’ face. The charmander makes a pained sound and stumbles back.

Then the monkey turns to Nia, smirking. “So what’s with you, pup? Just letting your partner do all the work?”

Nia swallows hard and takes a step back, holding her branch in front of her like a sword. Her heart is roaring in her ears and her stomach feels knotted up. This feels different than fighting ferals, somehow. She still doesn’t know how to fight anyways, not really, not with just a few lessons, and it’s one thing to counter mindless ferals, another entirely to be able to hold her ground against someone like this! This is like...an actual person!

“Nia, snap out of it!” Tobias growls, lunging at the monkey again.

The charmander is clearly wearing down, but Nia can’t seem to unfreeze herself, staring at the fight in a panic. This is so different. This isn’t defending someone—or yourself—from a rabid animal, this is willingly going toe-to-toe with a criminal.

She can’t do this. Not on a physical level or an emotional one.

With a few more nimble dodges, the monkey is once again shoving the charmander away and blasting him with a water move. Tobias falls to the ground and doesn’t get back up.

The outlaw turns to Nia, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “I’m actually a little offended that the guild thought you two could bring me in. What is this, your first day?”

Nia doesn’t answer, gripping shaky fingers tighter around her pathetic weapon. Her eyes flick nervously from the outlaw to Tobias, and she knows he’s not dead or anything, his tail flame is still flickering, but seeing him so still in the dirt is making her chest tighten with fear. She doesn’t want to see anyone hurt, not even a criminal, but she’s already grown a bit fond of the sharp-tempered charmander and he can’t do this on his own so she has to fight—

The outlaw must be sick of waiting for her response, because the next thing she knows she’s being blasted into the wall by a painful jet of water. Her head bounces off the canyon wall, but she stays on her feet, shaking her head to get rid of the stars in her vision. As she does, she sees the monkey grin.

He’s enjoying this. Enjoying hurting them.

Fighting ferals is one thing—they don’t know what they’re doing, they aren’t actively, consciously trying to hurt people. And in a way, that’s easier. But this guy? This guy’s just a jerk who stole some items and is beating up two teenagers for fun, getting some kind of sick enjoyment out of it. Yes, he feels more like a person than the ferals, but doesn’t that just make it worse? That he’s doing bad things intentionally?

Suddenly, her fear feels a lot more like anger.

The monkey goes to attack again, almost lazily, and the riolu moves, pushing off the wall. She sprints for the monkey, taking him by surprise and swinging her branch around to slam into his stomach.

The monkey staggers back with a wheeze, and for a split-second Nia hesitates. He didn’t react how ferals do, didn’t just shake off the hit with an inhuman growl and a counterattack. He’d grabbed at his stomach, grumbled under his breath like a person, and something about hitting him so solidly, seeing the damage she did to him, it still throws her off even through her adrenaline rush.

And now the monkey’s angry, wiping at his mouth to glare at her. “Oh, so you were holding out on me, huh?”

He darts forward, and it’s all Nia can do to keep his claws and sharp teeth away from her body. She’s on defense now, smacking away attacking limbs with her branch and stepping steadily back, keeping her eyes focused on the monkey’s body and letting her peripheral vision react to the lightning-fast strikes like Val taught her. It’s terrifying and doesn’t even leave her time to think about what she’s doing, her body working fully on instinct.

It’s a little bit exhilarating, too.

But then the monkey’s hands change target, grabbing Nia’s branch and yanking it out of her hold before she can register what’s happening. In one swift movement, he snaps the branch in half and chucks the pieces over his shoulder. Then he lunges at her again, and she barely manages to catch the monkey’s hands in her own. Her head snaps up to meet his grin a heartbeat before he blasts her with another water attack. The move knocks her back and off her feet, and she rolls to the side to avoid a follow-up attack.

The monkey just keeps coming at her, and she’s scrambling back to avoid it, thoughts racing, about to block a hit to the face when something small blurs past her vision to hit the outlaw right on the forehead. He shouts, staggering back. Nia sees what looks like a little yellow seed tangled in his short fur, taking root on the skin of his forehead.

“Idiot.”

Nia jumps, turning to see Tobias padding over, worse for wear but still standing. Then she remembers what she’s doing and falls back into a defensive stance.

Except the monkey is staggering around in circles like a drunk man, falling this way and that in a desperate attempt to regain his balance, tail flailing. He’s frowning, blinking hard like he’s trying to concentrate.

“Totter seed,” Tobias explains, shooting Nia a wicked grin. “Dumb ‘mon left his stolen goods sitting over there in the corner.”

Nia’s mouth falls into a little “o” of surprise. “So he’s confused now, right?”

The outlaw grunts and shoots off a vicious jet of water that makes Nia and Tobias flinch even though he’s facing the wrong direction.

“Yup. Let’s finish this since you finally got yourself together. Why do you always wait until I’m beaten to a pulp before finally fighting back?”

Nia barks a laugh, beyond relieved to feel back in control of the situation. “Let’s call it a lesson in ego.”

Tobias snorts and moves to attack. Nia, not wanting to get in his way, positions herself on the other side of the outlaw, so the monkey is left staggering between the two of them. Without his wits about him, the outlaw’s speed is useless, and he flails weakly in the wrong direction as Tobias slams the smaller Pokémon with his tail and sends him towards Nia.

She takes the opportunity, uneasy about using her own fists instead of a weapon. But no, Val’s been teaching her how to punch and kick, so she needs to try to use that knowledge. She goes with a set of punches before shoving the monkey back Tobias’ way. The feeling of hitting solid warmth--fur and muscle and bone--with her own two hands is unnerving, but she tries her best to ignore it as they bat the outlaw back and forth. It’s like the world’s weirdest and most violent game of monkey in the middle, with a literal monkey as the ball. Nia almost laughs aloud at the thought.

Of course, the outlaw chooses that exact moment to blink out of his confusion, used seed falling to the dirt. The monkey bares his teeth, beaten and bloody and livid, then turns and grabs Tobias, swinging the charmander around and flinging him into Nia. The two fall with a pained yelp into a tangle of limbs.

The outlaw is breathing hard, clearly hurting but not willing to give up the fight. As Nia and Tobias rise back to their feet, side-by-side, the riolu takes a moment to appreciate the feeling of the charmander at her side in the heat of battle. For maybe the first time, she thinks she understands what it means to really feel like a team, to have a real partner.

Then the outlaw dashes forward, and the two of them move at once, bumping into each other—her arm jabs his side, he steps on her foot—and in the confusion the monkey bowls into them both. Sharp, blinding pain shoots through Nia’s right bicep, and she cries out, kicking at the outlaw whose jaws are locked around her arm in a vice grip. She rolls, claws, even tries to manifest her aura, but he just sinks his fangs in deeper. She feels blood gush out, hot and slick.

God, it hurts.

Then, there’s something else tugging at the monkey, and she squeezes her eyes open to see Tobias with his arms around the outlaw’s middle, his own teeth latched around the monkey’s shoulder and tugging hard.

Finally, the monkey is ripped free, and Tobias throws him away. Nia presses a hand to her injury, but keeps her eyes squinted open to watch eye the outlaw. The monkey manages to land on his feet, then tries to leap forward again. Nia braces herself.

“Back off!” Tobias snarls.

And then all she sees are blinding purple flames, beautiful and hot even from a few feet away, engulfing the monkey with a flare of light. Nia watches, breathless, as the ball of flames lands hard, smolders, then slowly putters out. The outlaw’s body is left charred and black in the dirt, and Nia only breathes out when she sees the faint rise and fall of the monkey’s back. For a moment there, she’d thought Tobias had killed him.

“You okay?”

Nia jumps, then looks over to Tobias, crouched down at her side and frowning. His expression is odd, somehow. Pinched.

“W-What was that?” She asks, awed voice raspy. It takes her a moment to realize that she must’ve been screaming when the outlaw was biting her, because her throat feels a bit raw.

Tobias blinks. “The fire? I, uh. I think I might have learned dragon rage?”

Nia’s eyes widen. “Dragon rage? That’s sounds awesome!”

Tobias’ expression finally breaks into something lighter, amused. “It is awesome. Now stop stalling, show me your arm.”

Nia hadn’t been meaning to stall, but now she wonders if she even wants to see what the monkey’s sharp teeth did to her. With a hiss, she slowly removes her hand, now sticky with blood. She can feel her heartbeat pulsing at the wound.

Tobias sucks in air between his teeth.

“T-That bad?” She asks, voice wobbly.

“‘S not pretty,” he admits. “Here, hang on...”

Nia watches as Tobias leans close and rummages through the satchel still hanging around her shoulder. He pulls out an oran berry, frowning.

“I thought we had two?”

“W-We did.” Nia had packed them herself.

Tobias looks around, then groans, slumping. Nia follows his gaze, recognizing a smear of smashed blue pulp in the dirt. Great. Must’ve fallen out and gotten stepped on in the scuffle.

“Well, at least eat one,” Tobias says, lifting the berry up to her mouth.

Nia leans back. “But you’re all banged up too, and—“

The charmander rolls his eyes, but there’s less venom in the gesture than usual. Maybe it’s the exhaustion weighing on them both, but Nia would almost say he looks concerned. “My skin’s stinging and I’m exhausted, but I’m not bleeding out through my arm. Eat it.”

Nia hesitates, but takes the berry, chewing it up and letting the sweet tang burst over her tongue. As soon as she swallows, she already feels a bit better. Tobias scoots closer, reaching up to hold her arm with one hand and feeling around the bite with the other, intensely focused. He’s gentler than Nia thought he’d be, but she still winces at the pain.

“The worst of the wound is closing up, but we should probably still staunch the bleeding,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

“W-Would my scarf work?” Nia asks.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Is it in the bag?”

Nia nods, and Tobias rummages through the satchel again with his now-bloodied hands, finally bringing out the red scarf that the riolu has had for weeks. She actually wants to wear it now to symbolize their newly remade team, but she’s still not sure where to wear it. The collar of fur around her neck is just so darn fluffy!

Tobias tugs at the material as if to test its strength, and then nods, satisfied. He scooches around Nia again to get a better look at her wound.

“Don’t move,” he says.

Nia hums an affirmative, closing her eyes and trying not to think about the blood she can feel all over her arm, tacky as it starts to dry. The charmander carefully arranges the scarf around her bite, circling the material twice, before pulling it tight.

Nia flinches and almost tugs her arm away. “Ow!”

“Sorry,” Tobias grumbles, still focused on his work. “Hold still.”

Nia tries to, sniffing back pained tears as the charmander ties the scarf into a knot. When he’s done, he leans back. “How’s that?”

Nia looks at the patch job, a little amused and a little nauseous seeing the bright red scarf against the darker crimson blood staining her arm. That’s gonna be a pain to get out of her fur. She gingerly moves her arm back to her side, slowly bending it to a lax position. It definitely still stings and the muscles are probably bruised, but...

“Much better,” she says, meeting Tobias’ eyes with a shaky smile. “Thanks, doc!”

The charmander rolls his eyes, but his face flushes red and embarrassed as he pushes himself back to his feet. “C’mon, let’s get this loser back to the guild.”

Nia struggles to stand, a bit woozy, but nods. “Right.”

Tobias gathers up the stolen bag of seeds, finds their badges in their satchel, and pulls the charred monkey onto his back, lip curled in disgust.

“You really did a number on him,” Nia says quietly, impressed. “You said that move was...dragon rage? Did you just learn it?”

Tobias shrugs as well as he can with the outlaw on his back, looking uncomfortable. “I guess. That happens as your battling experience goes up and you get stronger. Definitely handy that I learned a dragon type move after that water sport he pulled.” He pauses in the middle of sending out a pick-up request via their badges to give Nia a look. “Speaking of—what’s up with you not using actual moves? I thought you would have adapted to fighting hand-to-hand by now.”

Nia sighs and glances at what remains of her makeshift weapon, lying discarded in the corner of the room. “I guess I really should stop depending on a weapon so much. Didn’t do me much good today.”

“No, not that,” Tobias waves her off. “I mean, yeah, that too, but even when you were punching, you weren’t using moves. You were just using basic body attacks. Why?”

Nia blinks at him. “Uh. What do you mean I wasn’t using moves?”

The charmander blinks back at her. “You…you didn’t know you weren’t?”

“I thought I was! I was punching a-and kicking and stuff! That’s what fighting types do, right?”

Tobias opens his mouth to explain, but then seems to reconsider and just heaves an exasperated groan. “We need to talk to Val tomorrow. Arceus, I thought you just weren’t using ‘em for some dumb personal reason, not because you didn’t know how to use them at all.”

Nia’s ears pin back. “I...I thought I was using them.”

“And I haven’t seen you two spar much since I’ve mostly been with Azami, so Val might not even know that you don’t know…” Tobias trails off, more to himself than to Nia. “We’re talking to her about this tomorrow. It’d help if you actually knew how to use your moves. And how to not freeze in battle until I’m half dead.”

His tone is harsh, but lacking the old bite it used to have. Nia still whines and buries her face in a hand, embarrassed. “I’m sorry! I promise it’s not on purpose. It just really caught me off guard, fighting a Pokémon that wasn’t feral.” Nia tries to latch onto something other than everything she’s apparently doing wrong. “A-At least we can tell Azami about your new move tomorrow too, right?”

Tobias nods, looking the faintest bit proud. “True.”

Their conversation is cut off as one of the retrieval psychics at the guild calls them back in a beam of light. Nia’s stomach flips, and when they land back on solid wood, the riolu collapses to her knees.

“You aren’t gonna pass out, are you?” Tobias asks, frowning at her.

Nia squeezes her eyes shut, fighting off a wave of nausea and lightheadedness. “N-No, I don’t think so. Just the blood loss, I’m pretty sure.”

There’s the quiet murmuring of voices, and the shifting of Tobias handing off the outlaw to the psychic type. Some more talking, and then the charmander’s light footsteps return to her side.

“Maggie’ll have some spare oran berries lying around if you can get back to the room.” Tobias says. He sounds a little awkward, like being any form of encouraging with his words is physically making him uncomfortable. Nia almost smiles.

“I...I think I’m fine.” The riolu blinks open her eyes, glancing around. The psychic type taking care of their case (not an abra, but an adorable, green jelly-like Pokémon who is shooting her worried looks) has the unconscious monkey chained up in psychic bindings, presumably to wait for law enforcement to take the outlaw away. At least, that’s what she guesses. She’s never done this before. Are there Pokémon police? Are they the police? She needs a badge. Wait, she has one of those.

“Okay, c’mon, before you pass out on the floor,” Tobias grumbles, hesitating before wrapping a warm arm around her back to help her to her feet. Nia stumbles, then slowly allows herself to put some of her weight onto Tobias. The charmander slings her uninjured arm around his shoulders, face flushed with embarrassment as he pointedly avoids her gaze. Then, the two start their arduous trek up the stairs to Maggie’s quarters.

Once or twice Nia considers thanking the charmander for helping her like this, but he’s already burning with embarrassment—quite literally, he feels hotter than normal—so she lets it be.

“Maggie’s gonna be so mad,” Nia mumbles when they’re nearly there.

Tobias has relaxed enough (or is maybe just exhausted enough) to snort a laugh. Nia can feel it rumble through his ribs, pressed against her side.

“She’s gonna be ticked at both of us,” He agrees. “I don’t know why she always throws such a fit when we get hurt. It’s part of the job.”

“Occupational hazard,” Nia agrees with a tired smile.

The two are silent the rest of the way, and sure enough, as soon as they step through the door, Maggie descends on them with all the worried wrath of a mother scolding her terrible, danger-prone children.

Nia relaxes and lets herself be babied. Her chest hurts just as much as her arm, something in her finding Maggie’s motherly worry familiar and comforting, in an aching, longing sort of way, so she lets the meganium fuss over her injuries. She’s feeling far too fond of the situation, really, as she watches Tobias stubbornly shooing Maggie away from his own wounds. It’s nice, to be cared about. To have somewhere safe to come home to.

#pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #pokemon #panpour #charmander #riolu #pmd seekers of soul #tesha draws #tesha writes

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sritzthefirefly · 3 years

Text

The Not-so French Mistake

Pairing: Slight Dean x reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Language

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. Any and all comments on this are appreciated. I’m sorry for any grammatical errors that I might have made. This is my first fanfiction (as a one-shot, I've written a few earlier in poetry form) so please go easy on me.

“You are going to die.”, he states nonchalantly, as if three men entering your house and telling you that you are going to die is an everyday occurrence.

“I…WHAT?!”, I shout, my eyes round as saucers.

Well, today was a seemingly normal day. Until the seemingly normal day wasn’t as seemingly normal as I thought it would be.

2 hours earlier

“Hey, I’ll be leaving now”, my best friend said as she packed the small handbag she always carried around with her.

“Don’t forget the pickle jar and then come back 15 minutes later telling me you forgot the one thing I reminded you about”, I shouted to her from the top of the stairs.

She turned around to pick up the jar from the centre table when her eyes landed on me and she whistled. I pulled the drawstrings of my silk dressing gown tighter as I walked down the stairs.

“Ooooh, would you look at that, someone’s looking good. So, are you going to sleep after I’m gone, or are you going to have some company tonight?”

“I…..I just can’t……not so soon after...ummm……I know I’m stupid but I just wanted to feel good about myself”

She closed the few steps between us and hugged me tightly.

“Hey, you know he’s an asshole. His words don’t count, ok? No guy has the right to make you feel bad about yourself”, she said, pulling away.

“But he…….”

“No missy, you listen here, he’s an idiot who doesn’t deserve you. He should feel lucky he’s not in town or I would’ve kicked him so hard in the balls that impregnating a woman would’ve been a foreign concept to him.”

I gave her a small smile.

“Thanks for hyping me up, love. I’m now going to have ice cream and cry my heart out to sad rom-coms.”

“Bitch, you hate rom-coms. You’re just going to binge-watch Supernatural and you’re not telling me that because you won’t admit that you’re obsessed with the show”.

“Okay, okay whatever……Aren’t you getting late for your train?”

She looked at her watch.

“Oh shit! Bye, see you later.” she said as she ran out of the door, slamming it behind her. I sighed to myself and walked over to the TV, switching it on.

“Self-care time for me now!”, I said to myself, as I opened the fridge to get my favorite ice-cream when suddenly, the doorbell rings. I immediately turned my head towards the centre table and sure enough, the pickle jar was there.

Shaking my head, I picked up her precious jar and walked over to the door, pulling it open.

“I knew you……..”, I stopped short when I saw who was standing outside.

There, standing on my porch were, none other than, Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki.

And then I woke up.

Yeah, if only it happened that way.

I knew I was looking like an absolute fool in front of them, opening and closing my mouth like a fish, my eyes wide and my breath short as I stood there, taking in the two handsome men adorning my doorstep. They were dressed in their Sam and Dean outfits -plaid, over layers of plaid- it seemed like a scene straight out of a set.

“Hi! You’re Y/N right?”, Jared said in his usual husky voice while Jensen stood beside him, strangely staring at me with something akin to awe in his eyes.

“W…what? I…uh…yeah…I…I am Y/N”, I somehow managed to choke out.

“You’re awesome”, Jensen Ackles breathed out with a sigh with literal heart-eyes in my direction. He cleared his throat and blinked twice and then seemed to step out of his reverie. He gave me a small smile and looked me up and down with a small smirk and I blushed furiously. Wait, was Jensen Ackles checking me out?!

Okay, so there were either of these two things going on- either I was dreaming or I had completely lost my mind. But since I had already pinched myself and well, that damn pinch did hurt, so the situation pretty much tilted towards the latter side. I mean, Jensen Ackles knows me and he thinks I am awesome?!

“Yep, definitely not a fan”, Jared whispers somewhat sarcastically to Jensen to which he replies under his breath with a “Shut up, Sammy!”

I would have paid more attention to what Jensen said had I not had my whole focus on Jared’s last words.

“Ummm…..excuse me? No offense but I’m standing right here and you can rest assured that I am 100% a fan, of both of you. If you don’t believe me, ask me anything about Supernatural.”, I say, crossing my hands across my chest.

“Wha-Supernatural? Like the book Supernatural? You have that here too?”, Jensen asks seemingly surprised.

Alright, is this a game for their show? I thought to myself, utterly confused and dazed. They seem to know my name and well, address too and that can be the only logical explanation as to why Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki are here, on my doorstep. But I couldn’t see any cameras nearby. Maybe they were hidden? Maybe I was meant to be taken by surprise? Oh shit, did I just challenge them right now? Was this being filmed? My mind rushed with a million things- ‘Oh god, I must be looking so stupid right now, acting like a blobfish instead of doing anything!’

I opened my mouth to say something, anything at all, when Jared cut through.

“Ummm I’m sorry, Y/N, but it’s not really a good idea to be standing outside and talking. I promise we’ll explain everything. Can we please come inside and talk?”

“I….uh…..yeah sure. Come inside please.”, I was about to ask what their deal was but changed my mind when I saw Jensen nervously looking around and then back at me, pleadingly.

I closed the door behind me as they settled on the plush red sofa. I walked across the room and sat on the chair facing them.

“Y/N”, Jared started. “There’s no easy way to say this but I’m Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean. Like, from Supernatural.”

“Ummm…. I’m aware? Despite your contrary belief, I told you I was a fan.”, I said, confused.

“You’re our fan?!”, Jensen asked, somewhat stunned. “Haha sweetheart, am I living my dream!”, he added, his emerald eyes twinkling.

I stared at him through my eyelashes.

“Hold up, quick question, are you a Dean girl or Sam girl?”

“Dean, not now…..”, Jared sighed.

“Dean girl!”, I blurted out, immediately blushing deeply. Jensen’s entire face lit up and I hurriedly added, “No offense to Jared here.”

“Jared? You mean Jared Pada-whatshisname?”, Jensen asked incredulously.

“Padalecki, Dean”

“Son of a bitch! Fake us lives in the same universe as her!”

I started laughing and the both of them turned towards me quizzically.

“Ummm what is this? Some spin-off of The French Mistake?”, I asked.

“The French what?”, Jared looked at me, his eyebrow raised.

“That’s not important right now. Y/N, I know, it’s hard to believe us right now, but we are not your TV actors-we are not Jensen and Jared. I am the actual Dean Winchester and he is my brother, Sam Winchester. The trickster, the archangel Gabriel, owed us a favor and he let us travel into your universe.... Sweetheart please, you have to believe me. I umm uh, I have been a-”

I stood straight up from my chair, angrily.

“I’m sorry but what kind of prank is this? Going to people’s houses and-”, I started angrily when suddenly the entire room got spontaneously flooded with an immensely bright light.

“Cover your eyes!”, a deep, somewhat robotic voice filled the air and I immediately did so to lessen the risk of my precious peepers being completely burned out by an unknown source of dazzling light in my seemingly normal house in the middle of a seemingly normal (absolutely weird) day.

Slowly, the light faded.

And there stood Misha Collins-

No, that could not possibly be Misha. Unless Misha had suddenly evolved to be able to exhibit bioluminescence or had sprouted long black wings from the back of his trench coat or had learned to hover like a bee in mid-air. No, definitely not Misha.

That means, this must…this must be-

“Holy mother of God”, I gasped out.

“I….am….not….the….I am the son of God”, he said, walking across the room to sit beside Jar-no, no......Sam.

Holy shit! CASTIEL?! That means that all this time, Jens- Dean, had not been lying. I collapsed on my chair, my mind, not being able to form a single coherent thought. Dean leaped up from the sofa and rushed to my side.

“Darling….darling, look for yourself, that-”

“He is Castiel.”, I said, boring into Dean’s green eyes, they brought me comfort. “I believe you…… Dean.”

A look passed between Sam and Dean and Dean immediately held my hand and squeezed my palm as an act of reassurance as he beamed at me.

Sam got up from his chair and smiled at me, “Thanks to Cas here, you believe us. At last. I thought you were two seconds away from throwing us out.”

I snorted. A really ugly snort through my nose. In front of three delicious-looking men, especially Dean, who was somehow still looking at me like I was God’s gift to mankind. Hah, no wonder I was single.

I cleared my throat to relieve the awkwardness and continued,

“Well, in my defense, you guys were acting real creepy.”

Yeah sure, not even in my wildest dreams would I actually throw Jensen and Jared out of my house, no matter how creepy they act, but they didn’t need to know that.

“But how…why……..”, I started asking the questions bothering me.

“Umm well, yeah, about that…”, Dean started, gulping.

Castiel walked over and looked at me with downcast eyes.

“You are going to die.”, he stated nonchalantly, as if three men entering into your house and telling you that you are going to die is an everyday occurrence.

“I…WHAT?!”, I shouted, my eyes wide.

Now

“CAS!”, Sam and Dean both exclaim at him at the same time.

“She was asking.…..”

“No Cas, not like that!”, Sam tells him prickly.

“Please tell me what the hell is going on! Why….How am I going to die? What’s happening?!”, I say, hiding my face with my hair.

“Darling, promise me you won’t freak out.”, Dean says, staring straight into my soul. “You are a character from a book in our universe. My favourite book. And trust me, this...you…. I am a huge fan of you. Have been, since I was a child. Now you see, few months ago, we stumbled into your universe when Gabriel pranked us. And then I saw you. I met you. The real you....just….perfect….And I just wanted to.....I mean..... I came back...I came back because…..”

“Because?”

“I know everything. I know how the book ends and I have come back here to save you, darling.”

Tagging - @thatmotleygirl @msmarvelouswinchester @athenapotter @mvdeanw @bts-spnlvr12 @holylulusworld @jensengirl83

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #dean winchester one shot

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flying-elliska · 3 years

Text

Just binge read the Bone Season series by Samantha Shannon and !!!!!! amazing. Now I want to yell about it for a bit, bear with me (essay incoming sorry)

- the concept already, urban fantasy dystopia, just feels both so fresh and so obvious it's surprising it's not more of a Thing, and the world building is next level. the modern technology + Victorian aesthetics is not just cool (although it is) it evokes the fact that Victorian England was a brutal, very unequal and fucked up society, so it really fits a dystopia. Plus Scion is also an evil empire that invades other countries, which is also thematically relevant, as is the fact that the MC is Irish.

- I'm obsessed with the concept of a magical mob and Underworld (unsurprisingly) and people who are pushed to the margins of society because their very existence has been outlawed and bond together to find freedom but are also forced to exist in a state of constant brutality and the damage it all does

- the first book throws a lot of plot and world building at you in ways that can be a bit overwhelming and confusing, and doesn't give you a lot of time to connect emotionally to the characters, so that took me a while, but it's really worth pushing through for, i love them all now.

- I love the main character, Paige, so much. she's a survivor ; clever, witty, action oriented and very down to earth ; she's also very competent in ways that feel earned, and interestingly flawed, not some gratuitous emotionless Strong Female Character with plot armor or a 'not like other girls' complex. She's proud and she has a mean, ruthless streak. She's brave, too loyal for her own good, and impulsive to the point of recklessness, and sometimes her gambles pay off and sometimes she has to pay a very heavy price for them (it made me yell at the page several times). It's really cool to see a female MC that is so invested in the politics of her world. I hate that so many female mains in fantasy or dystopia are these isolated loners who hate politics, only really care about a handful of people and want to retire to their husband/2.5 kids happy ending as fast as possible, with a plot-line that focuses over personal development rather than political goals, because it sends this weird message that women are not meant to be in the public space. (Not making this into a rant about the Shadow and Bone books but lol I could)

Paige has to shoulder massive burdens that nobody in their right mind should want and that's understandable, but you do get the sense that she enjoys being a criminal, running free and scheming and climbing over roofs and outwitting her enemies and sticking it to the government. She doubts herself sometimes, worries about people only valuing her for her powers, but she doesn't have a lot of time to waste on self-consciousness, angsting or moping about her feelings. It's very empowering to read. And she's fiercely compassionate in moments where it's actually very dangerous for her to be. She has this constant struggle between the part of her that finds injustice intolerable and the part of her that is grimly pragmatic. This is exactly what women in fiction have been excluded from for too long, complex dilemmas about action and morality taken seriously, not just love triangle shit. It's great. Although wow does she deserve a break. Ouch. Baby </3

- the world is incredibly fucked up but there seems to be no sexism/homophobia/racism, which is refreshing to read. the main romance is m/f but there's a lot of ambient queerness, just because and not to 'make a point' ; the author has confirmed that the MC is demisexual, her bff is gay, the love interest is pan, there's a badass trans commander/mob boss, you get randomly informed that this henchwoman has a wife or that this mobster is trying to save his boyfriend, it's great (and it's not a word-of-god after the fact thing like jkr it's actually shown on the page, they just don't use any labels)

- the main romance is a slow build that is very low-key at first, enemies to reluctant allies to friends to lovers, but becomes really powerful over time. the fact that the MC is demi means it can't rely on 'omg so hot i can't stop thinking about him!' clichés - nothing wrong with attraction at first sight but it often leads to lazy storytelling and irritating instalove, tell over show romances. the characters are drawn to each other but it's more of a meeting of minds and souls at first, admiration and common goals, and their actions are still first and foremost guided by strategy, not sentiment. (sidenote I've often wondered if i wasn't at least a little demi myself. that would explain why i have such high standards for credible romance lmao.) also there's a significant power imbalance at the start but it gets very much deconstructed before anything can happen and it's an interesting negotiation. Warden could easily have fit in the 'brooding immortal douchebags' category but there's an alienness and gentleness to him that lifts him above that, along with the respect and space he gives to Paige and their shared experience of trauma and hopes for a better world. Her hot-headedness and his calm, deadpan sort-of-humor play off each other really well. Also I love the idea that develops over the series that their connection isn't a distraction from their fight but that it makes them stronger and allows them to resist and find solace from the deluge of constant horror that is their world. their whole dynamic in s4...no words. also the second time i read a scene where one character is bandaging the other's wounds and there's touch aversion involved and like, I LOVE that.

- lots of complex different bad guys. some are just brutes, some are sadistic masterminds with superiority complexes, some are deceptive and manipulative and morally ambiguous. love that the Big Bad Guy is a woman - female characters being fully realized means that sometimes, they're just incredibly evil (as long as it's not tied to their gender, i love that). Paige and Jaxon's relationship is fascinating - he's a terrible, manipulative person but i do feel in his own way, he cares about her and wants to see her thrive ; but that's not necessarily a good thing as he sees it as a justification to make her go through awful things. She knows he's awful but she can't get over the fact that he took her in, taught her, believed in her and gave her a sense of belonging and freedom when nobody else did ; she was super proud of being his mollisher and it makes sense it would take time for her to rebuild her sense of self without that, on her own. I like that the ambiguity isn't resolved (it's also a very good illustration of how emotionally abusive parental dynamics can get their hooks in you). The fact that he's aroace really works there too, could have been a lot creepier otherwise and i feel that's really not the point.

- also it's really cool how each book really feels like its own thing, it never feels repetitive, there are huge twists and a shift of focus each time - the penal colony in Oxford in the first, the London Underworld in the second, traveling through England in the third, Paris in the fourth, etc. The pace is pretty breakneck and i wasn't bored for one moment - actually at times i would have liked more quiet moments w the characters. There are two novellas that focus more on that and the second one is an exploration of trauma and recovery that's particularly hard hitting and beautiful. The first book does feel like a beginner novel, it's a bit clunky in terms of exposition, pacing and character development etc ; and there are moments where all the violence and brutality feel a bit repetitive ; but overall the story builds up so beautifully and in so many complex ways it's just really worth it and it's not for nothing i read the four books and two novellas in five days. just have to wait for the next one now though argh

- anyway more people should read it

#the bone season #samantha shannon #book reviews #paige mahoney #bookblr #the mime order #the song rising #the mask falling #ellie reads things

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phoebenavarro · 3 years

Text

the more things change

rarepair time! I have not known peace since mag117. feat backup archivist martin with beholding powers

the magnus archives, martinelias, 2100 words, warning for dubcon kissing

read on ao3 here

“Jon is in trouble,” Martin says as he bursts into Elias’s office. A few months ago, the concept of doing something so brazenly rude to Elias would have made him freeze on the spot. It’s funny how things change, Martin thinks bitterly, and how things stay the same. He’s still terrified of Elias, although now for completely different reasons.

“Martin,” Elias replies, “Come in. What can I do for you?” He glances up at Martin briefly before returning to his paperwork.

Martin’s brain stutters. He didn’t really think this through, and he didn’t expect Elias to be so nonplussed.

“Jon’s in trouble,” Martin repeats, some of his anxiety chased away by a need to do something slowly creeping back in, “and I’m worried,” he finishes, summoning back the indignation he feels towards Elias at all times lately.

“Did something in particular happen?” Elias asks, “Because ‘worried’ seems to be a constant state of being for you.” He sounds bored, and that makes Martin angry, angry that Elias clearly doesn’t care about Jon’s well-being, and deeper down, angry that Elias doesn’t take him seriously.

Martin scoffs, but he realizes he can’t really explain what actually brought him to Elias’s office. He clenches his jaw.

“I don’t know!” he grits out, “Jon was fine, on the bus in America, then he was at a rest stop and a woman came up to him and forced him into her car.”

That makes Elias look up, and his gaze is even more piercing than normal, like he’s trying to rip through Martin with his eyes.

“How did you know that?” Elias asks, his tone so severe that Martin folds in on himself.

“I-I don’t know!” he squeaks, and he frowns. He realizes he really doesn’t know how he knew that. “I just— I had a feeling, I guess…?” He trails off. Even he knows how weak that sounds.

“I don’t think you did,” Elias says, raising one of his perfect eyebrows at Martin, “You just knew, didn’t you?”

Martin stutters, trying to come up with some explanation, but he realizes that Elias is right. He just knew.

Fuck, Martin just knew. He sinks into the chair across from Elias, stunned. Elias’s face breaks out into a grin. He chuckles quietly.

“See, this is what I like about you, Martin. You don’t lie to yourself. Oh, you may spend all your time lying to everyone else, keeping them at arm’s length because you’re terrified they won’t like you if they get to know the real you, but you’re honest to yourself.”

Martin stares at Elias, thrown off-kilter by being told such intimate things about himself so matter-of-factly. He wonders if that’s how Elias sounded when he did whatever it was he did to Melanie. “W-what?”

Elias leans back in his chair, grinning. “You know, when I asked you to start recording statements, I never expected you to progress quite this quickly.”

Martin’s eyes harden. “Are you saying I have freaky eye powers now? Like Jon?” Of course Elias planned for this, wanted this, and Martin just went along with it. Elias stands and crosses to the other side of the desk, perching on it across from Martin.

“Not quite like Jon, no. Jon is the Archivist. I’m sure your own Becoming will be different.” Elias turns his gaze back to Martin, but this time it feels more appraising. Elias leans forward, and Martin feels cold dread pooling in his gut. “I’m actually quite pleased. This is a promising development.”

“R-right, but what does that actually mean, though?” Martin asks, trying to stay calm and refusing to think of the implications of him being able to just know things. Elias wants to knock him off balance, keep him a stammering mess so he won’t get any answers out of him. “Is this going to keep happening? Will I develop other… abilities?”

“Yes, it will keep happening as you get stronger. As for if you’ll gain more abilities, I don’t know, Martin.” He leans forward. “But I’ll enjoy watching.”

“O-Okay, but what does that mean? Practically? I mean, the Eye’s not giving me these powers out of the goodness of its heart. What do I have to do? Can I stop it?”

Elias smiles at him with an almost unbearable fondness, which Martin has never seen from him before, and it makes Martin uneasy. “I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do to stop it at this point,” he says, and Martin sighs. Figures. “You don’t need to be doing anything you won’t be doing already, just reading statements.”

“Right, as I become less and less human,” Martin spits.

“Being human isn’t everything, Martin. You’re not going to stop being yourself.” Elias’s smile turns cruel. “But maybe you’d like that, to stop worrying about being good and nice all the time. Doesn’t it get exhausting?” Elias asks conspiratorially.

Martin narrows his eyes at him, refusing to rise to the bait. “You knew about my CV the whole time, didn’t you,” Martin says. It’s not a question, but Elias answers anyway.

“Oh, yes,” he chuckles, “It’s why I hired you in the first place. It impressed me, honestly. Such a bald-faced lie, you were so terrified, but you barely even flinched. It was charming, really.”

“Charming,” Martin repeats skeptically.

Elias tsks. “Come now, Martin, I know you don’t think highly of yourself, but is it really so hard to believe that someone would find you charming?”

Martin seriously doubts that anyone has found him charming in his life. Cute, maybe, but charming? No.

“Why…” Martin begins, but he shakes his head, “It doesn’t matter. What about Jon?”

“What about him?”

“Is he in danger?”

“Almost certainly,” Elias smiles, “but he’s survived worse. You’ll just have to trust me.”

Martin starts laughing. “You— you cannot expect me to trust you, after you trapped all of us here, after you let Sasha get killed— for God’s sake, you admitted to murdering two people! And now! I’m getting monster powers because of you.”

Elias rolls his eyes. “Martin. Don’t start lying to yourself now. I gave you the push, but you embraced the Eye on your own.” He places his hand on Martin’s shoulder, his thumb resting against Martin’s neck in a possessive way that makes Martin’s heart skip a beat. “Your need to know more hasn’t been as fervent as Jon’s, but it’s there. You tell yourself it’s to help Jon, but really, it’s all you.”

Martin finds himself unable to move away, despite how much he wants to, almost hypnotized as Elias moves his hand up to cup Martin’s cheek. His breath catches in his throat. He has no idea the last time he was this close to someone, and even on his loneliest nights, he never thought Elias would be the next person to touch him like this.

Martin has no way of knowing if Elias is actually telling the truth, or if he’s just trying to manipulate him. Probably a bit of both, he thinks.

“I just don’t know how you can keep letting Jon get hurt,” Martin says, trying to push on like Elias is not tenderly cradling his face, “I mean, he’s your archivist, whatever that means. I’d think out of all of us, he’s the one you’d care what happens to.”

Elias sighs. “I don’t like it much either, but that’s how these things go. It’s necessary for Jon to grow into his potential.”

“So, what?” Martin stares at Elias defiantly, “You’re just going to leave us in the dark? Let us get killed? Do you care at all?”

Elias strokes Martin’s cheek with his thumb, and Martin shivers. “I am sorry about Sasha,” he says quietly, “I didn’t want that to happen to her.”

And Martin, God help him, believes Elias. Maybe that’s why he still doesn’t pull away when Elias’s other hand comes to rest at Martin’s hip, when he leans in to press his lips to Martin’s. Martin freezes as Elias kisses him, but Elias doesn’t seem bothered that Martin isn’t responding.

“What are you doing,” Martin breathes as Elias pulls away briefly.

“I thought that was obvious,” Elias quips, and he settles into Martin’s lap, straddling him. Martin makes a surprised noise, but he doesn’t push him away.

“Why, then?” Martin asks, looking at Elias warily.

Elias squeezes his hip. “Because you’re mine,” he says with a predatory glint to his eyes. Martin’s blood runs cold, and now he tries to push Elias away, but Elias’s grip on him tightens, and Martin can’t get the leverage he needs. “The others may also be tied to me, but none of them have embraced their roles like you have. It has been truly a pleasure to watch you come into your own over the years.”

Martin looks away, his eyes burning. He thinks about his younger self, when he started at the Institute. He had been absolutely terrified of Elias and the way he seemed to see right through him, but also because he thought Elias was gorgeous. He still does, he supposes, especially with Elias so close to him. They’re so far beyond that now; Martin wishes Elias was just a normal, intimidatingly handsome boss. Elias brushes one of Martin’s curls behind his ear before leaning in to whisper in it.

“Do you want to know what I think? Being trapped working at the Institute doesn’t upset you as much as you think it should. Where else would you go? You’ve worked here your entire adult life, and few places will be as open to your lack of formal qualifications. You want to be angry like Tim, but you’re actually relieved. For the first time, you’re not worried about losing your job. You hate the way reading statements makes you feel, but you love feeling useful. For Jon,” he nibbles on Martin’s earlobe, making Martin gasp, “And for me.”

It’s horrible, but what’s more horrible is how Martin doesn’t want Elias to stop. He doesn’t want Elias to stop touching him; he doesn’t want Elias to stop telling him all the awful things about himself Martin usually buries deep within.

Elias grips Martin’s chin and forces him to look him in his grey eyes. Eyes that are unusually warm, and Martin’s face is so hot that he’s sure Elias can feel it.

“Oh, look at you,” Elias croons, “You’re lovely.” And that is finally too much for Martin; it feels like Elias is mocking him, there’s no way he can be sincere.

“Stop,” Martin says, and it feels far too much like begging for mercy. Elias frowns.

“Alright,” he says, “But I do mean it, you know. You are lovely like this.”

“Get off me,” Martin says, and he tries to make his voice sound as commanding as possible, but it comes out breathy and weak.

“Is that what you want? Really?” Elias asks, idly running his hand up Martin’s flank.

No, Martin’s treacherous brain says, and Martin desperately tries to remind himself that the man sitting in his lap is a murderer. Elias grins like he heard that, and hell, maybe he did; Martin doesn’t know how his powers work. Martin doesn’t know what he wants at this point, clearly, only that the weight of Elias in his lap shouldn’t be as comforting as it is.

Elias presses one more chaste kiss to his lips before climbing off Martin with a contented sigh.

“Well,” he says, “I think this development is worthy of celebration, don’t you?” Martin stares at him, slack-jawed as he continues. “Would you like to get dinner tonight?”

Martin knows he should say no, should tell Elias to fuck off, and he should tell Elias off for kissing him and touching him like that on top of everything else, but. It’s an opportunity to get Elias alone and maybe get some answers out of him for once, and Martin can’t pass that up. He knows that’s giving into the Eye even more, and he can already hear Elias’s smug voice telling him just that, but he can’t keep living like this, constantly in the dark, not knowing what’s going on or if Jon has been kidnapped again. Martin’s going to get a stress ulcer at this rate. And well, if it’s true that there’s no way out of this for him, then at the very least he’s going to use this to help the others as much as he can. (Martin ignores the way he can still feel the ghost of Elias’s lips on his own, or how he doesn’t actually hate that Elias had kissed him.)

Martin shrugs. “Sure, if you’re paying,” he says, and he doesn’t miss the way Elias gives a genuine laugh at that. Elias acting so openly… fond of him will take some getting used to, but as they walk to the restaurant Elias has chosen, Martin finds himself thinking of ways to exploit that affection.

#tma #the magnus archives #martinelias #martin blackwood #elias bouchard #tma fic #mine #my writing #backup archivist martin #don't @ me i just think they're neat

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crying-in-a-stall · 3 years

Text

Incorrect Sanders Sides

Virgil: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat? Roman: >:O language Patton: Yeah watch your fucking language Janus: OKAY WHO TAUGHT PATTON THE FUCK WORD? Roman: 'The fuck word'. Logan: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time Roman: Oh my god they censored it Remus: Say fuck, Logan. Virgil: Do it, Logan. Say fuck.

Virgil: Well, aren’t you all a rag-tag group of adventurers with unclear goals and good hearts! Oh, let me guess: you’re out to save the world! Roman: Well, actually, that sounds like a pretty fair assessment. Janus: More or less, I guess... Patton: That sounds awesome! Let’s do that! Remus: I’m new here, but I am open to the concept. Logan: I thought that’s what we were doing, guys, come on!

Roman: Hewwo. Patton: Hihiiiiii! Logan: Greetings, Humans. Janus: Three kinds of people. Virgil: I want pudding. Janus: Four kinds of people. Remus: WHAT’S UP FUCKERS? Janus: Five kinds of people.

Logan: Just be yourself. Virgil: 'Be myself'? Logan, I have one day to win Roman over. How long did it take before you guys started liking me? Patton: Couple weeks. Remus: Six months. Janus: Jury’s still out. Virgil: See, Logan? Virgil: 'Be myself'. What kind of garbage advice is that?

Virgil: Croissants; dropped Roman: Road; works ahead Remus: BBQ sauce; on my titties Patton: Shavacado; fre Janus: Miss Keisha; fuckin dead Logan: Logan, grumpy: I didn’t understand a single word of that and I hate every single one of you.

Patton: We need to distract these guys Remus: Leave it to me Remus: Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss. Logan, Roman, and Janus: *Immediately begin arguing* Virgil, watching in horror: Oh this. I don’t like this. I don't like this at all.

Virgil: Rules are made to be broken. Logan: They were made to be followed. Nothing is made to be broken. Patton: Uh, piñatas. Remus: Glow sticks. Janus: Karate boards. Roman: Spaghetti when you have a small pot. Virgil: Rules. Logan: …

Logan: Dumbest scar stories, go! Roman: I burned my tongue once drinking tea. Patton: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and burned it. Remus: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade. Janus: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it on my hand and I got a really bad burn. Virgil: … Virgil: I have emotional scars.

Logan: Anyone d- Virgil: Depressed? Roman: Drained? Patton: Dumb? Remus: Disliked? Janus: Distrusted? Logan: -done with their work... what is wrong with you people …

Patton: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the items you have lost throughout your life Virgil: Self-esteem, haven't seen you in years! Janus: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this! Roman: I knew I lost that potential somewhere! Remus: My moral code, is that you? Logan: ... Patton: I was just gonna show you this cool trunk my mother left me but do you guys need a hug?

Janus: Nothing in life is free. Patton: Love is free! Roman: Adventure is free. Logan: Knowledge is free. Virgil and Remus at the same time: Everything is free if you take it without paying.

Patton: What does 'take out' mean? Logan: Food. Roman: Dating Virgil: Murder Remus: IT CAN MEAN ALL THREE IF YOU'RE NOT A COWARD.

Remus: I’ve done a lot of dumb stuff. Janus: I witnessed the dumb stuff. Virgil: I recorded the dumb stuff. Patton: I joined in on the dumb stuff. Logan: I TRIED TO STOP YOU FROM DOING THE DUMB STUFF!!!

Janus: What did you guys get in your yearbook? Roman: 'Prettiest Smile' Patton: 'Nicest Personality' Remus: 'Most likely to start a bar fight' Virgil: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'

Logan: There are seven chairs and ten kids. What do you do? Virgil: Have everyone stand. Patton: Bring three more chairs! Janus: The most important ones can sit down. Remus: Kill three.

Logan: Good morning. Patton: Good morning. Roman: Good morning. Thomas: You all sound like robots, try spicing it up a bit. Virgil: MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS

Patton: What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything? Remus: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies Janus: Socks are Feetie Heaties Virgil: Forks are Stabby Grabbies Remus: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties Virgil: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies Janus: Stamps are Lickie Stickies Logan, annoyed: You are disappointments Roman: Why isn’t the statue smirking at me? Logan: It isn’t smirking at anyone, they’re all just imagining it. Patton: Three of us saw it, Logan. How do you explain that? Logan: *points at Janus* Sleep deprivation. *points at Virgil* Paranoia. *points at Remus* Delusional personality disorder. And you just believe everything, Patton.

Janus: Favorite horror movie? Remus: It Logan: Saw Roman: Annabelle Virgil: High School Musical. After watching it I spent all my middle school years terrified that the entire school would start singing something and I’d be the only one who didn’t know the lyrics

Virgil: We need more help. Maybe I should call my friends. Remus: ... Your what? Virgil: My friends. Janus: Are they saying “friends”? Remus: I think they're being sarcastic. Janus: No, no, no, this is delirium, they've cracked from being awake all night. Hey, Virgil! All of your friends are in this room. Virgil: I have other friends! You asked me to make new friends, I made new friends! It was a task. I complete tasks.

Patton, trying to convince Virgil to join the group: You know... I thought it'd be good to have someone come along who's really... strong! Roman: And grumpy! Logan: And oblivious to reality! Virgil: …

Roman: You lying, cheating, piece of shit! Virgil: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD Roman: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING PATTON WITH ME Logan, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

*Patton is cooking* Roman: Any chance that’s for me? Patton: It’s for Logan. I’m planning on making some bad choices tonight, and I need them on my side. Virgil: I never realized the forethought that went into being a disappointment.

Patton: Hey, is Roman sleeping or dead? Virgil: Hopefully dead, I hated their guts. Logan: Yeah, so did I. Roman: Okay first of all, fuck you-

Virgil: Is stabbing someone immoral? Janus: Not if they consent to it. Remus: Depends who you’re stabbing. Logan, who was dragged into the dark sides meeting: YES?!?

Janus: Self care is actually getting into fights with randoms in dark alleys. Patton: No, self care is stuff like taking a bubble bath, or putting on a lot of makeup if you like it, or taking a nice warm nap! Logan: Self-care is any necessary human regulatory function which is under individual control, deliberate and self-initiated. Janus: Self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you!! Virgil: Self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists!! Roman: Self care is the fear in your enemies’ eyes!!! Remus: Lmao self care is taking your birthday cake just so I can eat the frosting. Patton: If you touch my birthday cake I’ll make you eat your hands.

Roman: You are now one day closer to eating your next plate of Nachos. Logan: That's the most hopeful thing I've ever heard. Virgil: But what if I die tomorrow and never eat any Nachos? Patton: Then tomorrow is nacho lucky day.

Roman, banging on the door: Virgil! Open up! Virgil: Well, it all started when I was a kid... Logan: No, they meant- Patton: Let them finish.

Janus: Come on, I wasn’t that drunk last night. Virgil: You were flirting with Remus. Janus: So what? They're my partner. Remus: You asked me if I was single. Virgil: And then you cried when they said they weren't.

Store Worker: Would a ‘Janus’ please come to the front desk? Janus, arriving at the desk: Hello, is there a problem? Store Worker: points to Remus and Virgil Store Worker: I believe they belong to you? Remus and Virgil, simultaneously: We got lost :( Janus: I didn’t even bring you guys here with me-

Janus, driving Remus and Virgil: So how was your day? Remus: We almost got surprise adopted! Janus: What? Virgil: We almost got kidnapped. Janus: Oh, okay. Janus: *slams on the breaks* WAIT WHAT?!

Janus: Sometimes I drink milk straight out of the container. Remus: The cow??? Janus: What? Virgil: Remus, W H Y?

Roman: Virgil, my old arch enemy. Remus: ... I thought I was your arch enemy? Roman: I have a life outside of you, Remus.

Remus: How's the sexiest person here~? Janus: I don't know, how are they~? Remus, flustered: I- Virgil, from across the room: I'm doing great, thanks!

Patton: Are you the big spoon or the little spoon? Virgil: I'm a knife. Roman, from across the room: They're the little spoon.

Roman: So, what, now I’m just supposed to do anything that Logan does? I mean, what if they jumped off a cliff? Patton: If Logan were to jump off a cliff, they would’ve done their due diligence regarding the height of the cliff, the depth of the water, and the angle of entry, so yes. If you see Logan jump off a cliff, by all means, jump off a cliff. Roman: You jump off a cliff! Patton: Gladly. Provided Logan did first.

Janus: I know you snuck out last night, Remus. Virgil: Play dumb! Remus: Who's Remus? Virgil: NOT THAT DUMB!!!

Roman: Fitness tip, never stop pushing yourself. Logan: Some say 8 hours of sleep is enough. Why not keep going? Virgil: Why not 9? Why not 10? ]Janus: Strive for greatness. Roman: Next time you’re working out do 15 push ups instead of 10. Run 3 miles instead of 2. Patton, from the background: Eat a whole cake instead of just a slice. Remus from the background: Burn your ex’s house down. Roman: You can do it. I believe in you. Thomas: There were so many mixed messages in that I can’t-

Remus: I can’t believe you live nearby, and you won’t let anyone crash at your place. Virgil: You people already know too much about me. Janus: I know exactly three facts about you, and one of them is that you won’t let any of us crash at your place.

Virgil: Janus, can I talk to you for a second? Janus: Yeah, what’s up? Remus: Lemme guess. You and Roman are having problems and you want me to teach you how to kiss? Virgil: What? No, stop that. I know how to kiss. I’ve read books.

Remus: In my defense, I was left unsupervised. Janus: Wasn't Virgil with you? Virgil: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised.

Remus: Okay, help me please! Virgil: Got two words for you. Janus: I bet they won't be helpful. Virgil: Your problem. Janus: I was right

Virgil: So are we flirting right now? Roman: I AM LITERALLY STABBING YOU Virgil: That doesn’t answer my question

Patton: Where are you going? Remus: To get ice cream or commit a felony, I’ll decide on the way there Patton: Can you get me a strawberry cone? Janus: Can you kill Virgil? Virgil: Can you kill Roman? Roman: Can you kill Janus? Logan: Can you not commit a felony?

Logan: It’s dark in here Patton: Don’t worry fam, I got this Patton: *Stomps their feet* Patton: *Sketchers light up*

Logan: So what do you do? Janus: I work in genetic research, and I'm currently trying to eliminate all Cancers. Logan: Wow, impressive. Janus: Then I'll move on to Leos.

Remus: Don’t worry, I have a few knives up my sleeve. Roman: I think you mean cards. Remus, pulling knives out of their sleeves: No, I do not.

Virgil: We went through an entire character arc during quarantine Janus: We all became more evil if you’re curious Patton: We're still in quarantine, don't worry, there's time for a redemption arc still! Remus: I’m going to get worse on purpose

Patton: Am I in trouble? Logan: Take a guess. Patton: No? Logan: Take another guess.

Patton: Oh just so you know, it's very muggy outside Roman: *holding in a laugh* Logan: Patton, I swear, if I step outside and all of our mugs are on the front lawn... Virgil: *Sips coffee from bowl*

Virgil: You kill people for money?! Virgil: Can I pay you? Janus: Virgil no- Remus: And all this time I’ve been doing it for free like a chump!

Roman: What are your goals? Thomas as Patton: To pet all the dogs. Logan: No, fitness goals. Thomas as Patton: To be able to run fast enough to pet all the dogs.

Patton: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them. Virgil: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

Virgil: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my paranoia. I'll wait. Patton’s Card: FAM - ILY Virgil, tearing up: Okay.

Logan: I actually have a black belt. Roman: In what, karate? Logan: No, from Gucci.

Remus: Am I going too far? Janus: No, no, no. You went too far about seven hours ago. Now you're going to prison.

Patton, motioning to a Halloween display: All these ghosts! All these ghosts! I still can’t find a boo. Logan: Babe, I’m right here.

Remus: You think I really give a fuck? I can’t even read.

Virgil: Okay okay stop asking me if I'm straight, gay, bi, whatever. I identify as a FUCKING THREAT. Roman, from across the room: You tell ‘em, babe!

Roman: You can de-escalate any situation by simply saying, 'Are we about to kiss?' Remus: Doesn't work for getting out of speeding tickets, by the way.

#incorrect sanders sides #incorrect quotes #incorrect sanders sides quotes #sanders sides #thomas sanders #virgil #roman #patton #janus #remus #logan

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unironicduncanstan · 3 years

Photo

Randi’s Kustom Kandi! (Comes with free stickers!)

🌈💖 Hello, I’m a queer autistic low-income artist selling completely customized Kandi bracelets for $1 a piece ! 💖🌈

😘 Details and how to start your order below 😘

💲 COST: Pony bead bracelets, with colors, b&w words, or plain star beads, are $1 each, no taxes, just $1.00 flat. The use of colored letters and iridescent stars are $1.25. As of right now to keep stock up, bracelets consisting of Only star beads aren’t available to order. Charm options are not yet available, but will eventually be added, and prices may range. This is all just based on how much it costs to buy the beads to make these bracelets! 💲

📦 SHIPPING: Each order will end up with a different estimate for shipping costs, based on where you live, and how many bracelets you order. I ship through USPS and I should be able to ship almost anywhere, but the further away you are, the higher shipping will be. I’m shipping out of Kansas. Domestic shipping will probably start at around $3 - $8, international shipping will just have to depend. If you want an estimate before starting an order, just give me your address and an idea of how many bracelets you might want, and I’ll get back to you asap. 📦

🤷‍♀️ AVAILABILITY: I have a full rainbow array of pony beads including b&w, some neons and pastels too, I have a nice color range of star beads including b&w and transparent, and some iridescent star beads as well, and then for letters I have black on white, white on black, color on black and color on white. A lot of these can be seen in the example image above! 🤷‍♀️

IMPORTANT TO NOTE;;; My pony beads are all around 6x4mm, and the letter beads are 6x6mm. This is considered somewhat Small for kandi bracelets. This isn’t a choice I made to skimp out, this size is actually more expensive and harder to find than the usual 6x9mm, I just very much prefer this size to work with and wear. It’s only a tad bit more subtle, but it fits most people a lot better and I would Definitely recommend it for people with smaller wrists or who are just starting out with Kandi.

🤔 HOW TO ORDER: So basically, how you choose to tell me the pattern you want is up to you, you can draw it out if you want or just try to explain it with words, or whatever else works. Once you explain what you want, I’ll show you what beads I have that match your request, and you can decide what you want out of those options.

An example could be; “I would like a bracelet with a repeating pattern of red and blue pony beads, with the word PLUR in black on white letters, and two pink stars on each side, just like this!”

To which I might say; “Ok, here I have 2 shades of red and 4 shades of blue, and I have plain pink stars or iridescent pink, which ones would you like me to use?” and then I’d show you a picture of all of these colors for you to decide! Once we have all your bracelets planned out, I’ll ask for a few more details to give you your total price. Then once the payment goes through, I’ll start working! Whenever your bracelets are all complete, I’ll send you pictures of the finished products to make sure you like them (if not I’ll redo at no extra charge). After you give the OK, I’ll ship them out! (You can also ask for some ‘random/surprise me’ bracelets if you aren’t sure of any patterns, of course.)

What I have in stock might vary, I will try to update this post as that goes, so please make sure to visit this posts SOURCE instead of a reblog before you start an order to check for availability. Please send your order requests to THIS blog, through PM if you can. If you want an alternate way of communication, contact me however you can and we’ll go from there. I have discord, facebook messenger, email, etc. 🤔

🤷🏻 WHAT ELSE I NEED: When confirming your order, I’ll need your shipping address. I’ll then be able to calculate shipping cost and give you a full price. (Again, zero hard feelings if you can’t afford the price I give, like, bad vibes in the NEGATIVES, been there done that, and I’ll be available if you ever do have the funds, but please understand I can’t change shipping costs, I really would make it free if I could.) After that I’ll ask for your paypal and send a payment request, once that payment goes through is when I start your order! I’ll have to ask a few more questions, like your wrist measurements (or an estimate, since the bracelet is made of elastic it’ll have a decent amount of stretch, but this may warp how spaced your beads are if it’s too inaccurate.), and i’ll need your first and last name (it doesnt have to be a legal name, just something to put on your package). 🤷🏻

📫 SHIPPING TIME: Once again, this will depend on how far you are, and because of c0v1d it may be more delayed than expected. I’ll try to send you a tracking number as soon as your item ships. 📫

📿 CHARMS: If you’d like more options, the best solution I’ve been able to think of for now is that if you’d like, you could surf Ebay, Etsy, Etc. till you find some charms you’d want me to use, and then if you’re okay with covering the cost to get them (typically $5 to $15 for a decent lot) and then waiting a bit extra for me to receive them, I would have no problem using those for you! :) Someday I’d really like to stock up on popular charms to have more choices available, but I don’t quite have the funds quite yet. Thank you for your understanding. 📿

😷 ALLERGY/SENSITIVE SKIN NOTICE: I seal small parts of my bracelets to reduce the chance of breakage. I use a very tiny drop of Loctite Super Glue Gel on the knot. This glue does not keep the beads from moving freely or lock them into place, it’s used sparingly as a sealant. If you ever receive a bracelet that is locked or sticky, I would fully refund you and offer to send another. You can also absolutely opt out of this, Just add “No glue” somewhere to your order. Just be warned that your bracelet will be less protected from breakage. 😷

❗ DISCLAIMER: Either way, I cannot take responsibility for a bracelet eventually breaking down. Kandi and elastic bracelets in general are a bit prone to snapping, but mostly over time and especially if used in rave settings. I use high quality jewelry elastic from amazon, very high rated and recommended by other Kandi makers, and I knot them 3 times, so mine should last as long as they possibly can. Please make sure your wrist measurements are as accurate as they can be, and please be gentle when taking them on or off, just being careful will help prolong it’s usage by a lot. Now if a bracelet arrives broken, I will of course replace it, no extra charge. ❗

🦄 STICKERS: Order 5 bracelets and get one free sticker! Order 10 and get two, so on and so forth in a pattern of 5. The stickers are hand cut by me from large books and sheets, so the edges might look odd but the sticker itself should be unharmed. These are completely random, and based loosely around a scenecore aesthetic. Most are pretty ‘medium’ sized, but they do range quite a bit. 🦄

✍ CONTENT: Kandi, scene and rave culture, is in a general sense, a very upbeat and supportive based environment. I do not want to make bracelets with negative messages on them. I will obviously NEVER make any with hate speech or rude remarks, but beyond that, please keep your phrases positive. If you want something thats meant to fight hate, like “kill all n*zis” or something, I'm not opposed to that as it’s for justice, it’s just that most Kandi is focused on ‘happy party vibe’ messages. As far as media or interests, like if you want a bracelet that says “Gir” or “100 gecs”, or uses ship names, etc. I will not deny you any interest you choose. BUT, I am personally uncomfortable with d.dl/g and won’t make bracelets based on that, nor will I ever make bracelets supporting ped0ph1lic or 1ncestu0us content, including if they’re based on medias or fictional ships. As far as pride bracelets, I would LOVE to make those for you, and I will Never deny working with your identity, pronouns, etc. once again, unless it’s a p/ed0 flag or something. I will never deny working with any mental or physical disability/illness or other kind of divergency pride. Race and/or religion pride is also great except for “White pr1de” because of the violent connotations behind that concept. NSFW Kandi is fine, cussing is fine, I hope this goes without saying but please only ask for Kandi with a slur on it if you can reclaim that slur, and overall, just be mindful with what you ask for if you plan to wear it in public settings like raves. If you have any controversial ideas you felt this didn’t cover, please feel free to ask, I will not get angry at you for your request, even if I have to deny it. ✍

Thank you for reading! I look forward to doing business with you 😊

#jewelry #custom kandi #custom jewelry #scenecore #scene #scene aesthetic #scene kid #kandi #kandi bracelet #independantbusiness #independantartist #bracelets #selling #commission #open commissions #tw flashing lights/ /#also if ur wondering why this is being posted on a total drama island fanblog its simple. it has more followers than my main OTL

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hookingminor · 4 years

Text

close quarters (2) - andre burakovsky

a/n: here’s part 2! hope y’all enjoy please leave me a message w your thoughts I love hearing what you guys think

word count: 2,735

one / two / three / four / five

Despite his sudden aloofness that past few days, Andre knocked on your door the following Thursday.

“Hi, Andre, did you need something?” You asked curiously. He never bothered you in your room.

“Actually, I had something for you. I know you’re still looking for a place, so I talked to some people and got you a showing for tomorrow at five,” he replied.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you thanked him, “Really, I can find my own place.” Though, you weren’t really sure if that last part was true. It had been a couple weeks, and you were still at a loss.

“It’s no problem,” he said with a blush, “I can send you the address and phone number of the agent later today.”

“Wait, you’re not coming with me? You have to come with me, Andre. I can’t just show up somewhere for an appointment I didn’t make,” you said hurriedly before he left.

“I don’t think—,” he began to say, but you cut him off before he got any further.

“You sent me your schedule, I know you don’t have anything going on,” you said with an accusatory finger to emphasize your point, “You have to come with me.”

Andre opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came out. He knew he’d been caught, and you weren’t taking no for an answer. You raised your eyebrows, putting on a hopeful face as your lips slowly quirked into a smile.

“Great!” You said cheerfully when you knew he wasn’t going to argue, “I’ll be ready to leave at three!”

When you closed the door in front of him, a victorious smile on your face, Andre threw his head back to gaze at the ceiling, cursing himself for not being able to tell you no.

You and Andre walked to your showing the next day as it was only fifteen minutes away and the parking in Denver was hell. When you arrived at the opulent building, you stopped in your tracks to berate Andre.

“Who the hell did you call? I can’t afford a place like this,” you said in awe, mouth agape as you stared up at the high rise.

“I may or may not have promised the landlord two years worth of season tickets in exchange for a favor,” he said, chuckling at your stunned expression.

“You really should not have done that,” you said, though the bite in your voice wasn’t as harsh as you intended it to be.

“It’s not a problem. I don’t have any family near me anyway, and I have the tickets to give away,” he said with a shrug.

Andre ushered you through the lobby and up to the seventh floor, apparently he’d been given the entrance code already. You didn’t say anything the entire way, too taken aback by the cleanliness and luxury of the building. You read the signs in the elevator that indicated the floors of a few amenities, pausing when you came across the information for a pool. This had to be way over your budget even with Andre pulling a few strings.

A middle-aged woman greeted you when you stepped out the elevator, tapping away on her phone as she stood outside the door you presumed was the apartment.

“Hi, you must be Andre. I’m Ellen, I’ll be showing you around today,” the woman said, using a key to unlock the door.

You followed her into the entryway, your eyes immediately noting the open concept and large kitchen. Granite covered the countertops, a perfect contrast against the white cabinets.

“As you can see, there’s a lot of natural light that comes from the large windows and balcony, high ceilings in all the rooms, new appliances in the kitchen, bathrooms were redone a year ago,” she listed on, but you were already sold the minute you entered.

“There is a gym on the first floor, each unit comes with its own washer and dryer, pool is on the roof, though it’s only open during the summer,” she continued as you wandered through the living room.

It was much bigger than what you needed but beautiful, nonetheless. Ellen led you to the hallway along with the attached bedrooms.

“This is the master bedroom, ample space for a king-sized bed and plenty of room for clothes and shoes in the walk-in closet,” she described with a chuckle.

“Oh, we’re no—” you started to say, shaking your head at the insinuation of you and Andre being a couple.

“We love it, thank you,” Andre said loudly, drowning out your voice, “Would you mind giving us a few minutes alone?”

“Of course, I’ll be out in the kitchen if you need me,” Ellen said with her best saleswoman smile. She left the two of you in the room, and you gave Andre a funny look.

“It’s easier if they just assume we’re a couple. Less awkward,” he explained, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. You gave him a smirk that said “sure, I totally believe you” as you allowed yourself to pace across the bedroom.

“So, what do you think?” He asked after a moment, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“It’s perfect. Way out of my price range but perfect,” you replied.

“Don’t worry about that, it’s all handled. I promise it’s within your budget now,” he said.

You stood at the window, overlooking the city and taking in the view. It was the perfect location: only a few blocks away from your new job but still close to the interstate if you needed to go somewhere. There was a grocery store on the corner across the street, and you could see three coffee shops just from your view from the window.

“I don’t know how to thank you for this,” you said sheepishly. You hated owing people, and this felt like one huge favor no matter what Andre said.

“Think of it as a welcome to Denver present,” he said, “So should we go sign the papers now?”

As much as you wanted to say no, to tell him this was too much, the offer was too good to pass up. You weren’t going to find another place like this that you could afford, and Andre had already promised the landlord tickets. It would just be rude to refuse now. At least that’s what you told yourself when Andre led you back out to the kitchen.

“We’ll take it,” Andre announced when you’d joined Ellen back in the kitchen. She set her phone down on the counter when she heard his voice.

“Perfect!” She said joyfully, removing a packet of papers from her purse and setting them on the table, “I have to make a quick call, but let me know if you have any questions.” She pulled out a pen from her purse, handing it to Andre before moving to a different room.

Andre gave the pen to you as you began rifling through the lease. You scanned the apartment rules and contract appendices, noticing the way the monthly rent had been blacked out and replaced with a new price.

“I don’t even want to know what the real rent is,” you chuckled lowly, signing where it indicated.

“I wasn’t going to tell you anyway,” he replied, leaning his elbows on the counter as he watched you read.

You flipped through the rest of the pages, most of the words were a formality and discussed liabilities, not that you intended to break anything. When you had finished filling out the last signature, Ellen appeared back in the kitchen, the same bright smile on her face.

“All finished?” She asked, putting her phone back into her purse. You nodded your head, handing the stack back which she tucked away with her phone.

“You’re going to love this place. It’s very popular with young couples starting out on their own, so you’ll have a lot of neighbors like you,” she said as she escorted you back out of the apartment.

“The least starts on the first, and there is a service elevator just out back that you will be given a key to,” she added finally, locking the door behind you, “If you have any more questions, you can call me any time, or I’m sure you have the landlord’s number.”

It was clear Ellen had another appointment to get to, so you said your goodbyes quickly and left the same way you came.

When the elevator doors shut, Andre turned to give you a big smile.

“Don’t look so smug,” you said with an eye roll, “I’m going to be surrounded by young couples all the time now.”

“Well, you can always just invite me over if you need a fake boyfriend to show off,” he said without hesitation. You widen your eyes in surprise at his proposition, and Andre is quick to backtrack

“I didn’t mean like— I just meant that… If you ever need company…” he stuttered, cheeks heating furiously. You laughed at his uncomfortable shuffling.

“It’s okay, Andre, I know what you meant. And you’re always welcome here, you’re kind of my only friend in Denver anyway,” you chuckled playfully, trying to ease the tension.

The elevator hit the ground floor, and you exited, eager to leave that awkward conversation behind you.

“Back to the apartment, then?” You asked to change the subject as you both stepped out of the building onto the sidewalk.

Andre glanced down to look at you, entranced by the way your eyes glittered in the sunlight. So, he decided to take a risk.

“Actually, do you want to get dinner? I know a good sushi place,” he asked in a hopeful tone, “You know, to celebrate the new apartment and all?”

You didn’t think your mood could've gotten any better, and Andre didn’t think your smile could get any wider, but both of those things happened when he asked you out for dinner.

“I’d love to,” you replied.

Andre walked you throughout downtown Denver to a fancy sushi restaurant that sat on the corner of the street. Despite not making any reservations, you were lucky to see it wasn’t that busy and you were able to easily get a table for two.

He ordered a bottle of wine for the table when the waiter stopped by as you read over the menu.

“Do you want to get some sample platters and just share? That’s what I usually do when I’m with the guys. It’s also the best way to try everything,” Andre asked, pouring out two glasses of wine. You agreed at his suggestion, placing the order when the waiter came back.

“So,” Andre started, bringing the wine glass to his lips to take a sip, “How do you know Taylor and Tom? In all my years in D.C., they never mentioned you.”

“Taylor and I actually met in college, she was the senior assigned to mentor me freshman year. So, we spent a lot of time together. I moved to D.C. after graduation, and she was currently there with Tom so I reconnected with her and that’s how I know them,” you explained, taking your own sip of wine.

Andre nodded his head along with your story, and then he launched into the story about how he met Tom. You knew it was because of hockey, obviously, but he went into more details about their friendship and living situation with Latta.

“I always wondered why you had three ketchup bottles in your fridge,” you chuckled along with his story. You’d only been to Tom’s apartment a handful of times and it was usually because Taylor had to swing by and pick something up but you always found it odd why one household had three bottles of ketchup and absolutely no other food. You just assumed guys were weird and didn’t know any basic cooking skills; it turned out you were not all that wrong.

“Yeah, the domestic skills of the apartment were not very high,” Andre laughed with you.

He asked about your jobs after school and why you moved to Denver, and you asked about his home back in Sweden. Questions turned into recalling childhood memories and other hobbies and interests you had outside of your careers. The sushi came halfway through an anecdote of how Tom broke a hotel TV in Calgary because he was trying to kill a spider.

You continued into a story of how your sister tricked you into walking on a bee’s nest, which resulted in ten different stings and a trip to the hospital. An hour passed and the sushi between you slowly disappeared as you took turns telling stories and taking bites. Soon, the plates were empty, the bottle of wine was finished, and you could feel the waiter hovering near the wall waiting for your signal to deliver the check.

Exiting the restaurant, you stumbled out on the small ledge that dropped down to the sidewalk, your arm instinctively reaching out to grab Andre’s arm for stability. You chuckled when you made contact, clearly a little more tipsy than you originally thought. His hand slid down to your waist, holding tightly until he felt you were steady enough without the support. And even though he removed his arm from your hip, you kept your arms snaked around his as you began walking. Andre didn’t retract his arm or look uncomfortable with your proximity, so you kept it there.

He steered your bodies towards the direction of his apartment, and you knew you were probably a good thirty minutes away. The bubbly atmosphere from the restaurant followed you the entire way back to the apartment, both of you continuing the banter from earlier. It seemed as if the wall that was between you, the one that had you dancing around each other because of the unusual living situation, had been broken down and you were finally past the stage of awkward acquaintances and into the stage of friendship.

Well, you hoped it was at least at the stage of friendship, though you were silently hoping it had progressed past that. You would’ve been blind to have not found Andre attractive, but with his schedule and odd behavior and the fact that you lived together, you decided not to act on it.

But tonight you were feeling like pushing the envelope a little bit further.

The two of you entered the front door of the apartment, and for the first time in nearly two hours, a silence fell between you. It wasn’t uncomfortable by any means, but it was clear that your night out was over and the bubble that surrounded your date had popped. Now, you were back into the temporary roommate bubble.

Your hand finally released its grip on his arm when you both reached the kitchen counter. Andre stood between you and the marble countertop, his eyes still twinkling as he gazed into your eyes.

“I had a great time today,” you blushed, “Thank you for dinner… and the apartment.”

Still in a blissed out haze from the date, Andre didn’t think twice about lifting his hand to brush aside a strand of your hair. You leaned slightly into his body as his hand paused to rest behind your ear for a second.

Taking a deep breath, you tilted your head up a couple more inches, hopefully communicating that you wanted him to kiss you.

It was this action that seemed to snap Andre out of his stupor because one second he was moving his finger to lift your chin, and the next second he was dropping his hand and stepping away. He blinked away the lustful mist that clouded his eyes before coughing awkwardly.

“Uh, I have to get to bed,” he said, taking a few more steps out of your reach, “Practice in the morning.”

“Oh, okay,” you said dejectedly, your lips turning into a frown. Were you reading the situation wrong? You could’ve sworn he was feeling the same way you were.

“Yeah, uh, goodnight,” Andre mumbled, turning on his heels before speed walking to his room.

The air around you felt awkward for the first time that entire night. You were bouncing off each other the entire night, why was he closing himself off now? Your brows furrowed in confusion as you took a few seconds to process Andre’s suddenly bizarre behavior.

What the hell just happened?

#andre burakovsky #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl fic #my writing #avs95

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madamhatter · 2 years

Text

Tag ten followers you want to get to know better

Tagged by: @more-than-a-princess

Tagging: @subserviiient / @mixandmatchupmuses / @crossxskulled / @cornerstonc / @saymecw / and anyone who likes answering these things when it comes to IRL..!

name: Soar

star sign: Pisces/Aries cup.

height: 5′0

middle name ?: Elizabeth

put your itunes / spotify on shuffle. what are the first 6 songs that popped up?

Tatsuro Yamashita - LOVE SPACE Liana Flores - Rises the Moon Monsune - OUTTA MY MIND The Rare Occasions - Notion From “36 Questions” Musical - Our Word

Grab one book nearest to you and turn to page 23. what’s line 17?:

“..That said, I know you well enough to be sure you can’t help putting some good work into it. Would it be right to deprive readers of that?”

Wiesel, Elie. The Time of the Uprooted

ever had a poem or a song written about you? : Yes. I was very not for it growing up and it was very cringe-y.

when was the last time you played air guitar?: HAHAHA-- I still do this at my age. I think I did it when vacuuming and I was listening to “Meant to Be Yours” from Heathers. Air guitar plus vacuuming is a weird thing to do, but it felt right.

who is your celebrity crush?: I know I had strong celebrity crushes growing up and even a couple of years back, I don’t really have something that strong anymore. Will I watch something with my biases? Oh Lord, I will. I look to you Dev Patel and Gwendoline Christie.

what’s a sound you hate; sound you love?: Yelling. Yelling is something I hate 100% hearing and immediately keep to myself when it starts. Can’t even bring myself to do it w/o bursting into tears, I also don’t like the sounds of certain chains when they jingle. Can’t explain why but I shudder at it and go somewhere else. I really love the sound of moving water (slowly moving liquid in a water bottle, for example) and crinkling paper. You can imagine what I play in the background when I do things-

do you believe in ghosts?: Iffy on the concept of ghosts. I waver between believing and not given my past experiences. As weird as it sounds, there have been stuff in the past that proves otherwise.

how about aliens?: Not quite.

do you drive?: Yup.

if so, have you ever crashed?: Yes. I was sandwiched in a three-way accident. The car behind me hit me so hard on my way to college (as a freshman) that I hit the back of the car in front of me. This was on the way to class early in the morning. There was a test that day too.

what was the last book you read?: Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao! It is a terrific read and I cannot encourage and promote their writing enough! You may know them from their YouTube channel.

do you like the smell of gasoline?: *shifty eyes at Rae’s reply* So I’m the person who were looking for because I like the smell of gasoline.

what was the last movie you saw?: I recall that I rewatched Encanto with friends, but that wasn’t the most recent movie I’ve seen. There was also me rewatching Kate on Netflix, which I really recommend!! That only tells me that the actual last movie wasn’t exactly the best then.

what’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?: I’m not 100% big on sharing medical stuff on here but I had the busted ankle and messed up wrist. I had cracked opened my skull as a kid and needed stitches. But that wasn’t the worst I had.

do you have any obsessions right now?: Gaming wise, my current focus is on Pokemon: Legends of Arceus and rekindling my love of Miitopia. Watching wise, I am starting Peaky Blinders and Hometown Cha-cha-cha (please guys watch this, I love it so much). I am also finishing Disenchantment. There are much more to the list, but I’m only thinking off the top of my head. IRL wise? Finding a new job--.

#( the shenanigans of a sorceress ; dash games )

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